THE ART OF BODYBUILDING
“I love the smell of bronzer in the morning.” –General George S. Patton
Clearly Ole Georgy Porgy was a fake baker and he wouldn’t be the last. Oh, before we begin, please spare me the Jersey shore jokes. At this point they’re low hanging fruit on the joke tree and I’m sure there is better material out there, especially considering if Snooki were to compete against these NPC physique ladies, they’d roll that loose pig off the stage in heckling defeat. Strolling through Boston Saturday after they cleaned up the Red Sox fans off the streets, some with handcuffs and some with shovels; I was excited to see what events would unfold during the evening. I’m glad I wore dress clothes, because every clown with half a bicep showed up in a “Smedium” to pack the 1100 seat John Hancock Theater in downtown Wicked-Pissaville. A source from behind the stage said it reeked of protein farts and body odor, because when you have competition tanner on; you can’t use deodorant/anti-perspirant for if you do, your armpits will turn green and the judges are opposed to any color that isn’t cocoa. Now I have to give these competitors props. The amount of training, mental and dietary discipline one has to endure on a daily basis in order to just get on stage and not be embarrassed is enough to bring every bodybuilder to tears near the end. It’s hard because the brain begins to play tricks on you after the amount water loss endured the week before the contest and then to have maintain certain poses for extended periods of time and flexing to the point of near physical collapse. One guy flexed is abs so forcefully; his pet gerbil Alfred briefly broke the sound barrier after being fired out of the contestant’s ass. This was no way for an audience member to lose an eye, but the SHOW MUST GO ON!
After the paramedics rushed the furry fart-ball to Mass General, the audience was joyfully introduced to the bikini section of the competition. Understand that it takes a lot more than rock hard abs and fake bing-bongs to win this event, u have to essentially ban all carbs and salt from your life for at least 90 days, not to mention monitor your water intake by the droplet. For the bikini, I recommend either a blue or a red color, but try to pick something that stands out. I have to state this because its chewing on my brain, if your man or woman doesn’t put as much effort on your wedding day as these people did at the competition, feel free to leave that idiot all champagned up at the alter and start anew. Criticize all you want, but at least I feel better.
Now the event lasts about 3 ½ hours, including several classes in the categories of Bodybuilding, figure, fitness, bikini, and physique. Now I originally thought this would be a little too long, because some of the women in the physique class would take to chewing on the pillars of the building. But all the female roid-rage moments were thankfully hidden behind the stage…the men not so much. One male physique poser (no names, we’ll just call him bitch-face) chose to bark insults at the sound guy while standing center stage after his music cut out in mid-pose. No matter what distractions may arrive at your doorstep, you NEVER lose your composure on stage, and that’s why bitch-face took third place in his class, instead of owning first. The judges do not like that and they made it known by where he ended up placing. You don’t go to a nice restaurant and shake salt n’ pepper on your 50 dollar steak and you don’t lose your cool on-stage in front of 1100 meatballs, lesson learned, bitch-face. Now 4-Time Mr. Olympia winner Jay Cutler was on hand to sign autographs, take photos, and pose on stage. The fun began when he walked off stage…into the audience…in his mankini. I swear women were going to start pulling out dollar bills as he climbed on the theater chairs and flexed his massive chest for every flashing bulb in the building, stopping in front of a wide-eyed 5 year old girl to shake hands, flash his tongue, and do a floor shaking chest pump dance as the two guys next to me went from six to midnight. Graphic? One could argue this point. Entertaining? I say its fun for the whole family!
I guess to wrap this mess up I would say, with all the health problems and dietary mis-information or lack thereof in this country, to see this type of physical perfection in all age groups where even the Monopoly Man Look-like had the crowd cheering and applauding his 60 year old physique as he passed GO again, was truly refreshing. So close this out, if you’re sitting here and reading this with one hand inside a bag of Cheetos, get up off your ass, wash your hands, and run as fast as you can through oncoming traffic, and if you make it thru without getting hit, sign up for the gym tomorrow morning and leave the cellulite behind.
PROLOGUE
There is one constant that I believe to be always true; it’s that none of us have a clue. Some of us believe that true freedom is small government and choice without consequence; others believe that this theory leads to chaos and the breakdown of civilization. Some people believe in science and molecules; others believe in cloud people that fire lightning bolts. I’m not here to argue whether Star Trek is better than Star Wars (it is). I’m here to remind you that when you ask that monkey why he threw his feces at another monkey, it’s because he saw a human do it first.
