Demure Thoughts
Demure is Overrated!
Top Ten Drunk Foods and One Several Glaring Omission!
Author: jen
9 Apr
Philly Cheesesteak
Mini Tacos
Leftover Pizza
Pretzels
Steak and Eggs
Cheese Fries with Gravy
Taco Bell
Leftover Chinese Food
Chips and Salsa
Dominos Thin Crust Philly Cheese Steak Pizza
Wtf???? Where is the Fucking French Toast?
In addition to French Toast I would like to add:
Pancakes
Hamburger Helper Cheeseburger Macaroni
Taco Cabana Beef Fajita Taco
23 Responses for "Top Ten Drunk Foods and
OneSeveral Glaring Omission!"For God’s sake, Whataburger. Yeah, I know it is regional, but nothing says 2:15 a.m. and wasted better than a big juicy Whataburger – it’s the onions.
Second to that anything at IHOP, or here in Houston, House of Pies.
Way, way back in the day it was 3am and Jack In The Box. Because we were so wasted and they were the only thing open. Steam table tacos so old you couldn’t tell where the taco ended and the paper wrap began. Didn’t matter. We just got Xtra large sodas and ate it all anyway.
Jack in the Box Tacos! OMG. The fried taco with american cheese and wilted lettuce in it. Drunken perfection.
Drew458,
For me back then it was a Denny’s Grand Slam breakfast at 3am.
Now a lil further back(I can still almost remember back that far), when I was stoned it was always Nacho Cheese Doritos. Funny thinig is, it was the only time I ever really liked them.
Way back in time, in Ohio, it was White Castle.
OMG! White Castle is excellent! We don’t have them around here, but there were some in Alabama when my parents lived there when I was in college. That would have been GREAT drunk food. Once again, something about the onions.
Totally agree with Kowboy. Jen, I shudder when I remember my trailer park youth eating that cheeseburger hamburger helper once/week.
I’ll also add a delicacy we have in So Cal that most of you haven’t had the pleasure of enjoying. That is the wonderful chili cheeseburger from Tommy’s. It was our mainstay after a drunken night of 80’s dancing and chasing tail. One night my lil brother ate 6 of them. Good times.
The ideal drunken food depends on the location. When I was in college in San Diego, it was an order of three rolled tacos with guacamole and cheese from Roberto’s (or Alberto’s, or Royberto’s, or Elberto’s, or ….). Freshman year, when we went to Tijuana to drink, it was bacon-wrapped hot dogs from a street vendor before coming back across the border. The associated risks that (1) you might contract a violent bout of food poisoning, and (2) you had no idea about the ultimate source of the meat in the hot dogs, just added to the thrill. In San Francisco it’s tacos al pastor from a taqueria. When drunk in New Orleans, a Lucky Dog is the hot ticket when wandering the streets of the Quarter at 3 A.M., but for those started-drinking-at-11:30 days it’s fried-shrimp po’boys and fried green tomatoes from Fiorella’s.
Ah hell, in New Orleans it’s a whole different ballgame. When I was drunk in college, I always ended up in this oyster bar (always too drunk to remember the name – Desire, maybe?) where I always met the most interetsing people. I met a Penthouse photographer once – no really – it wasn’t a come on. He had a reporter with him and it was pretty interesting. No, he didn’t ask me to pose, I was with my boyfriend. Just a great conversation. I met an Irish man travelling around the world hitting all the most historic spots. He was a riot.
Also, Cafe Du Monde – beignets and cafe au lait, of course.
The best place for drunken burger eating was the old Audubon Tavern that is sadly not around anymore. Best greasy bacon burgers anywhere with buckets of beer. Mmm.
There was also this pizza place near Tulane – Fat Albert’s, maybe? It was open all night. Great place to meet Tulane guys – football players, especially.
Also, there were always the muffaletta shops and gumbo on every corner. Good drunk eatin’ in N’awlins, Cher!
Alex, you are spot on. How could I forget my navy days in SD
Rolled taco combo at 2 am is quite the delicacy. And those hot dogs….I ate 9 one night bar hopping in Rosarito. Each one cost $1 and you get little chopped up tomatoes and pickles. Awesome!
Yes, thank you. I saw the headline and knew that I was going to have to shout out “Cheeseburger Macaroni Hamburger Helper.” My favorite beer-drunk food.
For me, drunk food goes by what type of drink you’ve gotten yourself messed up with. Hamburger Helper is good enough for beer-drunk, because beer doesn’t really give me a salt craving. But wine-drunk absolutely cries out for salty food later, like chips or fries or margaritas.
Bruce, I was totally deprived of a normal childhood. I didn’t have hamburger helper until my third or fourth year in college, so in my mind it is inextricably linked with alcohol.
Momotrips, Desire is a great oyster bar—if the one you’re thinking about is in the lobby of the Sonesta (I think) hotel on Bourbon, across whatever the cross street is from the Jean Laffite House. Acme Oyster House is always good too, but can’t recall whether how late they’re open. I had a great drunken feast at Felix’s across the street from Acme many years ago, late after a friend’s wedding with her sisters & sundry guests. All the good oyster bars in NOLA have shuckers who play the role of a great bartender with a lot of personality, cracking jokes with the customers, occasionally giving out free extra oysters as a lagniappe, introducing customers to each other, etc.
Last time I was in NOLA, I discovered that the Clover Grill, an amazing 24-hour greasy spoon on Bourbon where they used to cook burgers on the grill under hubcaps to trap the steam and had some of the most flamboyant screaming queens working behind the counter that I’ve ever seen (and I live in San Francisco), was closed. Had one or two great late-night drunken feasts there many years back. Looking forward to more drunken feasting when I’m there for Jazz Fest next month.
