Sweetbites

The Big One. Expected this month is Sweetbites Cafe and Bakery, the first brick-and-mortar location from the owner of Sweetbites Mobile Cafe. While the food truck is being taken off the road at least temporarily, the Washington Post and Northern Virginia Magazine report that fans of the food truck can get cupcakes, plus an expanded menu of cookies, fruit tarts, cakes, brownies, and more, from the cafe in McLean, Virginia.

In May, Rito Loco plans to bring tacos and quinoa bowls to its first brick-and-mortar location at 606 Florida Avenue N.W. in Shaw. According to Eater DC, Rito Loco hopes to expand beyond D.C., to South Florida, San Francisco, and even Europe.

Pleasant Pops

Second Time Around. The second location of Pleasant Pops is coming in June to the Woodward Building at 731 15th Street N.W. The Supreme Cart reviewed a homemade ice pop – a guac pop – one summer past.

Third Time Lucky. TaKorean has two locations in Union Market and Navy Yard and is expanding further with a third location at 13th and F Streets N.W. this summer. According to the Washington City Paper, the food truck that started it all is still up and running, but on a limited schedule at festivals and events.

When I first spotted Arepa Zone (“AZ”) in a line of food trucks near the Ballston metro station, I was immediately curious to learn more. What was an arepa? What type of cuisine was it? How did one correctly pronounce “arepa”?

AZ bills itself as “the DMV’s first and only food truck serving authentic [V]enezuelan cuisine.” The menu helpfully explains that an arepa, pronouned ah-ray-pah, is a “grilled corn patty opened up to make a pocket, crunchy on the outside and moist on the inside” and stuffed with your choice of filling.

While AZ’s menu predominantly consists of, well, arepas – thirteen variations in total – it also serves cachapas. A cachapa is a “thick, sweet, and creamy corn pancake.” It is folded over and filled with various meat and cheese fillings. For this, AZ has four different filling combinations.

Street Food

How, oh how, did arepas and cachapas not make it on a food truck’s menu sooner? Arepas and cachapas were meant to be on a food truck’s menu. They are, in other words, street food, or “the kind[] . . . that can be [prepared] in front of you and [is] meant to be eaten with your hands, without forks, while standing up.” In re Eat Wonky, 2 Catt. 5 (2011). Similar to sandwiches, they are easy to eat on the go. See, e.g., In re Wassub, 13 Catt. 1 (2012); In re Borinquen Lunch Box, 10 Catt. 3 (2012); In re Rolling Ficelle, 6 Catt. 3 (2012) (cases finding sandwiches to be street food). They are also considered to be street food in countries where they are popularly eaten. For example, arepas are classic street food in Columbia. See In re Barbecue Cart at Heidelberg Pastry Shoppe, 33 Catt. 1 (2014) (granting positive treatment to dishes that are considered to be street food in their countries of origin, like bratwurst in Germany).

Catira and La Clásica

With all signs pointing to a promising experience, I queued up in AZ’s line. Arepas and cachapas were, for me, something new. As I read through the various filling choices on the menu (“I want to try that. And that. That one, too!”), I planned second and third return visits even before taking my first bite.

Catira

Catira ($7.50). For my first arepa, I ordered the Catira, which was filled with shredded chicken and shredded cheddar cheese. It was served with a small container of guasacaca, a green sauce. All arepas also came with a small side item. Sides varied from visit to visit; I was given a cabbage and carrot slaw while my law clerk received a side of watermelon on a later date.

As AZ advertised, the grilled corn patty had a toasty texture on the outside and was soft on the inside. The shredded chicken filling, made with a sofrito sauce (typically garlic, onion, paprika, and tomatoes), was tasty on its own, but the flavor hit a high when topped off with AZ’s rich and creamy guasacaca. Usually made with avocado, onion, garlic, pepper, cilantro, parsley, vinegar, and olive oil, guasacaca is commonly described as the Venezuelan version of guacamole. After pouring the entire container of guasacaca over my arepa, I ate it with gusto, not even minding the drippings of the chicken’s sofrito sauce running messily down my hands.

La Clásica

La Clásica ($7.50). The classic cachapa was filled with a generous amount of queso de mano, a mild, soft cheese that reminded me of mozzarella. The sweet corn pancake surrounding it was similar in texture – soft and thick. While the first two bites of the cachapa were interesting – cheesy! sweet! fluffy! – the lack of variety in texture made the remaining bites monotonous.

Conclusion

AZ’s arepas and cachapas are a welcome, well-executed breath of fresh air to the food truck scene. While you might have to find the filling that matches your taste and texture preferences, there are plenty of choices to consider (think ingredients like ham, beef, chicken, black beans, plantains, tomato, and avocado), and eating your way through the menu to find your favorite will likely be a fun adventure. Find the truck at various locations in DC and Northern Virginia.

AFFIRMED. It is so ordered.

Z-Burger has expanded its six brick-and-mortar locations to a food truck (@ZBurgerMobile). The truck, which serves burgers, hot dogs, potato chips (no fries), and shakes, hit the streets of D.C. last month. While the truck may soon serve Montgomery County in Maryland, Northern Virginia is not yet in the plans.

And Back Again

Pan con Lechón

El Floridano is coming out of retirement. The sandwich truck will open its window once again after brick-and-mortar eatery Mothership closes later this month. The truck retired and the restaurant opened about two years ago. The Supreme Cart reviewed El Floridano’s pan con lechón back in 2011.

The writ of cartiorari is dismissed as improvidently granted.

