This week's review is one several months in the making, believe it or not. I started writing this one in freaking March... but realized this first draft was giving a very incomplete picture of this particular place. As such, I knew exactly what had to be done to do this properly. The first half of the review sat on the shelf until early November, with my plan to at last finish it on a Monday flight to California. Ummm... yeah...
The endless bullsh*t of the past several weeks aside... we're finally doing this, a place that somehow took me half a year to finish writing about. It's Cherry Street Bar-B-Que. Located on... I think you can guess which street!
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Despite its primary location in a very developmentally barren (though that is changing) part of Toronto, Cherry Street Bar-B-Que has been a big hit pretty much since opening their doors in the summer of 2016. Within half a decade, Cherry BBQ grew out into residency stands in food halls, a permanent kiosk in Scotiabank Arena (even with my discount I ain't paying those prices), and various other pop-ups. Oh, and a little Michelin Bib Gourmand feature.
Owner/pit-master Lawrence La Pianta grew up in Toronto and long held serious passion for all things barbeque, first working at it as a backyard hobby with friends (cooking a whole pig, Lechon, to be precise). His career in film/television required long trips all over North America... giving an opportunity to explore legendary BBQ joints and learn tricks of the BBQ trade from some of the very best pitmasters in the land. Most notable to him was taking lessons at the 17th Street BBQ in Murphysboro, Illinois.
The leap into actually running a restaurant came about when he helped out a restaurateur friend with a "once a week" barbeque menu (they didn't have anything for Saturdays, according to La Pianta). This later grew into a twice a week, etc... until eventually seventy percent of their full menu was just BBQ. He left this kitchen life after a year to return into the film industry but naturally, the passion and idea to finally open a full time barbeque restaurant of his own was there.
Knowing the Portlands area well from his time in film (that's where almost all of the production studios are here in Toronto) in an old abandoned bank he found his ideal spacious spot at (now Old?) Cherry Street and Commissioners Road.
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I've been to Cherry Street Bar-B-Que a few times over their eight year run, though quite infrequently despite having passed by it at least two thousand times (actual estimate).
The first time in 2018 I took a close friend (and occasional Pizza Quest Associate) out for her birthday and we sat on their excellent patio: flat and spacious, mostly picnic tables at the time, and beyond the bees hassling us (one of the few things I like about Winter is their absence) it was a tremendous time. Considering how open and unobstructed (for now) most of the Portlands are, you get a seriously good view of the lake and the Toronto skyline from their sidewalk level patio, which faces west.
There was another time a few years later I went to Cherry Street Bar-B-Que with some softball friends but that story sucks because I dropped all of my takeout food-I-mean-itneverhappenedwasneverthere! Nope.
Now, watch me as I clumsily attempt to recreate my experience of going to a place several months ago. Ummm.... uh... it was night time! Yeah that's it. And... kinda cold early spring weather. Yes I'm doing good! Nailing this. Hmmm... I wanna say I was... hungry? Probably? Oh oh! They were open. Now that's an important part of this tale...
Well... at least I wrote down my thoughts at the time about what I ordered. Here they are: take it away, March WCStreet!
(December editor's side note: this was a special I don't believe they offer anymore)
So here is the pastrami cheesesteak plate: pastrami and queso with peppers (no onions please) on a herb potato bun, served with fries and slaw on the side. As far as fries go, these ones are fairly ordinary. Decent crispiness, nicely seasoned with salt, even texture throughout... perfectly serviceable. There are far better fries and far worse. They do fine.
The slaw is more on the sweeter, slightly vinegary side, with some nice subtle tang at the end. I usually prefer creamier coleslaws but this one here is extremely nice: I'd be tempted to buy sides of this for my own sandwiches at home.
Onto the sandwich! I gotta say, this is the strangest pastrami sandwich I myself have ever come across. When you imagine a pastrami sandwich, a classic simple image appears: a thick stack of that salty sliced dark red meat, probably a squirt of table mustard, all stuffed between two slices of a soft rye bread.
This Cherry BBQ offering is clearly not that. A circular bun, no mustard in sight, a drenching of cheese sauce and strangest of all: the pastrami is shredded. So bizarre... like a classic got transmogrified in a teleportation accident..
Definitely not what I expected (the special called it a pastrami "plate" and so I thought all the ingredients would be separate) but the clue is in the second word: 'cheesesteak'. Essentially, this is their take on a classic Philly Cheesesteak sandwich, only with pastrami instead of standard beef steak and a round bun instead of a sub/rectangular one.
It's a very weird experiment and the flavour is interesting, although it doesn't completely work. Again, I omitted the onions (a move on par with dissing their sports teams that's sure to get me run out of town in Philadelphia). I kept the peppers though... but they are hardly in here at all. It's possible they are minced into the pastrami itself, but this sandwich really could've used some kind of bright crunch or sweetness that sliced peppers can provide.
As is, as far as fillings for a sandwich go this is kind of an awkward one. It's aggressively cheesy and the cheese itself is like a thick sticky sauce (a taste similar to processed American cheese, Velveeta I've seen suggested) that absorbs the flavour and texture of all it touches. On occasion the salty red meat of the pastrami breaks through, and those bites are quite delicious... but about half the time you're eating a quality but soft bun slathered in gooey processed cheese with hints of shredded meat throughout.
Just a strange concoction, and I wouldn't really recommend it. Scrap the bun: if the inside of this sandwich were utilized as say, a topping for french fries? Now you've got something really good. The crispness of those fries would be perfect to cut through the sheer thickness of this cheese/shredded pastrami blanket... rather than the endless thick bites of heavy bun and cheese. Seems a shame I went to such a renowned BBQ restaurant and ordered the most bizarre, out of character item available. Wish I could go back in time and try this over again.
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How about forward in time? Cliffhanger! Tune in next time, on... Contrived Reasons To Drag Out A Review. Er, I mean The Tuesday Taste.
Tuesday Tune
I don't feel like writing a description. There's something kind of punk rock about it and is a wicked song.
Another Tuesday... another Taste! Yeah it's been a while, and as such all I'm going to say for now is: fuck November.
With that necessary venom out of the way (don't worry there's plenty more later)... lets talk food. Mayday Burger is a spot I happened upon rather accidentally: while trying to plan my visit to the first Shake Shack in Toronto I noticed there was another burger joint on the same block, held in considerably high regard by Google Reviews. I probably saw an Instagram ad that furthered my awareness of them and honestly... IG ads have indeed made me aware of places to review that I would not have known about otherwise (for better or worse). Surely nobody likes this current age of constant advertising bombardment... but an ad that informs you of a potentially good burger restaurant? Completely acceptable... hell, I'd say a positive addition to our bizarre modern society.
That burger joint is, clearly if you've read the title, Mayday Burger... self-described as an "ultimate burger rescue" (their logo is even a burger on wheels). Lord knows after the month I just had (again.... fuck November) I could certainly use any kind of rescuing, so lets see what Mayday is all about.
The internet is rather mute on any kind of backstory for Mayday Burger, so short of actually emailing them and asking (which I am certainly not in the mood to do, plus incognito is my modus operandi)... all you get are my wild estimations and conjecture. Just like old times!
From what I can glean, Mayday has been open for a little over a year at their current little shop near Dundas and Yonge Street (they're basically right next door to the legendary Imperial Pub) and seem to be related in some capacity to nearby dessert spot Pass The Syrup (they might even share the same address? I'm in this area so rarely that frankly I have no clue what's going on... all I know is that it looks drastically different every time I head down there).
As mentioned, it is a very small space: just the four stools at the window counter you see in the photo above provide any kind of "in-seat" dining. Considering the hustle/bustle of this part of town, the campus of TMU on one side and the artificial city centre of Dundas Square and Eatons on the other (speaking of advertisement bombardment)... this is indeed a prime location for grabbing food on the go and a smash burger and fries certainly fits that description.
I made my order: a single cheeseburger (my thoughts on double patties have been made clear in previous reviews) with an full helping of fries, plus two side sauces... and unlike the (I suspect) majority of their patrons I instead took one of those very same unoccupied stools by the window.
