Out And Back: Chido Burrito

We all mature in different ways, at different speeds and at different times. Our tastes change, evolve, become more grown-up. We stop liking things we used to, start liking things we didn't, and want better versions of the things we already like.

Basically what I'm saying here is that there comes a time when you want - nay, need - more from a taco than Taco Bell's ever going to give you.

That's the impulse that sent me to Chido Burrito last week.

807 Tilton Road, Northfield, N.J.

Chido Burrito considers itself a brother to the American-Mexican division of the "fast casual" movement - your Chipotles, your Moe's, your Qdobas, for those needing context. This is evident when you walk in and are confronted with a massive menu board and a floor-to-ceiling-length imitation straw umbrella right in the middle of the seating area. In fact, it's probably made out of wood. See the surfboards in the parking lot up there? That's their thing - surf themes are all over the music and TV screens.

After being greeted by a younger, taller Topanga look-alike, the second thing I noticed was the meat and chicken being cooked on the grill in the background. Actually see the food being cooked has always been oddly reassuring to me, and I've never understood why. It doesn't mean anything. I mean, do we know what kind of meat that is? I kid, or course. I think.

So I got the three beef tacos. They don't have pico de gallo in the strictest sense so I settled for a tiny bit of diced tomatoes. (Despite being practically a New Jersey native, I've never been a whole tomato guy. Shrug.) Add lettuce and cheese, throw some chips on the side and we're ready to pay, get sauces and eat.

The first bite? Good. The hard shell was crunchy but not brittle, so there's not much danger of half the filling ending up on the plate or in far less appetizing places. The beef, pulled and shredded, was juicy and not chewy at - wait, what? The beef is juicy?

This completely threw me off, though I had to not show it because the place had filled up behind me by the time I sat down. But in all seriousness, I had never eaten a taco - not even the ones I make for myself - with meat in it that actually dripped juices. Especially beef - it's always either a little overcooked or so dry and unsubstantial that you've gotta load stuff on it just to feel like you're eating something. I'm not exaggerating when I tell you that this was a minor revelation. It'll also put any concerns you may have about the authenticity of the meat to rest.

A couple bites later, though, I discovered a serious problem. The sauces that they put out had no flavor whatsoever. No heat, no spice, no kick of any kind, nothing. I had three different ones (different colors, even!) and they could have all been the same or not been there at all for what they added to the meal. That'll be hard to get past.

A few other things:

• They sell churros (Seriously! Where else outside an amusement park are you getting churros?)
• The fries come coated with what I imagine is their house spice blend that was too strong for a couple of kids in the place
• It is fortunate that they don't cling to the idea of "authentic Mexican" because the presence of fries, along with hot wings, on the menu would call that into serious question

I feel like there's potential here. That sauce thing has got to be fixed, and maybe the tacos aren't actually the best thing on the menu, but it wasn't bad overall.

Out and Back: Five Guys

The thing about the Internet is this: Word travels fast. Information and ideas fly around the world instantaneously. You can ask anybody anywhere about anything and somebody will be able to give you an answer or an opinion or whatever it is you're after. So that's how I first heard good things about Washington D.C.-based Five Guys Burgers and Fries.

But with all the speed of information comes a lot of hype. And hype gets especially magnified on the Internet, because everybody has an opinion about everything on and off the Internet. And you find yourself asking: Can it really be that good? Or that bad?

Enough of my babbling. Let's go eat!

If you can't go to the source, at least know where the source is.

There are bags of potatoes stacked on pallets when you walk in. I feel like it's a statement of some kind.

Time for my poison. Bacon cheeseburger with pickles, onions (diced, not grilled) and A-1. Now here's an important point: At Five Guys, every burger is automatically a double, with two patties instead of one, so you need to be prepared for that. The menu's very simple: burgers, hot dogs and fries. That's it. Five Guys can't be bothered with gimmicks.

Just like anywhere else, you place your order, then get your drinks, condiments, whatever. Then you can hang back and snack on some of these while you wait:



They used to put these on the tables in metal vessels, but now, at least at the one I go to, they stack boxes of peanuts on top of the trash cans with the paper trays and scoops.

Everything's open behind the counter so you can watch them work on the food. Sort of. The view isn't actually that great but you can hear and smell everything. When the burger's done, they wrap in it foil, dump the fries into a styrofoam cup (and toss some more in for good measure) and throw the whole thing into a brown paper bag. No frills, no fuss. OLD SCHOOL.

No, really. I don't love you just because of your looks.

Invariably, half of the fries - and that's no exaggeration - will fall out of the cup and end up at the bottom of the bag. They're cut from real potatoes, but they're not always crispy, though they're always tender on the inside.

"Look at it. LOOK AT MY BURGER!"

If only they used sliced onions instead of diced. Other than that, I haven't had a better burger that I didn't make myself and I'm not convinced I've made a better burger by myself. Just the right amount of juiciness, with a slight bit of char. Even with two patties, it's not hard to eat at all. I should point out that it's a bit pricey, but I'll pay it every time.

Out and Back: Sonic

I freely admit that sometimes I get bugged by things that, frankly, I know shouldn't bug me.

