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CHEAP EATS Hedgehog has a favorite restaurant in San Francisco. No, it's not John's Snack & Deli, but only because you can't sit down in there, and so it's hard sometimes to think of it as a restaurant. Hedgehog's favorite restaurant restaurant is San Tung, the incredible chicken wing place.

We tried to go there during our Avenue Days. We did, we walked through the Golden Gate Park, past the De Young Museum, around that other thing, and then across the Big Rec baseball diamonds diagonally.Read more »

le.chicken.farmer@gmail.com

CHEAP EATS Beignets have cheese in them. Boudin does not have rice. Andouille is made of tripe. It's not the least bit spicy. I'm learning a lot in France, and one of the things I'm learning is I can't wait to be back in New Orleans.Read more »

le.chicken.farmer@gmail.com

Do you remember the chicken farmer? Not me. The real one, Fabienne Gagagaga, upon whose farm on the west coast of France I landed serendipitously a year-and-a-half ago when I was ejected from Germany?Read more »

le_chicken_farmer@yahoo.com

CHEAP EATS It's an interesting experience to be a tourist in one's own town. I recommend it. And I don't mean showing your visitors to the Golden Gate Bridge and Alcatraz, a big, good dinner, and then going home; I mean sleeping at the hotel with them. Wandering around with a confused expression on your face, asking silly questions, and wearing funny clothes are optional, but encouraged.Read more »

le.chicken.farmer@gmail.com

CHEAP EATS In Lovelock at the Saddest Little Carnival Ever I threw ping-pong balls into little glass cups of water and in this manner won two goldfish. Live ones, looping insanely in a small plastic water cup with a lid on it.

"What do you have to do to win a stuffed one?" I said, indicating with a tilt of my head one of the strings of orange-and-white-striped Nemo fish adorning all four posts of the booth. These would have made much better travel companions. Then I could have given it to one of the chunks when I got home.Read more »

le.chicken.farmer@gmail.com

CHEAP EATS I've got to get my head out of my ass. I don't know if bars are where this happens, but the music is better. At the Dovre Club, they were playing the Cars, then the Clash, and Kayday was trying to think what comes next — the Dead Kennedys, or Devo — when a cockroach peeked out from under a coaster, then scampered between our drinks.Read more »

le.chicken.farmer@gmail.com

CHEAP EATS I probably could have picked a better route to the restaurant. Maybe if I'd gotten off at the Powell station instead of Civic Center. As it was, at not-even-9 a.m. on a Saturday, I had to step over piles of shit and vomit.

It was like reading one of my restaurant reviews; it's part of life, yes, but not necessarily the part you want to happen before dinner. Or in this case, breakfast.Read more »

le.chicken.farmer@gmail.com

CHEAP EATS I have already written a restaurant review, a poem, and a cheerful pop song about my anal abscess. I don't know how else to celebrate the cursed motherfucker. I could curse ... But I guess I've done that too.Read more »

le.chicken.farmer@gmail.com

CHEAP EATS K. Chunk's favorite restaurant is Caffe Venezia so that's where we went for her third birthday. She was having a fruitful, productive, and all-around happy day until — just before dinner — she fell off the slide and cut her mouth. Now some things were going to be hard to eat, like crusty bread. Poor little carb loader.

I tried to distract her from her discomfort in the usual way: by talking about mine.Read more »

le.chicken.farmer@gmail.com

CHEAP EATS I write to you from Dot's Diner in Jefferson Parish, La. Hedgehog is getting her knee looked at down the road, and I thought I would find me a place to sit that wasn't the waiting room. Or a pool hall. Or bar. Or fast food joint or automotive shop. Or warehouse, thrift store, or — but only because it's 9:30 a.m. and I ain't the slightest bit hungry — a fried seafood shack or po-boy shop.Read more »