While I waited, several delivery workers came in and out, a few various folks getting food to go, and a young lady (I'm guessing a TMU student) took a seat at the same counter beside me with an order of waffles and ice cream (looked pretty good, although they were out of a cherry sauce she requested). While the window/vantage point is small, nevertheless it was exceptional for the quietest of hobbies: people watching.
While I normally prefer to go into these reviews blind (as in with as little knowledge of the food as possible, not actual blind by putting two eye patches upon my face) during the course of my pre-research of Mayday I couldn't shake a Reddit comment out of my objectivity. To paraphrase the assessment: the burger was exceptional, but the fries simply "meh" and "frozen tasting".
Well, here are those same fries and having now sampled them for myself... definitely a few steps above "meh". If ever frozen, and frankly usually I can tell but not always... these lack that obvious flat pre-frozen flavour.
I quite liked them: like if McDonald's fries actually resembled potatoes. Nothing mind-blowing... a shoestring fry thinness, lightly salted (with a fairly generic cajun seasoning as a decent little touch) and a consistent light crispiness that held together even once the heat of the fryer had evaporated. Plus, the portion was rather massive... two dipping sauces and I nearly ran out of both.
On said subject of dips: on the left is their house spicy mayo, a Gochujang mayo to be precise... meanwhile on the right is their standard cheese sauce.
Starting with the Gochujang, a flavour I personally was not at all unfamiliar with... while the level of heat to the spice isn't much to write home about, nevertheless the taste of it was an excellent dip for these tasty and simple fries. Very much a sweet and sour affair to the taste, with some tingle on the tongue and the necessary creaminess that makes a dip a positive addition. It's certainly different than your typical spicy and immediately smoky and sharper chipotle-like mayo kinda thing that seems quite in vogue with many similar burger joints: rather this has a notable sweetness and tang which is commendable at the very least for thinking outside a usually predictable box. Thumbs up.
The cheese sauce? Yeah... kind of a let down. Very much a relative of your "7-11" nacho cheese dispenser that one smothers stale nacho chips in at 4am inbetween binge watching sitcoms and bong hits. No offense intended to anyone partaking in such behavior... been there plenty of times... but it isn't the most subtle of culinary intake is my general point. This cheese sauce here, it's a notch above that pure plastic-flavour but very much a slightly better off cousin of it. A paid for condo downtown, if you will... and hey nothing wrong with that fake-cheese flavour and this is a decent variation of it, but like a plastic condo downtown it's just never been my thing.
How about the main attraction, the Mayday Burger itself? As this has been a summer/autumn of consistently trying new-ish smash burgers here on the Tuesday review show, and we have done some damn good ones... Mayday is indeed another burger in that same flattened style.
And indeed, the run of success continues as Mayday is one of the better ones in this Toronto smash craze.
Not the best: I'd still take Harry's Charbroiled over this quite comfortably... but Mayday makes a legitimately damn good burger. The hearty portion of nicely melted American cheese (not a fan of plastic cheese as a sauce, but I love it on a burger) really helps give it that classic "cheeseburger" taste: greasy beef smothered in semi-real tasting cheddar cheese, with the lettuce and pickles adding the necessary and secondary veggie presence. Their "Mayday Sauce" is a standard burger sauce: relish mustard and mayo, and is not much of a factor here regardless. Nevertheless, this Mayday cheeseburger is a pleasure and a well executed take on a classic.
Replicating a well known classic can only get you so far without the actual quality to do the concept justice, and while Mayday has a bit too much of a "grill/charred" flavour to my personal tastes... the strong quality and preparation of the beef itself is undeniable. It is greasy only in flavour not texture (truly the more ideal kind) holding plenty of consistent tenderness and juiciness within the patty... there's a certain taste within a frozen beef that is nearly impossible to shake and this certainly is not that.
Considering that heavy hint of grill flavour in here, I'd like to call this one of the best "dirty burgers" I've encountered. Leap to your own conclusions what that actually means (especially if you're thinking the latter part of Trailer Park Boys first run) but I mean it as a strong compliment. Simply... it's a dirty taste: greasy in all the best ways upon a palette, with a soft un-grilled bun just there to optimize that particular sensation. You taste the char and the grill.
Essentially... they've picked a particular burger lane and definitely know what they're doing with it.
Overall! It's good to be back and even better that this comeback review is of such a competent quality. Mayday makes a darn good cheeseburger and I do give my recommendation. Best in Toronto? Rescuing the very concept of it? Ahhhhhh... nah like I said, the heavy char-hint of the taste isn't quite for me and so there are quite a few I'd choose over Mayday.
Considering that, I'm still strongly recommending them... a tasty burger is a tasty burger and that was indeed my experience. Filling as well, considering I only got a single (the basket of potatoes they gave as a portion of fries probably helped as well). Those same fries, like I said, aren't really a "must try" but they do the job. Meanwhile the main attraction, a greasy tasty cheeseburger... definitely delivers on the promise. An enjoyable rescue to a cheeseburger craving, that is for certain.
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Dear Doug
All right... time for the real venom.
It's been a month since I published a review (an objectively fucking terrible month at that)... I've been holding/saving back some rage and there are few more deserving targets than the nasty cretin in charge of Ontario.
Now... I am an avid cyclist of course and you can reasonably argue the virtue of bike lanes on the major downtown arteries Yonge Street or Bloor here in Toronto (of course I disagree, and that removing them to add more lanes for cars is not going to solve our traffic issues, according to every single goddamn urban study and example that simply isn't how this works... more room for cars means more drivers... maybe our endless condo construction has something to do with road congestion??? but fine).
No, the fact that this provincial government, already constantly stepping on our toes to micromanage Toronto and circumvent the authority of local officials we elected... passes a fucking bill making it illegal to file a lawsuit against their own government in case somebody is horribly injured or killed as a result of removal of these bike lanes? Isn't that as obvious an admission of guilt as it gets? "Hey, we're doing something that we are slyly admitting might jeopardize people's lives... so screw you! We aren't culpable because... shady law we just passed within a week of this move! Now you can't even get restitution if a loved one or you are severely injured!" Disgusting. Just purely... fucking... disgusting. What the fuck are we doing here, people.
Fuck them. Into the sun. This is evil behavior, full stop... they couldn't give two shits about you or traffic or anything... it's a political stoking of the "cars versus bikes" stupidity and a distraction from the even more terrible things they're doing to this province. And they know they're getting away with it. Please please please vote these assholes out of office whenever the next election is.
Vote. Fucking vote! Come on people! It takes 15 fucking minutes of your day! The last provincial election turnout was pathetic... and well if enough of you don't care about democracy then I guess we deserve what we get. Except... nobody deserves Doug Ford. No.... fucking... body. Beers on me if somebody kicks him in the crotch... although it might be a tough aim as I suspect it is an extremely small target.
I've had enough of being remotely civil about this. These goons don't deserve anything approaching that level of respect. I'm sick of biking past Ontario Place and seeing the results of apathy and bad faith arguments. Voting matters. Throw these corrupt greaseballs back into the garbage bin they belong in and never should've been allowed to crawl out of.
....
....
...still a good cheeseburger though. Good job Mayday.
Burnt Ends
You're still with me? Good golly... genuinely I hate spitting such poison like the paragraphs above... I try my very best to be a positive fella and such things are already difficult when severe depression tends to constantly disrupt your attempts at positivity. It surely does not help the battle when rationality or basic human decency appears to be entering the realm of ghosts worldwide. South Korea! Just this morning. Do not take democracy for granted and do not follow any leader who believes they're above such things, ever. Guarantee 99.9 shits out of 100 they care nothing about your issues.
Geez it appears I'm still ranting. Dark times personally and for the world, for real. Legitimately one of the worst months of my life, this November was! Fuck November.