It is so ordered.

SnoCream Shavery

Even before I knew that a new kind of frozen dessert was on board, SnoCream Shavery lured me in with its look alone. It was impossible not to notice an old school bus—not a truck, not a cart, but a 30-plus-foot-long bus—parked in a lot near my chambers. Long gone was the jarring school bus yellow color, and in its place was a wintery scene in soothing pastels. Two large creatures were painted on the bus’s side, and they managed to appear playful and welcoming despite the horns on their heads.

I circled around the bus a couple of times to make sure that, yes, customers were supposed to hop on the bus. Inside, only the driver’s seat remained; the passenger seats had been removed. Countertops ran along each side of the bus, just under the windows, for customers to eat on board. At the very back of the bus was the service station: a large machine that looked like a mix between an ice cream maker and a deli meat slicer, a freezer filled with cylinder-shaped blocks of flavored ice, and a toppings bar straight out of a frozen yogurt shop.

SnoCream Shavery

SnoCream Shavery describes its frozen treat as “a hybrid between ice cream and shaved ice.” It is made by shaving long, thin sheets from a flavored, frozen block. When the sheets fall into a cup, they sort of look like raw phyllo dough.

Ordering snocream is a three-step process. The first step is to select a flavor. Among others, choices include green tea, coffee, sweet milk, mango, and strawberry. Second, the customer picks two toppings, such as mochi, chocolate chips, M&M’S, granola, or fresh fruit. The final step is picking a sauce, like condensed milk, caramel, or chocolate, to drizzle over the top. A cup of snocream with two toppings is $5.

If snocream doesn’t entice you, or in case one dessert is not enough, SnoCream Shavery also has macarons on the menu. Flavors include unexpected offerings, such as lychee and Cinnamon Toast Crunch. A macaron is $2.

Street Food

Before I can review SnoCream Shavery’s menu of snocream and macarons, I must address the issue of street food.

It is well-settled that iced desserts are street food, or “the kind[] . . . that can be [prepared] in front of you and [is] meant to be eaten with your hands, without forks, while standing up.” In re Eat Wonky, 2 Catt. 5 (2011); see also In re Captain Cookie & The Milkman at Thomas Foolery, 23 Catt. 2 (2013) (ice cream sandwich is street food); In re Pleasant Pops, 21 Catt. 4 (2013) (popsicle is street food); In re Sinplicity, 9 Catt. 3 (2012) (ice cream is street food.)

On the other hand, baked goods, which are typically made ahead of time at a stationary site and then merely distributed from a mobile vehicle, are not street food. See, e.g., In re Sweetbites, 10 Catt. 1 (2012) (cupcake is not street food); In re That Cheesecake Truck, 10 Catt. 4 (2012) (cheesecake is not street food); Dangerously Delicious Pies, 4 Catt. 4 (2011) (pie is not street food).

The snocream’s street food status and the macaron’s non-street food status are to be considered positively and negatively, respectively, by this reviewing tribunal. See In re Barbecue Cart at Heidelberg Pastry Shoppe, 33 Catt. 1 (2014).

Green Tea SnoCream with Condensed Milk Drizzle

I ordered green tea snocream with mochi, M&M’S, and a drizzle of condensed milk. It took me more than a few minutes to settle on a combination, as my poor decision-making at FroZenYo on multiple occasions has taught me that one’s favorite flavors and toppings do not necessarily make sense together in a single cup. The woman in line with me seemed to have a similar challenge when ordering. After she listed off her chosen snocream flavor, toppings, and sauce, she questioned the staff in an unsure voice, “Does that sound okay?”

The green tea flavor was exactly what I expected and wanted—not too strong, not too sweet. The consistency, however, was disappointing. The description of snocream as a mix between shaved ice and ice cream is accurate, but unfortunately snocream lacks the best qualities of each. My cup of snocream lacked the coarse, crunchy texture of shaved ice and the creaminess of ice cream. The consistency—too little milk and too much water—just wasn’t satisfying. It was like drinking a watered-down cup of mocha on a Sunday morning while dreaming of a perfectly brewed cup.

While snocream itself isn’t a rich indulgence, SnoCream Shavery lets you make it one with toppings and sauces. At least one sinful choice—a candy topping or sweet sauce—goes a long way if your intention is to have a real dessert. Upon seeing how much (or rather, how little) condensed milk ended up on top of my snocream, I was asked by the staff whether I wanted more to be added. In retrospect, I should have taken the hint and said yes.

Green tea snocream with mochi, M&M’S, and condensed milk, plus taro macaron.

Taro Macaron

As I was handing over my credit card to be swiped, I threw in a taro macaron to my order. The choice was easy to make. As a general rule, anything taro-flavored on the menu has my name on it. I get this from my mother, who always sneaks in the purple ingredient to add a twist to her otherwise traditional Filipino dishes. Like adding taro to the crepe-like wrapper in fresh lumpia (a spring roll). Or mixing taro into her recipe for pandesal (a bread roll). Finding and eating taro-flavored dishes make me feel like I could be sitting at the restaurant my mom once dreamed of opening, one that had a menu starring purple-colored ingredients (not just taro, but purple beans, purple potatoes, and so on).

