April 2, 2003

MY GOOD FRIEND , ex-bandmate, and favorite poet, Haywire, is coming to town, ostensibly to promote his first-ever book of poems, Maine (Slope Editions, 80 pages). However, anyone who's ever watched Haywire attack a burrito as many times and with as much relish (or salsa, as it were) as I have (i.e., me) knows the real reason why his big West Coast book tour includes readings in San Francisco, and San Francisco.

I can almost pretty much guarantee you that next week's Cheap Eats will revolve around burritos, the way the whole world used to back in the day. Back when me and Haywire used to haunt Can-Cun, among other Mission District taquerías, crying into our aguas frescas over how we'd never get our first books published, and how, if we did, we'd never do a reading together at City Lights.

What? Did I mention it?

Well, before you go thinking I'd stoop to abuse the integrity of this column by using it to promote a good friend, do me the kindness to consider the whole picture and gather all the facts. I'm reading with Haywire at City Lights Bookstore, Columbus and Broadway, on April 3 at 7 p.m. We might even sing a song or two or three together; but, since billing ourselves as Ed's Remaining Qualities might border on shameless opportunisticism, we've decided to go with Simon's Remaining Garfunkel. (I'm Simon.) And then, when he reads again (April 8 at the Hemlock Tavern on Polk Street), I'm not reading that night, but my band's playing, of course.

As for the book (Maine, Slope Editions, 80 pages), I'm not a book reviewer or I'd tell you in 750 entirely incomprehensible words – referencing many obscure artists and monks and 18th-century Swedish meatball experts – what I'll bet I can get across by the end of this paragraph. Which is to say: I read it three times in three sittings, one of which overlapped with lunch, and I laughed so hard that a piece of rice came out my nose.

Yesterday, after eating leftover red beans and rice and gumbo for lunch (Crawdad's been on a roll), I tried to have Cajun food for dinner, too. Me and Wayway and Gatorgator had BARTed over to Berkeley to see a show at the Starry Plough, and we might have made it to La Bayou before closing if they wouldn't have closed two-and-a-half minutes early, the bums.

There's not a lot to choose from on Adeline and Alcatraz at nine o'clock on a weeknight. There's a taquería that specializes in fish-and-chips and a Chinese restaurant that specializes in fried chicken. For me, the decision was easy; I had fish-and-chips last week, and next week is bound to be all burritos (Maine, Slope Editions, 80 pages). The Chinese joint had the added advantage of one of the most enticing slogans I've ever seen: "Chinese and American Food Offer." Right there, big as blazes, on the sign over the door.

Double Eight Restaurant is the name of the place. Its logo is two eights, or "88," in an eight ball. Maybe that's not its logo, but if it isn't, it should be. Its address, by the way, is 1818 Alcatraz. But Double Eighteen just doesn't have the same ring.

"Chinese and American Food Offer."

We ordered Chinese food (pot stickers, pork fried rice, green pepper beef) and we ordered American food (fried chicken and mashed potatoes).

The waitressperson, none too happy to see us in the first place (half an hour before closing), pointed out that the fried chicken would take 20 minutes. As said pointing out was accompanied by a meaningful look to the clock on the wall and an anxious glance at her wristwatch, I myself was inclined to change the order, but Gatorgator, ever the difficult bitch ...

Anyone who happens to know my friend Gatorgator will get the joke in that last statement. And anyone who knows me will know it was me who insisted on the fried chicken, even though Gatorgator had ordered it, because 20 minutes is the first thing I want to hear when I order fried chicken; it means it's fried to order. If you want me to change my mind, tell me it'll be right out.

Anyway, I'm glad I stuck to Gatorgator's guns, because not only was the fried chicken the best thing on the table, but it was also some of the best fried chicken this or that side of Gravy's. And one of the pieces was ever-so-slightly potentially underdone, meaning I got to take it home to cook the rest of the way for breakfast! With waffles!

Thigh and a breast: $2.70. Smashed potatoes and gravy: 80¢. Pot stickers: $3.10. Pork fried rice: $3.50. Green pepper beef: $5.25. Maine: $14.95.

Double Eight Restaurant. 1818 Alcatraz (at Adeline), Berk. (510) 601-7992. Mon.-Fri., 11 a.m.-9:30 p.m.; Sat., noon-9:30 p.m.; Sun., 4:30-9:30 p.m. Takeout available. No alcohol. Credit cards not accepted. Wheelchair accessible.