Anyhow... I was still writing a significant amount this horrible fucking month and hell I even finally finished my extended look at the Wilco discography. Also quite a few pizza reviews on the immediate horizon... I guarantee December will be a far more active month here on WC Street. Finish the year strong! Especially in such dark times... and I'm a white male aged 18 to 49, everyone listens to me! No matter how dumb my suggestions are!
Not everyone is so fortunate, duh.
Tuesday Tune
When a terrible month hits you hard and an overall sense of misanthropy seems to dominate (I'm sure none of you noticed)... this particular artist tends to hit the right spot. For the record I am an optimist (gotta believe in something and it might as well be hope)... but geezus fucking god (if such a thing exists) I'm certainly not remotely as optimistic as I once was.
Enjoy this song!
That's all for this week! Sucks to be away for a month... I had some fun and exciting ideas planned out that were related to a hard earned California vacation earlier in Novemeber (In-N-Out review?)... which fell apart in nearly as embarrassing a way as possible. Twice.
Setting money on fire would have at least been satisfying. In-between that, my neighbour upstairs tried breaking into my apartment at 4am, shining a flashlight into my window, while also later threatening to physically assault me that same morning. That was fun to wake up to while you're stressed about trying to catch a flight, which in the end did not end up happening. Wonder why? No shit, I'm not in a particularly pleasant mood.
But we're back here on Tuesdays and lets finish the year strong. As Fox Mulder often said... I want to believe. Here's hoping December is kinder to myself and more importantly to all of you. Stay safe, stay warm, and most of all don't spill that mustard.
And also once again... fuck Doug Ford and fuck November.
Unlike a fellow longtime indie/alternative rock-like outfit like Spoon, whose stylistic evolution album to album are mostly subtle in nature... Wilco wander all over the place, yet maintain a bedrock of relative decent quality even at their worst. There isn't a truly terrible Wilco album, and they've sure made a whole bunch of them. Most of those merely decent records will pass you by via their relative 'decent-ness' and leave little impression otherwise. As for their peaks... some of the best alternative rock put to tape in the past quarter century.
Rising from the ashes of punk/alt-country darlings Uncle Tupelo, the formation of Wilco was Tupelo co-lead singer Jeff Tweedy quickly bringing back most of the Tupelo gang (without co-lead songwriter Jay Farrar who countered by forming Son Volt) to record their debut record A.M. in early 1995. For the next few records the band slowly drifted from those country roots and into more experimental concepts, led by Tweedy as the band's ringleader and for a time multi-instrumentalist Jay Bennett. This wasn't a smooth transition at all: aside from bassist John Stirratt and Tweedy himself the entire lineup of the group would completely turn over by their fifth release.
Since 2004 however, with the addition of the simply marvelous Nels Cline on guitar... the lineup has remained completely stable as the band has settled (for the most part) into agreeable light indie rock, with an occasional characteristic dark twist from Tweedy here and there. From alt-country, to art rock, into comfortable "dad rock" and then all of those things again in whatever sequence... it's been far from a typical progression but Wilco is far from a typical band. As their latest release proved, not many longtime groups (nearly thirty years now) manage to keep the curveballs as sharp.
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Around 2004 is about the time I started getting into Wilco, which is really the tail end of their second (the most experimental) era. Jeff Tweedy at the time had a reputation of being an impossible to work with "mad genius" (which seems so bizarre now in retrospect, as he has clearly chilled out over the years and settled into a sort of quite thoughtful and amicable rock and roll teddy bear) and one suspects his opioid addiction at the time because of constant migraines probably played a part in making him unpleasant to deal with.
With a heavy bag of distinctive, memorable songs... Tweedy is truly a unique songwriter and lyricist. His style ranges from pure gibberish, disturbing tales of dumping dead bodies, a poppy ode to music bands from the past, insular feelings of intense loneliness ("just smile all the time") or just a rollicking romp involving everybody's least favourite day. He's all over the place, but rarely does it feel like he's stretching what he can actually pull off. It's a big reason why Wilco at their very worst are just kind of un-interesting: you know Jeff Tweedy is capable of writing something so much more compelling... with the band's considerable versatility and imagination capable of making endlessly memorable tunes.
Anyhow, lets get into this! Lots of diversity in this catalogue, and a lot of albums with bizarre names as well. When you have a record called Wilco: The Album, which features opening track 'Wilco: The Song'... well you're really winking at the camera at this point, aren't you.
Wilco have released thirteen full length studio albums of their own, at a fairly consistent rate throughout their near-three decade existence. However, when we get into the Wilco Expanded Universe(TM)... things start to get tricky regarding what is and isn't a "Wilco" album. You've got their collaboration with the Minus 5 (also featuring Peter Buck of R.E.M.)... the pair of Loose Fur records with Tweedy, current Wilco drummer Glenn Kotche and Sonic Youth collaborator Jim O'Rourke... The Autumn Defense with Wilco rhythm guitarist Pat Sansone and John Stirratt (also featuring Tweedy at points) and then the Mermaid Avenue project the early version of Wilco did with Billy Bragg (which are credited as "Billy Bragg and Wilco").
There are also two Wilco EPs: More Like The Moon was a companion bonus disc to Yankee Hotel Foxtrot in Australia (the band would officially release it in 2003) while Hot Sun Cool Shroud was legitimately released (to positive reviews) while I was still working on this piece. Hot Sun is extremely good, while Moon is comprised mostly of alternative YHF takes with a couple of moody originals.
For the interest of both conciseness and avoiding confusion, I'm only going to include the two Mermaid Avenue records among those (and yes I know there's technically a third one but it's part of a compilation so... sue me). They are full length albums accredited to the actual band (instead of various members being a part of something else) and the project itself is a good one to discuss anyhow.
Well, lets be an American aquarium drinker and assassin down the avenue, shall we.
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#15. Schmilco (2016)
The 2010s were a minor creative lull for the band. With the first half of the decade showing an uncharacteristic four year gap between records... the latter portion found Wilco productively making up for lost time but mostly with very meager results. While none of these albums are particularly unlistenable by any measure, most of these are rather stylistically faint and forgettable with Schmilco the most faint and forgettable of the bunch. Aside from the jump start pace of "Cry All Day" and sweetness of "If I Ever Was A Child" there's no lasting impression or hook that settles in. Just a very slight album in songcraft and sound.
Cool cover, though.
#14. Ode To Joy (2019)
As mentioned I've seen Wilco live twice (both times at Budweiser Stage here in Toronto) and the Ode To Joy tour was the first go (and only time I wasn't getting paid for the experience). Was depressed, heartbroken and debating whether to go... and bought a ticket with barely an hour to spare and rode my bike as fast as I could.
My overall recollection of seeing them at this time was mostly how these new songs I didn't know were the weakest aspect of the show, whereas they seriously rocked the punchier older stuff.
The general moroseness of Ode hints how those then new songs really lacked the energy of Wilco's older material, because man this is one sombre record. Not a whole lot of pace, electric guitar, or casual feeling be found in these parts: even the faster numbers like "Quiet Amplifier" carry an intense, subdued introspective quality to them. Imagine Tom Petty's Wildflowers without the punchier, poppier tunes, or the general warmth throughout that fine album. All the feelings on Ode To Joy are very muted and distant, which can work within Tweedy's style of songwriting but here the songs just don't stand out. The band sounds in fine form, as they often do... the songs just don't land any punches.
#13. Cruel Country (2022)
My second occasion seeing Wilco live (unfortunately only for a small chunk of the performance during my break) the new songs had much more spirit to them, even if the band sounded a bit too loose and off their typically excellent game.
Cruel Country, as a double album, will immediately draw natural comparisons to Wilco's other double feature, the sprawling second release Being There... both because of the length and how Cruel Country is a big deliberate callback to the band's alt-country roots rock, a shift notable especially after the light indie folk of Ode and Schmilco.
Unfortunately, Country is the significantly inferior album to their sophomore release because it lacks the sheer compelling variety of memorable songs that Being There is so richly filled with. There are a few standouts ("A Lifetime To Find" has some catchy, quirky twang) but most of Cruel Country treads a samey musical path without really giving anything unique or interesting. It's a very safe record that lacks any kind of edge to it.
