Happy Halloween!

No real Southern inspired BBQ in Tucson you say? Forget that...Mr. Cookmans is here to the rescue!

When I first moved to Tucson over ten years ago, for some reason I thought I was relocating to a bar-be-que mecca. It's the Southwest thing I suppose; me being a Northern California kid I just had this image of steaks and ribs being turned and burned over wild fire spits, their juices running, hissing as they touch down on the coals with slathered wet rubbed skins crisping as the pit master perfectly angling them on the grill sending a quick flame up from the oak and mesquite wood smoldering below. 

Yeah, what I got was...not really that. 

Okay, I was lucky enough to find some outposts most would deem "dive bars" that know how to cook a good slab of meat, the occasional BBQ joint that served up some authentic fare but then they would go out of business and then the chain places everyone seems to like/accept that, in my humble 'que opinion, were not even close to the previously mentioned idealistic vision I had splayed in my wet and/or dry rubbed deprived mind. The seemingly one game in town, that for some reason always wins best BBQ in Tucson (which I wont mention here by name), is a constant disappointment, along with being really over priced. So what's a big BBQ fan living in the Old Pueblo supposed to do?

Because of my constant disappointment, one morning I went out and bought us a way-too-big-for-our-patio grill/smoker and we just did it ourselves. But...it wasn't the same. Our grilling was good but not like the miracles I have had in Texas or the deep south or a small place in some ramshackle strip mall just off Cienega Blvd. in Los Angeles, owned and operated by some southern transplants that brought ma and pa's secret chicken rub to the big city, a recipe that's been handed down from generation to generation. 

THAT is the kind of BBQ realness we have been craving. 

Are you ready Tucson? Because here it comes...

So when I heard about a food truck going by the name of Mr. Cookman's, claiming to offer up "real New Orleans style BBQ" I just had to find out for myself if this outfit was the actual deal. 

It didn't take long, just a bite or two mind you, for me to render this fact as law:

Yes. Yes, this is the BBQ I have been looking for. 

The ribs were coated in a sweet and zesty sauce and the meat peeled its way from the bone without even asking it to. The chicken had this smoky appeal and was seasoned with a definite southern influenced spice rub. And the sausage. Oh, the sausage had this hearty snap when you bit into it and was by far the best I have had in quite some time, probably since my travels through the south. And don't even get me started on the pulled pork sliders. Holy nards...

All I could say at that point, after much 'que carnage, was "Thank you Mr. Cookman's. You my only friend..."

Small menu, big decisions

Mr. Cookman's is owned and operated by a New Orleans, LA native Jonathan Hebert who runs the bright orange truck only on weekends since he has so much going on outside of cooking and keeping the lights on. 

"I'm actually in school right now working on a Ph.D in Business Administration," he informs as the works the line in his truck and the hungry line forming outside. "In fact, I'm actually an Electrical Engineer, which brought me to Tucson in the first place back in 2007 working for a defense company. I'm more on the management side now but I still have a passion for the technical aspects as well."

Mr Cookman's devotees lining up

With that knowledge thrown at me I had to know how it came about for him owning a food truck. 

"It's crazy", he mentions with a grin. "I was attending a conference for a fraternity in Baton Rouge and some friends and I were discussing business moves and such. I told them I saw this guy selling food out of a truck in Tucson and thought that would be a good idea. The next day we see this old grill in a field of grass, all rusty and huge, and thought it was funny because we were just talking about starting a food business. Around this time my fraternity was hosting a large block party in downtown Baton Rouge serving all kinds of food for the people. On our way to the party my friend just slams on the brakes of his car because the car in front of him, that we were following to the party, did the same. Turns out there was this old van parked in a field next to a barber shop and my friend says 'Y'all have to try this man's food'.

"There was this guy next to the van selling food plates. I bought a plate and I said to myself as I'm eating this man's food it was no coincidence that I would start selling food myself. Two weeks later I sold my first two lunch plates to some friends outside of the Tucson mall. At first I sold food out of my old Cadillac but business started to grow so I had to buy a truck. The rest is history!"

Jonathan first takes the orders then makes the orders

Now that Jonathan had the truck, he now had to come up with a name for his new and expanding business. 

