Summertime in the SLC, part 3
- Statistics talks that aren't mathematical tend to be very shallow. While I bear this more easily than the dead dullness of mathematical talks, it doesn't reflect well on the level of broader thinking about the subject.
- It may just be me (I'm pretty sure it is, but I'm probably right), but is the tenor of this conference distressingly capitalist? All this business-liberal jargon seems to be deployed with a mind to making kids more productive.
- I've long wanted a "Fuck Math" T-shirt. Outside of work, I don't use any math I didn't know at 10 (OK, I knew a lot of math at 10, but not calculus, trig etc.) Whenever I use math I didn't know at 10, it seems superfluous.
Big City Soup
The Main St branch looks closed, so I walked out to this location in the Gateway District. Lovely space, lovely staff. As for my lobster bisque, well, this isn't exactly the lobster capital of the world, but it was fine. For five bucks and change, it came with a generous chunk of fresh soft wheat focaccia, and a slice of Tillamook. I'd certainly return if I were a local.
Taqueria El Rey De Oros
There are many taquerias and stands out around 900 W, and I don't know how this rates in comparison, but I believe this is the only place with pictures of a king holding a taco and a butcher's cleaver painted on the front wall. I also know you can get three tacos (or a burrito), a few slices of radish and onion and carrot, and a Pepsi for $2.50 plus tax. Tried the carne asada and the al pastor; the latter was much better, not the very best I've had but full of meaty taste. Quite possibly burritos are better. Maybe one day some brave soul will do a taqueria crawl out this way; until then, this'll be my recommendation for an ultra-budget SLC eat.
Cafe Pierpont
Went here on the recommendation of someone's local friend, unfortunately. Would've liked the place a lot better if we hadn't ordered margaritas. The drinks suffered from Utah Cocktail Syndrome: even Cocaine, who despite his name has no tolerance for cotrolled substances of any kind, thought his was weak. After a long wait, our amiable Zonker-like server brought out ginormous plates of food for each of us; only I finished mine. My chicken was sufficiently juicy, but it and its accompaniments were bland. Still, the place would be acceptable if they served smaller portions for less money.
Labels: mexican, soup, when you get caught between the moon and salt lake city
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