The Pleasure of Pouring-Your-Own (Part II): G-Spot Edition

Wednesday, January 13, 2010 | 0 Comment(s)

Seeing as I am currently down in the Caribbean, I would be remiss not to at least mention the tragedy unfolding in Haiti.  Just a few islands over, there is fear, destruction, and chaos.  My thoughts are definitely with those wrapped in this inhumane catastrophe, and I can only hope that as many people as possible are saved.  It is hard to reconcile a "things happen for a reason" point of view when a 7.1 earthquake happens in country marred by widespread poverty and shaky infrastructure.  Sigh.

My original post is being put on hold, and instead I am going to add an addendum to my earlier post RE: Larry's Landing.  If you recall, this is the local bar on St. John which allows you to pour your own drinks at the bar.  Awesome.  But, recently, I've found even more reasons to love it.  Read on.

Between the front bar and the back bar at Larry's lives a small "snack shack" type eatery open from 11am-2am (eat in or take away--you can even call and order ahead of time).  Those are my kind of hours.  Its name:  The G-Spot.  Awesome.  They have t-shirts that read: "The G-Spot, a great place to eat . . . if you can find it."  Awesome.  The G-Spot, in partnership with Larry's, provides patrons with affordable (increasingly sparse on the island) tasty food that is well above and beyond traditional "bar grub."  They've got Reubens and hotdogs ($3!) and other other delectables, but what I want to focus on is "The Big G."  Described as "just like a Big Mac," I was more than intrigued considering I haven't had fast food in over 10 years. 

Now, I don't not eat (eat that double negative) fast food because of the taste.  Quite frankly, the amount of chemistry that goes into fast food construction makes it almost impossible not to like the taste, considering it's practically genetically modified to suit your taste buds' needs.  My moral compass sometimes blows in the wind, but I just find no need to support corporations that: mistreat their employees, contribute to the obese-a-fication of a fatty America, and put poop in their food (read Fast Food Nation for an explination there).  Essentially, to me fast food is a 'no thank you' no brainer.  I'm not preachy about it, but i view fast food much like cigarette companys in that they are not looking out for the best interests of the exact population they are marketing too.  I'm not into that.

So, post that little foodie diatribe, let's go back to my enjoyment of the taste of fast food (back in the day).  I mean . . . yum.   And let me tell you.  The G-Spot's Big G tastes so much like a Big Mac that it actually crawls right up to my prostate and unloads such pleasure to my taste center that I go weak in the knees.  Two pattys (of real meat), the grilled onions, special sauce, lettuce, cheese.  They've got the 'flavor profile' spot on.  I have already had two of these heroes on poppy-seed buns, and I plan on having my 3rd before leaving this weekend.  The best part?  Three hours later when I'm back at home, I don't get colon blow that sounds like a canon being fired through the toilet at the rats below. 

If you're looking for my G-Spot, its somewhere at the intersection of pouring my own alcoholic beverage and eating a guilt-free facsimile of the fast food corp.'s crown jewel.  I'm never coming home.

ps. Meals served with your choose of potato salad, pasta salad, pretzels, chips, etc.  I chose Sun Chips. Yum.

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