"I was doing a Vlog for one of my social media sites at the time to let them know I was selling food," Hebert explains on the origin of Mr. Cookman's. "I was just saying stuff off the cuff and out came Mr. Cookman's. The name has been with me ever since and I'm always surprised at how many people address me as such when I'm out in public."

Slow cooked to perfection

Busy with school, busy with life and now busy with the truck, I asked what a typical day for him looks like.

"I'm usually up at  6am," says Jonathan lifting ribs out of the warmer. "I check emails, my calendar, social media and then I'm off. After work I usually write a few pages of dissertation for school and I'm hopefully asleep by midnight or even 1am. Food selling days, I am only focused on the business. Once I'm dressed I hit my commissary to start cooking. I load the truck and head out to the site and start setting up. 

"This is when I am in 'my space'; every problem in the world disappears when I am selling food. Time dissolves, nothing distracts me - just me, my food and my customers. I am so blessed that I always sell out."

Winner, winner

"Mr. Cookman's was not my first business," he mentions with a bit of a sly smile. "I guess you could say I've always had that "hustler" spirit since I was young. Believe it or not I have about two decades worth of selling things and I'm only 34 now. 

"In grade school and high school I always sold snacks to my fellow classmates. If I needed something I worked hard and saved to get it. In college I used my experience of selling snack foods into selling computers. Now I'm back to selling food. 

"I guess I've come full circle."  

Jonathan coming full circle with flavor

Here's the thing: outside of all the 'business' aspects, the 'hustling' and selling, Jonathan knows how to cook food. Like I said earlier, his BBQ was some of the best I have had anywhere. So he had to have gotten those skills somehow.

But how?

Smoker doing work

"I think it grew out of being in the Boy Scouts,"  Jonathan muses with a grin about what got him into cooking. "We were on a camping trip and we all cooked this simple dish, 'chicken in foil', which was seasoned chicken, with onions, wrapped in foil and cooked over hot coals. For some reason that flavor always stuck with me. I tried to do it in the oven years later but it just wasn't the same. I realized that it was the coals that gave it all the flavor. Since then I have been a fan of anything BBQ related. And I watch a lot of cooking shows."

Servin' it up to another lucky customer

It seems that Jonathan and I have a lot in common: we obsess over real BBQ and watch way too much Food Network. We chatted about some of the BBQ cook-off shows that we both love and I had to ask what makes New Orleans style BBQ its own trait and technique?

The snap and texture on these things was insane!

"To me," he says gesticulating wildly over a grill sizzling with sausages, "New Orleans style can be described the same way you describe New Orleans food in general - savory, spicy with a hint of Creole and Cajun flavor. The key to New Orleans style cooking is the use of cayenne pepper, Louisiana sugar cane, and a special blend of hardwoods which I use to for infusing smoke flavor into the meats."

Amen to that my man!

Sausage, beer and mac 'n cheese: in repose

Now flushed with knowledge of Louisiana style BBQ, I had to ask what he considers his signature dish. 

"Oh man, it's hard to pick out a signature dish," Jonathan admits as he rubs his gloved hands together. "I must say it's got to be my best seller which is the pulled pork sliders. However the ribs and fried chicken do have a cult following. Honestly I treat every dish like a signature dish. If it does not pass my taste buds," he proudly proclaims, "the public will not see it!"

Having tried all of the above, yes, it would be difficult to pin down a signature dish from this man. All of them distinct, all of them tasty and succulent in their own way. I would have a hard time picking one out. But I don't have to. 

I'm just the eater and writer here...

Handsome boy modeling school ordering it up

"Actually, I'd have to say the fried chicken, but I say this with a grain of salt!", chimes Hebert lifting a stern finger in the air when I asked what his favorite item to cook was. 

"I like the fried chicken because it's not easy to cook. You have to watch it and make sure the temperature is constantly under control. It requires the most attention and love...and I believe you call that 'soul food'." 

I just used that roll to sop up my tears of joy

With the growing population of food trucks happening here in Tucson, the competition is getting fierce. Not that Jonathan has much to worry about because his food is simply incredible and he is basically one of the only real mobile BBQ options in the area. But running a food truck is hard work and he had this to say on what drives him to do it. 

