I Seen Her At The Zog’s, Spotted Her More Then Once. Ass So Fat That You Could See It From The Front.

I was just in Whistler for a week. FML. I couldn’t help but to notice an all too common feature found on many of the locals. It’s what’s known as Mountain Ass. I originally assumed this sudden growth in the buttock region was due to aggressive participation in mountain activities: hiking, skiing, boarding and such. The ass muscles are simply being overused. This syndrome is often found in figure skating as well. With the exception of Brian Boitano, most skater’s legs are like that of a Clydesdale. I was surprised to discover that fitness plays a very minor role as to why MA Syndrome is so dominant in Whistler. The primary cause can ultimately be traced to the mass over consumption of spirits and lager, followed by snacking at Zog’s.

At Zogs the deep frying never stops.  This item seen above is next level, totally fucked up shit. It’s called the Canadian Poutine. It starts with fries, cheese curds, and gravy, just like a standard Poutine. To make it truly Canadian a smokie is added as an extra topping. I felt the name didn’t fit, because half way through eating this product I had never felt more embarrassed to be Canadian. Even my American associates where poking fun at this creation. We did of course drink all day week previous to eating this, so technically it doesn’t count. It never counts if you cant remember. I wish this was actually true, but due to this gluttonous act my ass now shakes with little to no effort. I suppose that is something I shall have to remedy.

Note: To the Australian that made my poutine at 1:47am – Next time please use a knife rather then bbq tongs to cut up my smokie. It looked like an animal had it’s way with the dish long before my first bite. I can only imagine serving drunks all night must be a chore, but come on Mate. Have some standards.  Have some self respect. Some people in this town have no class.

Ooh Maltesers. I Believe You Can Get Me Through The Flight.

I don’t usually partake in the sweets, but I happened to enjoy a bag of Maltesers whilst watching Hot Tub Time Machine the other day. What a delightful treat both movie and snack. They compliment the popcorn in such a way. Some claim the Whopper is a superior malt product. This is completely incorrect. Malteasers have a much nicer flavor, and a substantially higher grade of chocolate is used. Whoppers are clearly the poor mans malt.

I’ve  also been known to grab a bag of Maltesers at the airport just before a flight. When I fly, more often then not I am extremely hungover. That’s always a real treat for the central nervous system. The turbulence. The stale air. The scent of the flight attendant’s perfume mixed with washroom.  The sound of her pants  as she walks up and down the aisle. The crying baby. The coughing immigrant. The pretty  lady two rows too far. The chubby couple in his and hers Hawaiian shirts even though we are going to Toronto, WTF? The nausea heartburn indigestion upset stomach gonorrhea. It’s all too much to handle. My anxiety meter reaches an all time high when various crash scenarios begin to play out in my mind. I turn to the Malteser to provide a much needed distraction. The only comfort I have is knowing that If the plane were to indeed go down, I’m going down Maltesing bro.

Note: Maltesers, nature’s Gravol.

Maltesers.

Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.

And If You Want Beef, Then Bring The Ruckus. Gyudonya Ain’t Nothin Ta Fuck With.

Tiger style. Gyudonya is a little spot that recently opened up on Robson St. The savings alone will have me coming back for more. It’s refreshing to find places that are well under 10$ for a whole meal of food. Their bowls range from 5-7$ max. The Short Rib Bowl that I took down certainly brought the ruckus. Bring the motha fuckin ruckus. This place is packed with people everytime I have rolled by, so that must account for something. Much like the Wu, they’re on the swarm.

Gyudonya . Vancouver, BC.

Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.

In My Mind Im Going To Izakaya. Can’t You See The Sunshine. Can’t You Just Taste The Rice Wine.

I drop into extremely over priced, sub par food all the time, but recently it went to far. I paid 17$ for a salad. WTF? Where do these “social lounges” get off charging such prices? Mediocracy has infected Yaletown’s restuarants for far too long. But alas, there is hope for Yaletown yet. Hapa Izakaya has recently opened one of their beloved establishments on Hamilton St. Finally, a place where they won’t bend you over and do as they will.

Hapa’s Chicken salad above is a very reasonable $8.95.  With every crispy bite, you can actually hear yourself getting financially physically thinner. Like most items on the menu, the salad is an ideal dish to be shared. This form of eating initially throws most white people off, as they are not used to sharing food. Fear not, there are so many amazing dishes you will want to try everything. Sharing is of course a multicultural trait, and one not commonly found in Caucasian eating habits. Perhaps this is why places like Earls and Milestones flourish? It’s strange because Jesus allegedly shared all the time, and he was white, wasn’t he? Yeah right. He probably sounded just like the soft spoken James Taylor too. Either way, Hapa rules. Go there. Don’t forget to order the sake. Although once you drop into the rice wine, you are likely to forget everything anyway.

