Musubi Kings...

You can usually tell who's new to the game in the food industry. It's obvious that Musubi Kings hadn't anticipated their popularity. You could watch them perform through the mesh of their booth, frantically busting their ass like ants saving food before the cold weather comes, trying to produce food for a starving and demanding public.

The "pick-up" line was an oxbow of hodge podge customers, impatiently tapping their foots and throwing their hands up in the air occassionally saying, "What the fuck?" because their names hadn't been called for their Musubi. I ordered the Morning Musubi for $4 - spam, smoked bacon, maple aioli and egg - I don't love spam, but it's a nostalgic ingredient for this girl who grew up in the ghetto.



When I finally got it, I looked down and there was something missing. What's missing? I walked back up to the window and said, "Excuse me, I'm sorry, but could you please tell me where my spam is?" "Oh, you know what? Take this one." The spam was missing. And with a new Musubi in hand, this time my complimentary side of coleslaw was missing. No worries. By the time I was handed my Musubi, it was stone cold. Bummer.



I couldn't taste anything but seaweed and smoke. I would have loved to taste something as wonderful sounding as maple aioli, but I didn't. What this Musubi is missing is texture. Maybe if the spam could be left on the grill until the edges become crunchy, or maybe the bacon could be crispy instead of limp. I don't know. It just seemed to be lacking a lot of somethings