As a single album this would probably work much better, but at 21 songs(!) long with so many blurring together this becomes a numbing listen front to back... with much of its twangy country rock dulling the senses eventually. Tweedy, who is consistently a fascinating lyricist, doesn't seem to have many interesting ideas on these songs... falling into lazy rhymes with uninteresting results.
Overall... an inoffensive but repetitive effort (and just too many damn songs) from a band that has done much better.
#12. Mermaid Avenue Vol. 2 (2000)
A collection of outakes from the Mermaid Avenue sessions that didn't make the cut for Volume 1, and this is definitely the inferior collection. "Remember The Mountain Bed" is a truly wonderful, beautiful song on here, but I'll talk more about the Mermaid Avenue project when we get to Vol. 1 further down the list.
"Airline To Heaven" is also a terrific song. Here's somebody you probably recognize introducing them performing it:
#11. A.M (1995)
Very much an alt-country album of it's mid 1990s era and a perfectly respectable debut record. Imagine Uncle Tupelo without the whiskey drenched soul or harder punk-like leanings. Tweedy sounds a little uncertain here in his first serious run as a full time vocalist, at times unsure when to go for it or hold back, and as such there's an uneven singing tone among these songs. The band sounds fine (basically the ghost of Tupelo sans Jay Farrar) but they were soon about to branch out and record far more interesting things. One suspects the more considerable success of Son Volt's first record in comparison to Wilco's very modest performance might've lit a spark under these guys.
As its own thing, A.M has its moments of simple and enjoyable light country rock and the record really finds itself in the second half... but it's simply okay in regards to the rest of Wilco's quite sizable and diverse catalogue.
#10. Star Wars (2015)
After a four year unofficial hiatus, Wilco decided to release an album named after a famous Science Fiction franchise also making a grand return that same year. I think a very underrated aspect of these guys is their sense of humour, even if Tweedy claims the title is a coincidence (sure it is, Jeff).
Star Wars is a very loose, straightforward attempt at catchy, guitar driven tempered rock. It doesn't completely work: the second half of the record loses quite a bit of steam, but there are some great melodies in here and unlike most of their later 2010s stuff the band really sounds like they're having a lot of fun rocking out.
There's plenty of loose liveliness to it, and even if not all the songs work the tight energy and pace (at 33 minutes it is the shortest LP in the Wilco catalogue) makes this record a much punchier listen than the three that followed. I always prefer when the band doesn't keep the electric guitars at home. "Random Name Generator" especially is a damn fun, catchy crunchy guitar song while "You Satellite" is a atmospheric spacey noisy jam that sneakily builds (but doesn't overstay its welcome either).
#9. Wilco (The Album) - 2009
Again, underrated sense of humour. Having a self-titled album later in your career isn't out of the ordinary (the Beatles have a few words on that, hell the Velvets did it twice), but Wilco decides to go full Bad Company* and lead off this same album with a song also named after themselves. It isn't really a great song but points for sheer goofiness, fellas.
Wilco The Album is fairly uneven in style, which throws it off as an overall listen, but there are some real damn winners in here. Tweedy's sweet duet with Feist on "You And I" is delightful (their vocal ranges are so different which somehow makes it work), the nightmarish panic attack tale of "Bull Black Nova" (essentially a man freaking out while driving with a murdered body of a lover in the trunk), the delicately lovely "Solitaire" or the heart-wrenching closer "Everlasting Love"... the songwriting really hits in several moments.
But there are some forgettable tracks as well and the general tone of the album doesn't coalesce very neatly. Like a jumble of songs without any theme or logical connection. An entirely solid, good Wilco (the) album... but we're starting to approach the excellence and this one stumbles a bit short of that horizon.
*technically 'Bad Company' by Bad Company doesn't lead off their album (also called "Bad Company") it's in the middle... but my joke still stands damn it.
#8. Cousin (2023)
After the bleak Ode To Joy and too simple country rock infusions of Cruel Country, Wilco veered back into their more experimental art-rock leanings with (at the time of this article) their most recent release... enlisting an outside producer in Cate Le Bon to shake up the dynamics.
The result? Certainly the most interesting record they've produced in over a decade. While they don't go completely off the rails, this album does roll along like the band isn't playing it safe: the weird sonic textures and atypical melodies of their late 90s/early 2000s material is hinted throughout, and immediately so with the fabulous opener "Infinite Surprise". The melodic noisiness is back, baby!
Cousin is far from a perfect album, or a grand return to form even. The weird turns don't always quite land on their feet and it does lack that one true killer memorable track ("Levee" comes close). It does flow together nicely, however, fully going for a late 1960s pop meets spooky introspective art-folk meets quirky indie rock. The sombre "Pittsburgh" finds Tweedy embracing his inner Neil Young while giving another classic Wilco opening lyric with 'Oh I love the rain/and how the rain can turn/shit into a rose'.
The more upbeat moments on the record help to balance out the bleak ones (such as the helpless "Ten Dead"), and as such it plays like the most dynamic Wilco record in a while. Like if the quiet folk of Ode To Joy mixed up with the energy and full sonic sound of Star Wars, all with an undercurrent of quirky sweetness both those records lack... and with more interesting and catchier songs. Genuinely great to hear this band sounding so fresh again in both melody and songcraft.
#7. Mermaid Avenue (1998)
Technically not a proper Wilco album, but also technically yes? It does feature the full band of Wilco as constructed at that time (Tweedy, Ken Coomer on drums, bassist John Stirratt and multi-instrumentalist Jay Bennett).
Regardless, it's a fascinating work. Teaming up with British musician Billy Bragg, Wilco (with express permission and supervision of Woody's daughter Nora) cover a bunch of unreleased Woody Guthrie songs/poems. Bob Dylan in his novel 'Chronicles' claims to have potentially almost been given these very same writings from Guthrie in the early 1960s, but supposedly Guthrie's wife wasn't home to let him inside to grab the box full of lyrics.
While Bob would surely have done a fine job, me thinks... Wilco and Bragg themselves do these works a fine amount of justice. Although this is a Wilco article, the Bragg-sung tunes (it's about 50/50) feel like the ones that best embody the spirit of these songs... his heartfelt deeper voice suiting the rural vagabond folkish hero material significantly more than Tweedy's poppier inclinations.
Still, both singers have standout moments... the wearily bittersweet Tweedy and Jay Bennett led "California Stars" is just exceptional, Bragg's soulful rendition of "Way Over Yonder In The Minor Key" (with Natalie Merchant) is riveting, there are plenty of more comedic moments like the bar-room"Christ For President" or "Ingrid Bergman", and the closer is the stunning "The Unwelcome Guest" (Guthrie's tale of an American frontier Robin Hood) that pulls off the trick of evoking both lamentation and hope. A remarkable project filled with wonderful moments both world weary and goofy, a fitting tribute to Woody indeed.
(Sansone's little banjo solo there after Tweedy and Stirratt mess up the lyrics is worth the watch alone)
#6. The Whole Love (2011)
Possibly the best combination of opening and closing tracks in the Wilco catalogue, and they could not be more different. "Art of Almost" is a glitching, experimental rock fever dream... while "One Sunday Morning" somehow remains saddening and captivating for 12 minutes despite its melodic and repetitive simplicity. The latter is truly one of my very favourite Wilco songs. I can't explain it, the song just freezes me in a moment... that simple little piano lick and the way Tweedy softly sings it. Tears every time.
As for everything inbetween... Whole Love is a bit too all over the place. The 1930s-esque jig of "Capitol City" worked better when it was Paul McCartney singing "Honey Pie"... on this extremely eerie record it sticks out like a violin on a Ramones song.
Still, this is mostly a crazily impressive collection of songs... "Red Lung Rising", the flowery title track, the catchy pop of "Dawned on Me", the gentle night-time build of "Black Moon"... the record hits far more often than it misses, despite the flow of it being jagged (again, "Capitol City" might be the weirdest thing they ever recorded for an LP, and we're talking about freaking Wilco here).
