This Week in Deliciousness

Categories: Leftovers

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Pictured: Lindsay Lohan's jail cell.
Welcome back to the weekly roundup here at Eating Our Words, where your potato cannon is no match for our pumpkin bazooka. We started the week out by trying some delicious menudo, which is made from tripe. If you're wondering which part of the cow tripe comes from, DON'T. Just don't.

The Texas Vodka Throwndown appears to have been a success, as we're hoping the Houston Chowhounds' silent auction benefiting Gulf fishermen affected by the BP disaster will be. Speaking of which: they finally capped the leak! Surely this means the crisis is over and we'll never hear anything about it ever again.

We heartily recommend following these five fine food folks on Twitter, but have discovered that if you're going to start following them around in real life, the police are going to get all uppity. Talk about your double standards! Why even post where you are on Foursquare if you're not looking to be discreetly shadowed from a nearby alley? It's kind of like how if you homebrew a certain type of alcohol, you're a hobbyist, but if you make a few minor tweaks, suddenly you're a moonshiner! It's just not fair.

Zoe's kitchen seems pretty good for a chain restaurant, and Hatterman's eggs are local and cruelty-free, but we hear they taste good anyway. We tried some cruelty-free veal once, but it just wasn't the same without all the little calf tears.

We had two kinds of cookies this week; one you can make in a skillet, and one you can make with clearly inferior ingredients. The choice is yours.

As you know, it's every woman's dream to be part of a big-ass fruit salad, and luckily, there are several places around town that can make that happen. Whipped cream is optional, but sexy.

Want a really cheap martini made by a dangerously overworked and underappreciated bartender? Voice is the place for you. Our sympathy has limits, though; if it's thanks you want, don't ever be a bartender. Instead of vocalized gratitude, bartenders usually have to settle for huge amounts of tips and plenty of sex.

We understand there was some kind of kicky-ball championship recently, but the only sporting event we really give two shits about was the Kolache Olympics. It turns out kolaches are delicious, but practically worthless in a relay race and extremely poor swimmers.

If you're a bahn mi fan, good news: There's a new place in town serving up the tasty, cheap Vietnamese sandwiches from behind an iron curtain. Well, you know, sometimes the tapioca tea can make folks a little rowdy. Not far from there is a good spot for frozen yogurt, where you and your friends can go and crack endless jokes about that one episode of The Simpsons. Don't pretend you don't know which episode I'm talking about, dammit.

Diet Snapple almost certainly saved Bret Michaels's life, and we personally can't wait to see holistic medicine fans swilling it by the gallon simply because we told them to, sort of like that time we told them not to eat at the awesome Hobbit Cafe because they cook their dishes with real hobbit meat. People who believe in holistics will believe in anything, and you can trust us: we're all licensed Holisticians, with degrees from the accredited and world-renowned Dharma Koala Institute of Holistic Medicine and Cryptozoological Research. Yes, we do still have a few bottles of the arthritis salve made from Bigfoot penis, but order now, they're going fast.

We close out the week with a horribly disappointing brownie food fight. Do people still go to Rice Epicurean Market? If so, why? If you want overpriced hippie groceries, go to Whole Foods, at least they have that awesome Philly cheese steak soup. Seriously you guys... that soup. Unf.


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