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Tio Wally Eats America: Pancho’s Mexican Food

I’m happy to have Tio Wally (long-time Me So Hungry reader) aboard to send in his eating adventures from across America. Here he is in Junction City, Kansas.

Greetings from Junction City, Kansas
N 39° 1.6925’ W 096° 50.1447’ Elev. 1,102 ft.

It was a dark and stormy night when … actually it wasn’t stormy at all, it was just dark. And late. Early, early, early in the morning, to be precise.

I had been driving around the deserted streets of this gleaming metropolis looking for any not-a-chain eatery that might be open and, with any luck, served decent food. All the places Carmen in the Garmin could find either didn’t exist or were closed. All hope, along with the fundamental will to live, was fading rapidly aboard the SS Me So Hungry.

Then it happened: We decided to do the next best thing and see if we could find a 24-hour grocery store that wasn’t a Merchant of Death based in Bentonville, Arkansas; I won’t name the store. Up popped Kroger.

We love Kroger here on the Street Scow MSH. They have vital viddles that we try to keep stocked whenever possible: Fruit-at-the-bottom yogurt (40¢); orange-pineapple juice ($1.99); and Kroger-brand plain cake donuts ($1.50-$1.79/dozen, depending on location).

Do you have any idea how hard it is to find plain cake donuts that don’t cost an arm and a leg? Did you know that many pirates have peg legs because they had to give up a limb to pay for a plain cake donut?

Long story short, we ambled off to find the Kroger. Along the way we stumbled upon Pancho’s Mexican Restaurant, which is open 24/7.

I’m always suspicious of independent restaurants in small towns that are open 24 hours-a-day. It always seems like a cry of desperation that they’re open. Of course, I’ve been very, very, very wrong about this desperation thing before, however, and I’ve been handsomely rewarded for “taking a chance.”

So I decided to take a chance on Pancho’s. Hell, I thought, even if it sucked blue whale — they pack the largest penises on the planet, you know — it’d still be hot food. That there was nothing else open helped in the decision-making process, too.

On my first visit to Pancho’s I got Bistec Ranchero, which came with the obligatory rice and beans, along with a drink, for $7.99. For the drink I got a Jamaica (pronounced huh-My-cuh), a semi-sweet, tangy cold tea brewed from dried hibiscus flowers.

Although I thought it could’ve been meatier, the Bistec Ranchero (skirt or flank steak with onions, jalapeño peppers and tomatoes) was the best I’d ever had. I simply couldn’t believe how flavorful and spicy it was. It brought sweat to my brow and a couple of bites brought tears to my eyes. The refried beans and rice were equally good.

The next visit I got the Steak Ranchero ($8.69). Although the picture showed the meat cubed instead of sliced, I figured it’d be basically the same thing … and I’d get two fried eggs, to boot. Well, not so much.

While it was very good and the meat was remarkably tender, it didn’t pack the same punch as the Bistec Ranchero. I found this quite baffling. After all, Bistec is Spanish for “steak” and Steak is English for “steak” and they were both prepared Ranchero (“Rancher” in English) style, they ought to be kind of the same thing, right? Well, no. And I don’t know why.

Pancho’s has a condiment bar reminiscent of ones I’ve seen often in California, with four or five different salsas, including that weird, runny green stuff many burrito places call guacamole sauce (it has nothing remotely in common with guacamole). It also contains a half dozen veggies, like those awesome carrots marinated with jalapeños and onions, and sliced radishes and sliced cucumbers. At least, that’s what I bagged. Unlike chintzier places Pancho’s provides zip-lock baggies for your condimental booty, instead of relegating you to those little plastic cups that nothing fits in.

Had I known that the Steak Ranchero would be so meek I would’ve grabbed some salsa to beef it up. Unfortunately, I discovered this too late.

I will eventually solve the Spiciness of the Ranchero mystery; the same guy was cooking both times. I will develop a friendly relationship with him. I will seek definitive answers.

Ultimately I will tell the cook that J-Lam may be coming in the near future and will probably want a two-buck Mexican Cock, er, Coke®. I hope he won’t be too disappointed when, instead of a visit from an internationally recognized Puerto Rican-American bombshell, he gets a diminutive Gator fan.

And so we roll.

Pancho;s Mexican Food, 419 W. 6th Ave., Junction City, Kansas
with locations in Olathe, Topeka, Salina, Lenexa and Blue Springs, Kansas and Kansas City, Missouri

Tio Wally pilots the 75-foot, 40-ton(max) land yacht SS Me So Hungry. He reports on road food from around the country whenever parking and InterTube connections permit.