SnoCream Shavery’s execution of the trendy French confection was excellent. The taro macaron was easily eaten with the eyes first, with its soft lavender color, the sheen of perfectly smooth cookies, and a silky-looking filling. The cookies had a light, almost caramelized outer crust, while the center was soft, moist, and slightly chewy. The cookie-to-filling ratio was balanced—not too much, not too little—so that when I bit into the macaron, the filling didn’t squish out the sides. Each bite was so easy and clean that, while probably best eaten at a café with coffee, I had no problem perching the macaron between my fingers and nibbling away at it as I strolled down the street to the metro. In the end, the only problem that I had with the three bites of my macaron was that it was gone after three bites.

Conclusion

While the snocream from SnoCream Shavery is worth having once just to try something different, the macaron is the treat worth going back for again. Because SnoCream Shavery’s bus is much longer than D.C. regulations allow, you can only find it in Virginia. The bus has been making regular appearances on Thursday evenings at Clarendon’s weekly Food Truck Rally, which runs through the end of October.

AFFIRMED in part and REMANDED in part to SnoCream Shavery for revision. It is so ordered.

Heidelberg Pastry Shoppe (“Heidelberg”) is a German bakery and deli in Arlington, Virginia. On most days, one will encounter a very familiar scene there: display cases filled with cookies and cakes, customers looking for the take-a-number dispenser and waiting for their tickets to be called. The shop offers mainstays of any American bakery like black and white cookies and cold cut sandwiches, but its German roots come through at every turn—from its delicate marzipan treats, to open sandwiches with leberwurst, to imported grocery items like Mezzo Mix. What makes Heidelberg different is what it becomes on Saturdays during the summer and early fall.

Barbecue Cart at Heidelberg Pastry Shoppe

On Saturdays from May to October, Heidelberg sets up a barbeque cart in front of its shop. The barbeque cart embraces the best of Germany, offering a menu of various grilled wurst (bratwurst, knackwurst, weisswurst, and more), plus sauerkraut, German potato salad, and pretzels. The issue before the Supreme Cart is whether the barbeque cart outside Heidelberg’s shop is within our jurisdiction and eligible for review.

A. Jurisdictional Requirements

Under the Judiciary Act of 2011 (Cartiorari Act), the Supreme Cart has “exclusive jurisdiction of all food carts, trucks, and other transitory alimentary establishments.” Rule of Procedure 1-2 explains that the Cart’s jurisdiction extends to “all mobile gastronomic enterprises situated throughout those parts of (a) the County of Arlington, Virginia, (b) the District of Columbia, and (c) the City of Alexandria, Virginia, which are reasonably proximate to public transportation of a reasonably rapid and efficient character.”

It is undisputed that Heidelberg is located in Arlington, Virginia. Heidelberg’s accessibility by public transportation is also not being challenged. Heidelberg is along Metrobus lines 3A and 3Y. Alternatively, it is a healthy 30 minute walk from the Ballston Metro. The determination of jurisdiction in this case depends on the outcome of one question: Is Heidelberg’s barbecue cart a “mobile gastronomic enterprise”? This single question raises two more questions. First, is Heidelberg’s barbecue cart an enterprise? Second, is the barbecue cart mobile?

1. Heidelberg’s Barbecue Cart Is an Enterprise

Heidelberg’s barbecue cart is not the first food cart considered by this Court. In In re China Garden, 5 Catt. 1 (2012), the Cart denied jurisdiction to a dim sum pushcart that operated inside a Chinese restaurant because the pushcart was not equipped to serve outside the walls of the restaurant. Consequently, the pushcart could not properly be considered an independent enterprise. Unlike China Garden, Heidelberg’s barbecue cart can – and in fact, does – serve outside the walls of Heidelberg’s shop. Also indicating that the barbecue cart is an enterprise on its own, customers can complete transactions with the barbecue cart without ever stepping inside Heidelberg’s shop. Customers do not place orders using the shop’s normal practice of issuing deli ticket numbers. Rather, customers merely get in line in front of the cart, just as customers get in line in front of a food truck. Moreover, the barbecue cart is equipped with its own payment system, so customer may pay the staff at the barbecue cart and need not interact with the cashiers inside Heidelberg’s shop. Because the barbecue cart serves customers completely, and separately from Heidelberg’s shop, it is an enterprise.

2. Heidelberg’s Barbecue Cart Is Mobile

Although Heidelberg’s barbecue cart is consistently located in the same spot in front of Heidelberg’s shop, the cart is very much mobile. It must move to that spot and, after lunch service, move away from that spot. The selection of the same spot every Saturday does not make the barbecue cart immobile and permanently affixed to the ground. Cf. In re Maine Avenue Fish Market, 11 Catt. 3 (2012) (denying jurisdiction to a barge that was permanently docked in the same spot). Consider also that a mobile food truck could choose to park in the same neighborhood, on the same street, in the same spot, and it would still qualify as a mobile gastronomic enterprise. Indeed, at least one food truck in the Cart’s jurisdiction does this. See In re El Chilango, 12 Catt. 2 (2012) (reviewing a food truck that parks along the same residential street in Rosslyn, Virginia). What is true for a food truck must be true for a food cart.

Since Heidelberg’s barbecue cart is a mobile gastronomic enterprise, as that term is interpreted by this Court, the barbecue cart is within our jurisdiction and may be reviewed.

B. Street Food

The Supreme Cart distinguishes between food that is “street” in nature and food that is not. “Street food” is defined as “the kind[] . . . that can be cooked in front of you and [is] meant to be eaten with your hands, without forks, while standing up.” In re Eat Wonky, 2 Catt. 5 (2011). The Cart determines whether a dish is street food based on a “multifactor test,” including factors like whether the dish is traditionally considered to be street food. In re Hot People Food, 6 Catt. 4 (2012).