Definitely a very good Wilco record and a very accessible one: beyond the morose extended closer and feverish opener this is the later version of the band in typical pop-rock mode, helped by a very strong batch of songs.
#5. Being There (1996)
Very few double albums can boast consistency or an expertly smooth flow amongst such a sprawl of songs. I love Physical Graffiti (it rules) which is arguably one of the finest double albums ever made... and even the second half of that exceptional record carries a couple of serious duds ("Night Flight"? Ugh. Bad Rod Stewart called he wants his 'bad' back...)
That said, are all nineteen songs of Being There great? Not really. It really starts to wane in the final quarter... and a lot of that impression is because the album starts off like a cannon. The chaotic "Misunderstood" (with the band not playing their usual instruments) gives you an immediate idea what you're in for.
Are some of Wilco's best songs on here? You betcha. "Outta Mind Outta Sight", "Hotel Arizona", "Sunken Treasure", "Misunderstood"... holy goddamn. "Monday", "Forget The Flowers", "Say You Miss Me"... "I Got You"... way more victories on here than losses.
There's definitely more of that early Wilco alt-country twang on here than... well than on nearly any other album the band has made since. They always have some of it somewhere, but here it is center stage. Lots of slide guitar, some lap or pedal steel, all servicing plenty of songs dealing with lonely heartbreak (legitimately a song called "The Lonely 1" on here). That all works fine, what makes this album so damn good is that, unlike the debut, they're playing a bit more comfortable, Tweedy sings with the confidence to carry a record, and now they're realizing they can explore everything they can do.
Before recording the band brought in Jay Bennett as another guitar player into the fold, with Bennett's ability to play keyboards (no one else in the band could) giving the group another musical dimension to explore. The result in the songs is staggering: alternating between bar-room rockers, softer ballads, noisy psychedelic freakouts and pure power-pop without breaking a sweat. This might be the most energetic the band has ever sounded. And for a double album, it all fits together with an impressive natural tightness. All of these tunes feel like they were born and grew up together in the same little house. Fantastic and clean production: all the instruments just pop and blend.
As said, it's a double album... so there are some bloated moments, songs that are two minutes too long, that drag the record down on a front-to-back listen. Regardless, there are just so many classic Wilco tunes on here that they still play live even three decades later... Being There is undeniable within their catalogue. A wild romp holding hands with genuine heartfelt moments... not their most complex songwriting but there's an endearing earnestness and innocence to it.
#4. A Ghost Is Born (2004)
A strong contender for the silver medal of this list, full stop... if it simply weren't for Tweedy's 15 minute long instrumental exploration/interpretation of his migraines on "Less Than You Think". Capturing what that experience felt like, while an interesting sonic experiment... it doesn't need to occupy nearly a quarter of this otherwise excellent album's runtime. It's Wilco's "Metal Machine Music" and is arguably harder to listen to.
Tweedy was battling prescription drug addiction at the time (he'd go into rehab shortly after Ghost was released, delaying the tour) and so having a song that beyond a minimal folk intro is nothing more than a whining guitar tone... I get what he was trying to say but I certainly don't ever want to listen to it. This is (for similar reasons) why I can only take the first four minutes of "Sister Ray" before getting irritated.
The rest of Ghost is just so freaking good though, and has aged extremely well. It somehow seems to sound better every additional time I listen to it, like there's yet another song I didn't fully appreciate, and I've listened to it a lot. Opening with "At Least That's What You Said" jolts you awake with it's intense frantic guitar workout after Tweedy's quiet piano intro (and is even better live when Cline is rocking the guitar on lead).
It's very much a band in transition. Jay Bennett and original drummer Ken Coomer were gone, leaving Tweedy himself as the lead guitarist and producer Jim O'Rourke encouraged him to improve his guitar playing. Keyboardist Mikael Jorgenson came onboard (he'd been a part of the Minus 5 project which Wilco produced) and guitarists Pat Sansone and the incomparable Nels Cline would join for the tour... but in the meanwhile most of Ghost is original bassist John Stirrat, Glenn Kotche on drums, multi-instrumentalist Leroy Bach (who'd appeared on previous records) and new fella Jorgensen dealing with a pain-killer addicted Tweedy who apparently while recording could only physically stand for a few minutes at a time because of opioid withdrawal.
Shockingly, even the gentler pop songs carry a sad undercurrent... like the sweet "Hummingbird" and "Theologians", or the stomping fun "I'm A Wheel", or the sneaky little hidden closer "Late Greats"... or the quiet-loud "Muzzle of Bees" (the 'Kicking Television' live version is just sublime electric guitar work). There's an understated softness to this album in tandem with a lot of harsh lyrical or songwriting elements, giving the record a bizarre dichotomy wherein the music is often pleasant and joyful, yet the songs are intense and occasionally terrifying. I love the straightforwardness tale of "Handshake Drugs" (and yes it's also wicked live) but it's pretty obvious the carefree fun melody intentionally masks the darkness of what Tweedy is singing about (it's his "Waiting For My Man").
It's a wonderful rock record that bares its bones confidently yet uncomfortably. Really the last record Tweedy ever sounds tortured: on later records he dives into darker places no doubt but here it really does play like a man looking over the edge, like he himself is living what he is singing. That's why this is kind of a scary record, there's something very wrong behind the lighter moments. Twenty years later it plays like a diary of somebody who was able to overcome serious issues, and this is the lowest chapter between the lines.
On a happier note, this is the perfect segueway to again mention Kicking Television. Wilco's singular live album, released shortly after this record, is simply one of the best live rock albums of the previous two decades. Guitarist Nels Cline joined the band for the post-album tour and the dude can just goddamn play, his unpredictable jazzy influence, precisely technical licks giving the cuts they play from Ghost another level to them.
#3. Sky Blue Sky (2007)
Full of it's own uniquely bleak Tweedy moments ("Leave Me Like You Found Me" for instance), yet Sky Blue Sky brings an odd sunniness to the proceedings. The album runs a little too long and I always forget what actually closes the record, but this thing flows between happy, sad, and sheer sublime musical playing that the length or the frequent shifts into sad loneliness never disrupt the overall lightness. The band (the first album with the still current lineup) is seriously tight and on their game.
It's a strangely brilliant work, despite not being as immediately memorable as previous entries on this list. Sky Blue Sky follows a lot of the A Ghost Is Born blueprint: intense minimal introspective songs paired with lots of electric guitar freakouts. The biggest differences are one: this album is far less pop/catchy song-focused than Ghost, leaning more into jazz-rock at times (I recall thinking on first listen it was like Wilco made a Steely Dan record) and two: the addition of Nels Cline improves those electric guitar freakouts by several measures. His playing on "Side With The Seeds", or "Impossible Germany" (you can argue that is Wilco's best song and I won't put up a strong fight) is simply ridiculous. I'll agree that the second era of Wilco's biggest shortcoming is you don't get enough of this dude's guitar. Cline is so damn good, and Sky Blue Sky is probably the most you hear him on a Wilco record.
Tweedy still sings like a man alone in a room unsure how to quietly escape, but there's more of a faint hopefulness to his words this time around rather than the inevitable accepted doom of Ghost. There is a bright, almost sweetness to this record... after two albums within a musical and personal chaos this record plays like you've survived a storm and are now on calmer peaceful waters, not in great condition but still alive enough and assessing where you're at.
There's an odd magic to this album, it plays fantastically front to back, and has some tremendous songs. I haven't even mentioned "Shake It Off" yet (Wilco did it first and way way better than Taylor). A phenomenal record, one the band has since yet to approach.