"It's the challenge," he concedes. "It's the pride of ownership but most importantly it's the ability to give more. The challenge of being a small business owner is to figure out how to be one of the small businesses that can help drive the economy and help provide opportunities to others."

Good words from a very good man. 

You can taste the joy Jonathan puts into his food

Now that he's been in Tucson for a while, and this being the Tucson Homeskillet, I had to know what Jonathan thought about the food culture here in the Old Pueblo. 

"Believe it or not," he says dishing up a pile of beans, ribs and his seven cheese mac 'n cheese for a patron, "the amount of restaurants here in Tucson is comparable to the amount of restaurants in New Orleans. I seem to find new spots every month or so. You could go somewhere new everyday and get a taste of foods from different cultures. However, I do see some voids in the marketplace and, well, some of which I plan to capitalize on in the future."

That hustler spirit will never diminish. 

Bow before rib mecca

Speaking of the future, here's what Jonathan had to say about his upcoming plans, projections and prospects in times to come. 

"I would like to get my products in high schools, universities and grocery stores," he claims. "My plans outside of cooking is to open another business that is focused on personal finance and savings. I get asked all the time: 'How do you do it? How do you open a business that makes money?' 

"My philosophy on business is a more "down to Earth" approach than anything you can read in a textbook. So it seems only right that I provide my service into those interested in learning business. Overcoming the low points is the only way to grow a business. But I have many repeat customers that swing by the truck then go home to spend time with their families. People are actually creating moments with my food!

"And that...is a definite high to me."

With that, and me on a meat and food high, all I could do at that point was thank him, thank the Boy Scouts, thank his friends for pulling over and eating mystery grub from some dude in a van and thank his ever present hustler mentality. Jonathan and Mr. Cookman's may have different plans for the future, but as far as the present is concerned, we can all appreciate his gift of BBQ right now. 

Cheers!
 

Metal Mark in his natural habitat: a food mess

Camera and Typing
"Metal" Mark Whittaker
Late Second Week of October 2015


Metal Influence

Down

"NOLA"

Who You Gonna Call When It's Late and You Want a Sweet Treat? The Tucson Cookie Company!

When I was a kid growing up in the suburbs of Los Angeles, there was this delivery service known as the Pink Dot. How it got that name or why it's even called that, please...I do not know. Anyway, at the time, I was too young to appreciate it then, but you could order up some sandwiches and chips from the Pink Dot...along with cigarettes, beer, booze, condoms and porn mags. 

It sounded amazing, I'm sure it was, but as a dopey Dungeons and Dragons playing, "Star Wars" watching, arcade loitering pre-teen I had no idea how awesome that service really was. Not until I found myself back in LA during my "college" years much later where we utilized the service of the Pink Dot and as a twenty something, Heavy Metal addicted, pot smoking, beer drinking nice guy neer-do-well, it was incredible. Outside of all of the vice laden articles we had dispatched, we also threw in some ice cream and frozen burritos to satiate our, uh...cravings that evening. 

It was brilliant. Imagine just sitting there, watching re-runs of "Who's the Boss" when suddenly a deep hankering comes over you and you're all: "Man, I could really go for some cookies and ice cream right now, but, I don't wanna make 'em and I certainly don't wanna leave the house to get them. So..."

Well decent citizens of Tucson (especially around the UofA area), you are in luck because there is a delivery service that will bring quality cookies, ice cream and even milk to your front door. 

It's called, cleverly enough, The Tucson Cookie Company. 

Scott Rosen, doing what he do...

Founded in 2012 by Scott Rosen and a partner the idea was simple: Deliver hot and fresh baked cookies from a fixed menu to sweet toothed Tucsonans late at night. Brilliant.

They see me rolling, I'm ballin'...

"The Tucson Cookie Co. was created when a partner of mine and I looked at what we had available," says Scott balling up a signature chocolate chip cookie, "skill wise, property wise, and dream wise.  We thought Tucson could use a late night sweet venue. In order to test the demand for such a product and service, the Cookie Company was set-up in an existing restaurant that has been operated by one of the Company's owners for the past fifteen years."

Smash it up!

Yes, when Chaffin's diner closes, that's when Scott and his delivery team get to work. Once the omelette pans have been put away and the coffee pots cooled, The Tucson Cookie Company springs into action and is ready for the first order when they begin at 6pm and take the last one a half hour before closing (3am Thursday-Saturday and midnight Wednesdays and Sundays). 