The Cart previously used a dish’s status as street food (or not as street food) to determine where the burden of proof in a case fell. Street food was given a presumption of affirmance, shifting the burden to the Cart to show that the dish was significantly flawed. Food held not to be “street” was given no presumption, and the dish had to stand on its own merits. This framework, however, led to inconsistent and unsatisfactory results. For example, street food dishes that the Justices did not wish to eat again were affirmed. So the Cart turned away from this framework. See In re Kohinoor Dhaba, 32 Catt. 1 (2014).

Although the Cart has moved away from the burden of proof framework of street food, whether a dish qualifies as street food is still crucial to the analysis by this Court. It has been suggested by at least one food truck owner that good mobile gastronomy is not related to whether a dish is street, but whether it is out of the ordinary and gourmet. In other words, not “normal.” The Cart agrees that mobile gastronomy can benefit from unusual menu offerings, but strongly disagrees that it must be “gourmet.” What is gourmet food? What is normal food? And why is normal food inferior to gourmet food? In this Cart’s view, there is only one kind of food that’s good, and that’s good food.

Serving something other than street food on the street ignores that the street vendor is offering not just an alternative choice in food, but an alternative choice in dining experience. The street eater typically eats while on the move, while sitting on the nearest park bench or building steps, while leaning against a ledge as a makeshift table. The experience is different from a sit-down meal at a full-service or fast-casual restaurant, different from carryout brought back to the office cafeteria or eaten at one’s desk. The food ought to embrace, not disregard, the environment in which it will be eaten, just like how a Frank Lloyd Wright house fits into the natural world around it.

Food truck fans in the area seem to agree that street vendors ought to serve street food. The DMV Food Truck Awards winner for Food Truck of the Year, Best New Food Truck, and Breakthrough Dish was Arepa Zone, a Venezulan food truck that serves sandwiches made with grilled corn patties. Arepas are not known for being gourmet. They are loved for their “simplicity and versatility” and are “popular go-to food.” They are eaten daily. They are—you guessed it—street food.

Bratwurst vendor in Berlin, Germany

Although this Cart will no longer grant a presumption in favor of affirmance for street food, a dish’s status as street food will be factored positively in its review. This is especially true for dishes that are considered to be street food in their countries of origin, like arepas in Venezuela, crepes in France, panipuri from India, and, relevant to the present case, bratwurst in Germany. The endurance of such dishes over time—much longer than the food truck trend in the United States—is a sign that they are suited to the dining needs and wants of a street eater.

C. Heidelberg’s Bratwurst and Weisswurst

Having determined that the Supreme Cart may properly exercise jurisdiction over Heidelberg’s barbecue cart and that the sausages on the cart’s menu are street food, I can now turn to the merits of the barbecue cart’s offerings. To properly review a sausage, this Cart must give consideration to the (1) casing, (2) preparation, (3) texture, and (4) taste. See In re Tops American Food Company, 12 Catt. 1 (2012); In re PORC, 4 Catt. 1 (2011).

I ordered the bratwurst and weisswurst from the barbecue cart. A wurst on a roll with sauerkraut is $6.50. Heidelberg’s sausages are sourced from Baltimore-based Binkert’s, a family business that specializes in traditional German meat products.

Bratwurst on a roll with sauerkraut and mustard

Of the various sausages listed on the menu, the bratwurst, or brat, is probably known best to the American palate. Heidelberg’s version was made with pork. The casing on the bratwurst was excellent. The snap that my teeth achieved upon first bite exceeded all expectations. Moreover, no fault could be found with Heidelberg’s preparation of the brat. The sausage was grilled with care and expertise—it was not dry, it was not overcooked. The slightly coarse texture of the sausage made every bite feel satisfyingly meaty. The flavor was pleasant and agreeable. This was a sausage made for no one to dislike.

The weisswurst is a relatively new sausage for me. I was first introduced to the weisswurst only a few months ago while on a trip to Bavaria. Heidelberg’s version of the white sausage, made with veal, shared the same positives that the brat exhibited: a good snap, nice browning from the grill. The texture was finer than the brat though, and smoother too. I didn’t mind the textural change, as it made the sausage seem even juicier. The flavor of the veal sausage was also on the mild side, but this made the sausage the perfect vehicle to let one’s choice of mustard shine. (Heidelberg had spicy deli mustard on hand at the barbecue cart.)

Weisswurst and sauerkraut

I liked the weisswurst and saw no issue with its preparation. I’m told by my law clerk, however, that I should have objected to the grilled weisswurst. Weisswurst is traditionally prepared the way I first experienced it in Bavaria: boiled, not grilled, and served with a soft, and preferably large, pretzel. Not having been raised with this tradition, and being a devotee of a good snap in a sausage, the grill marks on the weisswurst were beautiful to me, not sacrilegious.

Conclusion

I was so impressed with the quality of the bratwurst and weisswurst from Heidelberg’s barbecue cart that I was unable to leave without purchasing a few packs of sausage to take home. Even on a grill pan on my electric cooktop at home, the sausages were spectacular. (A third type of sausage, the bauernwurst, meaning “farmer sausage,” was a surprise hit for me. The sausage—made with pork, beef, and whole mustard seeds—was smoky, spicy, and incredibly juicy.)

Heidelberg sells Binkert’s German sausages in its deli case all year long, but to get one off the grill from the outdoor barbecue cart, you only have one month left. Go.

AFFIRMED. It is so ordered.