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travel

Neptune Diner (Newburgh, NY)

We went to go play a wedding party in upstate NY. On the way, we stopped at Neptune Diner in Newburgh. I don’t often get a chance to go to diners. I didn’t realize they would have beer. Do all diners have beer? Denny’s?

Neptune Diner - 82 Rt 17K. Newburgh, NY 12550

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tio wally travel

Tio Wally Eats America: Dancing Eagle Restaurant & Casino

I’m happy to have Tio Wally (long-time Me So Hungry reader) aboard to send in his eating adventures from across America. Here he is in Casa Blanca, New Mexico.

Greetings from Casa Blanca, New Mexico
N 35° 01.981’ W 107° 28.577’ Elev. 5,951 ft.

I’d been working on a different Me So Hungry post wherein I mentioned Pork Chops and Eggs. Ever since I wrote the words pork chops and eggs I’d been craving them.

So there we were, cruising Route 66 (I-40 in New Mexico), “The Mother Road” of song, fame and fable. That’s when we received the omen, the harbinger of good things that may well come our way.

Okay, so it wasn’t actually anything remotely supernatural or even mildly unusual. It was a billboard flogging a Pork Chops and Eggs special at one of the myriad casinos owned and operated by Native Americans in New Mexico.

But it said $6.99 and showed two pork chops on the plate. And it was served ’til 2 p.m. We were in time, there was plenty of parking, and the Laguna Pueblo tribe needed our money.

My evil twin Skippy and I had stopped at the Dancing Eagle Casino before. Then we found out the special was only available across the street at the casino, not the truck stop side. But it was so hot it would’ve been an oppressive walk across the street and an even more torturous trek back to the yacht afterward. We passed.

This time the weather was glorious. As we set out walking we discovered a shuttle that’ll deliver street sailors to the casino and back. Yea! What service.

As we got in the shuttle I thought Skippy was going to pull a real faux pas, as he’s wont to do. The driver had the radio set to the Native American-owned radio station out of Window Rock, Arizona. It’s a bizarre station.

For many years it was the only radio signal that could be picked up reliably in western New Mexico and eastern Arizona. The station plays the occasional schlock pop and then a lot of Native American music which, to me, sounds a lot like chanting to interminably monotonous drumming. I suspect that it sounds that way to me because that is exactly what it is. I always thought it’d probably sound pretty hip … if I were held prisoner in a hogan hopelessly zoned on peyote.

So we get in the van and the radio is playing the most caricatured rhythm in Native American music. That’s when Skippy turns to me and starts mouthing “HI-how-are-ya, HI-how-are-ya.” Oy veh. Thankfully, we made it to the casino without incident and quickly found the restaurant.

Every casino on the planet really needs your money, so deals on food are de rigueur. But I’ve found that the Native Americans have a slightly different take on the program. It seems their motto is “We don’t care. We don’t have to.” As a result the service usually sucks, the food is sub-crappy. It’s generally an experience best avoided.

The Dancing Eagle Restaurant however quickly exceeded my expectations. We were seated toot sweet by a friendly hostess, who treated us with genuine warmth and respect. Likewise, our waitress, Roxanne, was genial and cheerful.

The Pork Chops and Eggs came as advertised, almost. The difference was that on the billboard it showed hash browns (I think). My plate came with sliced, fried potatoes with little bits of onion and bell pepper. I really wanted hash browns; I love hash browns. But that’s okay. I was so hungry that I didn’t want to complain or send it back.

The pork chops were two boneless breakfast chops, which were great. While I thought the eggs were on the puny side, they were cooked adequately. The deal came with a choice of toast or a biscuit, which I opted for.

The biscuit was a whole wheat thing, I think, and possibly the densest biscuit I’ve ever met. But it was really great. I cut it in half, slathered it with Real® butter and drizzled honey on it. Had I not been on a tight schedule I would’ve asked for another one. And maybe some hash browns.

I thought this was really weird: On the single-serving package of ©Kraft Foods Pure Honey was a warning: DO NOT FEED HONEY TO INFANTS UNDER ONE YEAR OF AGE. Whaaa?

In all, the Pork Chops and Eggs special was a pretty decent deal. But the real deal may be across the street on the truck stop side. They advertise a Laguna Burger, a half-pound hamburger with lord knows on it for $3.99; I couldn’t tell by the artist’s conception on the many billboards.

