Sfuzzi kind of Sucks

 Dad and Mar being NERDS

 I got over to my dad’s house last night and suggested several restaurants. I suggested Sfuzzi, the newly re-opened Italian restaurant on McKinney, and he proceeded to try and pronounce it for the entirety of the car ride to no avail. Once we got there, we had them seat us inside because it was hot as balls outside. Mistake #1. If you walk in to Sfuzzi and they start to lead you to a really cute table tucked away to the right, stop. Turn around. And quickly leave the restaurant. The 5 of us sat down and immediately started sweating. Now sweating during meals is completely normal for my family, but usually after several rounds of meat dishes and 6 loaves of bread. But the sweating started as soon as we hit the benches. Turns out, we were sitting directly behind the pizza oven. Woof. So we ordered wine, martinis and calamari and waited a while for it to come out. I guess they ran out of wine glasses or were just trying to be “trendy” but the wine came out in a double shot glass. Nothing makes cheap wine taste better besides imagining it as a shot? Mistake #2.
 
Actually, that would be mistake #3, mistake #2 would be the fact that our waitress was wearing hot pink faux ray bans inside on top of her head—as  if walking towards the pizza oven required some type of protective eye wear. The calamari was okay—we ate the whole thing because it really isn’t in our nature to leave any remnants of fried food—I know, I know, there are starving children in Africa, but they probably wouldn’t like calamari, so we finished it out of goodwill.

                 

Then we ordered, and that’s when the waitress lost a few more points. (Mistake #4) Ya, we get it, when we order an extra large pepperoni pizza, a veal chop with pasta, chicken parmesan with spaghetti, a caeser salad, fettuccini alfredo and a sausage pizza we seem large, but stop judging us bitch, cause we would also like a side order of double fried French fries and some more bread. Also, we are running low on olive oil, so spruce that up too.

                Then she laughed. BIG MISTAKE. Don’t laugh at our family, it is almost guaranteed that we will either make you incredibly uncomfortable or try to eat you. Both are a possibility, both have happened.

                So we sat in our booth baking for about 15-20 minutes when they started bringing out the smorgasbord. The pizza was giant, and smells delicious and overall everything looked great. So I dug in to my caeser salad and was not impressed. I am a firm believer that Caeser dressing shouldn’t be super creamy, especially if its homemade, and this one definitely didn’t seem homemade. The fettuccine alfredo with peas and vegetables was just with peas, and a little too thick for me. Also, I was sitting across from my sister who would take a bite and let the sauce get stuck on her mouth like a glob of mayo, so we know that it repulsed me. My other sisters chicken parmesan was okay, but I prefer the Lean Cuisine version—and it’s about 12$ cheaper. The star of the show was the ‘za, it was delicious and the perfect amount of crust/grease/cheese. You could even pull the layers apart and eat a thing layer of pizza and then a thin layer of bread and since I heart carbs, this was perfect. The sausage pizza sucked and tasted like an onion farm mated with old sausage. Just bad. My dad’s veal was awesome and it came with a huge arugula and parmesan salad. By the time we got up a few nasties were sweating so bad that we had to run out of the restaurant as to avoid embarrassment. Ya, as if we could avoid embarrassment after ordering 50 entrees and cleaning the plates.

Mistake #5 (and in my dad’s case, a fatal one) was the fact that they forgot our French fries. Only a true Fatty McButterpants would mention this after gnawing the last bits of veal directly off the bone (I guess I am my father’s daughter). The sad part was, the tone of voice that he used when mentioning it to our waitress was forgiving—like he really was “too full” to eat one more bite, but the small tear (or sweat) drop proved that he was disappointed with the no-show of our double fried French fries.  

One last note—Mistake #6: being directly situated next to the dooshiest bar in uptown, Renfields Corner. 





Legit Veal Chop
Sucky Chicken Parm

CFA Spicy Chicken Sandwhich Should Be It's Own Food Group.

I spent all day yesterday getting mentally prepared. At one point (after I had opened a bottle of wine by myself) I found myself standing in front of my bathroom mirror psyching myself out. On previous posts I had thought I’d hit a low point, but 2 glasses deep in cabernet, standing alone in my bathroom contemplating a speech TAKES THE CAKE. So I decided to pick out my outfit for what will probably be the most important day of my life (Screw babies and marriage—I get to go to a special presentation for a sandwich.) I decided to go with leopard print, so that the cows would immediately think of me as their animal friend and offer me free hugs/food. I got both. Double Score.

Cows Love Their Own...