A study from the University of Michigan and Northwestern University explores various factors that contribute to the growth of food trucks in cities across the United States. According to the study, food trucks are more likely to be found in larger cities that have high rental costs and diverse populations. One factor that doesn’t matter? Bad weather.

Stationary Trailer near the National Mall

Food Trucks Spreading to the National Mall?

The Washington Post reports that the stationary trailers that for decades have supplied hungry D.C. tourists with hot dogs, pizza, and egg rolls will not be the only street vendors eligible to set up along Constitution and Independence Avenues. The lottery system that assigns the spots near the Mall will open up to food trucks in late October.

Food Trucks Spreading into the Brick and Mortar Scene

More food trucks are going brick and mortar. Captain Cookie and the Milk Man, Sweetbites, and Rito Loco are set to join a growing list of over 15 food trucks with brick and mortar locations. A recent Washington Post article compiles a list of food trucks that have already launched restaurants, permanent pop-ups, or kiosks.

The Supreme Cart has reviewed an ice cream sandwich from Captain Cookie and cupcake from Sweetbites. A review of a burrito from Rito Loco is expected in October Term 2014.

No. 121. SnoCream Shavery. Cartiorari granted on the questions of (1) green tea sno and (2) taro macaron.

No. 122. Rito Loco. Cartiorari granted on the question of Rib Rito.

Washingtonian reports that a medical marijuana truck is coming to D.C. on September 30 courtesy of Magical Butter, the maker of a gadget for medicinal butter, oil, sauces, and more. Licensed medical marijuana patients can expect marijuana-infused dishes like a “Danksgiving” turkey sandwich with gravy.

Four Seasons is bringing hotel food to the street. This fall, the Four Seasons Food Truck is traveling down the East Coast to serve “gourmet street food” created by chefs at Four Seasons hotels and resorts. The truck will hit the District on October 13. During the truck’s six-day stay, street diners can expect dishes that “highlight some of the best flavours” that D.C. has to offer. An example: a Grilled Kimcheese sandwich.

Another new truck this fall comes from Starbucks. Starbucks has launched a truck at Virginia’s James Madison University to supplement the multiple cafes already on campus. The mobile launch is part of a pilot program on three college campuses this fall. While one might expect the truck to move throughout the day to the highest concentrations of coffee-deprived students, it appears this is not the case. JMU’s Starbucks truck parks in the same spot; as one student explained, “Parking in one place negates the convenience the truck is supposed to bring.”

Food Trucks Win Local and National Attention

Arepa Zone

The winners of the DMV Food Truck Awards were announced on September 6 at the Curbside Cookoff festival. Arepa Zone, a Venezuelan food truck serving arepas and cachapas, was named Best New Food Truck and Food Truck of the Year. Readers can expect the Supreme Cart’s take on the truck in October Term 2014.

Two more names catching attention are dumpling truck Yumpling and Indian food truck Naan Stop. The trucks made a Buzzfeed list of 17 food trucks across the country that “are having too much pun” with their names. The Supreme Cart reviewed Yumpling’s dumplings—though made no mention of its punny name—last year.

Kohinoor Dhaba began (and still is) a brick and mortar restaurant in the Crystal City neighborhood of Virginia. During my penny-pinching days right after law school, I was a regular for the nondescript restaurant’s less-than-$10 buffet. Kohinoor Dhaba was the kind of dive that I missed most after leaving New York City and moving to Virginia. More than a time or two, I found myself seated on Kohinoor Dhaba’s worn banquet chair, a plastic knife and fork at the ready, looming over Styrofoam plates full of chicken tandoori, chick peas, and naan.

Kohinoor Dhaba

When I first saw a bright orange food truck called Kohinoor Dhaba, I didn’t immediately connect it to the Crystal City restaurant. But as soon as I made the connection, nostalgia drove me to the truck’s ordering window.

India is famous (or infamous, if you ask the wrong person) for its street food. Without fail my mouth waters at the thought of handheld bites like pani puri, a delicate, golf-ball-sized fried shell filled with chick peas, onions, and flavored water. The menu for the Kohinoor Dhaba food truck, unfortunately, lacked the best offerings of Indian street vendors and very much resembled its brick and mortar menu.

With the choice of restaurant food from the truck, I opted for the $10 lamb biryani – lamb “sautéed in herbs & mild spices with fragrant rice.” The biryani came with a salad of greens and a tomato slice, plus two containers of yogurt sauce.

Lamb Biryani

The biryani was flavorful. The lamb was tender, and the long grain rice was fluffy and well spiced. When the dish reached the peak of a slow-building heat, the yogurt cut it and offered some coolness, as well as freshness with its specks of mint and cilantro.

There was nothing wrong with Kohinoor Dhaba’s lamb biryani. It was tasty and filling. Would I order it from the restaurant? Yes. Would I order it again from the truck?

That’s a very different question. No. While the biryani was perfectly fine, it was not exciting enough (or, frankly, cheap enough) to inspire a return visit to the truck.

A huge serving of rice is just not my idea of street food. This court has defined street food as “the kind[] . . . that can be cooked in front of you and [is] meant to be eaten with your hands, without forks, while standing up.” In re Eat Wonky, 2 Catt. 5 (2011). Biryani does not meet this definition. For one, the dish can only be reheated, not cooked, in front of you. Biryani is a time-intensive dish. Another Arlington restaurant needs advance notice from the customer and four hours to prepare it.

