More Than Just Quesadillas...

We are about two weeks away from the first day of spring and already it is beginning to feel like summer out there.

The short time we had with "winter", a few nights that dipped in the 30s and days where you had to bring a hoodie just in case, is pretty much all but gone. And I like the cold. I'm from northern California where temps huddle around the 50 degree mark for most of the seasons. In fact, summer has always been the foggiest due to the inland getting so toasty and bringing the dense moisture towards it. I wont quote Mark/Sam Twain/Clemens right now but I'm sure you are familiar with his saying of the coldest winter he ever spent.

Yeah.

See? Tacos, tortas, more stuff like that

It was one of those unseasonably warm days that we lit out in search of some entertainment and shade (aka, the movies, we saw "Logan" and, wow, yeah...wow) but beforehand we needed some vittles and refreshment.

Being in the area of Grant and Craycroft we were lucky to find a hidden away food hut nestled between a convenience store and a crappy cell phone retailer just off that busy corner. It may have been a bit rough getting there and the parking wasn't great but once we stepped foot inside we knew that things were about to get a whole lot better.

The house namesake...so good

The Quesadillas is not that new by any standard. Opening up with little to no fanfare in late December of 2015, it has been the online reviewers and social media sharers over the past year that has gotten this cozy grub shed some respect and notoriety, and rightfully so.

Having only been there once before it was time to check back in and see if the food was still as good as the first time.

No.

It was better.

Movin' on down the line

The place was packed this day. The other time we were here we were the only ones in the place. But a late lunch crowd had crammed into the tight space, a line almost out the door, but luckily we found a table under the TV that was happily showing an episode of "The Chew".

We love that show. Hi Carla!

If the name of your place is The Quesadillas then, well, we better order up some quesadillas. So we got a selection: the carne asada, pollo asado, the championes (mushrooms) and a plain bean and cheese variety. The smiling girl at the counter rung us up and the two guys manning the kitchen were a fury of haste and preparation. Even with a full house our food came out quite expeditiously so we wasted no time and dove in.

Such simple splendor

A place such as The Quesadillas isn't going to change the world (well, it might...) but quality food made with quality ingredients by qualified folk could change your outlook on things.

It was stuffy in the place but we didn't mind. The meat was mesquite grilled and seasoned with care, the cheese had a really good pull and smoothness to it and above all the salsas were tangy, tart and well crafted. Every bite was a treat and every variation of a quesadilla was a simple masterpiece. The last time we were here we tried their ribeye tacos and, man, those lil' cajolery folded bits of madness enticed and delighted. All of it, so most awesome.

You don't need much more than this. Plus with prices barely breaking the $5 mark, you can see why they were jammed on a rather hot day an hour or so past the prime lunch rush.

No wonder we had such a rough time finding parking, everyone in the immediate area had the same idea as us. Huh.

Smart people.

Go ahead, pile it on

It may not look like much from the outside and, sure, it can be a bit of a hassle to find it, get there and then if you're lucky nab a table, but if you can muster up the courage to brave a slight hindrance you will be well rewarded by delicious food cooked and served by talented and kind people.

Oh, and be sure to try their flan, some of the best we have ever had...and we're not big on desserts. It looks more like a cake but tastes more like a spongy sweet custard loaf, one that was mixed and baked in some angelic blessed gilded kiln. Although Anita does a pretty good job as it is.

We think that was her name.

Owning and operating a Mexican restaurant here in Tucson is a risky endeavor; so so much competition. But a place like The Quesadillas will do fine because they only have a few things on the menu and the few things they do have on the menu are uncomplicated yet so complex. You need to get there and try at least one of each.

That's what we plan on doing.

You ready?

Let's do it!

Flan you very much

Camera, Typing and Eating
"Metal" Mark Whittaker
A Perfect Afternoon in March, 2017

Metal Influence:

SLAYER

"Kill Again"

Culinary Crimes Against Humanity: A Hot Dog Stuffed Crust Pizza!