I was lucky enough to smell this, you're gonna have to order to do so...

"A typical Cookie Company day" muses Rosen as he flattens a cookies and cream pizza cookie, "is I spend the afternoon shopping for supplies and prepping dough.  We open for deliveries at 6pm with out first order typically going out the door around 6:30pm.  We bake to order all night long with an emphasis on individual cookies or dozens of cookies early, in and out, with our infamous pizza cookies being popular later in the evening."

M&Ms in cookies just spells 'Mmmmmm'...

Here's the thing: The Tucson Homeskillet wouldn't be spotlighting these guys if they were putting out garbage snack fare. Oh sure, it might be easy to just slop together some crap ingredients warm them up and begrudgingly drive it over to your pad and expect repeat business because, hey!, I'm the only cookies and milk delivery service anywhere! 

Screw that. Scott knows what he is doing and the Tucson Cookie Company provide a quality product at a really good price. The sweet fare is delicious, chewy and baked to perfection. Even if you the patron is baked to perfection, you can't help but admire the care and technique that goes into each and every order. 

Balls of glory...

"All of the cookie recipes  are proprietary and created by me," beams Scott rather proudly.   "The only exception is my chewy ginger cookie. That was my favorite growing up.  It was taught to me by my Mom and is a family recipe."

To quote Carcass: Tools of the trade!

All of the cookies, obviously, are made by hand fresh everyday. The milk comes from a conscious smaller dairy provider and the ice cream is provided by a longstanding drug store known for their amazing vanilla option. In fact this place was a staple when I was a lil tyke growing up in Glendale, CA and we used to either skateboard or bike out of our way to get a scoop of this frosty globed goodness. 

No wonder these guys are killing it. Because...they're killing it man. 

Fantasticalness as far as the eye can see...

As Scott dollops rows of near sensuous rounds of soon to be consumed cookies onto a sheet about to go into the oven, he informs me with pride "All cookies are made from scratch with no artificial preservatives. We use fresh eggs, real butter and only pure vanilla."

The idea behind all good and successful businesses always start with a single or very limited line of product, you do that one thing really well, keep it up, and the people will come and they will most importantly come back for more. And that's exactly what Scott and the Tucson Cookie Company are doing. 

Seven different varieties of cookie, three grades of milk and vanilla ice cream. Done. To perfection. 

A little sprinkle goes a long way...

When asked about the trials of being a small business owner in Tucson, Rosen had this to say as he was boxing up some ginger and M&M filled cookies. 

"The highs are definitely seeing this business grow and be accepted by the community.  The low points are, unfortunately, dealing with people who want special treatment, or are super drunk, or just want to be jerks. 

"We make cookies...who wants to be a jerk to a guy that makes cookies?"

With orders coming in, I noticed that Scott was making a bunch of different items but also a lot of the same. Seems that he and the Cookie Company have tapped into a few options that are super popular with the late night snack attack crowd.

Like Mom used to make...but she never delivered.

"The classic chocolate chip is the most popuar of all our cookies by at least two to one", he informs boxing up a half dozen of his toothsome creations. "I think its because its classic, it’s like mom used to make.  It’s warm, fresh, soft, can satisfy a sweet tooth, and if needed, provide that comfort you might need when it's dark out."

I can totally see just left the home university students missing mom's (or dad's...they have skills too you know) homemade cookies and when the time comes when it's quiet and the strange feeling of being thrust into the real world sinks in, you're gonna want a feeling of home and a taste of something yummy and familiar. 

Let Scott and the Tucson Cookie Company be your surrogate when that time does arrive. 

Line 'em up, I'll take it!

"Why not cookies for delivery?" after I asked the obvious. "There is Jimmy Johns, Eat-a-Pita, and pizza and Chinese for delivery in general.  Obivously there are more options but as you get later in the evening it slims to pizza and the occasional sandwich.  We wanted to offer a dessert that is popular and is often made to taste machine or bulk made.  I pride myself on the fact that these are homemade.  Also, because delivery rocks!"

And what about the future for the Tucson Cookie Company?

