The Netscape-friendly hunt for the perfect urban food log.

Sunday, July 24, 2005

Worst. Burrito. Evah: Curry Village in the Yosemite Valley is the original family camp, I guess: 107 years old. You spend what would buy you a fabulous four-star hotel room in Bakersfield for a tent cabin with camp beds that's about six inches away from your neighbors. Not only did I get to learn exactly what teen-aged girls giggle about, I got to hear when the baby woke up with nightmares. On the other hand, the back window flap opened onto a view of Yosemite Falls, the Merced River is just a short walk away, and after the evening program we could lie back on the benches in the amphitheater and look for shooting stars and satellites.

Obviously, you don't go there for the food. Still, there is a food pavilion offering family-camp-style food: pizza, burgers, a breakfast/dinner buffet and burritos.

Stay away from the burritos.

The rice is Rice-A-Roni; the beans are a taupe spackle flavored with McCormick's Chili Powder, the salsa came out of a jar and the chicken -- I could only tell it was chicken and not ground beef by making a visual inspection. This will set you back about $5, and you would be better off eating your money. My Dining Companion wouldn't take more than a bite of hers even though she had been run up and down the Mist Trail shortly after breakfast, then forced to cavort in the river for about an hour. I ate mine -- you don't want to meet me on low blood sugar -- but it was NASTY. I would gladly have paid $9 for one of those yuppified burritos from the Bear Valley cafe about that time.


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