I texted my manager wishing him good luck with his new regional gig in Our City Radio and he responded saying that he would continue to read my articles and that I should come up with a title for my rants that I write weekly. Hey, I have enough crap to do and now a bassist for a metal band is telling me how to present my articles?!?! Wait…Jon Paul Jones, Getty Lee, Les Claypool and Sting are all bassists…okay he might be on to something then. I guess in all that sarcasm lies a positive, Bass Guitarists are geniuses. Now when I write these articles, it’s usually late on a Saturday night and I could be filled with either green tea or cheap brandy. So there is a solid chance that what I write makes absolutely no goddamn sense to anyone including me, but that’s the beauty of it all, I‘m willing to take that risk. The message in my articles will always be positive, but you may have to cross some burning bridges and rocky terrain to get to that positivity.
The world is filled with bash-happy bloggers and political agendas on all sides, that when you say you don’t like your pizza with pepperoni, someone will call you a racist. It is said that most jokes have a portion of truth behind them. Once again, if you have a common sense bell, feel free to ring it until your ears bleed. I do not push political agendas or complain that V12 Engines are bad for the environment, or that you shouldn’t eat veal. But if you ask me to side with a comedian who told a bad joke or the person who was offended by that bad joke, I will always side with the comedian, because in order to fail; there has to be an attempt. So what I ask from you the reader, is to let go of your hardline feelings and be open minded about what you have been and will hopefully continue to be reading in the coming weeks.
Also don’t drink diet soda, that’s the biggest joke of all.
BEING MICHAEL BAY
“Roll Tape…And ACTION!!! (Explosions) and CUT!!!” From start to finish, one can argue that a movie directed by Michael Bay is usually filled with this type of meat-headed simplicity. Sadly though, moviegoers are generally a very negative audience; which upsets me, because the last place I would choose to be in is a theater full of bratty bloggers all hopped up on Haterade. So let us take a stroll back down memory lane to identify the issue, if there is one.
In Michael Bay’s first two movies, We saw Will Smith before he went on to become one of Hollywood’s highest paid actors, we also saw Sean Connery in arguably one of his best all time films, ‘The Rock’, a must watch for any action junky. At this point, why just blow up an island when you can blow up a whole planet…well Bay almost did in ‘Armageddon’; which he dropped on audiences only two years later. Now I’m not going to dissect every movie that Bay’s done in this article, you can look them up yourself. I’m here to quell the rage that people show when they hear his name attached to movie credits. Lets focus on his latest collection, The ‘Transformers’ trilogy. With three movies having a combined gross of almost $3 Billion dollars and a fourth movie due in summer of 2014, the arguments against these were that the plot was weak, the acting was cardboard, the jokes were offensive, the tone of the movies were uneven, and it was giant ball of noise with a side of Megan Fox’s ass.
So we’re in agreement that a movie about giant fighting space robots is not an Oscar contender…No S%*t. IT’S A MOVIE ABOUT GIANT FIGHTING ROBOTS! That’s like complaining about a porn movie, because the characters aren’t believable enough or that the set looks too low budget, please, all you do is skip ahead twenty minutes to the money shot and pass out on your unwashed futon. I even doubt if you even made it through the previews, pervert. I think in today’s world, men have such a hard time showing their masculinity in front of women, they’d prefer to stand out by not flowing with the masses to go see these giant popcorn blockbusters, instead opting for more independent movies as a way to impress the ladies. That way of standing out and pronouncing “I don’t run with the masses, I march to a different tune” is as stupid as your plaid sweater and black-rimmed eyeglasses. What are you, the singer for ‘Kings of Leon’? What is so wrong with loving the slow motion action shots and dirty jokes? Just remember dudes; before there was Megan Fox, there was Optimus Prime. This is why we flock to these CGI filled blockbusters, to feel like a kid again, before responsibility was a word we could spell. Now don’t come away from this thinking that all I do is watch super over-hyped mega-flicks, I have seen some beautiful and heartfelt independent movies, I can certainly be a fan of an original flick by some no-name director who may never get another job in cinema again, but what Michael Bay does with slow moving bullets, walking away from explosions, and big budget action scenes is something I can only describe as beautiful. He’s delighted me, frightened me, offended me, and made me clap while laughing all in the same breath and when I leave the theater after 142 minutes of special effects and artificial noise, I know in my fast beating heart that the 15 bucks I just spent was a way better choice than just sitting at home and melting into YouTube. Michael Bay isn’t done yet, he’ll be back and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it.