So, at about 10:55 this morning, Lauren and I got on Central and bee-lined it for The Richards Group. We arrived and much to our surprise, the joint had VALET PARKING. We were greeted by that magical Chick-Fil-A cow and a greeter inside and ushered up to the 11th floor. Stepping out of the elevator, Lauren and I looked like fat fourth graders that had gotten off on the wrong floor. Pretty much everyone there was an adult, give or take 5 people. We checked in under “Dining in Dallas Blog” and took what can only be described as the most unfortunate looking photo in the world. The cow grabbed us and they managed to snap a photo of what appears to be a fat black woman and her 7 year old kid. Woof. Anyways, we were given “Media Pass” nametags and went on our way to get our Lemonade. Best lemonade in the world (besides Eatzi’s pomegranate lemonade). We were told to mingle until the presenters were ready to give their speech, so we did and took dorky photos like we were Asians at the capitol.

The presentation lasted about 10 minutes and then we were able to TAKE THE FIRST BITE. In unison. So imagine a bunch of middle-aged, salivating patrons, elbows up to the tables, diving in to the spicy abyss that was the sandwich. Silence. Then the murmurs grew, and all Lauren and I could contribute was creepy eye contact with each other as we ravaged the sandwiches.

The best fast food spicy chicken sandwich that I had ever tasted before this was Wendy’s. We all know it’s legit, and awesome w/ their bbq sauce. Well, F off Wendy’s, there’s a new Sandwich in town, and it kicks ass. The Chick-fil-a sandwich has the spicy sauce on the outside of the chicken, then is fried, so there is no mess, and no sauce needed. And I am a saucer. Even the plain sandy requires some Polynesian sauce, but this one needs nothing. Except maybe another patty (oink). It’s spicy enough to make you need a drink and they were there to offer refills on lemonade and tea. Overall, probably one of my fattest Field Trips ever, but completely worth it. I might be on the news since I looked up at one point and there was a WFAA news camera in my face as I was shoving the creation in…Please don’t judge, you wouldn’t have stopped eating this thing even if Beyonce walked in the room.

The next step for chick-fil-a will be to make this sandwich translate across the board, because I would not mind diving in to some spicy chicken fingers on a lazy Saturday.

They gave us chips instead of fries--only downside.

The best decision I have made this year was to write this fatass blog. Hopefully it will bring more invites, free stuff and a movie deal (because everyone wants to sit in a theater and watch some random eat for 2 hours). If everything goes my way, in 5 years I will be hosting my own TV show that will be a mix between DDD, Wipeout, and Man v. Food.

The invitation

This poor cow got hot and had to sit down on the bench outside...I feel ya buddy. BEEN THERE

my fellow taster/little sister

THANK YOU JOANNA!!!

Pizza and Bengal Cats

 

I’ve been craving Pizza since I got the big news for a while. And not like Dominos or some chain pizza, but legit Dallas Pizza. And since I know someone who likes to HATE on Dallas all the time, I decided that I would introduce him to some of the finer things our wonderful city has to offer (besides me, duh).    So, I got online and Googled “Dallas’ Best Pizza” and decided to go with Guidespot.com’s 3^rd favorite pick, Pizza by Marco. Sad story—I just typed in “Dallas B—“ and it filled in the rest for me. I hate that Google knows I’m slightly overweight and have a fetish for pizza.  Located in the Preston Royal shopping center, this little joint is easy to miss, since it has a tiny sign and is in the corner. I got online and was able to order my pizza there, which is always nice, since most pizza order takers manage to royally F up every order I place. So I ordered us a medium pepperoni  (always gotta get something with pep, it’s a standard) and the Milano Chicken Alfredo Pizza, a light choice that features Alfredo Sauce, Chicken, Mushroom, Fresh Garlic and Parmesan. Hefty, cheesy and LEGIT. Lets be honest—with pizza I am usually full by the second slice, but I managed to wolf down 4 slices before even diving in to my I Heart Yogurt dessert. So, the pizza comes on crispy thin crust, some of it is burned a little and has flour dust on the bottom, which is always good in my book, because then you know it was cooked in a wood oven. The pepperoni was just average, I really like to order pepperoni, mushroom and jalapeño, (yes, that is an enyay) but some idiot is sick of the last two ingredients so I had to just order plain pep. So, we ordered the pizza around 7:30 and picked it up 30 minutes later. I walked in to the restaurant and saw my sick sad future: A girl was eating with what looked like her mother, and was sitting on two chairs. I literally saw my future 2 20 years from now. Me and my mom grabbin a slice on Thursday night while my Dad cat-sits for me. Long story short—Pizza by Marco is the shit, and when I can take a break from shopping online for Bengal Cats I will start making “Best Of” lists for D-town, and P by M will most definitely be on it. 