#2. summerteeth (1999)
Continuing upon the rootsy breakthrough of Being There, Wilco's third record is where they really begin to push out into very different musical territories. You still get some faint hints of the country twang the previous record bathed in, most notably on "ELT"... but beyond that this album is a varied stylistic powerhouse. The first clue that this was more than just some cute alt-country band from Illinois... and without coincidence the first clue of Tweedy's darker lyricism. The just incredible "Via Chicago" opens with 'Dreamed about killing you again last night/and it felt alright to me'. Not a line Tweedy's wife was fond of (gee wonder why) but summerteeth in these very dark moments works because it isn't a wish or call for such unforgivable violence... it's an internal question why these thoughts exist in the first place. The fact the album cannot answer its own questions is kind of the point.
Much of the record was recorded just by Tweedy and multi-instrumentalist Jay Bennett, leaving out (or in some cases re-doing) parts that bassist John Stirratt and then-drummer Ken Coomer had recorded. "There wasn't really a band, just two guys losing their minds in the studio" as Coomer would later remark.
"Losing your mind" seems an apt description of this album, as part of what makes summerteeth so impressive is how casually it wildly jumps between sound and tone between songs... yet somehow none of it ever becomes inaccessible or weird for weirdness sake (the end of "Via Chicago" comes close, with it's noisy chaos certainly a preview of the next record).
There is a very natural flow to it all, such as the bright pop of "Nothing'severgonnastandinmyway" leading into the quirky wandering medley of "Pieholden Suite" (complete with a horn filled ending). Moments of summerteeth are almost Beatle-esque: whether it be that same infusion of light classical instruments, the dreamy "My Darling" with it's odd backwards-sounding organs and bizarre percussion (like something off of Revolver), or the closer "Candy Floss" which is like Strawberry Fields on prozac. Even the sweet piano tune "When You Wake Up Feeling Old" reminds one of McCartney's schmaltzier Sgt. Pepper output.
Beyond musically, the lyrical jump in Tweedy's songwriting is also very noticeable... some of his most memorable lyrics are on here ("buried you alive in a fireworks display, raining down on me") and many provide an element of shocking darkness like "you know she begs me not to hit her" which hits the listener closing the otherwise beautifully lush "She's A Jar".
This is the album Tweedy really starts baring his emotional uncertainties, even on the more upbeat tunes there's an unease within his voice and his words. This was deliberate: the record took a long time to make and combined with touring and the Mermaid Avenue project, he wasn't thrilled being away so long from his wife and young family... and in an effort to become a better lyricist he was reading a lot of Henry Miller and William Gass, while also starting to write down lyrics that came to him rather than just "writing tons of stuff in my head and then just forgetting" to paraphrase.
The result is an indie-rock masterpiece, full stop. One of the most impressive albums of the era and there isn't a single song I don't like. It used to be the opener "Can't Stand It" (which was re-mixed in a desperate attempt by the label to have something resembling a radio-friendly single)... I still find the chorus melodically hokey with the strings and twang, but it has grown on me somewhat.
The rest of the record is simply incredible, with each song it's own little unforgettable tale within some larger interpersonal epic. I was very very close to placing this atop the list, no joke. Looking back on everything Wilco has recorded since, this might be the record that best represents what they're all about. It has the right amount of everything, and this is what they've shown themselves to be for the most part. A damn good syllabus I'd say.
#1. Yankee Hotel Foxtrot (2002)
Hoo boy. Where to start. There's a lot you can say about this record.
Yankee Hotel was actually completed in 2001 but Reprise Records refused to release it (really). After a lot of deliberation (and wanting to avoid bad publicity) the label gave the band the rights to the album without charge (shocking I know) and so Wilco self-released it online until they officially switched over to Nonesuch for a wider-scale retail distribution (their next few releases were on Nonesuch until Wilco founded their own label dBpm in the early 2010s).
The sessions for YHF were, uh... tumultuous. Tweedy had performed a few shows with noted producer and Sonic Youth collaborator Jim O'Rourke, and through O'Rourke was introduced to drummer Glenn Kotche. When Ken Coomer, who had been Wilco's drummer on the first three releases, was considered "too inflexible" for these new songs, the band replaced him with Kotche (who is still on the sticks with them to this day). O'Rourke was also brought in to help with mixing, which conflicted with multi-instrumentalist Jay Bennett who had been such a key contributor to the sound of summerteeth. Once the recordings were done, Bennett was likewise dismissed from the band and was rather contentious about his credited contributions on Yankee Hotel Foxtrot for the remainder of his life (he tragically passed away in 2009).
This particular era of Wilco is a miracle when you think about it. You've got band members in flux and arguing about creative direction, a record company that won't release your record, and your lead songwriter/singer suffering constant migraines to fuel a prescription pill addiction. How this whole thing avoided completely sinking into the sea is unbelievable... and thank goodness it didn't because holy mercy. To my ears this is still one of the greatest records released in the past 25 years, Top Three even.
It has aged without cracks or wrinkles. The bizarre time signatures, the simple guitar dissonance, the hollow haunting echoes, the emotional moments where everything is falling apart and then somehow the egg is put back together again. Where summerteeth was a ride through a variety of styles and pop experiments, Yankee Hotel Foxtrot alternates and explores deeply between two gears of faster paced pop-rock and bleak soundscapes, with Tweedy's soul searching words underlying either one. The two gears bleed together in such a way that anything dividing them is blurred by the unstoppable momentum of the album.
The pacing of the record perfectly keeps you off balance, even after several listens when you know what to expect. Flowing from the fever-breaking "I Am Trying To Break Your Heart" into the adorable self-doubt pop (it is Tweedy after all) of "Kamera", into the hollowed out haunting acoustic confessional of "Radio Cure", into another light tune musically with sneakily dark lyrics ("you have to learn how to die, if you wanna be alive") in "War on War" and it goes on. We're not even halfway through this yet, where "Ashes of American Flags" plays out like an scene in the aftermath of a bomb going off and you're standing in the rubble in a cloud of dust.
I wouldn't say Yankee is the album I'd recommend to somebody interested in getting into Wilco, at least depending on their taste. It's their best album, yeah... but not the most accessible. It's experimental rock or art-rock or however you want to define it, filled with odd melodic turns, long moments of distorted unmusical sound, and it's definitely not a happy listen beyond the second half trio of "Heavy Metal Drummer" to "I'm The Man Who Loves You" to "Pot Kettle Black", the middle track really being the one song on the record somewhat out of place among the rest.
There's such a depth to these songs, little touches and musical flourishes hidden in the background in both the ambient moments and the more straightforward pop song ones. The harmony of this work between such opposite themes is astounding: intimate warmth holding distant coldness so tightly, the external/internal duality of "Radio Cure" for instance when Tweedy sings "Cheer up, honey I hope you can/There is something, wrong with me", or just "Reservations" as an entire song.
It's an intense realness to Yankee Hotel Foxtrot that I think makes it such a lasting and brilliant musical work. Such like life, the carefree moments can have lingering doubts, the darkest ones the tiniest beam of hopeful light. Bleak but not defeated, joyous but not naive. Conceptually, musically and sonically this is a work of genius and one of the greatest albums recorded in the modern era.
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In researching this piece I've heard multiple ideas that Wilco are the "American Radiohead". I don't agree with this: Radiohead are far more consistent in their discography and their changes in sound are far wilder and pronounced. That said... Wilco is pretty damn good and while most of their output in the last 12ish years has been underwhelming (unlike Radiohead who have barely released anything) as a band they remain an impressive live force. There's a reason I put live videos underneath their top albums within this ranking.
They're a band I've seen live twice, both at the same venue although the
second time I was on the clock and so couldn't give them my full
attention beyond a twenty minute break I used to sneak over and watch
the show. Both concerts were good but especially the first one: while
arguably under-utilized in the studio for Wilco, Nels Cline is just an
incredible guitar player and they really unleash him for the live show. You
haven't heard "Impossible Germany" until you see Cline work it out on
stage in person... chills, man. A very tight live band and set-list wise they do like to jump around the catalogue, even if the darker material from their earlier era is played with considerably less dourness.
I'd also be remiss not to mention that Jeff Tweedy has written a few books (most of them recently) about the creative process of writing songs and particular music that changed his perspective. I haven't read them (yet) but I'd sure like to know how the hell he came up with "take off your bandaid 'cause I don't believe in touchdowns". That's an all-timer in the 'what are you talking about?' department.