As far as M. Night Shymalan, let us hope he doesn’t return at all.
MEATLOAF, A LUST STORY
Meatloaf…no, not the fat-ass Ballad Rocker from ‘Fight Club’, I mean the culinary oddity that once delighted half the kids in America, and terrified the other half, blame mom.
In my opinion, the idea of the Holy Grail is to find the pinnacle of whatever you happen to be seeking, whether it’s life, love or something your parents would force into a bread pan and bake for an hour. I suggest everyone should try BAD meatloaf, if you haven’t already. It is, without a doubt, the most brutal dish one could ever screw up, because if you mess it up, not only does it taste like potting soil, but also you can never clean the pan again. The loaf welds itself to the side of the bread pan and now your throwing away two things.
In order to confirm that I’ve actually found GREAT meatloaf, I brought a couple friends along (yes I have friends) to sample what I’ve wanted to write about for quite a while. The British Beer Company is a new establishment in Manchester and I was curious to see how the food and hospitality was on a packed Friday evening. My friends were already seated when an absolute sweetheart of a server was already taking our beer orders, and since I was there for work reasons technically, I highly recommend drinking on the job, I wish congress would drink on the job…maybe they already do and this wouldn’t help further my argument. Maybe I’ll stick to cute servers and righteous meatloaf. Once Miss SmilyPants took off with our drink order, it wasn’t long before she returned with a hors d’oeuvre like plate of beer for my friends and little something for myself. Now during this very short and enjoyable process, the entire restaurant was packed, the bar didn’t have a single free stool and yet none of the staff seemed to miss a beat, the front of the house was polite, the serving staff were cruising around without any panic and the bar patrons were quite cheery as their B.A.C continued to rise. You wouldn’t have noticed a full house, things were running so smoothly, now maybe the kitchen staff was in “War of The Worlds” mode, but you couldn’t tell from the looks of the food that was passing by my table. Now I admit, I can be a little impatient on Friday afternoon; my buddies say I act like I blew 4 lines of coke and have the look of Walter White, but I was no match for the speed of the appetizers to our table and how fast the main courses soon followed.
It’s now here, Mashed Potatoes…Fresh Vegetables…Meatloaf.
The sound of Coldplay’s “Fix You” stuck in my head, making the moment fairly emotional as I take my first bite into the moist, gravy covered, steaming…oh dear.
How can something so easily botched by domestic households everywhere be so done to perfection here? Why do I even care? They have a bar with every beer you would want on draft, they have servers that would melt Hitler’s heart, and all I can mentally process is this simple European staple? Well it’s why I came here in the first place. It is that good. I can’t get past it. And why would one want to? There are so many overdone, overrated and overcooked piles of garbage out there, that when something this enjoyable comes along, it deserves recognition. There are other entrée’s to choose from, like the Pot Roast; which is a beast of a dish, but tonight it’s all about the loaf. The BBC is a clear winner and deservedly so. They do it right and that’s all that matters.
British Beer Company
603-282-0589 (Manchester, NH)
ANOTHER MILDLY SARCASTIC FOOD REVIEW…BUT WITH PIZZA
Writing about your choice of pizza places can be rather difficult, because that’s when the pie purists and deep dish dough-brains always want to throw in their opinions as to who makes the best circular piece of bread with cheese on it. Well my response to you is to simply keep it to yourself this time. This is about me, it’s always been about me, that’s what I told all my exes and that’s what I’m telling the readers now. I’m not here to crown the number one pizza joint in the world; it would take me months from Chicago to all five boroughs to establish the reigning champ. So let’s slow down and simply take in what this particular restaurant has to offer.
From the beginning, you’ll have my attention if you have outside seating, but its so hard to do up in the northeast, it’s either the temperature of the sun, it’s raining or there’s five feet of snow hindering your enjoyment of the patio furniture, so I guess we’ll just focus on the indoor ambiance…yeah, ambiance.
To picture it in your mind, huge ceilings, old school brick and wood decor, friendly on the eyes lighting, a nice bar with all the wines and spirits you either cant pronounce or can’t afford, and an open kitchen to entertain the lame couple that can’t entertain themselves. Now that brings up something that I should make note of while dining at 900 Degrees, this is not a fast paced culinary sweatshop. The pizza is wood grilled and prepared from scratch with fresh/correct ingredients that give you a feeling that effort was put into creating your food. So while you’re waiting twenty minutes for your pie to roll out, have a drink or an app, maybe strike up a conversation with that hopefully interesting person you brought along. If you expect everything immediately and at your fingertips, you may be quite disappointed when your lady friend shows up with makeup resembling a melted Crayola and smashing her face into a left out bag of potato flour while hastily running out the door and still smelling like another man’s sofa…wait a few extra minutes for your food.