Pizza By Marco's Website

 

More about Bengal Cats. They are the shit. They look like tigers/cheetahs but only weigh around 25-30 lbs (how much my actual cat weighs). I am considering putting a paypal donation link on this site so that all you wannabe fatties can donate monies so I can buy this $2,000 playmate. When I eventually get dumped b/c I am too open with my fatass-ness, this guy is my next conquest. What a babe. Plus, he has a Bengal.

Chubby Chatter...Chick-Fil-A

      I have successfully landed every slightly overweight, sometimes lonely girl/boy's dream. On June 2, I will be attending a media testing for the Chick-Fil-A Spicy Chicken Sandwhich at the Richards group. 5 days before you Plebians get to try what I can only imagine is like sex on a bun with two pickles, I will be lining up to sample the treat during a work day. The tentative invite says it is from 11-1, so of course my chubbo brain is hoping that they will have some type of Man vs. Food challenge that I can enter and see if I could non-stop eat spicy chicken sandys for two hours. I bet I could average about a sandwhich every 8 mins, which is a total of 15 sandys (6,750 cals, 255 grams of fat). Just your average daily snack binge. Or at least my average calorie/fat intake on a Sunday. Anyways, I'm sure I will only get one, but I will for sure line my pockets/purse/fanny pack with foil to keep any sandwhiches that are left warm til I can share the wealth. Anyways, my Beefy Biography is sure to continue, especially since I will be getting my photo taken with a celeb (the chick-fil-a cow). The official countdown til the public release of the Worlds 2nd Greatest Idea (the first being the TI-83+ calculator that you could use to cheat and play games with in high school), is 19 Days, 10 hrs, 6 minutes. But suck it, average Joes, because I try it in 14.

P.S. Should I buy some Chick-Fil-A gear? I do look good in ball caps... Chick-Fil-A Gear

People who like Mayo will be alone forever.

This blog isn’t about one particular restaurant, but it’s about things I am obsessed with and things that are solely for fatasses. Now, if you’ve met me, you know I’m no rail…baby got back and baby got front, but baby don’t like mayonnaise. Mayo is for fatties and people who like to eat steroids like Jelly Bellies. It’s simply gross. I’m not going to go in to detail about what it looks like sitting in a jar, but it’s sick. BUT, if something is called Aioli, aka mayonnaise with lemon, garlic, basil or any other addition, it is not only acceptable to eat, but downright classy and a nice addition to a sandy. However, if you are going to put a condiment on your sandwhich, I recommend any of the cream cheese spreads from Eatzi’s. Secondly, Twinkies.

  On their website, Hostess boasts that Twinkies have been “Tingling Tastebuds for over 80 years.” More like contributing to childhood obesity and low self esteem. Congrats, Hostess, not only have you made a classless fat treat, but you have gone above and beyond chunky on your website with Twinkie recipes…aka http://www.hostesscakes.com/recipes/show/17/ (Twinkie Cheesecakes—something a Houstonian would probably serve at their wedding). Sidenote—twinkies look like corn dogs that have mayo for filling (also, I hate corn dogs).

Things that rule:

Baby Goldfish: Taste the exact same as goldfish, but anything mini makes you feel like a giant, and therefore they are awesome.

Sour Jolly Rancher Gummies: Because I’m sick of Sour Patch Kids and they are sour-er than everything else.

Zebra Cakes: The only product Hostess got right.

Eatzi’s in general: (unless a cashier asks if you are expecting…No, bitch, it’s just a flowy top and my face is swollen, but thanks for boosting my self esteem as I purchase my Breakfast Burrito)

CPK: Who cares that it’s a chain. It is delicious. Although last time I picked up a to go order for two the bill was over $50. Low point.

Sausage on a stick: This man has class that I long for...

E-trade commercials: Makes me want to invest with a toddler.

DFW

Things that suck:

Corn dogs: Sausage on a stick is way tastier and carb free! Also, not butch at all.

Mayonaise: Unless it has a refined French name like Aioli.

Houston

Twinkies

Arbys

What I really want to rave about though is the commercial that got me a little to excited last night…CHICK FIL A IS COMING OUT WITH SPICY VERSIONS OF THEIR CHICKEN! Honestly this is the best news I have gotten all year. Like ya, I was happy when my sister had a baby or when I got a job, but this takes the cake. Chick fil A’s only mistake is not being open on Sundays. 

DALLAS 

RULZ

Herrera's and Daytime Porn

Nothing says good Mexican food like a man sitting spread eagle wearing a sombrero on the front of your menu.