I suppose I should try one next time I’m through and report back. And I will, unless it’s Tuesday and I get two chili cheese dogs for $2.

And so we roll.

Dancing Eagle Restaurant, I-40 Exit 108, Casa Blanca, New Mexico

Tio Wally pilots the 75-foot, 40-ton(max) land yacht SS Me So Hungry. He reports on road food from around the country whenever parking and InterTube connections permit.
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homemade travel

Tio Wally Eats America: Morel Mushrooms

I’m happy to have Tio Wally (long-time Me So Hungry reader) aboard to send in his eating adventures from across America. Here he is in Galena, Missouri.

Greetings from Galena, Missouri
N 36° 47.079’ W 093° 30.350’ Elev. 885 ft.

One of the tastier rites of spring here is the appearance of Morel Mushrooms. Easily their greatest attribute is that, unlike many other wild mushrooms, its appearance is so distinctive in it’s pine tree-like profile that it’s readily identified by even the most inept, brain-dead psuedo-mycologist, like myself.

There are two types of Real Morels, black and yellow (blonde). The ones growing here are predominately the yellow variety, although the color of the cap may vary from pale yellow to dark gray; the gray ones are immature. They appear in the spring as if by magic, seemingly sprouting up all at once overnight as soon as soil and weather conditions are just right.

According to Wiki, Morels have been called by many local names: Sponge Mushrooms; Dryland Fish, because when sliced lengthwise then breaded and fried, their outline resembles the shape of a fish; Hickory Chickens, in Kentucky; Merkels or Miracles, based on a story of how a mountain family was saved from starvation by eating morels; and in parts of West Virginia, Molly Moochers. (There is no explaining West Virginia.) Here in the Ozarks they call them Morels. Go figure?!

The proper way to harvest Morels is to break the stem off at ground level, then turn the mushroom upside down and gently shake it. Shaking it releases any free spores lurking in the honeycomb-looking folds of its cap. Because the spores are microscopic in size you won’t see them, unless of course you’re equipped with superhuman eyesight.

After you bring your bounty home, slice the mushrooms lengthwise and soak them in salt water for at least a couple of hours. This will kill all the little critters that like to dwell in the folds of the cap. Most of the bugs will float free after you callously administer the salt-water eviction notice/death penalty. Any hangers-on, as well as any hidden dirt and grit, will be removed upon gently rinsing the mushrooms thoroughly.

It seems everyone hereabouts has their favorite way to prepare Morels, ranging from sautéed in butter and garlic to deep frying in an egg-wash-and-cracker-crumb batter to simply mixing them into scrambled eggs. Because I love sautéed mushrooms we went that route and served them over the Duke of Earl’s famous smoked pork loin roast.

I really like the texture of Morels as they are “meatier” than the average mushroom due to their odd-ball construction. I can’t think of another mushroom that’s similar in this somewhat rubbery regard. Other mushrooms are, for lack of a better descriptor, much “airier” than the spongy Morel. And try as they might I don’t think even the mightiest Portobello can match it texture-wise.

A great thing about cooking with Morels is that they give up a lot of moisture, even when well-drained and towel dried. As a result, when sautéed, they essentially make their own gravy.

Needless to say the Morels were a delicious accompaniment. Better still, they were free for the taking and, still better yet, no one died during the harvesting, preparing and consuming of the delectable fungi.

Another wonderful thing about Morels is they are easy to preserve, either by drying/dehydrating, canning and/or freezing. The problem, of course, is having enough to make it worthwhile — if you don’t get them as soon as they come up, somebody else will; calling them “coveted” around here is a gross understatement.

As with all wild mushrooms, make sure you have precisely, unquestionably, identified them well-above-and-beyond certainty before eating them. Many mushrooms are poisonous enough to kill you or, at the very least, make you wish you were dead. If you’re not absolutely, positively, 100 percent sure about a wild mushroom, follow this simple rule of thumb: Don’t Eat It!

And when harvesting Morels beware, there is indeed a False Morel mushroom that looks mildly similar. It is easily identified, however, as it won’t have the tell-tale hollow, tuberous stalk like a True Morel. (I don’t know if they even grow around here; I’ve never seen them nor heard mention of them.)

’Til next time, I bid you “Happy ’shroom hunting” and, should you be fortunate enough to find some Morels, “Enjoy your Morchella esculenta.”

And so we roll.

