This is where a pun on the word TAG would go.

This blog is allegedly about food, and not relationships. If you're looking for a relationship blog, check out Kristen's newest addition to her writing portfolio, Kristen's Fishing Trip. (I don't know if that's supposed to be a secret blog or not. Either way, it's a riot and required reading in my house. [And cubicle. And on the couches of anyone with a sense of humor.])

Therefore, I will only briefly mention that Sara and I went to TAG on Saturday night, and that it was sort of a big deal, because one of us met my mother. And seeing as how I lived under the same roof as my mom for 18 years, it probably wasn't me who was meeting her for the first time. Although we were strangers for the better part of my teens.

When you're deciding on a restaurant in a situation like this, you can go one of two ways: Slum it, pick Village Inn, and hope the food makes everyone decide to call it an early night - or you can pick a fancy restaurant and hope the strong drinks (fingers crossed) make it bearable.

So, very serious things aside. TAG is famous 'round these parts for making their own tonic water. I don't drink many gin and tonics these days, because they get me into the Villegas version of "trouble." Needless to say, I've had my fair share of gin and tonics. And the gin and tonic at TAG is really good stuff. Even though quinine can be nasty stuff, it's magical when included in homemade tonic made with Cinchona bark. By the way, I just earned my two-wikipedia-links-in-one-sentence award.

So we started with a salad (come on, Mom. Live a little.) and two appetizers - the Hiramasa and the Duck confit sope cakes. The sope cakes were very good. They sat on a bed of guacamole and were savory, warm and flavorful. The winner of round one, though, was the Hiramasa - which was pan-seared, had a small amount of truffle oil drizzled on top with and a little myoga.

And, oh yeah, a slice of jalapeno and pop rocks on top. What started as a "What's sizzling?" thought in my head led eventually to, "What's pink on my plate, and doesn't smell like roe?" And eventually ended in my saying out loud, "Holy God, those are pop rocks." Very creative, Troy Guard. Cheeky monky. It was a great way to start this experience.

Main course time. My mother had the safe choice, which was cooked extremely well and still delectable: Caramelized sea scallops. She reported them to be "perfect."

Tamarind mustard braised short ribs was the entree du jour for Sara. Pear, yuzu (or some citrusy fruit) the rib...a great plate, full of balanced flavor. The citrus did it well, I thought. And I never met mustard that I didn't like. Tamarind mustard should be required on all hot dogs. Hear that, Montforts?

No fork needed, although for the sake of appearances, she kept her butter knife on the plate. Polite company apparently uses a knife to cut ALL meat, even when it's not necessary.

And I had Szechuan Colorado Lamb, with couscous and Dragon Sauce...a touch spicy, but in a good way. Lamb is one of those meats that needs another flavor to contrast with when prepared correctly. (And it's uneatable when cooked wrong.) The Szechuan influence is a standard choice, but executed correctly here. The couscous is a welcome addition of an entirely different texture.

I have my problems with Lodo eateries, and especially Larimer Square restaurants. We were seated right next to the door, which wasn't fun. But someone has to sit there, so oh well.

But TAG is a nice place to go, even if it is a little pricey, and can sometimes come off more about appearances than food. Which is not a problem, because, let's face it, I'm can be sort of about appearances. All of this coming from a guy who uses the word "classy" more than Donald Trump.

The Joy of In-N-Out

and the good news that's it is moving eastward into cold places. This picture was captured by my brother last week in Salt Lake City, Utah.

An outstanding meal at Six89

Saturday night, I made the 160 mile trek from my front door in beautiful downtown Denver to devastatingly charming Glenwood Springs on Saturday night. Reservations were made, nice clothes cleaned and pressed, personal grooming attended to, drive made.

Six89 (www.six89.com) seems to be a restaurant that most people agree is worth the trek to Carbondale from Glenwood Springs, or further south, Aspen. I'm a fan of crowdsourcing - and the people on Yelp give this place a full five star rating. Mission accomplished.

