OC SuperFair!

by janet on September 14th, 2009

YEEEES.  That’s a good lookin’ fried basket of fried fried-ness combo platter with fried stuff, fried objects, and fried things topped with some fried items!  Simon and I kick-started our day with this at the OC Superfair earlier this summer.  I went despite vowing that I would never return to any county fair for half a decade, because I (a) didn’t think my arteries could handle it [after all, I am turning – gasp! – thirty this December] (b) didn’t think I had the wherewithal to do another five-part blog post in me.

But Simon did puppy eyes at me and his puppy Payback did puppy eyes at me and Simon added on the guilt trip of the fact that I was moving away and his puppy Payback licked my neck so what could I do?

We went on Day 1, hour 1, because they were offering both free parking and free admission.  We walked to the end of a line that quite literally had over a thousand people in it, and ended up in the dirty back corner of the parking lot, squished in line between annoying chitlins to the front and a hot-girl/ugly-friend high school duo behind. We got to hear about the hot one’s exciting night last night when she totally went over to Tyler’s house even though he’s kind of shady and it was super shady because he busted out a bottle of wine and she was, like, GOD, but then they toootally finished the bottle anyway even though it was SO OBV that all he wanted to do was, like, hook up with her and she tooootally wasn’t into it.

The ugly one asked very sensibly at this point: “So did you hook up?”

And the hot one said, “Ewww NOOO NO WAAAY!  I mean, maybe, like, a little, but like, yeah.”

Classic.  Anyway, we got into the fair, which is probably about 5/8ths of the size of the LA fair.  Much more manageable.  We got, at Chicken Charlie’s, the fried combo platter above, but that wasn’t the main event at that booth.


DEEP FRIED WHITECASTLE.  Are you fucking serious me?  I am not sure why the picture is so sickly pink, but it’s a very accurate reflection of this item’s grossness.  The problem was this: the bun was already bready, so breading a bready thing just doesn’t work.  It ended up mushy and just SATURATED with grease.  In fact, the most refreshing part of this was the cheese, which should indicate something to you.  I think what WOULD have been delicious in a fair-type way would have been to batter a Whitecastle burger and onions wrapped in a little cheese cocoon, so that the batter BECOMES the bun, you know?  Hmmmm.  We need to try this, Simon.

You may already know about my irrational frog phobia/hatred.  Isn’t it a thing in some cultures to eat the thing you want to conquer?  I was quite sure of this, so naturally I had to eat frog legs.  Since I’ve already made the “what’s up? turtle butt.” joke on MTFB I can’t really make an analogous “what’s up? frog butt.” joke but LOOK at it!  It looks like a mutilated miniature human’s lower half, deep fried and thrown on the basket butt-side up for a good spankin’.  Me, Simon, and Vic (who had joined us by this point and was the actual procurer of the frog legs) kinda just sat there for a while, looking at it.  Then, suddenly, Vic picked it up and brutally tore the legs apart, splitting the butt cheeks clear in half!  Then, equally as suddenly and brutally, he stuffed the leg, butt-end first, into his mouth and tore it off the bone!  Horrifying and unsettling but I couldn’t stop laughing.

A frog leg prepared meticulously in a French restaurant is no doubt a delicate, elegant, and moist little morsel of food.  Frog legs dragged to a hot fair in bulk, probably low quality since that shit’s just getting deep fried anyway, well…it was an excruciatingly nausea-beckoning taste that was perfectly between fish and meat.  Fishy, soggy meat with hideous black veins running throughout the whole thing. Shudderrrr.

It was time to get, like, just a regular item of food.  Thank goodness for hot dogs, because there’s nothing that screams “regular!” like bits of lips and hooves and gristle and unrendered fat, right?  You’ll have to ask Simon about this because before I could even take a bite it was gone.  That poo face.  I’m still bitter about it.

Do you guys remember our epic quest for a fryloaf at the LA County Fair?  We went on Quest Part II here, to no (initial) avail.  We finally had to ask at the information booth, where the woman said, “You want a fry…loaf?” in the tone of voice and with the timing of that one ridiculous scene in that ridiculous movie Face/Off where John Travolta is talking to a lackey and he’s like, “I’m gonna take my face…off” and the lackey says “Face…off?” and John Travolta says, “Face…off.”  She was utterly confused so we had to find one on our own, which we DID!  Apparently they are not called fryloafs, but rather Juicy Fries (???).  Unlike last time, we did not demolish our JuicyFryloaf.  Fail.

Instead, we trounced over to the goldfish booth to score a fish for Christopher.  Which was awesome, except, well, yeah.  We all know how that turned out.

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