Tio Wally pilots the 75-foot, 40-ton(max) land yacht SS Me So Hungry. He reports on road food from around the country whenever parking and InterTube connections permit.

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italian tio wally travel

Tio Wally Eats America: Best meal 2012

I’m happy to have Tio Wally (long-time Me So Hungry reader) aboard to send in his eating adventures from across America.

Greetings from Galena, Missouri
N 36° 47.079’ W 093° 30.350’ Elev. 885 ft.
and West Asheville, North Carolina
N 35° 34.936’ W 082° 36.237’ Elev. 2208 ft.

‘Round this time last year Jason put together a list of the best things he ate during the previous year. Although the fabled SS Me So Hungry is currently in self-imposed “dry dock” I thought I’d go ahead and post my choice for the best meal(s) I had last year.

I’ve written about this restaurant twice before and, initially, was kind of hesitant to do so again. But when the food is that good, so head-and-shoulders above the rest, well … what’s a skipper to do?

So without further ado, the envelope, please. My choice for the best meal(s) I had in 2012 is [rrrrrrrip] Nona Mia Italian Kitchen.

The last time I was there (in November) I actually ordered a steak. I never order steak in restaurants. They’re usually too pricey and it’s something most everyone can cook as well or better at home. But I made an exception, mostly because the description on the Specials Menu sounded too good to pass up; a NY strip with a mushroom-chianti wine sauce.

I started with a Rustica salad ($9), comprised of “Mixed field greens, pear, walnuts, Gorgonzola, lemon and EVO (extra virgin olive oil)”; shouldn’t that be EVOO? As expected, it was so simple yet so great. What a great combination. My dining companion ordered a Verde salad ($8, small $4.25) of “Organic greens, red wine vinaigrette, and Parmigiano Reggiano.” It too looked pretty damn good. And everything fresh, fresh, fresh.

The Bistecca alla Griglia (Certified Angus Grilled Strip Loin Steak, with Garlic Mashed Potatoes, Roasted Asparagus & a Mushroom Chianti Wine Sauce, $18) didn’t disappoint me either. The NY Strip steak was grilled perfectly medium/medium-rare as requested and was pretty darn tender, draped with an awesome sauce. The sauce was so good that I wished there had been more of it. I’m sure I could’ve asked Chef Peter Affatato for more but the restaurant was busy and, more so, I was too busy stuffing my face.

The wonderfully garlicky Garlic Mashed Potatoes and Roasted Asparagus made for a great compliment. And just for good measure it came with a piece of Nona’s great homemade bread. But this wasn’t the best meal I’ve had at Nona Mia’s.

Easily the best meal I’ve ever had at Nona Mia’s — and this is saying a lot considering the level of the food — was a seafood stew, Pesce Stufato ($17). It was a stew of clams, shrimp, calamari, grouper, fennel, potato and calamata olives. It came bathed in an exquisite saffron broth that lived up to its billing as “Heaven in a bowl.”

In the past I’ve bitched both here and in person about the fact that Nona Mia’s didn’t have Ravioli’s on the menu. Well, I guess my kvetching has paid off: Nona’s now has raviolis on its new menu not once but twice!

This would be swell except for two things: They now serve what would likely be my new favorite — Formaggio Ravioli Spinaci (House-made cheese ravioli, salsa pomodoro, creamed spinach & basil-walnut pesto, $18) — and, much worse, I am exactly 801.7 miles away. Like I said: Swell.

And so we (want to) roll.

Nona Mia Italian Kitchen, 1050 Haywood Road West, Asheville, North Carolina

Tio Wally pilots the 75-foot, 40-ton(max) land yacht SS Me So Hungry. He reports on road food from around the country whenever parking and InterTube connections permit.

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tio wally travel

Tio Wally Eats America: Jimmy’s Down The Street

I’m happy to have Tio Wally (long-time Me So Hungry reader) aboard to send in his eating adventures from across America. Here he is in Coeur d’Alene, Idaho.

Greetings from Coeur d’Alene, Idaho
N 47.673492 W 116.762511 Elev. 2161 ft.

I went for Sunday brunch-ish at a restaurant here called Jimmy’s Down The Street. When you get here don’t ask for Jimmy. He won’t be here. There is no Jimmy. There is, however, a Mike. He’s the co-owner with his wife, Gretchen.