Where can you go for this cartoon porn-like picture? Herrera’s on Maple. Sandwhiched between the Old Parkland Hospital (now taken over by Trammel Crow) and Sunshine Cleaners, Herrera’s basically barely peeks out between the legs of Northwest Maple. If you can find a parking spot (there is a lot behind the building and 3 spots in front) you are in luck. Unfortunately, most of the people who frequent Herrera’s can’t seem to keep their el Camino’s in between the lines of the average parking space. Anyways, when you walk in, keep walking past the idiots who can’t comprehend the giant sign that says “SEAT YOURSELVES” and take a seat. You will be greeted by a friendly waiter wearing a shirt that says “I've bean to Herrera’s (the bean is actually a refried bean, creative). They bring ample salsa to compliment the greasy chips. We went with the entire office (my family) so my boss (dad) ordered 5 million orders of nachos, guac, and queso.

Apparently slipping in to a food coma makes us ideal workers. Herrera’s nachos suck, and I don’t understand why anyone orders them, or why I eat them EVERY SINGLE TIME. They are straight up melted cheese/grease puddle on top of chips (see below photo)

Nachos...aka I stained my favorite shirt trying to eat one

Then I feel like shit about eating the greasiness and have to start thinking about an order. Here is one side of the menu…

ANXIETY

Just order the fajitas…its way easier and they are the most legit fajitas in Dallas. But, if you feel like really immersing yourself in the Mexican culture, I suggest you order a meal after the most popular Mexican names such as:
Dee Ann: 2 Beef Burritos topped with Chili and Sour Cream (Woof Dee Ann, how embarrassing to have that named after you)

Julius: Such a common Mexican name, and also Herrera’s way of saying Flautas.

Rupert: Everyone’s favorite Gay Tejano, this dish includes enchiladas and tostadas.

My other favorites include Selena (an actual Mexican name, RIP GIRL), Nora, Mellissa, Mom, and Denise. All in all the food is pretty legit, super greasy but awesome for a hangover. They also just got their liquor license, so we are pretty pumped about having to navigate that parking lot after a few margaritas.

 Now not only do I have the urge to watch Selena, I think Yolanda Saldivar should be punished by making her watch Maid in Manhattan and Gigli over and over again with no Spanish subtitles. If you don't know who Yolanda Saldivar is then get a life (or just google "who killed Selena").

S&D Oyster House

                If you’ve never been to S&D oyster house in Dallas, you are either anorexic or an idiot. Also, I hate you. If someone wants to go to S&D's I get as excited as I still get about Chuck-E-Cheese and/or Dave and Busters--they all make me pee a little from sheer excitement. S&D’s has been in Dallas for forever, and will stay there forever, un-franchised, unless some White Trash Houstonian decides to steal, and unsuccessfully run another Dallas restaurant. If you don’t recall, Houston tried to take Mi Cocina and failed MISERABLY (because Houston is miserable).

Delish Hush Puppies

                There’s nothing healthy on the menu, and it’s the type of place that is perfect whether you feel fine or are hungover. This place is basically Forrest Gump’s heaven, and even though the waiters are all middle-aged to ancient, I still want to jump each one of them when they set my food down on the table. When you get there, order whatever you want to drink (preferably a Schooner or a diet coke) and ask for crushed ice. Anyways, they have a huge basket of saltine crackers and three day old, iced down butter waiting for you, which seems gross, but it’s the only place besides a country club swimming pool where putting an entire pat of butter on one cracker is acceptable. Order the shrimp dip, you won’t regret it. I know I talk mad shit about fatasses who eat sour cream and mayo, so this dip goes against all of my basic human rights principles—it is a fat cow’s dream, and you can’t even taste the mayo. It is like cream cheese and picante with shrimp in it. Wow, that actually sounds disgusting, but try it, you’ll like it. (That’s what she said)  inappropriate.

  Skrimp Dip

                Then comes the odd part. Every time I go to S&D’s, I try to order the same thing, and every time I try, I get shot down, and shit gets awkward. I always ask for the kids cheeseburger w/ crispy French fries and they turn me down. One dumbass even asked me if I was under 12. I looked at her with violent eyes, made eye contact with her, then my chest, and looked up. No idiot, but I want the kids. Anyways, the kids cheeseburger and the normal one are the exact same size but I like ordering kids, I feel like my pants get looser when I order anything off the kids menu. 

"Kids" Cheeseburger w/ Crispy Fries--apparently I looked hungry (fat) and he thought I'd want more...

Whoever I’m with (sadly usually my dad), this time, Matt, usually gets the Shrimp Loaf, which is basically a fried shrimp sandwich with tartar sauce. Delish. All in all, S&D’s rules and is basically tied with CPK forbeing the best restaurant in the WORLD. 

Shrimp Loaf (shrimp po boy)

 Side note: Does anyone want to go to Dave & Busters? You still need an escort over 25 if you have a group of 4 or more...They have legit curly fries.