Ant 95

Oh Kati Roll – Oh Kati Roll . . .

What in the world is a “Kati Roll” – and why should you be ambling over to get one? Well – pals-of-mine . . . let me first let you know that Kati Roll Company used to live on 46th street – right close to a tasty Cuban spot by the name of Margon . . . and oh the decisions that I would have to make – this or that – that or this . . . but they have recently decided to pull up the stakes of their merry food tent – and move to the strange confines of 39th street (between 5/6) – and the decision has been made simple. Do I go on that block only for the purpose of swinging by ye olde Kati Roll Company – or do I avoid the otherwise bland block altogether . . . Well – I went down the block – and so now – we are all caught up.

Ooh – except – we aren’t really caught up – because I forgot to tell you what a Kati Roll even is . . . ready? It is Indian food wrapped up in a piece of paratha bread (which is a flat bread that is pan fried to crispy goodness) . . . yeah – it is basically like a burrito stuffed with Indian food . . . I always get the chicken tikka masala and the – the – the – oh shoot – I forget it’s proper name – so we’ll just call it the one with the potato stuff . . . and they are usually so so so good.

Alright – one of the main complaints that I have always heard about the Kati Roll Company – and which I agree with 100 times – is that it takes forever to get your food. For something that seems to be so quick and easy . . . it is shockingly slow. Well at this new location – they had things pretty streamlined – and I got out in about 10 minutes – which – compared to how it used to be was a definite improvement. The only problem – that I found – when I opened the little bag that they come in – which is strangely marked as “BARBEQUE” – was that they weren’t as delectable delight-ish as they had been before . . . and I am looking at you chicken tikka masala – potato stuff was just fine.

They are greasy – they tend to be both ooey and gooey – and for the most part – they are really good bad for you fast Indian food – where two make plenty of a meal – and I will positively go back and give them another shot – maybe they were just jittery in their new confines – or something . . . Just make sure to use some napkins and wash your hands before touching your keyboard – because – the grease – oh – the grease will get you . . .

I babble – from cold medicine – the medicine makes me babble . . . but Kati Rolls make me happy – so there is that . . .

Friday Photo [#32] – A Little Toothy . . .

Ant 94

Oreo (Pizza) Pie – you are just too much.

So there was a big hoe-down at the office the other day and Wilerkerson was swell enough to pull me out of the potato pit to let me slap some fancy fixens’ on the table for all to enjoy.

For the record – a potato pit is a big hole full of potatoes that I am dropped into every day with only a cheese sandwich and a peeler. My day is done when all of the potatoes are peeled and all of the peelings are disposed of properly . . . and when I can convince someone to drop the rope down into the pit – so that I can scurry home to ready myself for the next days haul of potatoes . . .

Anyway – since it was such a spectacular occasion – a pal and I opted to do the only logical thing in the world – and went about to the local (Domino’s) pizzeria to pick up a scrumptious pie. But not just any pie was bought – friends – no – indeed . . . we came back with the tasty cargo of two Oreo pies.

Yes – you read what you just read . . . two pizzas with questionable cardboard bottoms – some sort of marshmallow-type fluff (maybe) – a crushed up Oreo cookie layer that was brimming to the brim and then oodles of drizzles of sweet sweet white goo all over that. They were almost too pretty to eat.

But not pretty enough – the first “pizza” was gobbled up before I could even blink – mostly by the really intrepid – gung-ho people in the office . . . the ones that really grab the slightly frightening “will this hurt me if I eat it” types of people. The reaction that people have to the Oreo pizza seems like it could be a great experiment . . . an interesting social barometer for what exactly the limits that people are willing to go to with their snack time treats. I mean – an Oreo Blizzard (from Dairy Queen) – no problem . . . an Oreo pizza from Domino’s – a whole bunch more questionable – yeah – yeah – a whole bunch . . .

Alright then – back to peeling for me . . . but before I go . . . I have to let you know that I had one piece. It was crunchy – gooey – and had a very slight taste of being burnt to it (like it was in the oven a tiny bit too long). I barely – outside of the visual – got the feeling like I was eating a real Oreo – maybe more of a cousin of an Oreo – or something like that. The real kick in the chin was the swimmy too much sugar from one food item that overtook my brain after finishing my little piece of conundrum – but that was dealt with by confusing my body more – by just going full bore and shoveling even more sugar in as the night progressed . . . sugar of the dog that sweetened me . . .

All in all – I would say that everyone was (more or less) a winner – all the way around – the Oreo pizza – that is . . . ugh.