Note: If your one who prefers their own dish,  don’t feel singled out. Pioneers never shared their meals either. At least not with the Indians.

Hapa Izakaya. Yaletown, Vancouver.

Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.

I Ate Chos. Sub Par Chos. Four One Eight Area Codes. (Area) Area Codes (Codes).

I am fully aware the French are extremely fond of cheese, but this was some next level shit. Take a good look at the state of these nachos. Seriously, WTF? They must have used 5 pounds of cheese if they used an ounce. The few tortillas included were burnt as fuck well done, and the condiments came half full. Thats right, half full. How optimistic. Over the years I have been fortunate enough to have dined at many of the sketchiest ski resorts this great nation has to offer. Seldom compare to Mont St. Sauveur’s cafeteria.

At one point my associate Jon went in for a chip, only to find the entire amount of melted cheese attached. As a joke he placed the cheese skin on his face, poked a hole for his tongue, and repeated “I’d fuck me” in a deep voice.  I thought it was a little weird, especially when he proceeded to  add the mangina to his performance.

Note: It was not until long after the routine whilst snacking on those very nachos that I realized Jon’s act was based on that film starring Jody Foster. I think it was… Contact. It must have been either Contact or Panic Room? Regardless, two thumbs way up.

Mont. St. Sauveur. Quebec.

Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.

Everybody Salsa. & Agave.

I was watching BET while eating tacos the other day, and something occurred to me. Black dudes and mexican spots have a few things in common.  First of all, both are usually awesome. Secondly, both seem to be everywhere in America, yet so very scarce in the city of Vancouver. Despite these limitations, one place that is well worth checking out is Salsa and Agave. It’s a small spot near Pacific and Davie St, right beside the DQ Hot Eats, Cool Treats. The waitresses are extremely nice. Most of them sound just like Penelope Cruise, which confirms this place is a legitimate mexican eatery. Wait, Penelope is from Spain. I guess they sound more like Selena? Either way, I would recommend ordering the Tostadas as seen above. The Chorizo Taco is also quite nice. Prices are mellow tokes as well bro. Hit em up hit em up.

Salsa & Agave. Vancouver, BC.

Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.

Hey. Ho. Whineos. Hey. Ho. Whineos.

Whineos, where the wine flows like…wine.  A great crew of peeps run this joint. Whether it be a birthday night, a date night, or a banished from El Furniture Warehouse night, Whineos caters to any affair.

Whineo’s tapas menu is actually somewhat responsible for how Appies All The Time came to be. The constant snacking on small plates rather then eating a whole meal of food has proven to be very desirable, especially with wine and spirits. The Blue Plate Special as seen above is a drunken delight. These open face sliders are an innovative take on the classic mini burger. You won’t use two types of aioli on the slider? That’s right.  Two aioli, one cup.  If you go on Tuesday this very plate is only 4$. Although, use caution. Tuesday is also some sort of College night, filled with youths who spill draft all over my back. This sort activity will cause you to feel old, specifically 30ish. You may think to yourself : Dam son,  its only Tuesday. If I leave right now I can still catch the weigh-ins on BLC.

Note: Although a wine bar, Whineos mixes a Vodka Soda like no other. Also of note:  Sliders are the new black.

Whineos. Vancouver, BC.

Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.

Only Once The Dogs Are Done. That I Feel Like Dying. I Feel Like Dining.

Question: When a foreigner is handed their immigration papers, is there an Ikea catalog included in the “Welcome to Canada” package? The reason I ask,  I’ve noticed Immigrants tend to flock to Ikea like a bird to seeds. Just so you know, my brown father was technically an immigrant once and I adore all ethnic. Im merely relaying what I observed, specifically in the hot dog section. As I waited in this tremendous multicultural line, I closed my eyes and listened. If I didn’t know any better I could swear I was amidst a bizarre in Calcutta. The next time I watch Slum Dog Millionaire and consider booking a trip to India specifically to find that actual girl in the movie, I will eat hotdogs at Ikea instead. Same great experience, one low price.

Note: The dogs are merely a snack, treat them as such. Enjoy only 2 units, no more, no less. How dare they price them at 50 cents each. The unbelievable savings confused my judgement. I made a terrible error. I ate 4. I felt like dying. Of course it was still considered a snack and technically not a whole meal of food so…part of me still felt like dinning.

Ikea. Swedish for common sense.

Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.