Posted tagged ‘Bars’

Even Australian Guys in Germany Hate New Jersey

October 26, 2009

A few months ago, I traveled across the Atlantic to Germany for one sole purpose: to find out what Europeans think about New Jersey.

Okay, maybe that wasn’t the only reason, but it was reason enough.

Anyway, upon arriving in Munich, we signed up for a beer and food tour of the city. We then met Luke, our thankfully English-speaking tour guide. Luke is an Australian transplant with the envious job of meeting people from all over the world and drinking German beer with them.

Once the tour group was assembled, Luke asked everyone where they were from. After the woman and I said we were from New Jersey, Luke immediately scoffed, as if New Jersey is an Australian curse or something. What’s funny, though, is that this was the only place that he had a reaction to. Yes, only New Jersey got Luke’s disapproval. Meanwhile, this koala-humping punk had no problems with Ohio (just like New Jersey, only more boring), Los Angeles (has anything good ever come from LA?), New Zealand (famous only for being Middle Earth’s stunt double), and Canada (it thinks it’s a real country…how cute!).

beers

The wombat-wanker's lucky I didn't throw this beer in his face.

At some point during the evening, Luke asked what I do. I told him I was unemployed at the moment, but I just started a blog about New Jersey. He again scoffed, as only those Australians can scoff, and said he hates New Jersey. I asked why, and he told me that he only hears bad things about it. He also added that he was actually in New Jersey once, driving from New York to Philadelphia. After remarking on how dreadful the Turnpike is, which I certainly agreed with, he said how he made sure the doors were locked in case the mafia tried to break in.

I then told him that I had yet to encounter any mobsters in New Jersey. I also explained how the point of my blog is to paint a better picture of the state and disprove some of the negative stereotypes. Luke seemed genuinely interested and convinced that there was more to the Armpit of America than the Turnpike and mobsters.

Later on, at the Hofbrauhaus, our group was discussing public urination for some odd reason. But after drinking a few liters, could you blame us? Some of the guys in the group were saying how they’ve peed in alley ways and such. I also admitted to having peed where I shouldn’t have and told everyone how I have a friend who was fined a lot of money for public urination. To which Luke so wittily replied, “And you’re trying to convince people that New Jersey isn’t that bad?”

Touche, kangaroo-fucker. Touche.

So what I learned on my trip to Europe is that even Australian guys in Germany hate New Jersey. Someone who has lived on two different continents, neither of which is North America, still knew about all the stereotypes and bad impressions that everyone seems to have about the state.

I also learned that I don’t like girls from Ohio, especially those who complain about having to drink beer on a beer tour. And that Canadians are goofy. Totally adorable, but goofy.

The Grease Trucks

October 11, 2009

We all do stupid things in college. Whether drinking yourself to oblivion, experimenting with new drugs, getting pregnant, or getting someone else pregnant, college is a time to expand your horizons and endanger your health. Rutgers University, my alma mater, provides its students with a unique impetus for self destruction – the Grease Trucks.

The menu of a Grease Truck.  Note the absense of little red hearts indicating the health-friendly items.

The menu of a Grease Truck. Note the absense of little red hearts indicating the health-friendly items.

While they may not be as dangerous or life altering as some of the other things you can do in college, buying low-quality fried foods made in the back of a truck by creepy Middle-Eastern men isn’t the most sensible option either. Still, this hasn’t stopped the infinite number of Rutgers students, alumni, and New Brunswick locals who can’t quit the habit.

The Grease Trucks serve a wide selection of foods, including such Middle Eastern standards as falafel, hummus, grape leaves, and spinach pie. However, these healthier options take a back seat to the trucks’ main draw – the “fat sandwiches.” The trucks have a variety of fat sandwiches, consisting of some type of meat, cheese, sauce, and fries, all served on a giant roll.

The five trucks, though each owned and operated independently, have pretty much the same sandwiches on each of their menus. Some of the standards include:

  • Fat Cat – The first fat sandwich invented, and the first one I ever ate, consists of two hamburger patties, cheese, fries, ketchup, mayo, lettuce, tomato, and onion.
  • Fat Bitch – No, this one doesn’t include Rosie O’Donnell meat. Instead, it is made of cheesesteak, chicken fingers, mozzarella sticks, and fries. This is one of the most popular sandwiches, if for no other reason than the name.
  • Fat Moon – The Fat Moon contains eggs, bacon, cheese, and fries. Though this one was my favorite for a while, I ditched it once I realized that the “chefs” leave their eggs sitting out all day.
  • Fat Darrel – This sandwich is made up of chicken fingers, mozzarella sticks, fries, and marinara sauce. Though I don’t see what the big deal about this one is, it was declared the best sandwich in America by Maxim Magazine for reasons still unclear.
  • Fat Filipino – The Fat Filipino, along with the Fat Bitch, was at the center of an ethical dispute several years ago. I’m not even sure if they still make it these days. However, it is worth including on this list for being the fattest of the fat sandwiches. It was made of cheesesteak AND gyro meat, accompanied by fries and covered in yogurt sauce.

The inside of a Fat Bitch.  Incidentally, fries, mozzarella sticks, and cheesesteaks can be found inside of most fat bitches.

The inside of a Fat Bitch. Of course, fries, mozzarella sticks, and cheesesteaks can be found inside many fat bitches.