So Sara (yep, Sara of EatFace fame) and I sit down to eat, and the waiter brings us a couple of Six89's version of fried pickles - except these are pickle chips which have magically somehow remained cool on the inside as a pickle should be, and crispy fried on the outside. They're good. Damn good, especially for what is generally considered bar food.

I have a scotch. She has a glass of Pinot Noir. We exchange pleasantries about the pickles. She smiles. About halfway through her glass of wine, we order dinner. "You may have to drive back," she informs me. I discuss scotch, and she very graciously nods her way through that portion of the conversation, even though my material is about as interesting as watching Guy Fieri sample the food of some ethnic minority. (WOW, THAT'S REALLY GOOD.)

We didn't wait long for our food to come out, and that was after the waiter had informed us that they were really busy.

An aside about our waiter: if you enjoy eating something that one of us has ordered, do tell. We can discuss. But don't say that it's your favorite thing on the menu. Because that means that the thing the other person has ordered is not as good, in your eyes. And nobody wants that. Other than that, our waiter was a stand-up guy, was extremely knowledgeable and just the right amount of attentive.

We both had decided on the hamachi for starters - and we were not disappointed. A lot of times, fish this far inland is hit or miss - but it was fresh, and topped with a really light jalapeno sauce and homemade thin crunchy tortilla strips that gave it some much needed texture. I ate mine quickly, and she, being a lady, took her time with it. So I stared longingly at her plate. Don't think she caught me.

Main courses came quickly thereafter, and that's a definite positive. Hers: Grit and rabbit cakes, braised in milk, in a tomato-based sauce. Mine: BBQ Pork in a pear and melted cabbage sauce with pieces of pear. Both dishes were meticulously crafted, you could tell. Presentation was great, and flavor was - well - outstanding.

Outstanding is not a phrase that I use a lot on this blog. Outstanding is not a phrase I use on ANY blog. But the food at Six89 is outstanding.

Her food was delicious and had an interesting texture because of the grits ("I love it when they call grits, grits," Sara said.).

My pork was tender, flavorful and the pear, which I thought would not go well with pork, actually was what pulled the entire plate together.

Delicious, local, and the host wears a bow tie, which Sara was particularly impressed with.

I'm particularly impressed with a lot of things about Six89. It's in an older style house, and the ambiance reflects that. Huge wine selection, a varied menu that has something for everyone and it's not particularly crowded at all, which you can bet is not going to be the case forever.

That'll do, pig. That'll do.

Tonight I made a new best friend.

His name is barbacoa.

Let me explain. I've lived in this valley off and on for 21 years of my life. I was here before Carbondale was trendy. Before we had a Target. Before you couldn't find a one-bedroom apartment for less than $1500.

But before all of that, and before me, there was probably a carniceria.

What a shame that it took me such a long time to figure out where one was: 15 minutes away, in Carbondale, by the liquor store and the Family Dollar and by a place that, I guess, installs woodburning stoves. In between all those things is a little bit of perfect. There are three bowls on the plastic picnic tables: onions, limes, cilantro. There are three bottles of salsa (chipotle, green-hot and really hot). There are sodas in glass bottles. There are chicharrones and menudo in glass cases. You can buy a pig head for $20. This is a real butcher shop that happens to have a menu, and happens to make the best tacos I've ever had in my life.

Fresh meat is good meat. I'm a firm believer in that. I don't know how much of it is local, but all of it is hand-cut. And if it looks that good in the case, it's roughly 12473 times better cooked. I got two barbacoa tacos with fresh avocado. My dad got a carne asada burrito.

Both came on fresh tortillas (me: corn. him: flour). I love pork so much I am considering going all Top-Chef-Kevin and getting a pig tattooed on me, and this pork did not disappoint. Slightly sweet/spicy barbecue...amazing. And only $1.60 per taco. Suck it, Chipotle.