As you may or may not have noticed but we here at the Tucson Homeskillet are a brave/dumb lot. Eating the worst rated burrito in town, going to strip clubs for the free food...this normally doesn't equal a strong mental constitution nor sympathy for the stomach. But, whatever. If it involves interesting or unusual food here in Tucson, coming from a chain restaurant or local hub, we will rise to the challenge and give you an honest report.

Even if it (almost) kills us.

So when we got word that a long running corporate pizza operation decided to stuff their crusts with variations of depression, we took it upon ourselves to see what was going on and, more importantly, why in the name of all that is sacred are they doing this to us. I mean, we can kind of see garlic bread stuff crusts, that "almost" makes sense, but this particular blend of hate and mockery shook the food loving foundation that was built around this silly website, literally, to our core and we just had to see, and taste, for ourselves if it is and was as horrifying as it seems.

Talking about the hot dog stuffed crust pizza.

God send death!

It seems of late that the powers that be in corporate kitchens are either A) so freakin' high that they keep coming up with concoctions such as this because they have infinite resources and why the hell not or B) they are simply trying to destroy mankind.

Honestly, it seems a little of both. Perhaps this particular pizza conglomerate has some meth'd out wizard locked away in some tower somewhere where he juggles pots filled with random ingredients and high powered drugs because they keep doing this to us on a fairly regular basis.

I mean, okay, like I said before, I can kind of see a cheesy garlicky stuffed crust pizza; it's sort of in the same ballpark, aka "Italian". But to foist upon the sweaty masses a pizza crust filled with hog part tube meat just seems a little extraneous. No wonder the rest of the world hates us and our obesity rate is higher than those that graduate from college...it's because of crap like this. Am I right?

Oh well. It's food and there's a few of these places in Tucson, so...why not? Let's eat us some hot dog stuffed crust pizza shall we?

As if the mummy toe lookin' weiner nub is trying to say: "If you have any mercy, please kill me now."

So the Homeskillet gathered up at our favorite watering hole, then suckered, I mean..."enlisted" a couple of our good friends, brought with us one veggie and one peperoni hot dog stuffed crust pizzas, set them out and let loose the taste test. A few brave souls putting their life on the line just so the public can be safe from such poisonous treachery against you, your family and your butt.

God bless these soldiers sent from fooder heaven!

Anyway, here are the hot dog stuffed crust pizza eaters and their stories.

First up is:

Our favorite bartender shares a taste of the "challenging" and, shall we say, "creative" when it comes to gastro festivities with us such as ranch dressing dipped pretzels, literally anything involving meat and potato chips with flavors such as "Waffle House", "Democracy" and "Grandpappy's Shoe Horn". So, honestly, I wasn't too surprised when after she bit into it and took a bite of the hot dog crust, she made this face:

"Hmmm..."

And here is what she had to say about it:

"I was prepared for Hell to be unleashed upon my taste buds. But, instead, I got a surprisingly 'not bad' flavor explosion in my mouth. Way to up your game corporate pizza place!"

Okay. So that's one opinion so far and it was a pretty favorable one. Not bad. But what about someone that is not as adventurous or deviant when it comes to eating wacky food?

It looms, like crying children in the night...

Next up, we have:

To be honest with you Anna had no idea that she was going to be taking part in a pizza eating event. She was just here with her sister, to have a nice time, when suddenly, WHAM!, here comes a chunky 40 something year old Metalhead with a piece of greasy pizza with lil doggers crammed in the crust.

At first she was hesitant, but then she loosened up, took a bite and had this to say:

"I thought I was going to have a stroke. But it just reminded me of hot dog crescent rolls stuck to the end of a bad piece of pizza. First I ate the pizza, then I ate the hot dog bites and it was like two meals in one! Is that....good?"

It's great. Really, you all are doing so good.

Like the Emperor saying to Luke: "You...want...this?"

So far, so...not bad. It seems the first two eaters deemed the pizza "passable" if not slightly "relatively okay".