The menu may have your typical cheesy catchwords like ‘Tuscan’ or ‘Rustic’, but all that is quickly forgiven once you lay into the thin, sort of crunchy and aromatic ‘Bella Cosa’ pie that’s just been delivered to your table on an elevated serving dish so when you stare at the pizza, it stares back lovingly. You can create your own custom pie, but don’t bother; there are already enough awesome combinations on the menu to tie you over as soon as you open it. All the dish names are quite cozy and Italian, but I do take humorous offence with ‘Pompeii’. I’m so glad that the horrific death of thousands of Roman’s has inspired a jalapeno and hot sausage pizza. Bon-appetite, Lava Surfers! At least this volcano pizza is available in gluten-free dough. So it all evens out in the end.
From before the pizza with mussels and Tuscan Spicy Wings, to after the pizza with Toasted Almond Cream Cake, it’s a good time out food-wise. But if your looking for a deal, because you’re a cheap bastard, well try to drag some friends out on a Tuesday for a buy one pizza, get another free, there’s also happy hour at the bar from 3-6pm.
I like to rate my movies, but I don’t like to rate my food, all I know is that 900 Degrees is really tasty stuff and I think you should go there too. Check out their menu, specials and list of events at their website. My recommendation, try anything with artichokes or Kalamata olives on it. That could be the dessert, but I guess you won’t know until you go there.
50 Dow Street
Manchester, NH
1-603-641-0900
My First Love
In the nighttime air, your lips moistening against the surface of a supple, juicy breast, your body tingling, hands nervously shaking with excitement, this is the moment you’ve been waiting for. Its now finally here, as you experience your first piece of…fried chicken.
That’s right, folks, I went lowbrow this time, blame it on writers block, it’s the easy way out. Either way, we’re going down this road and I hope to hell this highway doesn’t have too many traffic jams…mmmmm jam.
I’ve ranted about street food before, its purity, its simplicity…its fat content. This little gem of a food shop was the ABSOLUTE first of the new restaurants in Manchester to catch my attention, and if you look closely at just the chicken alone after your eyes adjust from being blinded by the giant neon sign outside, an exceptional amount of effort has gone into this poultrypalooza. All the excess fat is carefully removed from the meat so that just the crispiness of the thin skin will be left over the meat after being fried in a lightly spicy batter that will make you wanna eat the bones; which I have accomplished many times on the wings. You can tell when a chicken wing is cooked just right, to where you can bite off the tip of the wing and that crunchy fried goodness is like a little piece of candy before you dive into your actual meal.
Now when you think of New Hampshire, you don’t think of deep fried chicken or Gyros or even beef kebabs (why kebab is spelled differently in the menu from the store name I don’t know). Hell, you don’t even think of food, you’re imagining over-priced antique shops, watery maple syrup, highway liquor stores and many other reasons to help you quit life. Yet some clowns would argue, “But this is New England! We have all four seasons and its beautiful watching the leaves change.” And my response to them would be…you’re an idiot, the first amendment doesn’t apply to you and you’re no longer allowed to communicate with any other Bi-Pedal mammals. Un-cuff your pant legs, get back in your Subaru with your Panini Sandwiches and don’t ever leave Burlington, Vermont again. Your plaid shirt is ugly and you’re afraid of your wife.
Now let’s deal with facts at hand, the food selection is vast, it’s as if they jacked every street cart from midtown Manhattan and shoved them all into a four page brochure. Another thing I should mention is that USA Chicken doesn’t pretend to be something their not, they don’t appeal to new-age foodies, their not gluten-free, they don’t have a sob story…It’s simply food porn with a smile and I’m usually so stuffed with fried chicken and flaky meat pies, that I usually overlook their large assortment of desserts consisting of ice creams, milkshakes, pies and cakes. Plus the choice of eating there, taking it out or having it delivered (fat-ass) just gives me way more options than I probably deserve. Now as a true gym rat who tends to follow a more forgiving culinary regiment, this is more of a weekly cheat meal for someone like myself, but If you are one of those people that believe Diet Cola is good for you, I recommend either a Gyro Salad or the Kebab Salad as alternative to the fried food overkill.