But this court’s street food determination does not end there. In In re Hot People Food, 6 Catt. 4 (2012), we added another layer. We explained that our definition was intended to be a “multifactor test to guide and direct our analysis.” An additional factor not mentioned in the original definition was whether the dish was traditionally considered to be street food. Guided by this factor, biryani might qualify as street food by this court.

Our street food analysis continued further. As explained in In re Big Cheese, 6 Catt. 2 (2012), the “street food” question was a threshold matter to determine the burden of proof in a case before the Supreme Cart. A presumption of affirmance arose for true street food. On the other hand, if a dish did not qualify as street food, no presumption arose, and the dish was required to prove its own merits. Kohinoor Dhaba’s biryani, a solid execution that suffered from no major flaws, would pass this test whether or not it was found to be street food.

Is this the correct result when the Justice admits that she would not return to Kohinoor Dhaba’s truck for a second helping of lamb biryani? Of course not. It cannot be. A test that leads to such results must be flawed and unusable. It has become clear that our burden of proof framework for street food has no place.

Kohinoor Dhaba’s lamb biryani is better suited for its sit-down restaurant, not its food truck. I am sad to say that the food truck scene has become an uninspired mobile food court that has very little to do with street food and more to do with quick-service restaurant food. What else can be concluded when TGI Fridays and Starbucks have entered the food truck business? Food trucks that offer brick and mortar menus (and yes, at restaurant prices) have failed the promise of street food.

I will not attempt to describe the type of food truck or type of menu that would reach the heights of street food’s full potential, but I will know it when I see it. Cf. Jacobellis v. Ohio, 378 U.S. 184 (1964) (Stewart, J., concurring). Kohinoor Dhaba’s lamb biryani isn’t it.

AFFIRMED in part and REMANDED in part to Kohinoor Dhaba for revision. It is so ordered.

BBQ Bus

Eater DC reports that BBQ Bus will open a restaurant at Denizens Brewing Company in Silver Spring, Maryland. BBQ Bus plans to expand its menu to include “deep-fried items, wings and items previously only offered seasonally, like a chicken pot pie.” Chief Justice Jeremy reviewed the BBQ Bus Sampler, including pulled pork, spiced chicken, and sliced brisket, last year.

B&Ms Get Food Trucks

Eater DC reports that a food truck from Nutella will be coming to the District this weekend. The truck is celebrating Nutella’s 50th anniversary. The hazelnut spread has already proven to be a handy ingredient in mobile treats. Earlier this year, Justice Cattleya tried a Nutella doughnut made by Astro Doughnuts & Fried Chicken.

The TGI Fridays food truck is also coming to Washington, DC. The truck will stop in the District at the end of the month as part of its Summer of Fridays Road Tour. The truck will serve up free tastes of “handcrafted goodness,” including Ahi Tuna Crisps and American All-Star Sliders.

The aroma of freshly fried chicken wafting from Henhouse’s window promised a satisfying lunch. Unfortunately, Henhouse didn’t deliver on that promise.

Henhouse

Henhouse, a truck painted as bright as a red barn after a fresh spring coat, serves the classics you’d expect to find at your local neighborhood joint. Besides fried chicken, choices include crispy chicken and fish sandwiches, chicken tenders, chicken wings, and fried shrimp. If Henhouse were a brick-and-mortar diner, it would be the kind of place where Guy Fieri would show up for a taping of Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives. This mental association with Mr. Fieri perhaps should have been my first clue of probable disappointment. (Mr. Fieri and I disagree over diners in the area. He liked Metro 29 Diner. I think Metro 29 Diner is to McDonald’s what the Washington Post’s Tom Sietsema thinks La Tagliatella is to the Olive Garden.)

Street Food Test

This court has consistently held that sandwiches are street food. See, e.g., In re Wassub, 13 Catt. 1 (2012); In re Borinquen Lunch Box, 10 Catt. 3 (2012); In re Rolling Ficelle, 6 Catt. 3 (2012). Because Henhouse’s chicken sandwich qualifies as street food, I am bound to affirm this case unless I can demonstrate a significant flaw with the sandwich. See In re Big Cheese, 6 Catt. 2 (2012) (explaining the burden of proof for cases before the Supreme Cart). I can.

Chicken Sandwich ($6.99)

Chicken Sandwich

I ordered Henhouse’s chicken sandwich, which came with lettuce and mayo. This very basic combination was disappointing. Even the comparable chicken sandwich from McDonald’s offers tomato. Or a pickle would have been nice.

Of the bun used for Henhouse’s sandwich, I will only say that it was as fresh and soft as a supermarket bun can be. It was neither so good nor so bad to warrant anything further.

The actual size of the chicken in the sandwich was a pleasant surprise. The large, thick cut extended well past the edges of the bun. The sandwich had enough meat, in fact, that it was sufficient for a meal without the addition of a side dish, like fries or cole slaw.

While Henhouse’s chicken got high marks on quantity, it fell short on quality. The chicken was fried well (crispy, not dry), but it was not seasoned well. It was just very, very bland. Henhouse provided condiments (e.g., barbecue sauce, hot sauce) that would have added much-needed flavor, but condiments should not be relied on to mask a poorly executed chicken. See also In re Bada Bing, 5 Catt. 2 (2012). Condiments should not be expected to fix any foodstuff. See In re Mac’s Donuts, 26 Catt. 1 (2013).

So, for its bland chicken, the case must be

REMANDED to Henhouse for revision. It is so ordered.

Not quite being fanatics of the athletic arts, neither justice of this Supreme Cart has any great experience with the Verizon Center. But we have recently been informed that vendors roam its halls purveying Chick-fil-A chicken sandwiches, albeit for “a mere twice the normal rate.” The question before us today is whether these vendors fall within our jurisdiction.