For years the Sonic drive-thru chain would buy national ad spots during games or shows I watch a lot, and it always bothered me a little bit because a) I'd never heard of Sonic; and b) once I discovered what Sonic was, I also discovered that there weren't any within about 300 miles of me.

Well, not long ago, that changed, and New Jersey got a Sonic. And by "a Sonic", I mean "exactly one Sonic."

(Route 9 North, Waretown, N.J.)

In retrospect, I don't know how I almost drove past the place. Possibly mental fatigue from thinking "Where the hell IS IT?" for the last five miles of the drive. Seriously, no building has ever looked more out of place for where it is than this one. You can't really tell from that shot.

I'm not entirely sure, but I think those drive-up stations in the background are for paying with credit or debit cards. I didn't give that a spin because if you're so paranoid about carrying cash that you don't have enough on you for drive-thru fast food, you've got problems I'm not qualified to solve. There is no interior seating that I could see, by the way - they have a patio outside where I actually saw someone get food brought out to his table, but I don't think you're getting inside the building unless you're wearing the uniform.

I wasn't tremendously hungry at this point, so I just got a Coney (what they call a hot dog) with chili and cheese, fries and one of their Famous orange slushes. I capitalize "Famous" because they do it and, as the first-timer, I feel I have to take their word for it.



While I railed on the use of foil paper at Roy Rogers, this probably is the best way to store a drive-thru hot dog.


Plating is not my strong suit. It certainly isn't theirs.

The food was about as nondescript as it gets, which may actually be a good thing. The chili cheese dog tasted like, well, a hot dog with chili and cheese on it. The fries were salted almost perfectly. (This reminds me that my ketchup consumption has plummeted as I've gotten older.)

Sonic makes a big deal about drinks. It's their hook, like how McDonald's puts "Mc-" in front of everything. Sonic's thing is they have a menu of flavors you can add to any drink if you want, so if you want a cherry-flavored Diet Coke, you can get a Diet Coke and ask them to add cherry flavoring to it. Or a Sprite with vanilla (ew). Or even root beer and Powerade, which seems like something you'd drink before going on a mass crime spree.

This was the star of the day:


That's a quality frozen beverage. It may not look like it (blame the photographer), but it is. You'll just have to trust me. Good flavor, structurally sound, not watery, and it holds up - an hour later it was about the same consistency on top and hadn't turned into a melted, syrupy mess.

The topper was unexpected, and, I believe, a fast-food first:


Yep. That's a Sonic after-meal mint. I didn't believe it, either.

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Now playing: Wu Tang Clan - Protect Ya Neck (The Jump Off)
via FoxyTunes

Out and Back: Roy Rogers

Yes, really.

Surely you thought this once-sprawling franchise had been eradicated except for a few random outposts in rest stops on toll roads. That is, if you've thought about it at all. (I'm willing to accept the fact that you likely haven't.) And for a long time that was true - when Marriott sold the chain to Hardee's parent company, many Roy Rogers were converted to Hardee's, which basically meant reducing chicken to jobber status. But it turns out that the restaurant is making something of a comeback.

(Route 9 North, Pine Beach, N.J.)

This particular location was one of the survivors from the 1990 sell-off, though there's a decent chance the building's been renovated. I first stumbled upon it nine years ago when I was still working in Trenton, covering a Little League softball team in the state championship in nearby Beachwood. I happened to be back up in the area again recently and saw that it was still there, prompting today's trip.

It's been exactly that long since I've even eaten at a Roy Rogers. They still have the Fixin's Bar, where you can roll over with your burger and make it look presentable with lettuce, onions, tomatoes and pickles. I topped my bland-looking bacon cheeseburger with lettuce, onions, pickles and ketchup. The white onions threw me, as I've become accustomed to using red onions when I make burgers at home.

But let's be honest: Nobody ever went to Roy Rogers for the burgers. This is why you went:


Original Roast Beef, yo. Note the foil wrapping straight out of the environmentally-unfriendly 80's. At least they're not still using styrofoam. Mine got injured during packing (I still don't quite understand why they put it underneath the chicken box):


That's what it really looks like. Well, except for the blur. I am glad to note that it retained some juiciness even after a 45-minute drive.

Now, the appeal of Roy's for me as a kid was always that you could get burgers and fried chicken at the same place:


Dark meat is the default for the two-piece combo; white meat costs a little extra. Drumstick on the left, thigh up top. I don't remember the biscuits being about the same shape as foccacia bread, though. Must be a recent development.

Tasting the chicken reminded me that Roy's has always had a different "bite" to it for me than KFC's has. I can't quite explain what it is, though. It's not a spice thing, it's not really noticeably crispier than KFC's Extra Crispy (in fact, it's maybe a little less so). If you were to ask me which is better, I'd say it depended on my mood at the time. I do think it's somewhat ironic that from my hazy childhood fast food memories, Roy's was more likely to have chicken ready when you walked in than the chicken-only KFC, which can be a crapshoot depending on location whether you'll be waiting in there for three minutes or 15.

FYI, there are no Hardee's located in New Jersey. I think we know who won that battle.