Monday, June 18, 2012

Eating Out Reuben's Ribs

God bless a liar.  I suppose someone who thinks themselves a comedian rather than a reporter is ultimately pointing out that he's a horrible liar and so I shouldn't blame myself for being a total lazy ass hopless liar sonofabitch.  But I am and I do.  But apologizing blindly to the internet is stupid and all of my excuses have been expeneded.  I'm a bad blogger.  Eat my ass, or better yet, eat Reuben's new owner's ribs and Ghost Chili hot sauce!

So just to gloss over the lost months, we were out getting our blood taken to check out how much damage our fat-centric diet has been doing to our delicate booze filtering liver and having to not eat for 12 hours required a big ass ole reward for our lack of self destructive indulgence!  Bar-be-motherucking-Q time!

Now we've all heard of the spot over by the VA hospital quite a bloody bit over the past 2 to 3.  And I'm glad as hell that I was a horrible lazy ass and took so long to review it to now.  Why, you may ask?  Because it's acutally fucking bomb diddly in my guts good now! 

Now I know what you're thinking, but I had to fast before the blood tests, meaning that this is probably my one and only most soberest review ever.  And don't take it as a bad thing.  Beyond the ribs being falling-apart-tender and the chicken still being juicy and yet smokey and delicious and despite their hot links being bomb diggity hot linguica.  Their damn Bhut Jalokia sauce is 8 shades of tasty and not, I repeat NOT too hot for normal humans.

Don't get me wrong, the heat on that molasses sweet dark brown treat will grow on ya like a warm pond fungus.  But it ain't too scary for the non-hardcore to have a bite or two of.  Though credit where she's due, by the 4th dip even I was reconsidering my bragging about "I GROW THESE DANG PEPPERS Y'ALL!"  Yeah...and they still make me sweat so hard I gotta throw away that pair of underwear.

But above and beyond the meat rocking my socks, it was the personal touch of the entire staff.  The kids behind the counter wanted to make sure I had everything I could possibly want.  And in the course of the eating, not only was the owner sweet enough to ask if my skinny ass was a veteran (because I had blood taken and had a bandage, so presumably came from the VA hospital) but was also kind enough not to pick on me for being a dickhead citizen just having his cholesterol checked.

And fun enough as our conversation expanded, so did our meeting of the family.  First daughters came out of the kitchen and were introduced, then sons and close friends of the family and finally Mrs. (Totally not) Reuben as we talked smoke, peppers, news and food.  And finally I got to hit what has kept me from writing these many months.

There is another near and dear food establishment I've been harboring these thoughts about, but I finally got to talk to a restaurant owner before it was too late.  And that oddball in-my-head tie up is: Don't Fucking Expand!  Yes, I know you've made some money and Fresno is beating a path to your door this month but...DON'T EXPAND!  Yes, you took out a big ass fucking loan to get off the ground and you're pulling in enough cash in the first 6 months to qualify for another loan but...DON'T FUCKING EXPAND!

Why you say?  Everybody I pay to give me advice and the evil fat fuckers who underwrite my loans tell me that this is the best time in my business to do just that!  And all of my fans love me so much that I'm sure my poop muffins taste just like blueberry tarts and they tell me so every day!  My Mom told me that I'll be President and my insurance guy swears he'll eat there 3 times a week!

And you know what?  Nobody is going to tell you that Fresno loves to jab it's culinary interest into a new face.  Loves to throw money at it's tawdry newness and tell it that it's special, it's the #1 in their world, it's gonna bring ALL of it's friends to rub their wannabe, faux rich, no class, North Fresno face in it's big ole food titties and smear the owner with dirty food stripper dollars.

And then that poor fool opens up a bigger dining room with those dirty dollars.  And still then...crickets...  Where went the crowds?  Why when that cramped room, full of personality, still stands empty alongside that afterthought emotionless space that we added on to, what was already working?  Is it the new room, is it the expanded menu, is it the new servers..........is it....me?

Nope!  Dumbass!  Fresno was sick of you and getting ready to ignore you in the first place!  But your dumb ass decided to sink 50 to 100 grand of investor money in something we were sick of by the time you knocked on their door!  If you were smart, you'd have been busy refining your business model and adding burgers to your menu to cement your place in the Fresno Food-Brain.  But no, more art, 5 more tables and the inability for your kitchen or staff to keep up with the same flow of business you had before the expansion kills you every fucking time.

Ok, I don't think I was that expansive, but really thats how it goes down.  And my angst is rooted in another Fresno food institution making an even bigger classic Fresmistake,  I hope this confession will give me the courage to write what I really feel (I know right?  It gets worse that this??)  But for any hopeful Fresranteur, please heed these words and find the way to prove me wrong.

Pook

2 comments:

  1. see and this is why I read you.... because you put things in a way no one else around here does....and very well... thanks for the review, I had Reuben's when it wasn't great and was wondering what all the hoopla was about.... and no I still haven't figured out who you're talking about because I'm a little slow and it could apply to a few places...

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  2. There are a few places where I'm seeing the expansion drag down their quality of service. But the main example I can use without picking on anybody would be Tower Dogs. They were doing brisk business as a hot dog counter with a couple tables, but once they expanded into having a dining room the feel of the place changed. A hot dog isn't a sit down sort of meal, it's a hangover preventative measure that you wolf down before or after the bar crawl. Tables and chair make you expect service, which teenagers are genetically incapable of providing. But it seems to work out differently for each Fresno eatery that suffers death via expansion.

    And thanks for the compliment! :D

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