Alex, OMG! I remember the Clover Grill! So many great places are gone, now.
By the way, New Orleans has the “screamiest” of queens, I swear. Definitely more colorful than any other queens I’ve seen – even in San Fran. I remember going to a gallery with my parents as a child and this amazon tranny “woman” managing the place givng me a little voo-doo doll. My parents thought it was very amusing they way I didn’t know quite how to look at her/him. She wore a red sequined dress (in the day time) and a huge Dolly Parton wig and spidery eyelashes and big red high heels. Everyone regarded her as completely normal. That was my introduction to the real New Orleans and I have had a love affair with the city ever since.
As to the Oyster Bar – could be Acme – not Felix’s. Although, usually to eat raw oysters, I have to have killed more than a few brain cells first, so who knows. However, the shuckers were always entertaining. I even found little pearls a couple of times.
Now I have a taste for horseradish and Tobasco…
Ok, this cajun girl from SE Texas has never been to New Orleans. I am hungry now and want to go.
Crap. Now you’ve gone and made this former Avoyelles native hungry…
Jen, can’t believe you’ve never been to New Orleans! You’re such a foodie, too. Stay in one of the bed & breakfasts or a boutique hotel. Melrose Mansion is a favorite for us, but you can get great deals at the big hotel chains. Eat and drink and listen to great music. Shop for immpossibly expensive, but beautiful antiques on magazine street. Buy some art. My Kansas-bred husband took me there when we were first dating and when I dragged him down Magazine street looking at antiques, he held my hand and actually enjoyed himself. HE’S NOT EVEN GAY! I fell in love with him right there and knew I’d marry him.
Faith+1 – you’re one of those Lousiana yankees from NORTH of I-10, huh?
When my parents married, my maternal grandmother told my father that my mother couldn’t cook. My father went out and bought a case of Hamburger Helper and a case of Tuna Helper, and filled the freezer with hamburger and the pantry with tuna. He was still doing this when I was seven years old. That’s how long it took for my mother to get to the point where she was allowed to grocery shop, because we moved someplace that was close enough for my mother to walk to a grocery store. (She was only allowed to drive once that I recall while she and my father were married, and that’s another awful story.)
Needless to say, I still can’t eat Hamburger Helper, and I think it would quite likely make me want to bawl over stupid lost childhood crap if I did.
I think I’ve only been drunk in Denver maybe three times, and one of the times was when we were staying at the Curtis Hotel downtown. Their restaurant (the Corner Office) has fantastic breakfast hangover food.
Alice,
I think that would totally kill my appetite for something as well. My first husband’s mother may have been better off with your father’s philosophy of hamburger and tuna helper.
Mind you, my mother is cajun and my father is mexican so i grew up in a house that always smelled good and dinner was always great because when you have rice and gravy on the plate, you cannot go wrong. The first time I ate dinner with my first husband’s family his mother was “cooking” and placed all the plates on the table etc. She says, “Everyone come eat.” So my ex, his two brothers, their wives, his sister, the four kids, his dad, mom and the two of us move into the FORMAL dining room. They were acting like this was some much anticipated meal, it was her specialties after all. I sit and there is one of those boneless hams in the shape of a can, some baked beans, a salad, and a casserole dish with mashed potatos topped with cheddar. So we all served ourselves and they passed the potatoes and I took a scoop…
I noticed something pink in the potatoes and set the casserole dish down. I picked up my fork to take a scoop of mashed potatoes and my fork stuck into something solid. As I brought it to my mouth I smelled what it was before I saw it… chopped up wieners. I shit you not… the woman had chopped up wieners and put then in the fucking potatoes. They were inhaling this shit like it was ambrosia and I nearly gagged trying to swallow that bite.
It was a traumatizing experience for me and it should have been a warning as to how that marriage was going to end up.
Momotrips said: “Faith+1 – you’re one of those Lousiana yankees from NORTH of I-10, huh?”
Ohhh, them’s fightin’ words! Ain’t no damn Yankee. The border is I-20. Betwixt the two is Coonass Country. I did live for a time up in Virginia, but now am down in Ft Lauderdale. Come to think of it….New Orleans is now north of me…. :D
No offense, but I-20 might as well be Arkansas, cher… I’d never consider Alexandria, Natchitoches, et.al to be the same as Cajun Country. My family is from Acadiana – Jennings, Opelousas, Mamou, Raine, Carencro, Breaux Bridge. Opelousas and Mamou are as far north as we go. I would say though, that as far north as Bunkie you could be considered Cajun or Coonass, anything farther north is “country” and might as well be a different state. So you, dear Faith, may just make the cut. Heh.
I just think it’s funny how different north Louisiana is from south, and how each region and its people (N. SW. S. NE. N.O, West Bank, Baton Rouge, Lafayette & Shreveport) are completely different.
Texas is so much larger, yet there’s not nearly the same diversity amongst the natives regionally. (Non-natives whole different story). Louisiana is just like one of it’s old tourist slogans – “a whole different country”.
And how this relates back to “drunk food” I have no idea…
Not as far north as Bunkie. Simmesport. ;-) You’re right about it being different further north. How does it relate to “drunk food”? Mon cher, anytime you are discussin’ food and drink a cajun or coonass is gonna be nearby, non?
Oui, cher. In this case it is a half mexican/cajun who still has her family in port arthur, texas and Abbeville, La. My paw-paw called me his little peppicoon in reference to my pepperbelly/coonass dna.
Dammit, now I am hungry. I am thinking smothered chicken, rice and gravy, and something green.
Leave a reply