The Daily Sandwich: ORGANIC CHICKPEA SLIDERS (Vizzi Truck)

Veni, Vizzi, Vici

My eyes are rejecting my contact lenses today, so please excuse any weirdness. Hopefully “thedailybinge” is spelled right on all the pictures, etc. Hard to see.

So the Vizzi Truck was here today, and I ordered chickpea sliders because I haven’t been feeling amazing in the stomach (apparently I need some probiotics?), and chickpeas sounded gentler than meats. And I thought the patties would be falafel-esque.

The Vizzi Truck’s menu has a lot of fancy words (it took some googling for me to interpret several items), and their site talks about how hip they are, media-wise:

While we seduce your taste buds, our other goal is to intrigue our guests with the sights and sounds of undiscovered talent. Our VIZZI truck is equipped to showcase independent musicians and exclusive DJ’s. Or if you prefer to watch short film clips from up-and- coming producers & directors, our one-of-a-kind mobile entertainment system has all the necessary elements to lure you into a taste of culture and style.

But for the record, when I was placing my order, one TV was playing “Days of Our Lives,” (that’s what I think it said… the hourglass soap opera). (I have never watched a soap opera. There is some TV that is beyond my scope.) The other was playing TALLADEGA NIGHTS: THE LEGEND OF RICKY BOBBY.

So… I wouldn’t exactly say that I was lured into “a taste of [for?] culture and style.” (Although I will admit that TALLADEGA NIGHTS was funnier than I expected.) (I caught a free screening in college… sometimes I miss all the freebies of college life.) (T-shirts!) (And in the scene I caught, Kenneth the Page was on the pit team.)

Anyway, here’s the food.

Or, to be more specific, here’s “a hand-chopped & formed vegetarian ‘cutlet’ served between a grilled Hawaiian bun and flavoured with a crème fraiché-chimichurri sauce and cilantro-scallion. Accompanied by pimento spiced-yakima salt popcorn.”

Party in a box.

The sign on the truck added that there were… black mission figs? Some sort of figs. You can’t see them in the picture though. They’re hiding in the popcorn. Or something. They were small.

I was expecting this to basically be falafel balls on Hawaiian rolls, but they were actually… patties. Between the soft Hawaiian bread (didn’t seem to be grilled) and the soft chickpea patties (which were a bit big for sliders… I set a few pieces of the patty aside), the sandwiches were a bit mushy. I wish there was some sort of crunch going on. (The popcorn was crunchy, but it wasn’t part of the sandwich.)

Also– it has been forever and ever since I’ve had a Hawaiian roll, and I remember them being so sweet and perfect, and these didn’t exactly live up to my expectations. Maybe they weren’t King’s Hawaiian. Or maybe I’ve just spent too long building them up in my head.

Not a bad lunch, but I wasn’t blown away.

Such are… the days of our lives. (I don’t actually know if that’s what they say.) (I seriously have never watched a soap. Very proud.)

Oh, and speaking of things made of chickpeas– here is a random picture of falafel balls (tee hee!) (grow up) from Open Sesame in Long Beach. I was there two weekends ago, and these are an example of the more fried falafel, as opposed to the more healthy-green Yalla ones. But these were the good type of fried. Like, what I kinda expected to see on my sliders.

Pretty colors. (From what I can see.)

My mom went to the bathroom at Open Sesame and reported that it was unisex. This led to a huge discussion (instigated by a series of questions from me) about whether unisex bathrooms with stalls (aka, for more than one) ever have urinals. Like, would a woman ever walk into a bathroom and see a man peeing in a urinal? Consensus: No.

So I went to the one-person unisex bathroom, and the door was NOT EVEN FULLY CLOSED, and of course I pull it open and a man is standing there, facing away from me, peeing into the toilet. And I run away. But not before stealing a candy from a dish on a nearby counter.

I’m starting to believe that my life just might be a sitcom. (That’s what one of my friends tells me whenever I recount these types of situations.)

It’s definitely not a soap opera. No evil twins. (YET.)



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