As we have reiterated time and time again, the jurisdiction of this Cart extends to “all mobile gastronomic enterprises situated throughout those parts of (a) the County of Arlington, Virginia, (b) the District of Columbia, and (c) the City of Alexandria, which are reasonably proximate to public transportation of a reasonably rapid and efficient character.” The second element is clearly met as the Verizon Center is situated within the District of Columbia. The third, too, is met in so much as the Verizon Center is directly atop the metro’s Gallery Place station. But is the roaming Chick-fil-A vendor a “mobile gastronomic enterprise”?

Chick-fil-A Vendor at the Verizon Center

Chick-fil-A is clearly an “enterprise” and clearly “gastronomic.” But is it “mobile”? To be deemed a “mobile gastronomic enterprise,” the enterprise itself must be mobile, not simply its gastronomy. In re China Garden, 5 Catt. 1 (2012). We have held, however, that jurisdiction does exist in the case of a pushcart inside an unaffiliated event hall because the cart is its own enterprise not affiliated with the event hall. In re Dippin’ Dots, 10 Catt. 5 (2012). Applied here, if there is a principal stationary Chick-fil-A vending location from which vendors roam the remainder of the Verizon Center, the roving vendor cannot be held to be truly “mobile.” He would be more like the dim sum cart in China Garden. However, if the roving vendor is the enterprise itself, then jurisdiction exists.

As I have stated, we, the justices, are not quite fanatical about the athletic arts. Not having visited the interior of the Verizon Center for a sporting event, we are not sure whether the roaming vendors are more like China Garden’s dim sum cart or Dippin’ Dot’s event hall cart. However, given supplemental jurisdiction, we need not answer that question.

We have held that an enterprise sharing a “sister” relationship with a true mobile gastronomic enterprise may still fall within our jurisdiction, regardless of whether the precise enterprise at issue is “mobile.” Thus, we have extended jurisdiction to mall kiosks and restaurants. In this case, Chick-fil-A exists elsewhere in the metropolitan area as a true mobile gastronomic enterprise. SUNdeVICH v. SUNdeVICH, 22 Catt. 1 (2013); In re Curbside Cupcakes, 20 Catt. 4 (2013). Therefore, regardless of the nature of the roaming vendor, we may properly lay jurisdiction over him.

Passing to the merits of the case, however, we must pass on this case. Apparently, admission to the inner chambers of the Verizon Center on a “game day” requires purchase of a ticket. As I have mentioned twice now, we are not fanatics of athletics. The prospect of purchasing admission to a sporting event simply to sample a roving Chick-fil-A vendor seemed unlikely. The terror of milling about in a vast throng of inebriated and enthusiastic individuals who do seem to enjoy such sporting events seemed daunting. And so we abandoned our case and instead sought sustenance elsewhere, in our case in a bowl of savory duck noodle soup around the corner at Chinatown Express.

Accordingly, this case is ultimately

DISMISSED.

No. 118. Kohinoor Dhaba. Cartiorari granted on the question of lamb biryani.

Peruvian Brothers

Opinion of JUSTICE CATTLEYA, in chambers.

Peruvian Brothers has a lot to celebrate. Earlier this week, it marked its one-year anniversary. Earlier this month, USA Today named it one of the District’s top 10 food trucks. It was also voted this month by Washington City Paper’s readers as the best food truck of 2014.

One look at the truck, and it’s easy to see why food truck aficionados have taken a liking to Peruvian Brothers. In a field crowded with kabobs and Asian fusion dishes, its Peruvian offerings are something different. It also has the frills of a business that seems to have considered all of the details, like sleek white food boxes sealed with brand-popping logo stickers and a website with images that look straight out of a professional photo shoot. 

Of course, none of that matters here in the halls of justice. All that matters is the food. Good food remains good even if prepared by a little-known purveyor or served in plain packaging. And, of course, bad food remains bad even if it comes from a popular purveyor or in fancy packaging.

Branded packaging

Fortunately, Peruvian Brothers is not trying to hide bad food behind its pretty exterior. The food—I had the Empanada de Pollo and Chancaca Bread Pudding—was good. Quite good in the case of the latter.

Before I can elaborate on the empanada and bread pudding, I must address where the burden of proof lies in each case. Because empanadas are true street food, I must affirm Peruvian Brothers’ empanada unless I can prove a significant flaw. On the other hand, bread pudding does not meet this court’s definition of street food, so this dish must prove its own merits. See In re Eat Wonky, 2 Catt. 5 (2011) (defining street food as “the kind[] . . . that can be cooked in front of you and [is] meant to be eaten with your hands, without forks, while standing up”); In re Big Cheese, 6 Catt. 2 (2012) (discussing the burden of proof for street food); see also In re Caribbean Café Truck, 21 Catt. 1 (2013) (explaining that empanadas are street food).

Now on to the food.

Empanada de Pollo

Peruvian Brothers serves its Empanada de Pollo with wedges of fresh lime and a light dusting of powdered sugar, as is traditionally done in Peru. The pastry achieved a beautiful golden color and flakiness, and it was neither too thick nor too thin compared with the meat filling that it encased. While the powdered sugar initially seemed out of place, it added a little sweetness to the otherwise savory dish. The effect wasn’t memorable enough, however, to say that it was an essential component, and I would have been just as satisfied without it.