To be honest, the fat sandwiches aren’t even that good. While they are certainly delicious at 2:00 am after a night of drinking, any other time of day they are just alright. When you take a bunch of greasy foods and shove them into a giant roll, each item tends to take on the flavors of everything surrounding it.

Fries, which are usually the best part of any meal, just make things worse. The fries at the Grease Trucks are, appropriately enough, really greasy, and they don’t have any salt. If they were crispy, they would at least give the sandwiches some much needed texture. Instead, they just blend in with everything else.

Despite my culinary critiques, the Grease Trucks provide for a fun, filling, and cheap meal. They are also a cornerstone of Rutgers and New Brunswick culture. Four years after graduating, my friends and I still frequent the Grease Trucks after a night of New Brunswick barhopping. The Grease Trucks are definitely an interesting place. I guarantee there isn’t any other location on Earth where you could clog your arteries, pick up drunk college chicks, and see scenes like this:

My fellow Jews dancing around with a Torah at the Grease Trucks.  Something isn't quote kosher about this.

My fellow Jews dancing around with a Torah at the Grease Trucks. Something isn't quote kosher about this scene.

Memorial Day Weekend in Sea Isle City

May 27, 2009

This past weekend, some friends and I rented a house in Sea Isle City. For those who have never heard of Sea Isle City, it is kind of like the equivalent of Belmar to those of us north of Ocean County. I sure never heard of it until I started dating a girl from the South (south Jersey that is). Anyway, as the name implies, Sea Isle City is a little city on an island by the sea. While there are probably a bunch of better names, no one can accuse the town of false advertising. Anyway, it is a really nice place, made even nicer by the fact that I didn’t see any guidos.

Since, as everyone should be aware of by now, I was at the Bruce show Saturday night, I couldn’t make it to the house until Sunday. Despite the late arrival, I still had an incredible 48 hours in Sea Isle City. While the rest of the group were up in Ocean City when we got there, we explored our new home for the next couple days. The house was huge and could easily sleep about 15 people, not counting floor space. It also had a lot of nice bowls, plates, glasses, and other stuff that could be easily broken by a bunch of drunk twenty-somethings. As far as I know, nothing got broken, but there were some close calls.

After exploring the house, we walked onto the beach. It was incredibly windy, the sky was dark, and the water was freezing. Despite these conditions, there were actually a few people swimming. Most notable was a rather large girl with a boogey board who kept bending over and sticking her ass out for some reason. What made this scene even more hilarious was that she was wearing shorts that matched her skin color perfectly, making it seem as though she was naked from the waist down.

We then went back to the house as everyone else was coming back from Ocean City. As we all greeted each other and were introduced to unfamiliar people, the drinks started pouring. And, after we all got a little buzzed, we decided to make dinner – hot dogs and hamburgers. After about half an hour, the designated grill master came inside and announced that the grill was out of gas. This meal was becoming a real propane in the ass! (Sorry, I couldn’t resist the pun.) I suggested putting everything in the oven. After another 15 minutes, someone realized that I never turned the oven on. Oops. While this was going on, the people making pasta salad were having their own ordeal. Apparently, no one could find a colander. In order to cool the pasta down, someone had the drunken idea of putting the pasta in a bowl of ice. After being advised to just pour cold water in the bowl and strain it, someone dumped half the pasta in the sink. Surprisingly, the pasta salad was delicious.

After “dinner,” we had dessert, which was just more alcohol and a delicious strawberry thing. Before leaving for the bar, we drank some more and played around with a midget blowup doll. Someone decided to put hot dogs in her orifices. We then walked to a bar called Ocean Drive. I don’t remember much of what happened, but, if the pictures are any proof, I think I had a good time. After somehow finding our way back to the house, we had even more drunken fun. Again, I don’t remember much, but it involved me leg wrestling with another guy. Also, someone stabbed the blowup doll. 😦

The next day, Memorial Day, was a lot quieter. We all went to the beach in the morning. Everyone got up to go for a walk by the water, while I stayed behind reading a book. When they came back to our spot in the sand, they said there was a guy fishing and he caught a shark! Unfortunately, I missed this, but that’s what I get for reading like a nerd. We only stayed on the beach for a couple hours. Storm clouds rolled in with their thunder and rain, so we had to go back to the house.

That night, we went down to Wildwood to hang out on the boardwalk – my first time being at Wildwood in 12 years. Although it was pretty empty, all the stalls and shops were still open. We went to the candy store, where we bought fudge and candy cigarettes. Just as I was feeling really old and well past the age of buying candy, a boy in his early teens came up to our group to ask if any of us were eighteen and could buy him cigarettes. I took this as a compliment and rewarded him by buying him the goods. Kidding. We then spent a couple hours at an arcade. When we left, the boardwalk was completely empty, and mostly everything was closed. It definitely had a different appearance than a couple hours earlier. Everything looked so rundown and trashy. In other words, it was pure Armpit of America-ness.

The next day was really cold and rainy, really shitty weather for late May. We then packed up and left.

Although the weather wasn’t that great, it was still an incredibly fun time. There really is nothing like spending time in a beach house with your friends. Also, we got to experience the best of the Jersey Shore – the beach, the boardwalk, crappy cover bands, barbecuing (or at least attempting it), and all around drunkeness.