But we carry on! And next up to the greasy plate is:

For a guy who likes him some good ol' Nordic Black Metal and anything Zakk Wylde touches, JB seemed out of sorts about doing this. C'mon man! Do you think axe wielding Vikings would be a-scared of some cheese and tomato spread topped bread lined with artificial hog grindings served with a mustard dippin' sauce? (I forgot to mention that didn't I? Yeah. This noise came with a mustard dipping sauce. Sorry.)

Dogs, pizza, glop and alcohol in repose

Well, he finally gave in, ate a slice, stared out into the abyss and had this expression on his face for quite some time:

(cue ambient black vortex sound here)

JB's take on the whole hot dog stuffed crust pizza extravaganza?

A silent gaze that only read: "I am either going to kill Metal Mark for making me do this or retreat to the whispering hills where I can live in peace and religious freedom so far far away from food items such as this..."

Fair enough. So we just left JB to his own personal reassessment of all of the choices he has made in life and we move on to:

Giggling most of the time at the prospect of eating such turd-osity, Rizz was actually kind of excited to explore the furthest reaches of corporate sponsored rampage and dove in once the pizza was within her reach.

The RiZzA, going for it...

First the pizza. Then the dog slab. Then this:

Please note JB still not looking too well after his encounter with the pizza. Pray for him...

And the result?

That's the look of a woman who was about to eat poison but was happy that it was in fact not. And here is what she had to say about it:

"I really wanted to hate this and was almost certain that I would, but...I don't. What does that say about me?

I live!

"The crust was almost croissant like, not too chewy and not too doughy. The pizza was...meh. Pretty unremarkable. That being said, that's pretty much my response to most pizza being that it's pretty hard to fxxk up pizza. The dogs were terrible, visually; they looked hauntingly like cooked toes. But dipped in that hockey mustard? Not half bad. I wouldn't order it myself, but....if it was around, I'd get down on some toe crusted 'za again. Shamefully."

"See, I told you I wouldn't be that bad." Shut up pizza!

Wow. My plan to thwart the corporate hate train of drippy food muck has not gotten the results I wanted. Folks seem to dig the hot dog stuffed crust pizza, if not tolerate it. I was a little shocked. This assignment felt like an easy one, one that would have me snark my way all through the meters and set notions that a lame chain store pizza dotted with hot dog nibbles would provide enough regurgitation fodder that this whole dumb blog would be slathered with laughable bits and easy lampooning of the fare.

But, no. Not really. My friends seem to like it enough to not despise me enough because I put them through the Tucson Homeskillet "I dare you to eat this" ringer. So it seemed set, the hot dog stuffed crust pizza was not terrible. Huh.

Of course, now it was my turn:

Yep. Here I am about to bite into my first slice of the pizza. I was a little nervous (and, actually, a little hungry) but I had organized this treaty tryst and now I had to belly up to the beast and do my duty.

Which end to I start at first? Does it matter?

I ate the pizza. I ate the dogs. I dipped them in the mustard dip. I did. I ate the whole thing.

And here is my take on the whole thing:

(Note: no change of expression)

Yeah. The face says it all. The pizza is just fast food style with nibblets of franks at the end that you can tear off and eat as a separate entity or combine the two to create a haphazard monopoly of flavor crash that any half baked dorm room couch jockey would deem "not mad at this situation going on here right now."

Didn't hate it. Didn't really like it. It was and is what is was and is. So I decided to leave it at that. A shrug and a closing of the pizza box. On to the next food challenge...

But not until we get a real opinion on the whole hot dog stuffed crust pizza business. The one true overlord of all things eating that goes on within the Tucson Homeskillet.

I'm talking about:

That's right. Our cat. I set a piece in front of her and with her usual glare after I subject her to another mess of food sadness, she just looked up at me and said:

(Light meowing) Which translated to:

"Tonight, when you sleep, I will straight murder you."

 You're welcome Lil Poundcake. I love you too...

Camera and Typing
"Metal" Mark Whittaker
Late July, 2015

Metal Influence
SLAYER, "God Hates Us All"

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8lA437iOS-Y