Dad's burrito: I think it weighed maybe 6 lbs. And 5 lbs. of that was steak. The remaining pound of burrito was homemade refried beans, onions, avocado, cilantro, salsa verde and queso fresco. Note that not one of those ingredients is rice. And then note that the burrito costs $6.50. Suck it, Qdoba.

So, basically, my plan is to go back until I've tried everything. Except maybe the menudo. You can choose from upward of seven meats, combined into magical creations including tacos, burritos and quesadillas. I'm going to try all of them. Except maybe the tripe. You can also get about eight different kinds of tortas and a lot of things I couldn't read because I don't read Spanish (taking French in high school finally reveals its downfall).

And extra plus: there's a tortillaria next door, so you can pick up some delicious souvenirs. And who doesn't love eating under a collection of giant pinatas?

A short postscript about Cheetos: Here at Eatface, we have determined through extensive research that crunchy Cheetos are texturally a meal unto themselves, while puffy Cheetos are best enjoyed with a robust sandwich. This, of course, is a matter of personal preference. Not a matter of personal preference: Cheetos are the best snack food ever, and I'm not ashamed to say that. Own your love of artificially-orange food. Your life will be better for it.

Chowing in Chicago

Behold a gallery of Zach eating, with super sleuth notes.

Date/Time: Nov 11th, Mid Evening Time
Location: De Cero
Deliciousness Consumed: Duck Enchiladas (note: not on menu)

Date/Time: Nov 12th, 6:30 PM

Location: Flattop
Deliciousness Consumed: Various mixtures of meats, fake meats, vegetables, noodles, rice and sauce. Approx. 3 bowls and numerous flat breads.

Time/Date: Nov. 13th, 10:50 AM
Location: Hot Doug's
Deliciousness Consumed: Alligator Hot Dog, Keira Knightly (firedog) and Cheese Fries


Also See Unaccompanied Food:

Spotted at De Cero
Possible Suspect: Taco collection: Mahi Mahi Special, Avocado, Flank Steak, Duck
Most Likely to be Eaten Again: Flank Steak, Duck
Suspected Accomplice: Hibiscus Margarita

Spotted at: Hot Doug's
Possible Suspects: BLT Hot Dog with Avocado Aoili and Mini Bagel Dogs with Tots
Observed Suspicious Activity: Hot Dog actually made with bacon


Private Eye Conclusions:

~De Cero is a delicious hot spot of activity. Margaritas are strong, duck is luscious and tortillas are freshly homemade.
~Long Line at Hot Doug's can only be avoided by arriving before opening time (approx 30 min).
~Mixing too many flavors at Flattop can lead to flavor overload and taste-bud exhaustion.

You shuffle with your head down

I've always found DC restaurants to be a lot like their transient population - always a little bit in a hurry, a little bit like the congressional staffer at 5 p.m., and like the politicians and their aides that infest it, they talk a big game with little substance. You shuffle with your head down, slowly talking into your phone and you end up eating what's in front of you.

It's pretty much the same every place you go. My last trip to DC was 2 1/2 months ago for my brother's wedding. There's a lot to like (but not love) at some places, and in other places, not so much. DC has a burgeoning young population - but again, if you ask me, they don't have really good taste. (With the obvious exceptions of my brother and my sister-in-law, who are great hosts, and even better people to put up with my constant complaining and pretentious way of analyzing food.)

Anywho, it doesn't take much to impress someone who is a starry-eyed aide for a congressperson - they're already impressed by the egomaniacal rantings of political sociopaths.

Anyway, this was a quick trip, and we hit two restaurants during our time. We hit a third in Fado, which I don't consider a restaurant as much as a chain bar, in the style of Baker Street or Cheers. If you've eaten at one Fado, you've eaten at them all. I assume readers of this blog like food or drink, and will have been to one in their lifetime. My experience at Fado is: Dark, chainy, and Smithwick's. That experience has been had a million times by a million people around the country.