One more thing I wanna add before wrapping up this disaster piece of a food review, when its Friday night at 2 am and your stumbling out of the bars with some freckle-faced bimbo you just met, before sealing the deal and getting tested the next day for a STD, due note that USA Chicken is open until 3am on Friday and Saturday and is right across the street from that bar you just fell out of. This review will self-destruct in 5 seconds…
USA Chicken & Biscuit (Open 7 Days)
603-232-2934
An Evening With Fidel...
A Canadian, a Jew, and a Nurse walk into a Cigar Bar…
A way better title opening than Star Wars and far more realistic, for example, “A Jedi, a Wookie, and a Gold Robot with feminine qualities walk into a Tavern”. See my point?
While you’re arguing in your head about the validity of my opening statement, let me break down how the evening started…
Scuffling away from a locked door at a wine bar that oddly enough, closes at 5pm on a Saturday, I immediately contemplated throwing in the towel for the evening and grabbing some fried chicken before the loser drive home. Knowing I have a review due in the morning, I turn on the mental afterburners and bang a left into a well known Cigar shop…appropriately located next to the fried chicken place, more on that in my next review!
Having no wine and no actual plan at this point, I stumble around the infinitely stacked humidor room staring at everything like it was a sex toy shop, grabbing the shortest cigar I could find, not ribbed for anyone’s pleasure I might add.
Now I’ve known Castro’s for being a regular go to for anyone wanting to enjoy the game on a barber’s chair while puffin a stogie. For the inexperienced please take note, Cigars are like baseball games, they never end, but that’s the beauty of it, if you can take in either a cigar or a baseball game, you’re a person who takes their time and isn’t apologizing to their boinking buddy 48 seconds after crash landing onto the bedroom mattress.
For all the times I’ve been in Castro’s, this is the first time I’ve seen what has been in their store name for all these years…a BACK ROOM!!! Beautiful black sofas and chairs, a vintage wood bar with comfy stools, a commendable beer list accompanied by a friendly selection of spirits (order the Ron Zacapa Rum) and a lovely but devious bartender, whose angelic smile only drew you into her blitzing sarcasm; which could pierce the armor of a World War II German Tank.
As I proceeded to sew the up holes from her tongue bullets, I am greeted by a couple from across the intimate bar. A nurse from Colorado and her beer loving hubby from Arizona who began asking why I was having such a tough time lighting my cigar…probably because I suck at it. Also, don’t inhale a cigar, your better off wrapping your lips around a car exhaust while your friend crushes the gas pedal.
Insert the Canadian, who obviously had to remind us that they have provinces in Canada. Yeah, we get it, not all of us in this fading republic are that stereotypically stupid!
As the glass became empty, the stories became exaggerated and the insults started flying, it suddenly had become clear to me. THIS IS A TRUE BAR. This isn’t where you go to stare at your stupid phone or glance hatefully across the room at another huge group of drunk girls. This was a true social setting, a place where decisions were made more rapidly than anywhere in Congress. I felt at home in that barstool. I could’ve grabbed some fried chicken and came right back. (ENOUGH WITH THE CHICKEN!!!)
Did I get my wine that night? No. Did I get my fill that night? Without a doubt.
Castro’s Back Room is a more than a Cigar Shop/Bar; it’s a reminder that the truth is only a cigar and glass of whisky from being heard. So just pick a cigar and your favorite beer and soak in the glory of the verbal firefight that usually dissolves into awkward name-calling and Rodney Dangerfield impressions. As for that bartender who could leave any patron sobbing and sucking their thumb (photo evidence pending), She brought us all together as if we were all high school buddies, yet we were merely strangers, but while under her watch…we were all friends.
Castro’s Back Room
972 Elm St Manchester, NH 03101
(603) 606-7854
Innocence & Candy
Gone are the days of being a pre-teen pubescent 6th grader scrounging up enough quarters just so my little crew of bicycle riding buddies could fill a little paper bag of over-sweetened assortments from the local candy store. It was a time in our lives when many of the simple things were more than enough to enrich our souls by way of peach-flavored gummies and fudge so thick, one could use it to patch a hole in their driveway.
