Pubdate: Thu, 14 Apr 2016
Source: Sacramento News & Review (CA)
Copyright: 2016 Chico Community Publishing, Inc.
Contact:  http://newsreview.com/sacto/
Details: http://www.mapinc.org/media/540
Note: By Anonymous

BONG APPETIT

A Sacramento Food Writer Revisits Least-Favorite Foods to See If 
They're Tastier-on Weed

I wonder if everyone in Rick's Dessert Diner is also completely 
stoned. I contemplate this while in line, high and at ease. The child 
standing behind me probably didn't just smoke a bowl. But the couple 
in front of me, ordering two slices of cake, a cream cheese brownie 
and a cinnamon roll? Definitely.

And, crud: Suddenly it's my turn, and I'm distracted by Rick's 
inability to properly label his desserts. Come on, Rick. This mocha 
torte is not a torte. It's a cake. Just a cake. Nothing fancy. I 
order it to prove my point.

Why am I here? Not just to feast on six layers of buttermilk cake 
with coffee and chocolate buttercream, but to see if something tastes 
differently after a little cannabis. OK, a lot of cannabis.

A bite. Initially, I feel pure pleasure. Then, horror. The 
buttercream melts away, leaving me left with just dry cake. I feel 
each individual crumb slowly disintegrate onto my tongue. Its dryness 
feels amplified-deeply intimate, even. Still, I finish it, because it's cake.

Next, I revisit one of my all-time most disappointing meals: Thai 
Basil's pad Thai with tofu.

It looks OK when it arrives, although I'm still philosophically angry 
at the stalks of broccoli poking out. What are you doing there, 
broccoli? You don't belong in pad Thai.

As I eat, I realize that, flavorwise, it's sweet and nothing else. 
Lime doesn't help. The cubes of tofu break apart like dry sponges-and 
I like tofu, when it's cooked or marinated or something, anything, 
please. Still, I devour it quickly, soundlessly, because I am high 
and hungry and eating feels good.

Luckily, I have a Rico's Pizza delivery already scheduled, which I 
made while smoking on my couch earlier, of course. Thanks, MyPizza.com!

As I'm walking home, my phone rings and I don't want to answer it. I 
try to avoid answering the phone when I'm inebriated. Then it rings 
again. It's the pizza guy, claiming to be at my building. But he's 
not at my building. I'm at my building. So, I start stonedly arguing 
with the dude, like, come on, what? Then I realize I gave him the 
wrong address, because I was already dazed and confused when I put in 
the order hours earlier. Oops.

Anyway, I get the pizza and immediately flashback to my first 
encounter with Rico's Pizza. My friend thought it'd be a great idea 
to order an extra large Rico's for dinner without consulting anyone 
else, and my other friend wound up crying after one bite. It was, 
without a doubt, the worst pizza I have ever had.

I inspect. The bottom crust oddly splits into two parallel layers. 
The bottom resembles greasy cardboard while the top looks raw. The 
cheese can't possibly be real cheese-there's no stretch to it, no 
flavor. Its sweaty sheen best resembles rubber. Is there even tomato 
sauce? Where does Rico source his mushrooms? They look like shit. I 
am repulsed.

Yet, the process of eating feels too good. Weed doesn't make bad food 
taste any better, it just makes you care less about whatever you're 
forcing down your throat-and the fact that you just spent way too 
much money on awfulness. That slice of cake? $7. The pad Thai? $16 
with tip. Rico's? $20.

I might as well grab another slice.
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MAP posted-by: Jay Bergstrom