Friday night, we went to a place called Matchbox. People seem to like this place, and I guess for DC fare, it stands out amongst the places that don't have to try so hard. One gripe I have is the cover of the menu is made out of wood. Carved into it, the Matchbox logo.

I guess when I see stuff like that, I expect a more business casual atmosphere, which this place (in the middle of Eastern Market, yuppie central) did not have. It kind of seemed like it wanted to go that way, but just can't quite pull itself up like an Italian restaurant that, as its owner, is trying to escape its immigrant past.

Beer: My server seemed to think "I don't know" was a good option when I asked her to recommend a beer on tap. Alright. Either way, she (eventually) suggested Allagash White, an unfiltered witbeer. Allagash is a Maine brewery, and we don't get a lot of that in Denver. I liked it, kind of pale, kind of fruity, very spicy for a wit. Good head, good lace. Not strong, very drinkable and actually went really well for the meal I ordered.

Everything about this place screams "For God's sake, don't order a steak! Please, order the sliders! THEY'VE GOT ONION STRAWS!"

So the clientele, the menu, the server - I really wanted their sliders to be bad so I could write a bad review all thew way around. But I'm sad to report - they were actually very good. It could do with less onion straws, but they were cooked exactly how I ordered them, the buns were lightly buttered underneath the hood, and the gorgonzola on top was just enough.

Damn you, Matchbox. Your sliders got me. Now I have to suggest you.

(Aside: Eastern Market has a wide assortment of restaurants. I've been to 3 now, and my favorite is still Las Placitas, owned and operated by Salvadorians. Any place that bills its weekly flea market as having vendors "from 5 continents" might be a little bit pretentious. I mean, obviously they have people coming from Africa EVERY WEEK to sell their wares to DC residents. That's not that far to go to sell a few prints or handwoven caps.)

On the day I left, we had brunch at a place called Hawk and Dove on Capitol Hill.

Now this is my speed - divey, but not quite dangerous. I had a sausage and cheddar cheese omelet. Aside from being an 8-egg omelet as opposed to the more standard 3-egg, their coffee was decent, their homefries greasy enough. But I didn't like the Bloody Mary (WAY too much pepper) and that's a dealbreaker for me.

Allegedly, Hawk and Dove's food is not its strong point, and I have to agree. Seems like it might be an okay place to drink. I've been to worse places here in Denver.

Starting to look like I'm going to be coming to DC a bit more in the next year or two. I better start finding better places to eat, or this town is going to get real old, real fast.

Quick List: Chicago

Things I did in Chicago that you should too:

1. Take the train alone, feel accomplished because you didn't get lost.
2. Walk into the Hilton on Michigan Ave. Act like you belong. Get free information from Concierge.
3. Wear a scarf.
4. Take a Bus Tour! (I will always recommend bus tours).
5. Answer bus tour guide's questions, he becomes less disgruntle this way.
6. Go to the Art Institute.
7. Understand that the video-art-clown-room is supposed to make you feel uncomfortable it is the point of it.
8. Make fun of clown room with people from Michigan.
9. See a Show at Second City.
10. Get a little buzzed on $9 spiked coffees at Second City.
11. Make nice with table mates at Second City, get shots bought for you.
12. Hug your friend goodbye and say "thank you."

Bill O'Reilly would be proud

So I work in Arvada currently, and there's a place we go to fairly often for lunch, although, I'm not really sure why.

This place is called The Sultan Grill, and I'm convinced that it is the only Middle Eastern food in a 5 mile radius. I've had a few different things here, and I'm always surprised that the place isn't a little bit more busy.

Yelp denotes it as another one of those "3 1/2 star" places. The best way to describe 3 1/2 star places are "tweeners." In basketball, it's drafting a guy who could go either way - he could be a star or a bust. In west Arvada, a tweener is just as hit or miss - somedays, it's good. Somedays, not so much.

Today, it was good.

