Thursday, December 22, 2011

December 6th: Pollo Fritto

You might not know what, exactly, a Pollo Fritto might be. If you have taken at least 2 weeks of Spanish in high school, or if you've ever eaten at El Pollo Loco (smokey bean burito and loco salad holla!)  you will know it has something to do with chicken.

If you have ever eaten Fritos you will know it is kinda close to the word "fritto," which also sounds like "fried" in English.

This will all lead you to deduce that it has something to do with fried chicken.

If you are an American, you will be excited. You will be excited because you like fried chicken. It's part of your national heritage.

If you give a mouse a cookie... 


Imagine you are hungry, and you want something tasty. Imagine this bad-a truck of dreams rolls all up on yo' business:

What culinary delights must await you, weary foodies!

Imagine you could put this in your mouth. 

If you are ever in the Bay area, I'm surr-yus. You have got to Pollo Fritto it up.

I got a front row pass to Pollo Fritto this week. I'm totes geekin' out on the company. And for good reason--it is a great idea peopled by some of the most genuine, creative, cool, fun, interesting, kind, thoughtful souls around.

Oh, and BT Dubs, the food is seriously delicious--perfectly crisp fried chicken nestled in the warm hug that is secret bread from the heart of San Fran blanketed by perfectly tangy/spicy slaw.  Not too spicy. Not greasy. Just right.

I have never been fan of cole slaw, so when they mentioned "slaw" as they explained the sandwich to me, I had to keep myself from making the "did you just ask me to eat cockroaches?" face. But this stuff isn't drowning in mayo. Nor does it have wilty carrot bits slithering all up in it. Instead, the vinaigrette dressing adds just the right flavor but none of the gag-factor. All the veggies hit your mouth with a delightful crunch.

What I appreciate about this particular sandwich is, unlike most of my experiences with fast food, I don't feel like I just ate a year's ration of butter when the sammy hits the digestive tract. While fried chicken isn't the best thing you could ever do for yourself, a deliciously filling lunchtime treat that goes down fresh and easy? Yes please.

Gah. My mouth is watering as I type this.

So, Skip and the dudes had been waiting and waiting for the truck to get tricked out so they could finally get their magic food to the hungry people of Menlo Park.

Garrett and I had the privilege of going with they guys to check it out hot off the press.

Driving, driving.  
Yeah, that's Spongebob. 

Ryan and the dawggie. 

Dropping Jon off at the airport. 

What a rockstar. 

Oh you tricky doggy. 

Luh dis. 

GAH <3
Ryan, make me a sandwich. 
(See what I did there? Gender stereotype role-reversal never tasted so good)

You can't see him in there very well, but it's a happy, happy Skip in his chariot. 

The open road. 

Good times, good food, good friends, good sunsets, good This American Life podcast on the radio. 

Lets get slow. Ride into that sunset. Forgive. Love. Eat fried chicken. 

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