Seven-Eleven

Though I am known among my friends as someone to consult regarding all things culinary, I must confess a love of 7-11 hot dogs, particularly the 1/4 pound spicy bite. But this post is not about that. It's about the other things they serve, which have seemingly been shoe-horned into tube shape so they can be cooked on the hot dog grills. I speak, specifically, about the "taquito."

My girlfriend has a dog. This dog loves me, and usually won't leave me alone, so I walk him often. I also am frequently the one that feeds him. In short, there is a bond, so hopefully it doesn't seem cruel when I reveal that my nickname for him is "dumb-dumb." He's a sweet guy, and terribly inquisitive, but basically a simpleton. Notwithstanding, or perhaps because of this, he will eat anything. When I lived in DC, he found chicken bones and other detritus that no one could have -- and consumed it. And he still does this now that he lives in the 'burbs, though to a lesser extent. But, honestly, he did something the other day that surprised me. On a normal walk, I saw a whole, seemingly fresh, taquito in our path and decided not to avoid it. The dog came to it while smelling the ground incessantly, presumably looking for things to eat. But when he encountered the taquito, he passed right by, not even recognizing it as food.

So, if you're tempted, don't be. My de facto dog has decided that a taquito is not food. Clearly you should not eat one.

Original Post: http://donrockwell.com/index.php?showtopic=17376

Deutsch American

Ever since Don Rockwell started a forum for recommending professionals, I had meant to recommend my BMW mechanics (who service all German cars) in Urbana (my guy is Mike). I learned of them when I lived up that way, but have continued to use them since, despite the inconvenience of getting my car (and me) there. The reasons for this is that they are cheap and bullshit free. If they say you need it, you need it; if they say you don't, you don't. I've tried the dealer and other places down here and, after they recommended multi-thousand dollar repairs, went to Deutsch American. My repair bill each time for what they actually did has always been about half what I would have paid here. And they've frequently told me I didn't need to have certain work done. My car has always been returned flawless.But, of course, there's a story. When I met my girlfriend, my car needed some work. Because they are so good, I planned to take my car to Deutsch American. One thing led to another, and she volunteered to take me to drop it off. So, we set off for Deutsch American, which, I guess, I forgot to mention is in the middle of nowhere, at the end of a private airplane runway, in a hangar. So, as we pull in, she's thinking things are a bit sketchy. The door for the place is also around the side of the hangar in the back, which is not well lit. So she's thinking worse things. And I was having work done that impacted my trunk, so I had to clean it out. This is, apparently, where things got interesting.I had just moved from a friend's house in College Park with a giant back yard to a loft in DC. I didn't have a lot of storage in my new place, so I left precisely three things in my trunk that I needed in the Maryland house that I did not need in DC: a shovel; a ground tamper; and heavy-duty construction trash bags. The reason I had these three things is as follows: (1) the house I live in in Maryland had an old-school chimney smoker, and I needed the shovel to get the coals from the chimney part to the smoker box; (2) the house also had an overgrowth of bamboo, which I chopped down but took daily pruning to maintain; and (3) I put in a fountain for a former significant other and needed the tamper. I loaded these things into her trunk and we left. It was a long, silent ride home.Apparently, she believed that I needed these things so that I could kill her and bury her body where no one would find it. Of course, about half way home she confessed this to me. And, of course, rather than telling her why I owned these items, I responded that I was tired and, actually, hoped to kill her in the morning. I have no idea why she's still with me now, two and a half years later. But I'm thankful.


Original Post:  http://www.donrockwell.com/index.php?showtopic=17375