I usually order the Gyros Sandwich combo, which includes a gyro, french fries and a drink for $7.25. Sometimes the meat is a little too greasy, and sometimes the tomatoes are a little squishy, but for $7.25, it's better than fast food. And it's a nice change of pace from regular office lunch spots like Chipotle or Qdoba.

Try the hummus - it's not exactly what I think of when I think hummus, but it's tons better than the store-bought kind. And they give you plenty of pita to go along with it when you order it as an appetizer.

For my money, though, the Falafel is what this place has going for it. You don't get good falafel like this at a lot of places in Denver (unless you're Bill O'Reilly, that is).

So what? I have a thing for chickpeas.

Channel the writing skills of Peggy Hill: If you're ever in the vast desert of Arvada and are looking for a place to eat, take a stop at this oasis.

What to Do In Chicago?

I will have a little solitary free time in Chicago next week and I feel like a historic home tour. Here are my options so far...

Glessner House Museum/Clarke House Combo Tour (leaning towards this one)

Frank Lloyd Wright's Fredrick C. Robbie House

however these completely non related attractions also look nice...

Shedd Aquarium

Lincoln Park Zoo

Adler Planetarium

I am open to other suggestions, of course. Help!

Snooze a Halloween, Noontime Review

Much has already been said, probably, about Snooze, long waits, exciting decor, hipsterly-typical spotty service and Sonny and Cher sing-a-longs.

Therefore, I will focus upon the magic that is a breakfast entree that does not feature eggs but isn't oatmeal or pancakes. Thank you God! I have only encountered a wonderful occurrence of this magnitude once before, deep in the mountains of Colorado, that epic tale is, however, for another time.

Back to the big city. The elusive entree for the person who loves eating out for breakfast but doesn't care much for eggs (less a fabulous omelet) is called The Snooze Spuds Deluxe. Official description: "choose two veggies and/or meats from below to compliment heaping portions of our hash browns, covered with melted cheddar, jack cheese & scallions" and the options list: uhm apparently not available for copy/paste. It hardly matters what the options are because I created the best combination possible, green chili and sausage patty.

It is severed in a small casserole dish, layered style, hash browns, scallions, cheese, chili and (chopped up!) sausage patty. The layering is my one complaint, even with a drippy veggie choice (yes green chili is a veggie, to me) by the end I was left with a bunch of good but lonely hash browns. Other than that, it was amazingly super. The Green chili was flavorful but not too spicy (remember spice wuss, here). The sausage was thoughtfully cut up. Hash browns were perfectly prepared, not slimy and not too crispy. I wish I could describe the taste explosion of fabulous that occurs when these ingredients are mixed together but I studied economics, so superfluous adjectives escape me, let's just say, it made my happiness quotient increase.

What's with the peas?

No seriously.

So I'm on a quest, a quest for tasty really cliche"Mexican" food in my neighborhood (that being Uptown/Capital Hill, Denver). I will never claim to be a good Mexican food critic. While I did eat amazing food in Mexico it didn't stop me from loving the taco/refried beans/rice combo platters upon my return. Also I am a giant wuss and my nose runs at the sight, yes the sight, of spicy food.

I have frequented Las Delicas in Uptown quite a few times and have never really been impressed.

Last night I gave a new place a try. Benny's on 7th and Grant. I ordered the Tamale Dinner (Two pork tamales smothered with chili verde, refried beans and rice). This is where the peas come in. You know I just don't understand why Spanish rice sometimes has peas in it. Granted I think peas are absolutely disgusting, in any form, but they look even worse, if possible, in that rice. I've never heard someone get rice without the peas and exclaim, "WTF, where are the peas?!" So, I don't think anyone would miss them, even if they are insane enough to like them. They look gross. Have they been frozen and heated up multiple times? Where do those odd dimples come from? Traumatic shipping? Too much botox? This is something I'll never get over and it transcends into other food types, see: fried rice. I will move on, unwillingly.

