It's the SXSW Music Festival 2010. Our manager informs us that our show tonight at Latitude 30 is to be attended by a whole host of important record labels, trend setting magazines and general music industry douche bags (I of course only facetiously adopt the idiom).
We should be nervous, yet nerves seem to be back over in the UK. Do not however, put this down to supreme confidence. No, as we skip down 7th St. like the embarrassing pasty-skinned Englishmen we are, it becomes apparent that the complimentary (and multiple) Pepperitas were probably not the best idea. (For the record Margarita + Superficial taste of Pepper = Pepperita. It tastes like a liquid Pizza Hut and it goes down easily).
Our ever sensible Tour Manager (TM) spots the danger and quickly guides us towards food. TM has the incredible ability of knowing the exact location of every kind of food establishment in pretty much every major city. He's a real asset (even if his subjective use of 'decent' may sometimes be questioned.)
We arrive at the Boiling Pot and I'm both encouraged and frustrated by the queue.
'Well basically, they give you a bib and they bring this big pot out full of all sorts...crawfish, crab legs, blue crab, shrimp, corn on the cob, sausages, potatoes...and they just pour it on the table.'
'Excuse me?'
'Oh and you don't have cutlery...just a wooden mallet.'
'Brilliant.'
See what I mean about TM's use of 'decent?' The idea of adults wearing plastic bibs does not exactly scream 'decency' to me.
Never mind. I'm starving.
We're greeted by a girl who is just too perky for anyone's good. She had an ungodly amount of perk.
'How many of you?' she asks, perkily.
'Four.' It's TM, Quiff, Ginger and myself. God knows where Big Hands has gone...TM must know.
In a stroke of inspiration we order 'The Boiling Pot' *Penny Drops* and four shiner bocks..
'Oh and do you have any Pepperitas?'
TM did not sell it short. There are four wooden mallets on the table which sit next to a set of instructions, the kind you get in a kinder egg, on how to de-shell the crabs. We down the Pepperitas, start on the Shiner Bocks, and comment on the fact that it's hunger and not nerves that is twisting our insides.
Sharing food can be a dangerous game for four 'Hungry Young Men,' but any fears are instantly appeased as soon as Perky comes and dumps the boiling pot on the table.
Dear god, everything is bigger in Texas.
Needless to say, the food was not great. The potatoes were cold, and despite it having been 30°+ all day, they managed to evoke the feeling I used to get as I walked through the drizzle towards school on a Monday morning. The sweetcorn and sausage were both chewy in texture and like plasticine in taste. And for the crabs, well the shell to meat ratio was frankly ridiculous. I followed the instructions intently and came out with a bit of crab the size of a fingernail. Or was that my fingernail? Where did I go wrong?
But before you think I'm going to tread the much worn path of draconian criticism for shock's sake, I must protest and strongly propound that I'm a believer of giving credit where credit is due. The Boiling Pot had two redeeming features which offset the damage inflicted by the awful food. Firstly, there was an incredibly energetic atmosphere which (combined with the Pepperitas) allowed for an enjoyable meal in spite of the food. Secondly, using the wooden mallet made me feel oddly masculine...like a hunter or a woodsman. I suppose this is a plus.
Ratings: Food 1/5 (and only because I was stupidly hungry)
Atmosphere 4/5
Pepperitas 5/5!
NB: My rating system is fickle, and I'll change it how I see fit.
D.
ps. Big Hands turned up, and the gig was a resounding success.
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