All of this considered... Wilco is an awesome band continuing to do awesome things. Truly unique, interesting and inventive.
Another Tuesday... a one hundredth Taste! When I first started this little series in early 2021, mostly out of needing something to do during pandemic boredom and loneliness... I certainly did not envision this thing making it all the way to 100 episodes.
There were some hiatuses along the way (and certainly some meals so bad to make me question the wisdom of doing this *cough* Wing Machine) but here we are! Without a doubt this weekly review series would never have made it this far without the encouragement and support of all of you, dear readers, and so my endless thanks to everyone.
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It is wild to think it took me a century number of reviews to finally get around to Taco Bell, which is kind of a famous one! I mean, we've done A&W alone over half a dozen times...or McDonald's at least four (and I hate McDonald's!)
If you're somebody of my vintage, growing up in the mid-late 1990s, you will definitely remember the marketing sensation that Taco Bell became for a while. The talking chihuahua with the catchphrase "yo quiero Taco Bell!" (translating as "I want" Taco Bell, fairly obviously). Looking back now... yeah giving the dog a stereotypical Mexican accent was a pretty rough look (several Hispanic advocacy groups deemed it extremely insensitive at the time and called for boycotts).
Despite that perhaps being Taco Bell's peak in the public consciousness (at least until we enter the future of Demolition Man and all restaurants are Taco Bell)... Taco Bell actually dates back to the early 1960s. Restaurateur Glen Bell (yep, that's where the 'Bell' in Taco Bell is from) had operated a variety of food stands in San Bernadino and Lynwood, California, and upon seeing the popularity of a nearby taco restaurant decided to shift into that crunchy lane. After a few different concepts named Taco Tia and El Taco (the former of which had the eventual founder of the Wienerschnitzel brand, John Galardi, as a business partner) the first actual Taco Bell restaurant opened its doors in Downey, a south-east part of Los Angeles, in 1962. Soon afterwards Bell (Glen not 'Taco') franchised the brand, it grew considerably, and in 1978 he sold it to Pepsi for a cool 125 million in stock options.
There isn't an abundance of Taco Bells in Toronto (in fact their Canadian division has been closing stores recently) and it's really just one now long, long gone that stands out to me the most... as my early teens were my personal Taco Bell heyday. I attended Jesse Ketchum for junior high and later Jarvis Collegiate for higher high, which are both very close to Yonge and Bloor... and there used to be a Taco Bell/KFC hybrid just a block south of Bloor on the west side of Yonge. Cheap tacos and fries covered in stuff were a tasty treat for this teenager without any real source of income, and I do recall many lunchtime visits chomping away on those crumbling messy beef-filled shells.
Fast forward about... twenty years? Good grief. I completely stopped going to Taco Bell not for any specific reason: maybe because there wasn't one nearby, or that my tastes in food changed (*cough* improved *cough*) or that these types of tacos are so ridiculously easy and cheap to make at home... all legitimate reasons. I do recall one time, think I was about twenty, going to Tacos El Asador in their old location and being confused why their tacos were being served flat on this soft, un-fried tortilla thing. Ah the ignorance of youth...
As mentioned before (possibly this review, one of my weirder ones) almost ten years ago I briefly worked at La Carnita Leslieville, which was a fucking nightmare... but their tacos were extremely good I will concede. Getting to eat those during my semi-brief employment (still a fucking nightmare) really opened my eyes to what tacos could be: much like a pizza (come on, you thought I wouldn't find a way to mention pizza in the 100th episode?) there's an empty canvas wherein you can add and create almost anything within that basic structure.
This is my (typically) roundabout way of explaining my gradually gained affinity and respect for a good taco, and as such my genuine curiousity and interest in reviewing Taco Bell for this. This is one I've been considering for a while and I remember it being good... ish? Good in 2003 terms? I was not kidding when I say it'd probably been two decades since I had it.
While for an east-ender like me, the Taco Bell in College Park or the one up at Ellesmere and Birchmount may have been closer... I didn't want to go to a food court and I definitely didn't want to go all the way up to whatever the hell is up there, so College and Spadina it was.
Entering the inside was a trip: they have these self-ordering screens that I imagine are commonplace in fast food joints now (despite these reviews I honestly rarely eat fast food stuff otherwise). The interior is sleek, standardized generic tile and seating... nothing garnish or bold to spark the imagination. Combined with the impersonal ordering, there is something very procedural about all this.
Going in I knew I was getting a few things to sample and one of them had to be the Fries Supreme, such a delights in the days of my voice cracking. They had some kind of 'Cantina Chicken' feature, so I ordered the crispy taco of that, along with a Cheesy Beef Gordita Crunch and a Doritos Locos Beef Taco. Man, these are some punchy names...
I started with the cantina chicken one because, as you can see it was totally falling apart!
There isn't much to say here. The chicken is... odd. Extremely loose, like a minced type texture, and while the flavour resembles that classic juiciness of the bird it is fleeting and empty. Not much seasoning or flair, it's really the heaviness of the cheese and whatever creamy sauce is in here that dominates the taste.
Strange, strange taco... with just cheese and meat filling it's like what I had at Dirty Birrias (I wasn't in love with those either but at least they had some zing). No lettuce or tomato or onion or cilantro either (okay fair you're not finding cilantro at a freaking Taco Bell)... it's really just the creamy chicken with a bunch of cheese... which can work in principle but really does not work here. Comfortably the worst of the four items. Meh and bleh.
Into Door #2, the Cheesy Beef Gordita Crunch. This was the priciest one of the quartet, and damned if I know why. It's really just their regular beef taco with an extra pita-like wrapping around it, plus a sauce! Hey, at least it's far more interesting than that chicken "thing".
Texture-wise, this works a lot better than I thought it would. The soft exterior with the crunchy shell within is a nice dynamic, even if this particular exterior would probably work better with some hummus instead. Problem is, there is just so much of these two outer layers in every bite that the contents within have little chance to ring through. You barely get any presence of the beef filling, or the cheese (both of which are in the freaking name)... hell even the "Crunch" aspect is suffocated by this flaky uncooked pita.
What is a 'gordita' you may ask? (I sure did). Via my trademark Lazy Research, it is typically a fried corn pocket (similar to an empanada but that's flour instead of corn usually) filled with cheese and meat... although a gordita can be baked as well. So basically... I don't know what the hell this item from Taco Bell is but seeing as this outermost layer is neither fried or baked, and definitely isn't corn nor does it completely enclose the contents within... it sure as hell is not a gordita.
Of course, this is the same chain that for a time had a commercial promoting their "Carne Asada Beef" special... which essentially translates as 'beef grilled beef' or 'grilled beef beef'. Pick whichever you think is funnier.
We're really not doing too well here... how about the one item I was most excited to finally get reacquainted with?
Ah the Fries Supreme... reigning supreme among the realm of fries. I loved this stuff well before I even discovered poutine for crying out loud. As a pre-teen it was like a revelation: "you can put other delicious stuff and sauces on fries??? Whoa!"
Normally the Fries Supreme comes with the ground taco beef and perhaps in retrospect that might've been the more authentic choice, but I was curious about their steak and so upgraded to that for an extra dollar. It probably wouldn't have made much of a difference, honestly. I know this is happening essentially everywhere, and it has been two decades and my memory of being a sixteen year old was thousands of drinks ago... but I swear the portion used to be larger. To be fair, I was likewise shocked to see this was still less than five bucks and so considering that... not bad?
Not bad is the highest praise I can genuinely give here. I like all of these elements: fried potatoes, sour cream, cheese sauce, chunks of steak and diced tomatoes... that all still works conceptually (just missing green onions).