The tamales were fine. The refried beans were good, so refried that there was little hint of bean texture. I'm not saying that's classy but I am saying that's how I like it, liquid bean with cheese, yum. The bits of rice that I got while picking around the peas were fair as well. The best was the chili verde. I wanted more of it. I wanted to make a soup of chilie verde and refried bean liquid. I could die happy. Granted, the chili is probably too mild for the spicy fan but it did come with actual chunks of green chilies and I accidentally put one in my mouth and much to the embarrassment of my dinner companion had to spit it back out, that or suffer death by mouth burn. Luckily this guy didn't see me shaming my state like that as he walked inside. If I lived in California I could make some not so clever remark here like "I'll be back, to Benny's" but alas, perhaps I'll just ride my bike there again soon without any well known tag line.

This is only the food I admit to

So I just got back from a 12 day trip to the east coast - York PA, Baltimore, DC, Richmond VA. Below is what I came up with. You have to click on the facebook link, cause there's no way I'm redoing all that.

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2442146&id=10209802&ref=mf

Anyway, amidst all the wedding stuff in there are some really good restaurants. Coomb's was okay, but Las Placitas in Eastern Market in DC was really good. Full Kee in Chinatown was also good, if a little lacking in the ambiance and feel. Check it out.

Hats in the Highlands, I mean Ice Cream.

Hold on to your Hats!

I found something I like, in the Highlands (of Denver that is!). Yes, it's okay to gasp now.

Mmmmm Ice Cream. Bicycle rides to ice cream. Served out of a giant milk can. Served by people wearing silly paper hats of the ol' days. A discussion decided that people are just nicer when wearing those funny paper hats. Then I decided that anyone who has to take a court ordered anger management class should be forced to wear paper hats everywhere, I'd like to see someone being an ass in a hat like that, haha an asshat!

Anyway, it's called Little Man Ice Cream. It made me feel like I was doing something summer-y, perhaps on a boardwalk. The Cupcake ice cream was tasty as were the extra sprinkles. The summer night was lovely. The hats were the tops.

Cerveza Costa Rica

hello readers. (we have readers right?)

I'm planning to be your local beer and booze insider while traveling the globe. I like beer. no. i love beer. It is an art form and should be appreciated as so. Not as fizzy yellow crap you drank in undergrad. In fact, I'm breaking an agreement i made with my girlfriend to not talk about beer for 4 days to write this post.

That being said... La cerveza Costa Rica!

Upon my recent trip to Costa Rica, I was excited to find they have a rather impressive beer selection to offer. And it's cheap!

Don't think since we're in central america this is a kin to the beers of mexico that go great on a beach with a lime. These are serious beers, albeit all lagers.

The stand out champion and price of Costa Rican beer is definitely Imperial. It probably is even more accessible and visible in costa rica then any of the major breweries in america, and there fore i admittedly was turned off at first. Once I had one tho, i realized this was a large lager worth being proud of. Lucky for you, they recently sealed a deal to export to most of north america and australia. If you find yourself in a heavily latin area soon, definitely check it out. Plus, it looks cool.

From here Costa Rican beer gets a little.. less exciting. Pilsen (not pictured) is a lager that does seem to lend a little bit of spirit to the mexican beers mentioned above, and it kind of boring. The Bavarian brand has both a "premium" light lager, and a dark lager. However, if you were blindfolded folded, you'd have no idea which you were drinking, because they taste like nothing.

You'd think that beer that tastes like nothing would be pretty bad. Unfortunately it gets worse. The Rock Ice franchise goes above and beyond anything you ever thought beer should do. unfortunately, they shouldn't have. The Rock Ice flagship is a extremely bland and skunky lager that only seems good due to being the least of all evils. Rock Ice makes an "energy beer", however you have to be able to read japanesse to know this, because the label on the "energy beer" is in japanesse? This isn't sparks, this isn't malt liquor. It is really bad redbull, with a warm Old Style for a chaser. This will only give you energy because you were so grossed out you experienced an adrenaline rush. As bad as this sounds, it gets worse. Rock Ice makes a "lime beer". Again, this isn't what it seems. It's not a beer with lime, like miller chill. This is a beer that is supposed to taste like lime. An important side note right now, is to mention Costa rica has several different types of limes, and even their lime we consider standard here, is orange on the inside. That being said... this beer doesn't taste like any of them. This beer actually tastes like you swallowed a mouth full of sea water... The worst sea water you've ever had. STAY AWAY AT ALL COSTS!!