It turned out Down The Street was featured on the Food Network’s “Diner’s, Drive-Ins & Dives.” According to the menu the show’s crew milked the shoot for three days — Three days! — in August 2011, with that chubby bleach-blond terminally hip host-guy, Guy Fieri, subsequently “highlighting the Chicken n Dumplings ($7.49), Pecan Rolls ($5.25) and Chicken Fried Steak Skillet ($9.95)>.” Nice work if you can get it.

The menu also says the place has been here in some incarnation or another for 50-plus years, though I don’t really remember it. I guess I was always headed in the other direction, towards Rustlers Roost when it was still located downtown.

The day I visited Down The Street it had a Stuffed Meatballs special for $7.95. Who could pass that up?

Mike had told me that the cook was making the meatloaf that morning and was wondering what else he might do with the meat. The answer? Stuffed meatballs.

I thought the special came with a choice of onion rings or french fries or baked beans, so, after asking if they battered them there — and she said they did — I chose the onion rings. It turned out that there really was no choice: You got the whole shebang, along with garlic toast and a Thousand Island-ish dipping sauce.

The four golf-ball-sized meatballs were stuffed with American cheese, breaded and deep-fried. They were pretty good, the crispy outside and tender inside making for a great juxtaposition of textures. But they really needed something. Afterward I decided what they really needed was spicier meat and, what the hell, a spinach-and-provolone cheese filling. Still they were pretty good.

The onion rings were good but they weren’t quite what I was expecting. I don’t know why but whenever anyone says they batter the onion rings in-house I expect tempura batter. Wishful thinking, I guess.

The french fries, however, were great. The hand-cut, homemade french fries are so far superior to the crappy faux-fries you’ll most likely get virtually everywhere else. Gadzooks: They actually taste like … potatoes! There simply is no comparison. After all, spuds weren’t meant to be froze.

The garlic bread was delightfully garlic-y and the baked beans were really, really great. The beans had big chunks of pork in them and were not too sweet. Perfect, really.

But the next day I started craving link breakfast sausage. It took me awhile to figure out why but it was because my friend had ordered what he called a “traditional breakfast”: two eggs, breakfast potatoes, link sausage ($7.95). The sausages Down The Street serves are big fat things, akin to homemade sausage rather than the common sissy-sized pre-fab links. I wish I’d have taken a picture of them or, at least, asked him how they were. But no: FAIL.

All in all Jimmy’s Down The Street is pretty good and pretty reasonably priced. But if you go before about 1 p.m. — they close at 2:30 — there will likely be a line out the door. That’s one way to help you find it, I guess. Still, it’s pretty easy to find: It’s down the street (Sherman Ave.) on the left as you’re leaving downtown Coeur d’Alene towards that place, whatchamacallit … oh, yeah, Montana.

And so we roll.

Jimmy’s Down The Street, 1613 E. Sherman Ave., Coeur d’Alene, Idaho

Tio Wally pilots the 75-foot, 40-ton(max) land yacht SS Me So Hungry. He reports on road food from around the country whenever parking and InterTube connections permit.

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tio wally travel

Tio Wally Eats America: Rustlers Roost Restaurant

I’m happy to have Tio Wally (long-time Me So Hungry reader) aboard to send in his eating adventures from across America. Here he is in Hayden, Idaho.

Greetings from Hayden, Idaho
N 47.7601609 W 116.79176 Elev. 2294 ft.

I hadn’t been to Rustlers Roost for quite awhile. But I was keenly aware of how great its food is: I’ve been eating there off and on for nearly 30 years and, now, at its fourth (and final?) location. Thankfully, it hasn’t changed a bit, even after all these years.

The first thing that hits you when you enter Rustlers Roost is the sweet, pungent aroma of Marketspice cinnamon-orange tea. So distinctive (and comforting) is the smell that I could be led into Rustlers Roost blindfolded and I’d immediately know exactly where I was. I’d also know exactly what I was likely to order. But in all the years I’ve eaten at the Roost I’ve never seen anyone actually order that tea. I guess perhaps just the smell is enough.

I’ve long had a love affair with the Roost’s breakfasts ever since it was in its original location, a 35-seat hole-in-the-wall in downtown Coeur d’Alene. Over the years I’ve easily had well over a dozen different things off the breakfast menu. But I’ve established a real preference for just a few things, mostly because they’ve become go-to comfort foods for me.

In no particular order, they are Rustler Special: Three eggs, Chicken Fried Steak, Home Fries, and Biscuit & Gravy ($9.75); Boots and Saddle: Three eggs, Two Pork Chops, Home Fries, and Biscuit & Gravy ($10.75); and Lightweight: Two eggs, Two Sausage Links or Bacon, and Biscuit & Gravy ($8.00).