"Our plans for the immediate future are to keep growing and serving cookies to Tucson. In that we hope to me hope our very first storefront where can serve more of Tucson.  

We also hope that down the road to open more locations."

That said, I left as Scott was dealing with more orders coming in and it wasn't even close to 8pm yet. His night had just begun and the Tucson Cookie Company is only just beginning as well. 

All I can say about that, is...sweet.

"Metal Mark...get out. I'm busy here! No, seriously...who are you?"

Camera and Typing
"Metal" Mark Whittaker
Early October, 2015


Metal Influence:

Melvins

"Oven"

Consuming More Garbage Food For Your Pleasure: Wacky Potato Chips and a Sandwich Stuffed with Uninspired Hatred

That's right. The Tucson Homeskillet crew is back in action and this time we ate a crap load of crap. Again. It's what we do. For your entertainment. And to feed our ridiculous cravings for even more ridiculous flavors that the corporate juggernaut keeps sending our way, we went full throttle this time. Four crazy potato chip flavors that only a drugged out Tourettes victim might imply as "tasty" and a sandwich that I know one did create.  I mean...who thinks up stuff like this? The question is, why do they keep doing stuff like this? 

Remember the 90s? Yeah. Well ,back then, due to the incline and demise of the fated "grunge" era, things were all about being extreme. Cartoons were more nutty and extreme, music, of course, was becoming splintered and extreme, but what I noticed most was the flavors, ideas and presentation of food was becoming the buzzword of the moment...extreme! Dips, tacos, hoagies, flan, coffee drinks and all things fast and junk food suddenly went 'extreme'. What did this mean? Not too sure. I was too busy trying to navigate random "dot com" jobs and discovering, well, extreme doom metal. But the label was everywhere. Thing is, when you purchased a bag of extreme Doritos, you were wont to find that it just had more of that infernal yet highly addictive nacho dust sprinkled on every triangle. Big deal? Does adding a tad more mulch on already crap munchables make it extreme? Screw you crazy corporate food wizard, locked in your tower of decadence filled with heavy pharmaceuticals and pots roiling with your infused power of giggling hate and crotch salt! You don't scare us. Not now....not ever. 

That it...until right now now. 

Lately the powers that be have thrust upon the shivering masses a line of potato chips so vile and bizarre that only we of the Tucson Homeskillet stomach pumpage can endure and appreciate...well, that and thousands of others out there that have Tweeted, Instagramed, Snapchatted and all around asked people "Dude, have you tried this?" about such edible nonsense. So we had a taste test recently and here are the results. 

Here's the thing. Because this one went a little long and beyond the stretch of our normal "just one item, like a foul burrito or horrifying pizza", I had to call upon the power of uncle James Hetfield (he's not really my uncle, he's just been around so long and that title has just stuck throughout the years....you understand) and the power of his infamous "YEAHs!" to aid in letting you know how we felt about the products. You get the picture, yeah? 

Okay. Here we go.

For those about to snack, we salute you.

We lined up the bags for all to try and discern with these four new and utterly fantastic/why God why? flavors: Biscuits and Gravy, Reuben Sandwich, Truffle Fries and Gyro. 

If you've kept up at all with what Lays potato chips have been up to, recently they have had 'contests' of who can come up with the craziest flavor profile and the winners will get their harrowing creations somehow made and produced.  Thing is how...HOW can the crazy corporate wizard recreate such flavors as a Reuben sandwich? Or Truffle fries? Truffle fries!? C'mon man. Sure, there are endless memes out there with folks making up their own un-doable flavors such as Benedict Cumberbatch, Tears of my Enemies (extra salty), Virginity and Everybody Forgot My Birthday, but these four bags are filled with straight up mystical science gone freaky pothead and we couldn't wait to actually see, and taste, what they were all about. 

First up, was this one:

Yeah. Let's do this. 

So on the first bite of this particular chip we got a strong sausage flavor and a weird creamy character right away. The follow up was a distinct buttery biscuit note that drove me back to long road trips traveling through the South and stopping in small diners to soak up the previous night's excesses. Strangely enough, I liked this chip. Because of the memory of early morning breakfasts in  small truck stops somewhere in Louisiana, the biscuits and gravy flavor made the top of the list. Some didn't like it...heck some even grimaced and spat when they put the crispy weirdness in their mouth. For me though, I kind of liked the combination of breakfast food meets late night snack while watching an endless parade of "Archer" episodes flavor combo. 

