Anger Burger

When the weather gets cold the kids get all depressed and weird, and by “the kids” I mean Mike the Viking and The Thing That Lurks.

Despite having pointedly ignored the Grilled Cheese Truck for well over a year now, I decided that a field trip lunch was in order and wrangled everyone involved into outside pants.

I assure you that all of Los Angeles has already been to the GCT, and in fact the two men behind me were trying to count exactly how many times they’d been¹.  I’ve read maybe a dozen blog reviews, seen it on a TV show and heard about it from friends.  I’ve even walked by it at least three times while on my way to a different food truck.  But to actually pay for a grilled cheese sandwich, there must be one more element: boredom.  And today was that boring day.

Which I pretty much immediately regretted.  I got into line about 15 minutes after the truck setting up and I thought, great!  They’ll power through these fools in no time.  And I was right!  And also “no time” translates to AN HOUR AND A HALF.  And that’s even with several people nearby me in line leaving to go in search of food they could actually procure and eat during their lunch hour.  An hour!  And a half!  Already these poor sandwiches are doomed, because nothing is worth waiting that long for and then paying money for.  Except maybe the Vicodin truck.  Which I think we already established would do AMAZING BUSINESS and should be parked in the Valley at all times.

So anyway, an hour and a half and $17 later, we were the proud owners of lunch.  We got the GCT signature sandwich, the macaroni and cheese with pulled pork ribs and caramelized onions:

There’s no arguing that this is a magical sandwich.  The proportions are all perfect, and what I was certain was going to be an unpleasant amount of carbs (I mean, I love carbs, but I don’t want a pasta sandwich) (except, it turns out I do) was instead a hot, creamy, sharp, meaty, sweet and salty delight.  It was a nice surprise to find that the hype was justified.  Or sort of – if I’d been one of the office workers in line waiting for a “quick” lunch, I’d be a lot bitchier right now.  In fact the gentleman in line in front of me even ordered a sandwich and then could only wait 10 more minutes for his food before he had to leave without his lunch.  He was very calm about it, calmer than I am about my shower water taking longer than two minutes to warm up.

Anyway,  just for a control, we ordered a plain American cheese sandwich, which I thought was a fair deal at $3.

It was what you’d expect.  I overheard someone in line advise against the tomato soup, describing it as “basically marinara sauce”.  To which I was all, well, okay?  Wait, is that bad?

No!  It is not bad.  It was indeed a very thick soup, but since it was undoubtedly designed for dipping your sandwich in, it was perfect.  I’ll be an asshole just for kicks here and say that the dried herbs tasted like dried herbs, but mostly I’m saying that because THEY COULD HAVE GROWN FRESH ONES IN THE TIME IT TOOK ME TO GET MY FOOD.

Perhaps we shouldn’t have brought the dog along, I thought her head was going to explode with the effort of being a good girl while we ate.

Don’t look at me like that, she got plenty of macaroni and cheese and pork.  Or maybe that is why you’re looking at me.  Either way, stop it.

¹ This is a total tangent, but I kind of hate the social culture of food truck lines. People talk in a very stilted way, aware that they are overheard by everyone around them, and punctuate their wan conversations with long, drawn-out pauses. It’s basically like being surrounded by dozens of blind dates.  Inevitably the conversation ALWAYS turns to the length of the line, how long we are waiting and how the truck proprietors are doing it wrong.  Like when I was at the post office a few days ago and the woman behind me in line kept asking me in a loud, exasperated voice “CAN YOU BELIEVE THIS?!” and I finally said “Yes!  I can believe it!”