Welcome to the avocado-pocalypse. Has anyone made that pun before? No? I’m the first? Great. Moving on…
Good Burger just entered the downtown marketplace, and they didn’t do it quietly. The founder of the burgeoning burger chain recently claimed that they serve “the best fries in Idaho.”
Now, any time you declare yourself the best at anything, you’re probably wrong. Good Burger’s audacious claim is nothing more than shrewd marketing.
But it’s a marketing trap that I will gladly fall for! Enticed by Good Burger’s confidence, I decided to compare it to competing local chain (and member of many a “best French fries” listicle) Boise Fry Company.
Remember Bleubird sandwiches? You know, the best sandwiches ever? Remember how we said goodbye to them forever last January?
And remember how the charming Roosevelt Market looked like it was closed for good?
Treefort descends on Boise once a year, but I think Foodfort’s Street Eats should be a monthly occurrence.
Inspired by the night markets of Asia, the Street Eats event brought together eight of Boise’s finest restaurateurs. They set up shop in the Basque Center and served up killer small plates for 300 lucky people.
At the first Foodfort event of the Treefort festival, chef Bonnie Morales cooked a four-course feast for 100 lucky diners. How good was it? People literally screamed during the meal.
For the past few weeks, I’ve been eating a lot of cheese and noodles. Like, an amount of cheese and noodles that would only make sense if I was carbo-loading for the Tour de France.
And I did that so you could read about mac and cheese. You’re welcome.
I visited the Treasure Valley’s Indian buffets for the Idaho Statesman. You can read about it here.
Only after I gorged at five Indian restaurants in 48 hours did I understand what it means to sacrifice for your craft.
At many times in life, we become tied, whether by our own ignorance or the constant pressure toward cultural conformity, to a certain way of doing things.
The way we hold our forks is an example of this mindless traditionalism. All of us hold our forks a certain way, like this:
Fast-casual Mexican is like a good friend or a stain-removing pen—it’s always there when you need it.
There are healthier, tastier, and more interesting types of food. But nothing will ever support you in a moment of emotional difficulty like a warm $8 burrito.
One of the best things you can do for your quality of life is learn to appreciate the subtle beauty of fast-casual Mexican. And I’m here to help… with an authoritative ranking of the fast-casual Mexican food establishments in Boise.
(These rankings are based on the burrito at each place, the true measure of fast-casual Mexican.)
In case you missed it, here’s my review of State & Lemp for the Idaho Statesman.