Still, how is this accomplished? How did the flavors of sausage and gravy get followed up by  a homemade biscuit? It freaked me out a little. No. A lot. Still. To this day.

Regardless, it was pretty tasty. 

With that, uncle James gives the biscuits and gravy potato chip a regaling:  

Next, came the Reuben:

As a certified deli fanatic and a worshiper of all things pastrami, I was really curious/horrified about trying this one out. The first bite was subtle; I didn't really get any "meat" taste until a few chews later. But then, ba-jango!, there it was. Not a huge cured deli meat sensation but there was a distinct hook of one. Whoa.

Then the real head scratching moment hit when I began to get hints of thousand island dressing. Holy Diver! How is this done?  Because of the Reuben flavored chip idea, I really wanted to be in the flavor lab to see what torturous combination of dusts, chemicals and fairy dung it took to make this happen. 

The Reuben chips, for me anyway, weren't as good as the Biscuits and Gravy (although most seemed to like this one better but...this is my food website so what I say goes!) but I did like it. 

Good thing I didn't get any twinges of sauerkraut because if you know me, you know how much I hate sauerkraut. Blecch. Like crappy cabbage gone bad from sitting in the toilet too long then you want to throw that junk on my sandwich? Aww, heeeeeeellz no. 

Anyway, with the help of ol' J. Hetfield, the Tucson Homeskillet gives the Reuben chips a hearty:

Third on the list was this business:

Now, I can dig on the notion of just straight truffles, but the addition of fries kinda threw me for a curve. Well, now that I think about it, I suppose the flavor of "truffle" on a potato chip is close enough to fries so... Wait, now I'm confused. Why not just call it truffle? But didn't I already ask that just a second ago? Am I saying this out loud? Jeeze. This has gone nowhere fast.

And what makes this "west coast"? Is this some kind of gang thing or is this chip supposed to induce images of beachfront frolic while afterwards your stuck on the I-10 for an hour when your exit is right there! It's right there! I can see it! Is that it? 

Don't know.

These chips were thicker and had the "wavy" thing going on, meaning they were, well...wavy. Anyway, I popped one in my mouth and crunched down. Immediately I was subjected to a distinct dirt flavor. Not like earthy and "truffle-y" sort of essence, but straight up dirt. Like I had dropped this chip in some soil, sort of brushed it off and then ate it. Right after the dirt came the fries. Sure, I was eating a fried potato product already so the idea of fries might almost come from just the suggestion that it might have fry extract but....no. I got fry flavor full frontal. It was traumatic. First dirt, then fry. Those wily alchemical sorcerers locked in their sick laboratory have somehow created a mess of dried mud followed by America's favorite side dish gone snack chip. At this point, I was sort of getting over it all and I wasn't a big fan of this combo of flavors. 

Because of the dirt notes and soggy fry twinge, uncle James is giving the Truffle Fries chips a shrugging:

And, finally, the last in line was this shuttering number:

(Note: I just noticed I have quoted RJ Dio twice in this piece but am using James Hatfield as my rating avatar. Hmm. It's late and these chemicals are staring to get to me...)

Okay. Gyro huh? So who is this James Wagner that suggested a meat slabbed Mediterranean sandwich for a grand idea of a potato chip? Maybe he is one of the federated necromancers chained to a stove and lab table lined with bubbling beakers who create such malformed snack intentions, high on PCP and watching endless loops of Teletubbies reruns. 

Perhaps. Because after the first bite of this one all I could taste was sour meat. It was pretty gross. Then, just like the first three, there was a subtle second flavor. This one wasn't as bad as fetid spit beef because it had hints of dill and cucumber; a twisted take on tzatziki of sorts. By this stage my mouth was contorting from the artificial roller coaster ride of  flavor devilry and the gyro taste just made me grouchy. Just to be sure, I took a second chip to keep fact that the suckage on this particular idea was clear and present. 

Yup. Balls. It tasted like noxious dead caveman balls. 

