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| - I know in some cultures, food is envisioned as a symbol of affection. And if that's the case, the Del Rey at Los Reyes de la Torta must really be a symbol of love, because it was stupidly gigantic.
Honestly, I wasn't even that hungry when I went. It was just nearby, and I didn't want to have a trip out to Phoenix without trying a torta, so I went, figuring like most other foods, I can power it down like the fatty fat fat I occasionally am. After driving past several adult entertainment establishments and businesses in Spanish on an unflattering section of Indian School Rd., I found myself at Los Reyes, and was fortunate to find a parking space immediately up front like a rockstar.
Upon entering, it's a expansive floor filled with tables and booths. A stage indicates that this place probably clears the tables out and is a makeshift dance club of some sort on off-hours. Regardless, I'm seated promptly, and given chips and salsa right away.
Despite not speaking much beyond a lick of Spanish, I get an attractive waitress that understands our plight and mercifully converses with us in English. I order a Del Rey, after being told that the King Carlos V is only available at the other location.
Which turned out to be for the best, because when the Del Rey arrived, I feared what could possibly have made a Del Rey even bigger to mutate into an abomination of a King Carlos? Have you ever played a video game where you think you're doing good, but then you get to the second-to-last boss, and he turns out to beat your ass and you never actually get to see what the final boss even looks like? That's what the Del Rey was. It was a monstrosity of meat, eggs, cheese and more meat, smashed between two pieces of bread. The french fries on the side almost are all individually laughing at you, as if to say "you won't eat us, because you won't even finish that MF'ing sandwich!" I didn't realize what I had gotten myself into.
Fearlessly, or recklessly, I plowed in, and devoured one half of my torta. It was fantastic. I debated on whether or not I should even try the second half, to which my friend called me a (lady part) and dig in, to which I obviously had to. In the end, the bread remained, and I ended up messing it up and making it look like it was eaten somewhat before I threw in the towel. The fries all remained, laughing at me. It would have been better off taken to go, and handed out the window to the homeless guy that was hanging out on the exit ramp near my hotel.
Conclusively, it was a sandwich worthy of feeding four people, for just about $9. Absurd bang for the buck. It was made fresh and tasted great, but obviously I was ill-prepared for the experience. Even on an empty stomach, I probably would have failed to finish it. I can't believe there's something more epic than this, in the King Carlos. Staff was all quick, and polite to a non-Hispanic like me, and the location might be sketchy, but it's easy to get to. I do want to go back if/when I make it back to Phoenix some day.
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