Tag Archives: Scotch Egg

Broad Appetit: The Good, The Bad, The Garbaje

I’m going to blow your mind here: I’m a human being.

I know, I know. There was some speculation because I’m a tall lady that I might be a giantess. Or a cylon or something.

6 via theinstructables.com

Bears. Beets. Battlestar Gallactica. via theinstructables.com

Yeah…I’m definitely not a cylon.

Or, is that exactly what a cylon would want you to think?

So, I’m a totally normal human being and I don’t really like to make mistakes. I think that’s a pretty normal thing. And of course, because I’m a regular ole cylon human being, I make mistakes more often than not.

Here’s a mistake I made earlier this week: I misspelled Richmond. Yep. The city that I live in. I spelled it Richcmond. That’s not how it is spelled. But that will appear on the return address of a card I mailed out this week. Keep your eyes peeled, receivers of my correspondence.

I made a lot of really bad food mistakes this weekend. I went with my new roommates best friends forever, Becca and Evan, to Broad Appetit. Broad Appetit is a lovely food festival on Broad Street here in Richmond with hundreds of vendors, live music and more cute puppies than you can shake (or throw) a stick at (or to). And for as many good decisions I made, l made some really terrible ones too.

Without further ado: food things!

Good decision: Scotch egg from Somewhere.

(That is not the name of a trendy place, I just don’t remember.)

The cure for all hangovers

The cure for all hangovers

Fried and delicious. Only complaint. It was too big and therefore, too delicious.

Good decision: Chicken and waffles with tahini maple syrup.

I kept my shadow in the picture so you knew who took the picture.

I kept my shadow in the picture so you knew who took the picture.

Sweet and crunchy. I want to marry chicken and waffles. I want to be Mrs. Chicken and Waffles. Or Ms. Novak married to Mr. Chicken and Waffles. It’s the 90s.

Bad decision: This ramen situation.

Cold ramen salad. My heart was cold eating it.

Cold ramen salad. My heart was cold eating it.

Listen, this ramen won the best dish of the festival. And I wanted to like it so much because these guys follow me on instagram so I feel like we should be friends. But, this was a cold ramen salad that needed a hit of heat or acid or something. Frankly, I wish I’d taken a hit of acid before I’d eaten it. Maybe that would’ve increased my enjoyment. But, I will go to the ramen joint and give them a proper chance when they are in their element.

Good decision: Barbecue something with something.

(Yeah. I know. I’m crushing these descriptions. I was a little hungover and I forget a lot. Also, it’s a FAKE FOOD BLOG.)

It had cornbread.

It had cornbread.

I don’t remember anything about this dish except that it lead to maybe my favorite picture of all time.

Meet Drunk Sandwich. Coming to Instagram or Myspace or a blog near you.

Meet Drunk Sandwich. Coming to Instagram or Myspace or a blog near you.

WORST DECISION: Summer Vegetable Bacon Salad.

Shoulda been called water salad.

Shoulda been called water salad.

I had been drinking drinks and eating fried things so I thought a summer vegetable salad with bacon sounded delightful. Light and refreshing and bacon-y. Well, sure. That was the theory. This was basically a watery pile of veggies topped with bacon. I returned it from whence it came: the garbaje.

Regret: Cheerwine Slider.

Ok, I get it. It's better than what I got.

Ok, I get it. It’s better than what I got.

I try to live my life without regrets, but it is Wednesday and I still regret not getting this slider. Evan got this slider. I wish I got this slider. The meat was braised in Cheerwine. Thank God I’m going to North Carolina this weekend.

Good decision: Watermelon popsicle from King of Pops.

Perfect summer treat. Also, the guy at the cart was really sexual with how he opened the popsicles. It was awkward to watch.

Damn it, Evan.

Damn it, Evan.

Also, Evan likes to ruin my pictures.

Like another Evan I know.

Evan Pease is the best. But he's dumb.

This sandwich was ruined. Evan Pease will rue the day he touched my iced cream.

Overall, the day was a win even though it was punctuated with food misteaks.


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Risky Biscuits: New York City’s Finest Biscuits, Empire Biscuit

I don’t know when I first heard about Empire Biscuit in NYC, but ever since I did, it’s been on my culinary bucket list.

An all biscuit restaurant? I’m sorry, what’s not to like about this place. Biscuits? Good. Stuff on biscuits? EVEN BETTER.

But sometimes, you don’t get to go out to biscuits. Sometimes, the people you’re with want to eat sushi (sort of want) or want banh mi (sort of want) or want to eat salads (the fuck, bro?).

But other times, your best friend wants to eat biscuits with you. And so, you eat biscuits. Laura and I went to Empire Biscuit together. We’d been talking about it. Dreaming. Drooling over the menu together. She’d been a few times before. She even had a regular order (biscuit with fried chicken and pimento cheese). But me? This was my inaugural visit. So I needed to try EVERYTHING.

I got the Scotch Egg biscuit sandwich with cheddar and whole grain mustard. And we split two sammiches that were “meant for each other” (Just like best friends are, RIGHT?!?!?!). The “You-So-Nasty,” which is the best thing to say out loud ever. And the Savory Character, which sounds like someone from a murder mystery. And some cheese grits cause, duh.

This is why I'm hot. And by hot, I mean fat.

This is why I’m hot. And by hot, I mean fat.

But I was scared, y’all. I was really, really scared. Cause what happens when you have biscuits that are made in the north. Who makes northern biscuits? Northerners. That’s who.

When we placed our large order, we terrified the co-owner who was behind the counter by making a bad joke (“we’ll take one of everything!” “…really? Cause that’s happened.”) And then he asked where we were from.  I said I was from North Carolina. And he said, “oh, that’s cool. My business partner is from North Carolina.”

Oh, thank GOD. Because the south will rise again. As a light and fluffy biscuit, that is.

Everything we tried was incredible. The You-So-Nasty was honestly the best bite of food I put in my mouth all day. Tart, sweet and creamy with a hint of spice. They even make their hot sauces in house. The attention to detail is excellent. Friendly service, cool people. Shouldn’t be missed.

Laura thinks that they missed a real opportunity to call themselves Risky Biscuits, after the 1983 Thomas Cruise movie “Risky Business.” But after tasting them? There’s nothing risky about these biscuits.




…That sounded a lot cooler in my head, y’all.

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