On this visit I had the Rustler Special. As always the eggs were perfectly cooked, the hash browns (my substitution) crispy, and the lightly-breaded Chicken Fried Steak fork-tender. But it’s the gravy that’s killer. I don’t know if they make it from scratch or it’s from a mix, but it has such a distinctive, somewhat chicken-y flavor. Add one of their signature biscuits and, voilà, you’ve got The Taste of the Roost.

Many people have commented on the size of the Roost’s pancakes. They say they’re large. The menu bills one as a 10” Solo Cake. (Both claims are moot, I think. I’m convinced that the size of the pancake is solely based on the size of the plate. Anyone can plainly see (see photo) that if the hotcake were any larger the server wouldn’t be able to grab the plate without squishing the flapjack. Duh!!! Nobody wants their flapjack squished. It’s just common sense.) They are large, though, about 10 inches across. I didn’t remember them doing it before but they served both “regular” and Smucker’s Blueberry Syrup with the pancake. Nice treat.

But all comfort food aside, easily the biggest treat of all was seeing owner Woody McEvers again. I’ve known Woody for nearly 30 years, which makes him old; coincidentally, Rustlers Roost is celebrating its 30th year in business this month. I hadn’t seen him for well-over five or 6 years. I suspect that, to him, I’m akin to a sea serpent of sorts; you never know when I’m going to pop up. Still, it’s always a thrill to see people you’ve known forever in great health and spirits, even (especially?) when they’re Woody’s advanced age.

There really is nothing unusual about the greaseless greasy spoon that is Rustlers Roost. Unless, of course, you want a great meal at a great price and don’t mind being treated like family in the process.

And so we roll.

Rustlers Roost, 9757 N. Rustlers Trail, Hayden, Idaho

Tio Wally pilots the 75-foot, 40-ton(max) land yacht SS Me So Hungry. He reports on road food from around the country whenever parking and InterTube connections permit.

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tio wally travel

Tio Wally Eats America: Costco

I’m happy to have Tio Wally (long-time Me So Hungry reader) aboard to send in his eating adventures from across America. Here he is in Kennewick, Washington.

Greetings from Kennewick, Washington
N 46.227125 W 119.235268 Elev. 480 ft.

If you’ve never been to Costco before it can be an interesting place. It’s a membership warehouse store where “50 million people” pay a $55 (or $110) yearly fee for the privilege of buying more stuff than many of them will ever need and/or use.

Everything there is big: big packages, big bundles. If you want, say, a cantaloupe, you can’t buy just one. You have to buy a net-bag of three melons. And so it goes for virtually everything throughout the store.

Don’t get me wrong. It’s very high-quality stuff at fairly reasonable prices. You just have to want a lot, a whole lot. This can work out favorably, though. I bought an entire case (24 bottles) of the best beer in the world — Alaskan Amber Ale — for less than $24. The cheapest I’d seen it previously was about $30.

Costco also has a snack bar that’s truly a great deal. It offers only a half-dozen or so items but all of them are reasonably good, especially the Polish Dogs. And if the snack bar is located outside the building you don’t need a membership card to get one!

The deal is a 1/4 Pound PLUS All Beef Hot Dog or Polish Sausage with a 20 oz. Soda (one refill) for $1.50. As long as I can remember Costco sold Hebrew National meat tubes at the snack bar, which were really great. No surprise there. After all, Hebrew “We Answer to a Higher Authority” National is kosher, so they know weenies. Now, however, all Costco sells are Kirkland (Costco’s store brand) sausages. I don’t think they’re quite as good as the Hebrew National’s but it’s still a tasty deal.

Along with the dogs they have some decent fixin’s, like deli mustard, fresh-bagged, mechanically chopped onions from a hand-cranked, screw-driven metal dispenser, and little cups of sauerkraut (on request). All in all it’s a very good and very filling deal.

The bad part, though, is that in older stores and stores located in Northern climes the snack bar is located inside the building. That means you have to have a membership card to get in; they actually have people posted at the door checking membership cards like they’re visas or passports or something.

Of course, there are ways around that, too. But what a pain in the ass for a freakin’ ‘furter, Frank.

And so we roll.

Costco, locations throughout North America.

Tio Wally pilots the 75-foot, 40-ton(max) land yacht SS Me So Hungry. He reports on road food from around the country whenever parking and InterTube connections permit.