Now a little older, we try to reclaim our youth anyway we can. My recent strolls down memory lane randomly led me into a little candy shop on Elm St. Once inside, I reviewed the surprisingly large amount of what appeared to be locally made chocolates as well as Ice Cream. From honeycombs to crackers to Cadillacs, there was nothing they didn’t dare to dip in some form of gooey goodness. The pleasantly polite staff floated over angelically and asked if I would like to sample some items. Hearing the whisperings of my youth, I set my eyes upon the dark chocolate covered toffee bites with almond flakes and suddenly felt a bit of my innocence return that I had lost so many years ago…1997 to be more precise.
They (whomever “They” are) say that certain foods bring back fond memories to those who haven’t indulged in such culinary enlightenments after long time periods, but after every bite of that crunchy toffee, more and more of my youthful memories began to return in droves, minus the memories of my mother chasing me down to the bus stop before school trying to fill me full of Ritalin.
With my youth returned and my innocence partially restored, I began to review the mass of assorted wonders that were coated in chocolate, the dark chocolate covered honeycombs, the classic choco-pretzels, the salted chocolate caramels, the chocolate blueberries, seriously an award winning variety. If Jimmy Hoffa were buried nearby, this staff would surely dig him up and coat him in chocolate.
Now Granite State Candy Shoppe offers a parcel like variety of boxes for one to take home to the angry spouse. So depending upon one’s situation, you may choose any size box you wish, from small ½ pound boxes to purge those weekly chocolate demons, to large specialty boxes if you wish to speed across the finish line of Morbid Obesity.
However you choose to smooth things over at home, this place has you covered for more than just chocolate covered insanity, The ice cream menu alone will have you shoving your own children out of the way to experience the cool coated glory of flavors like Red Velvet, Strawberry Cheesecake, Chocolate Hazelnut, or Burgundy Mocha Chip!
What more could you possibly want from a locally made, family owned (1927) establishment? Well for one thing, you can visit their website at www.nhchocolates.com or simply visit their original store in Concord on Warren Street or the one right on Elm Street in downtown Manchester for further information/salivation.
Your innocence is calling, answer it and have yourself a bite of the good ole days.
Fish Taco Friday
About 5 years ago, all you could find for food around Manchester was a couple half-ass pizza places, some decent Szechuan and a steak house for those who had more plastic in their wallets than Joan Rivers has in her face.
The fact is that you can spend all the money in the world, but nothing beats the simplicity and joy of common street food. Some of my favorite times out on the west coast was chasing after taco trucks after a night of San Francisco binge drinking…granted the memories were blurry, but lemme get to the point of my review/rant.
After the inaugural stumble into Dos Amigos on the main strip in Manchester, I’ve officially found the perfect “beer ’n bite” as to start my weekend. I cannot over-emphasize the convenience of this hotspot. My approach hardly waivers as I always order two fish tacos in a wheat tortilla; which are always made to order in a zesty, but light garlic sauce. The crunchy morsels of made to order fish will easily seduce the most novice seafood eater and even though your options are bean, chicken, steak, ground beef, pork, sweet potato and tofu for those that think bulimia is part of the Jenny Craig weight-loss program, I always go for the fish. Now every table has the wonderful Cholula Hot Sauce, including the bar that looks out onto the main strip; which is where I sit to watch stupid people with smarter phones blindly crash into each other. Does this make the food tastier? No, but it does make the experience that much more enjoyable!
So let’s see, what could possibly top off this little morsel of heaven? Beer…a clever selection of Dos Equis (Green and Amber), Corona, Pabst Blue Ribbon for the hipsters, and Modelo; which is hard to turn down. Now on a beautiful day, you may sit outside in their provided Bistro setup, a lovely plus to any eatery. Now what about the fact that Dos Amigos has complimentary Wi-Fi just so you can mobile stalk your ex while eating, or the fact that they use all-natural hormone free chicken and steak, or that they have 5 locations across New Hampshire, or gluten free and vegan menus are also offered, or that on Tuesdays you can get tacos for as little as two bucks, or 5 dollar burrito Monday, or family Sunday, or their punch card program (yes I have one), or the fact that I’ve only mentioned a micro fraction of the entire menu; which consists of Burritos, Nachos, Tacos, Salads, Burrito Bowls, Chili and a kids menu!
Dos Amigos is open for lunch and dinner 7 days a week in Portsmouth, Dover, Rochester, Concord and Manchester. As long as they don’t change their recipe for success, I’ll surely be back for more.
dosamigosburritos.com
If you want to make your own steak burrito, crush the link below and follow the instructions on how to make "Jen's" steak burrito at home!