Another great canned beverage option for adult in Costa Rica, is a competitive market for pre mixed Rum and Cola. However, curiously enough, the two biggest brands are made by the same company. These would be Bamboo, and Cuba Libre. Based on packaging alone, one would suggest bamboo is for the kids (above 18 of course) and cuba libre is for old men (but this writer suggests not old men who went to vietnam, reasons to follow).

Bamboo is definitely the less impressive of the lot. sweet, syrupy, definitely much more soda, but with an after tastes that isn't quite rum, but you know burns a little. Suitable when in a pinch, but, definitely not my go to.

Cuba Libre on the other hand, is not fucking around. You can smell the rum from the first crack of the can. The mix is a little strong, but this actually tastes like a Rum and Cola... or as much as a canned pre mixed rum and cola can. But reader beware, I'm pretty sure they are using the original coke formula in this drink, if ya know what i mean. One night specifically, after a pretty lazy day around La Fortuna, we decided to grab dinner across the street. i ordered a single cuba libra with dinner, and by the end of dinner, I swore the room was spinning around me, and my perception of color was overly saturated. I guess for roughly $2 US, I shouldn't complain.

In all, i hope you find this useful, and are lucky enough to find one of these fine products in a store near you, or better yet take a trip to costa rica yourself. if you choose the later, you will be fortunate enough to discover the ever elusive (and gov't made) GUARO!

The Colorado Highway System Can Suck It.

I can say this because this is the second time this year I have been trapped on a highway this year and today it wasn't even snowing.

Time of Departure from Glenwood Springs, CO: approx. 5:30 pm

Planned Arrival: 8 PM, Downtown Denver

Time of Return to Glenwood Springs, CO: 11:00 pm

Time in car total: 5.5 Hours

Total distance traveled: 82 miles

Avg Miles per hour: 14.9

Route: Interstate 70

Area of Entrapment: Mile Marker 153 to 157, Eagle County, Colorado

Honestly, it's one thing if it's ski season and it's a Sunday afternoon/evening. Everyone knows that from November to April this traffic equation is always true:

Sunday evening + SUV + California license plates + precipitation = Sitting on I-70 for hours.
(Give or take precipitation) (Also SUV = pick up truck; California license plates = Texas license plates)

It comes as a surprise to me that apparently the equation can simply be reduced to:

Sunday evening = Sitting on I-70 for hours.

I know this is technically MY fault for not thinking to check the traffic on this perfectly sunny July day. After being unwillingly trapped in Eagle County, Colorado I can't help but feel a bit of a kinderance with Kobe Bryant's groupies so let's quit the victim blaming, deal?

There were many things that helped me through this nearly traumatic time and if you ever plan to travel along I-70 I suggest you bring these along:
cold leftover sesame chicken, 1 half a bottle of old water, music from the Knife, a paperback NY Times Best Selling Novel (My Sister's Keeper, was my goodie), a dying cell-phone (the dying helps the dramatic effect), a snide thing to think about every driver around you and this travel quote from modern-day philosopher Jimmy Buffett, "You can throw your luggage down, lose your cool and stomp around but there's nothing, nothing you can do."

But seriously 5+ hours? There has got to be a better method, perhaps a sign near the entrance to I-70, even a hand written one that reads "I wouldn't go this way, buddy!" would have been good enough for me.

And finally the photo that killed my phone battery, which also turned out to be much less dramatic than I had hoped it would be: