Archive for December, 2011

New Belgium Passion Saison

Posted in Spirit Guide with tags , , , , , , , on December 20, 2011 by Colin Walker

Spirit Guide

Let me make something clear. I am a man who can admit when he was wrong. Back in August, I ribbed New Belgium Brewing Company a bit. It wasn’t about the beer, I loved the beer, but I did make some disparaging remarks about their name and their website. These remarks may have been true, but I’d like to go ahead and retract them now anyway.

“But why?” you ask, “Coddy, you’ve always been the lone shining beacon of truth in our otherwise murky world.  When the fog of lies and propaganda gathers, it is only you who pierces that deceptive murk with your everlasting sword of light and purity.”

It is to you I say, “Who the fuck are you, and how did you find this website?”

I’m retracting the statements I made because I have now become convinced that New Belgium Brewing can do no wrong. What I’m saying is, I want to have New Belgium’s babies.

So, now that it’s been established that I’m a mincing twat for New Belgium, let’s get to what I’m reviewing:

Inseminate me, you amber bastard.

It’s the Prickly Passion Saison, and it’s the shit. They took prickly pear and passion fruit and threw that shit on top of a high ABV farmhouse ale. It’s fruity, yeasty, and it will knock you on your ass.

The two fruits combine to form an almost mango character. Which is weird, but not unpleasant, kind of like my uncle Sal.

“Wear the pajamas I like.”

Pair this with a good filet of whatthefuckeveritdoesntmatter and go drink some right now.

Taste: Tart and yeasty. This is only bad when we’re talking about the fairer sex.

Drinkability: Tricky at first, but after the first few sips, it becomes almost addictive.

ABV: 8.5%

Cost: $8/22 oz.

Hangover Rating: Three will crack your skull and eat your brains like a famished gorilla. (gorillas do that.)

Just A Minor Gastric Apocalypse, Your Grace

Posted in Culinary Cataclysm with tags , , , , , , , , , , on December 8, 2011 by Colin Walker

Here were are again, with me a few weeks older and absolutely no wiser. It’s the Culinary Cataclysm, wherein I attempt to raise a host from the base-born commoners of the Value Menus in franchise restaurants and combine them like Voltron to best the chain’s mighty champion.

Why? Because I love you guys. And I fucking hate my toilet.

 Jiggle the handle? Motherfucker, JIGGLE THIS!

So, last time, this went badly. I did a double feature on KFC and Taco Bell, and not only were the results close to inedible, I was in such bad shape afterwards that people from northern Japan were sending care packages to my butthole for two weeks.  I swore I’d take some time before I did the next installment.

But then my fiance’ went out of town. I was driving to pick up my daughter from jazz band when I heard the raspy voice in my left ear.

“Codpiece, it’s time.”

“Oh no.”

“Oh, yes. Time for another article. Time to eat.”

“No, man. Seriously, look, the last time we did this, the city had to destroy the sewer lines for blocks south of my house and a para-military unit had to be deployed to hunt the sentient racoons  that had been birthed from the incident.”

“Codddddpiece. You’re going to do it. You’ve ignored the King thus far, and have offended him. He demands fealty.”

“C’mon, man. I’ve got my daughter with me.”

“Take her with you. Sweets for the sweet.”

“Yeah, okay. Works for me.”

Then I was at Burger King. My daughter ordered the number seven, the chicken fries meal. She’s got my metabolism and weighs like a buck-o-five, so whatever. I scour the Value Menu and wind up ordering  a Double Stacker, a double cheeseburger, and a Spicy Tendercrisp. Total: $4.50 (for my part of the order).  The Whopper is the King’s Grand Champ, but I knew I had that whipped. A Double Whopper with cheese is $4.90 though, so that’s the meaty bastard I put in my crosshairs. We got home, and I got down to business.

 Houses Stark, Tully, and Baratheon, respectively.

The camera on my phone predates the written word. This looked way better in person.

Unwrap the Double Stacker, flip it over, and remove the bottom bun.

“And when the fiery chicken mounts the cheesy cow, an unholy alliance will form.”

Unwrap the Spicy Tendercrisp, remove bottom bun, and place on top of Double Stacker.

The Triple Sesame Sasquatch!

Unwrap double cheeseburger, discard bottom bun, place on top. Unleash the fury of the Northlands.

View from the north tower.

Have daughter place next to her head to provide sense of scale.

Have your daughter take a picture of you holding the monstrosity, while laughing, so you wind up looking like a viking with Parkinson’s. And yes, I always eat shirtless. DON’T JUDGE ME!

But I can judge this sandwich. It was fanfuckintastic. I wouldn’t recommend eating a Spicy Tendercrisp on it’s own, because Burger King’s chicken has the consistency of sawmill waste, but in between the two towers of cheesy burger love it gave just the right amount of zip. The Special Sauce is there near your taste buds, and then there’s the bacon. Bacon is like the mounted cavalry in your sandwich’s war party.

Let’s see how it does against the flagship:

Double Whopper with cheese:

Price: $4.90

Two beef patties

Two slices of cheese






Sesame seed bun

1010 calories

Triple Sesame Sasquatch:

Four beef patties

Four slices of cheese

Spicy Tendercrisp patty






Special Sauce

Three sesame seed buns


1520 calories

Now, some of you are thinking that you can add bacon to the Double Whopper. You can, but it adds eighty-five cents to the price. So, we have an uncontested winner. For Winterfell!