Quality-wise? It's... edible. On the lesser side of "okay". The fries aren't great, a lot like Burger King fries strangely enough (not salty at all or crispy)... the sour cream is lukewarm (which always makes me nervous) diced tomatoes taste like diced tomatoes so that's fine, and the cheese is your standard 7/11 nacho cheese sauce which is likewise also fine when you know what to expect. I have a love/hate relationship with that gloopy type nacho cheese sauce: in the right situation it can be an excellent addition and or dip, but I would never ever eat the stuff on a regular basis.
Which brings us to the steak! Yeah I dunno... for a steak so obviously well-done (at least medium-well) the consistency of the cook and it's lack of chewiness is suspicious. I've slow-cooked non-fatty beef many times and even at medium-well within it's own juices you get some resemblance of toughness. Taste-wise, there is a steak flavour, slightly peppery and quite tender... like these Fries Supreme as a whole it's entirely okay I just don't trust it.
Sigh. I pretty much knew coming into this that having a Fries Supreme for the first time in my adult life would be a let down, and it is... but nothing can really live up to that perspective of precious youthful innocence though.
This surely wasn't horrible, which I am glad about. In 100 Tuesday reviews I've encountered many awful things and this is far from that. Objectively, there is just such a plasticy-like flavour to all of this that lacks any secondary oomph to allow a taste to linger. You just consume it until it's gone. Not exactly cheap in flavour (although it is) rather it's simply bland and not memorable.
Quick note on their hot sauce (in the packets you see above): I got the spiciest "Fire" option, and while it (to me) wasn't anything close to resembling genuine heat (the "fire" was put out so quickly the firefighters had time to hit the bar afterwards) I kind of liked this as just a sauce. Bit of a ketchup meets BBQ meets Tabasco kind of thing, a smokey tang with a vinegar-like sting to it. I actually took some of them home and poured it on my own homemade tacos. Decent.
And now, don't worry I saved the best for last. The only thing of these four items I'd remotely consider paying money for again. The Doritos Locos Taco!
Full disclosure: I love Doritos. I love almost all chips in general (maybe episode #200 I'll review every well known chip brand and flavour there is... that would be lined up for two years from now but give me two weeks it'll be done. I freaking love chips).
Right, back on subject. Taco Bell has had this Doritos taco floating around for a while and it always intrigued me. Doritos are nacho corn chips after all and the transition/innovation into a crunchy taco shell is obvious. I've even attempted to make Dorito nachos at home with mixed success (there must be some finishing oil or chemical in them because they tend to burn quicker than normal tortilla chips).
Basically, this is your standard Taco Bell crunchy beef taco, with a Doritos shell. First chomp in... oh crud it's the Nacho Cheese flavour... certainly the most popular Dorito and by far my least favourite one. Couldn't have a Cool Ranch option? Or Jalapeno Cheddar? Regardless, you get a lot of that powdery vibrant Dorito flavour (even the dust caking on your fingers) and it brings a brightness (as artificial as it may taste) to an otherwise very ordinary beef taco. Combined with a decent amount of pre-shredded lettuce and cheese... this was moderately enjoyable and tasty.
I haven't talked much about Taco Bell's ground beef, essentially the load barring poster of this whole enterprise, so here goes. The beef itself is serviceable, with a fatty loose texture that settles well within the taco shells. The flavour is a lot like a very finely ground non-lean beef that would fit well in a greasier kind of chili, just without the seasonings and spices (the flavour-part).
Overall. Would I recommend Taco Bel-GAWD, of course not.
This is not good food, it's about as authentically Mexican/Latin cuisine as a sushi roll, and despite finishing those four items in one sitting I was still unnaturally hungry. I considered trying one of their crunch wraps as an encore but then realized that would've meant I spent thirty freaking bucks on Taco Bell and I respect money far too much to do that to it.
My many criticisms aside, I do see an appeal as a guilty pleasure. Unlike the widespread devotion towards McDonald's which I will never understand... Taco Bell has some no frills corny charm to it. It's quite cheap (not 100 tacos for 100 dollars cheap and I sure could go for that right about now) and they have a bunch of weird menu items that are certainly inventive if nothing else...
I think I'm just not Taco Bell's target audience. Maybe it was this location's close proximity to the University of Toronto but everyone else who walked in (that wasn't a delivery man) was easily between the ages of sixteen and nineteen. And that's it right there, my Taco Bell history as well. When you're still a kid or a young adult, this stuff is gold. You get older, your tastes evolve and change, you're (hopefully) exposed to higher levels of quality... and you inevitably leave some things behind.
Maybe you're of a similar age as me and you still like Taco Bell, and I'm sure many of you are... maybe you like it for nostalgia or it's simplicity or there's just something about it that does it for you. You don't have to listen to my conclusions, I'm a snob reviewing stuff on the internet!*
*Okay, actually do listen and read my work please, because... I am a snob.
Taco Bell isn't horrible. I'd much rather go there than Burger King or McDonald's or Wing Machine or Pizza Pizza... it is genuinely far better than those grotesque creatures pedaling flashy attempts at sustenance. I do however implore you to try some of Toronto's superior taco options instead: Seven Lives, Holi Taco, King Taco... Gus Tacos are also quality. But if you're in a pinch and you just want to know what you're getting, something simple and familiar... Taco Bell has that reliable baseline floor, emphasis on floor...
...but yeah seriously it is not very good no thank you.
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Speaking of Seven Lives...
My Taco Bell Experience left me so mysteriously hungry and vaguely unfulfilled that I wandered into Kensington Market in hopes of something to alleviate this physical melancholy (or at the very least to find some new bandanas or cheap jerseys).
Neither of those apparel goals were realized but as it was only six o'clock and most restaurants in the market were open... yeah Taco Bell was legitimately so unsatisfying I actually went to another taco place to get a different taste in my mouth. This is real, I did this.
Seven Lives! A taqueria that appears very high on basically every 'Best Taco In Toronto' list. I had planned to do a full proper review of Seven Lives... then upon going in and seeing each taco was about 8-9 bucks... yeah I'm not made of airports! That's a hell of a lot for a single freaking taco...
...even if they are quite large and loaded with the good stuff. This is their pollo asado taco ("asado" means grilled... for somebody who has a close friend who speaks fluent Spanish I am Googling far too many of these words).
Kind of hard to judge this subjectively when you ate freaking Taco Bell less than an hour earlier... but I can say this is a tasty messy taco that hits the mark. I found the chicken chunks a bit over grilled, a charred taste which dominates a lot of the flavour... but it is still delicious enough where you pop the little bits that fall out into your mouth lest they be forgotten. Plenty of tenderness and flavour.
The salsa on top is also a prominent factor, with it's vivid fresh tomatoey sharpness, occasional onion bit and a bit of guacamole acting like a glue keeping them together (you don't get much of the avocado taste). Also nice: the tortillas themselves! A big taste of corn, not too sweet but it really fills up the mouth and lingers throughout every bite. Quite pleasant.
Overall! I was quite impressed and am curious to try some more of what they offer, perhaps a proper full length review will happen some day instead of this little bite-sized one. Until then, this was a pretty positive first impression and definitely a nice immediate jolt to the palette after my Taco Bell experience. Plus, they have this:
A fine collection of pennants, featuring one of my favourite bands? Bonus points indeed, Seven Lives. Well played.
Shaken, Not Stirred
A very random fact about me: I've seen every single James Bond film! Okay, that's not completely true... there are three I haven't seen (Quantum of Solace, Spectre and No Time To Die).
While I probably lean "Sean Connery is the best Bond" camp, it's fun how every actor added something unique to the role. Connery the irresistible charm and wit, Lazenby the... uh... um... Moore the extreme camp, Dalton the most like an actual dangerous killer spy, Brosnan a little it of everything and Daniel Craig the most humanized, flaws and all.
Anyhow, appealing to my love of ranking things... here's a ranking of all the Bond movies! I think it's pretty fair, although so many of those Roger Moore ones blend together I can barely tell them apart.
That's it that's all for this week! Thank you all again for reading, whether you've been onboard since the first one or are just hopping on now at the centennial episode. We've got plenty more great places to try, maybe some not so great ones, and until then... stay warm, stay safe and most of all don't spill that mustard.
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