Def’ly not a Brazil day

    The yellow-and-green parrots ain’t seein’ da Cup this year. I was overjoyed. Seriously, best news to start the day since summer began. To celebrate I walked half a mile down Shattuck and hit Brazil Cafe for the first time (my students strongly recommend their tritip sandwiches). You know, kinda like warriors in the old day eating their defeated enemy’s liver or sum’. It’s supposedly opened today 11am – 9pm. I got there at 11:45, but they were closed, grief-stricken perhaps?

    Feeling pretty defeated myself, I swung by Bongo Burger on Center St. and scored a bacon bun in revenge. They say they’re proud to serve Niman Ranch, and I say I’m proud to refuse the alluring offer of Miss Cashier to pay extra for fries. $6.04 for a third pound burger and water only, please.

    The problem with big burgers like these is that they don’t fit in my mouth. I nibbled around like a squirrel on a tough nut,with melting cheese stringing from side to side and lettuce shreds falling like autumn leaves. Part of the problem is with the bun. So freaking puffy! When you go to McDonald’s and Burger King they give you these tired soft breads that stick flat to the patty like white on rice, and nothing falls off as long as you got a good grip on the bun. Here it’s like fresh-out-of-the-oven bread. Warm and crusty and pillowy and bready.

    The bacon was the opposite. Thick and chewy like spiral ham. Nothing like the smoking crispy strips sizzled in lard they show on ads. All good though. Even better, they didn’t sneak in any pickles, so I didn’t have to pick any out.

    Now I’m full for the rest of the day.

    In the orange spirit, it’s time for a clementine.

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