So, to salute the craptastic aura of repulsive gyro potato chips, my man James only has this to say:

Are we done here? Are we done with the potato chip taste off? Okay...good.

Wavy does not always equal "good"...

Here's the rub though. Yeah we were done with the four horsemen (Okay...I got a Metallica quote in here, now it sort of makes sense with Hetfield right? Yeah...didn't think so) of the potato chip apocalypse but we still had one more disastrous "food" idea to deal with. 

This time it didn't come in chip form, this one was served between bread and came courtesy of Eegees. 

We here in the 520 know all about Eegees. Its a local chain famous for their delicious icy treats that are a welcome breeze when it gets well into the 100s here. They also serve sandwiches, hot dogs, pretzels and, my personal favorite, loaded crinkle fries. Believe me, much much better than the truffle fries variety noted above. The loaded fries are greasy, drippy, stupid, bad for you but so so good late at night after a bender of 40 oz liquor swiggin' to fuel you up for further punishment and hopefully a nap. 

Not only does Eegees offer up a monthly flavor for their shaved ice refreshments but also a "limited time only" for some of their food items. This time around, they concocted something so ridiculous sounding that the Homeskillet taste testers just had to get a hold of it and see what all the commotion was about.

We give you...the flamin' hot Cheetos chicken sandwich:

Yup. You can just see the middle finger in that sub roll...

Umm...yeah. Why not? A chicken sandwich topped with flamin' hot Cheetos. There has to be something to this right? There has to be an angle. You can't just fill a sandwich full of spicy cheese droppings and call it a "special"? Can you?

What Eegees promises with their "Flamin' Hot Chicken Sub" is this: Chicken breast served between a sub roll, paired with bacon, jalapeno cream cheese, buffalo ranch, your choice of cheese and stuffed with the flamin' hot variety of Cheetos. It sounded so nauseating that we just had to do it. 

Here is what we got:

Note: actual size of terror

Eegees delivered on their promise of chicken, tangy ranch, jalapeno cream cheese, (we picked) provolone and the Cheetos but...the question is why? WHY are flamin' hot Cheetos on this sandwich? The spicy ranch and peppery cream cheese alone was fine, I guess, but to add red hot Cheetos as well? I didn't get it. 

The first bite was like all of the others that followed: it was a chicken sandwich topped with flamin' hot Cheetos. They added nothing, nothing!, to the sandwich other than the fact that the poor thing was rammed tight with frikkin' spicy Cheetos. What, did the Eegees CEO (probably one of those culinary drug slob prestidigitarians I keep mentioning) just approach Jeff, a stoned and zitty cashier, one day and go "Hey man, we need a new idea for a sandwich. Any ideas?" 

At this point, Jeff, who was daydreaming about being the third member of the Insane Clown Posse, just started word vomiting some of his favorite things to "cold munch on" when he is higher than Jesus on planet Helium.

"Uh. Um," he probably drooled. "Chicken. Ranch. Cheese. And, uh...those flamin' hot Cheetos. Yeah. Can I take my break now?"

This sandwich made no sense because it made perfect sense. Not too sure what we were expecting, but when Chester Cheetah takes a big dump on a chicken sandwich after a night of consuming habanero poppers stuffed with demon squirt this is exactly what it tastes like. Mournful, salty, strangely addictive and downright spite loaded, the flamin' hot Cheetos chicken sandwich is lucky to be just a limited time offer. Because if this thing were to be a permanent menu item, Tucson would suddenly explode into a grizzly sea of hate mongering sandwich zombies and begin to shove hot coals up our rectums just so we could "feel something" due to the emotional soul suck that this death hoagie bestowed upon the masses. Just say no here kids!

Thank you Eegees. I'll send you the bill for our therapy and bathroom tissue stock pile that we're gonna need after eating that glob tube of harassment. 

You're welcome.

Like gazing into the depths of Hades if it were sponsored by Frito-Lay...

And so, on that note, which ended on a rather bad one, all we at the Tucson Homeskillet, along with grandpappy Jimmy here, have to say about the Flamin' Hot Chicken sandwich is a simple and expected old school salute:

Cheers!


Camera and Typing
"Metal" Mark Whittaker
Mid August, 2015


Metal Influence
Metallica, "Jump In The Fire"

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_Ll1-yV8YSw