On my ever expanding quest to become more Grigg* like, my chick and I decided to go to the one place a Grigg* spotting was most likely: The Great American Food Fest!
After properly saucing up at the bar inside Sunset Station, we met up with another friend (she's Thai if you care to know and her last name is stupid hard to pronounce. Somebody needs to marry her just so she can relieve the arthritis in her hand from writing it down so often.) Whatevs.
When we were walking in the lady who was tasked with all of the power in the world to control the flow of the line starting barking out commands like Gunnery Sergeant Hartman from Full Metal Jacket and I have to say, most things Donald Trump says about women are most likely true about her.
My companion noted that it looked like storms were on the horizon, so the dude at the table told us we could pay for two people and he'd let three in. Boom. I'm already making money.
Okay, now we're in. Dozens upon dozens of food trucks with everything ranging from "The Jay-Z of BBQ" to Cousins Maine Lobster. How could he possibly resist being here?
We took a stroll around, checked out all of the trucks and decided on BBQ. Some dude in flip flops with less than manicured toes sold us on the tri-tip nachos and then like the wrath of 27 angry water gods the heavens opened upon us and rained the tears of a thousand lonely babies. We didn't have our tri-tip nachos that day. Instead, we stood under the beer tent washing away our sorrows while the rain washed away our foodie fest dreams.
No Grigg* sighting, only rib biting..... And that's only because we decided to ditch loserville and go into the Sunset Station cafe for some prime rib. (More like "subprime" rib, but that's another review.)
I'm giving this two stars because their weather sucked.