A visual document of Gastricolium III

The Gastrinauts would like to thank the Gastricolites for their valor that helped them surve the insanities of Gastricolium III.

The Old Gastrinauts and the new member, the Gastricoach prepared to start their official duties.

The smoked fish was served.
The party started.
A Gastrinaut was possesed by Beelzebub.
Gastrichaos ensued.

After a short break, to recover our health, honor and finances, we will announce a Gastricolium IV, where pumpkins won't be thrown onto the street. Stay tuned!

Three Gastronauts walk into a bistro . . .

Why Stixs Bistro is called a bistro we will never know. At a bistro we expect to find a menu, or chalkboard as in common in many bistros, with steak au poivre and pommes frites, French onion soup, baguettes, and wine. Maybe even a special or two. Certainly we did not expect to find a mixture of overdone meats and undercooked potatoes served on "stixs." In addition, a bistro shouldn't try to steal its ambiance and design from the Chipotle further down the street. Don't call it "Stixs Bistro"; no intrepid gastronomic adventurers, call it "Styx Bistro" because it is likely that you will wish you were crossing the river Styx in Charon's raft after eating at this cafeteria.

The first thing noteworthy about Stixs is the line to the cashiers. A jumbled mess of patrons blocks the entrance and starts lunch with the confusion of a routed army. We imagine this problem will be solved as soon as enough people have tried the food, and the lines disappear.

Stixs Bistro has a gimmick. Everything is served on a stick. A protein is impaled on a stick, sauced, and placed neatly over a bed of starch. For example a Greek tuna skewer promises to be something delightfully Mediterranean, served over couscous. I suppose that the marketers who came up with this menu are aware that couscous is not common in Greek cuisine, but they just assume we don’t know the difference between Greece and all those non-European countries surrounding the Mediterranean. The reality of the Greek tuna skewer was disappointing. The tuna was cooked until the waitress thought it was chicken. The stale couscous tasted like crap. The “Greek” sauce tasted like something that once said “Hidden Valley” on the side of its plastic squirt bottle.

The Argentinian Chimichurri platter featured a skewer of steak, red potato, mushroom and onion served over a bed of mashed potatoes with a creamed chimichurri sauce. The tough, chewy, well-done steak seemed to be boiled. The red potatoes were raw in the middle. The only thing enjoyable about this meal was the serving of mashed potatoes that were clearly of the dried flaked variety (fucking potatoes again!?!?). These were, thankfully, able to stave off the hunger perpetuated by this unpalatable meal.

Here is an interesting aside about raw potatoes, something that could really earn this slop house they title of “Styx Bistro.” Potatoes are a member of the nightshade family. They contain toxic compounds, called glycoalkaloids, that cooking partly destroys. Side effects of glycoalkaloid consumption may include headaches, diarrhea, and cramps. In rare cases glycoalkaloid poisoning can lead to coma and even death. Cook the potatoes.

“If you think it is reasonable to pay $6.75 for three pieces of "cajun" shrimp, two pieces of undercooked corn on a cob, and two pieces of uncooked potatoes served on a stick with a mayo sauce on the side, then your mother was a hamster and your father smelt of elderberries,” said one senior member of Gastricolium.

If you eat at Stixs, you better fucking love food on a stick, because that is the only thing this place has going for it.

The Gastronauts

Gastricolium III: post mortem

Bacchus, riding a cow and inspiring debauchery and madness, the bakcheia, pursues each Gastricolium. For the first Gastricolium, Bacchus merely passed late in the evening. For the second he stopped in after the main course. For the third however he arrived on time and sat with the Gastrinauts inspiring chaos and delirium on a scale not seen since the Gasticolii of yore. A portal to hell opened and Lucifer’s chief lieutenant, Beelzebub, entered the kitchen by way of his avatar the fly. He tempted us all with gluttony and drove us to insanity. He flew down my throat and for a while possessed my thoughts directly.

We have recovered and exorcised the demons of last Saturday. Only a few of Beelzebub’s minions still buzz around my kitchen. I would like to thank all those in attendance. We hope to throw Bacchus and Beelzebub off our trail by abandoning the regular schedule of previous Gastricolii. The date of the next one will remain a mystery.