For me, the best bite of the empanada was not the first one, but the second. The first bite broke through the pastry and exposed the chicken filling, allowing it to be doused with lime juice. The lime added a tangy finish and a little moisture to the second bite. The chicken filling needed it. Although well-seasoned and tasty, it leaned on the dry side. This was more likely due to the style of preparation (chopped) of the chicken filling rather than to any execution problems by Peruvian Brothers. I must admit that I am not a fan of chopped meat. It’s texturally uninteresting. Even worse, chopped meat, especially when finely chopped, looks too much like canned pet food.

This unappetizing thought went away as soon as I put a spoonful of Chancaca bread pudding into my mouth. My thoughts quickly turned to the syrupy treat. This was no boring, dry bread pudding. Soft and moist bread was soaked through with the taste of honey, cinnamon, and cloves. Walnuts and raisins were mixed in and added texture. It was wonderfully rich and filling.

. . . So much so that half of it was enough. As bread pudding is naturally heavy, the portion size seemed too large. Luckily, Peruvian Brothers serves the bread pudding in a resealable plastic container that can be stored in the fridge for a second round. It’s worth doing this, even if you’re hungry enough to finish it off in one sitting. Somehow, the bread pudding manages to be even better the next day.

For the reasons above, Peruvian Brothers’ Empanada de Pollo and Chancaca Bread Pudding are

AFFIRMED. It is so ordered.

Phonation

Opinion of JUSTICE CATTLEYA, in chambers.

From across Farragut Square, Phonation’s truck—painted white with blue signage—slightly resembled a classic ice cream truck. I was surprised when I got close enough to read the truck’s name and see its menu of Vietnamese pho and bánh mì. My surprise, however, was quickly forgotten as I began to picture in my mind’s eye a beautiful bánh mì sandwich.

Phonation’s picture menu.

(This was not difficult to do at the instigation of Phonation’s menu, which included large, color photos.)

Phonation describes itself as “the real deal on wheels with fast serving, delicious PHO and gigantic BANH MI.” Pho may be ordered with either chicken or beef, and the available bánh mì sandwich fillings are BBQ chicken or BBQ pork. All entrée items are $9.

I ordered the BBQ pork bánh mì. Because a bánh mì sandwich is “street food” under the Supreme Cart’s case law, e.g., In re Lemongrass, 7 Catt. 1 (2012) (holding that a bánh mì is street food); In re BONMi, 25 Catt. 2 (2013) (same); In re PhoWheels, 24 Catt. 1 (2013) (same), my review must assume that Phonation’s sandwich should be affirmed unless it suffers from a significant flaw. See In re Eat Wonky, 2 Catt. 5 (2011) (defining street food as “the kind[] . . . that can be cooked in front of you and [is] meant to be eaten with your hands, without forks, while standing up”); In re Big Cheese, 6 Catt. 2 (2012) (discussing the burden of proof for street food). Phonation’s bánh mì sandwich suffers from no such fatal flaw. It is a solid rendition.

BBQ Pork Bánh Mì

Pork. While I typically prefer grilled pork in my bánh mì sandwiches, Phonation’s heavily sauced pork was tender and flavorful. But as the sauce was still on my tongue several hours later, it was almost too flavorful.

Toppings. The toppings included a slice of cucumber, thickly cut radish and carrot, plus cilantro. The toppings did their job of adding freshness and crunch to the sandwich. The freshness was cut a little by the richness of the mayo. I normally don’t like mayo on my bánh mì sandwiches, but it worked here by balancing out the strong sauce on the meat. The sandwich was finished off with some heat from thinly sliced jalapenos (and Sriracha, which I requested).

Bread. The choice of bread was good, but not perfect. The bread had the requisite softness inside and crustiness outside, but it seemed more like an Italian sub roll than a French baguette.

Sandwich cut in half.

Bottom line: Phonation’s BBQ pork bánh mì sandwich wasn’t the best I’ve had, but it certainly wasn’t the worst either. While the heavy sauce on the pork, inclusion of mayo, and sub-like bread wouldn’t be part of my dream bánh mì, Phonation nonetheless served up a tasty lunch.

AFFIRMED. It is so ordered.

No. 116. Peruvian Brothers. Cartiorari granted on the questions of (1) Empanada de Pollo and (2) Chancaca Bread Pudding.

Fojol Brothers, circa 2012.

Washington City Paper reports Fojol Brothers, which we reviewed in 2012, closed the last of its three 60-something-year-old trucks this past Friday after the transmission finally died. The business’s other two trucks went off the road earlier this winter due to hefty repair costs and difficulty finding replacement parts. “The amount of money to keep them all running, we’re just not seeing the return,” founder Justin Vitarello told WCP. But the business isn’t closing up for good. Vitarello plans to experiment with a line of Fojol Brothers-branded products, including “lassipops, spiced rice flour chips, and jars of sauces and chutneys.”

If you’ve ever gone out for barbeque in the area during the last 20 or so years, chances are you’ve been to (or at the very least thought about going to) Rocklands. From 1990 to 2007, Rocklands opened four brick and mortar locations throughout the District, Virginia, and Maryland. Then, in early 2013, Rocklands launched a food truck.

Rocklands food truck, off the road for the day.

Once Rocklands added wheels to its operations, this Supreme Cart gained jurisdiction to review not only the food truck but also the brick and mortar locations. See SUNdeVICH v. SUNdeVICH, 22 Catt. 1 (2013) (extending the Cart’s jurisdiction to “a brick-and-mortar restaurant that concurrently operates a food cart or truck when that brick-and-mortar offers the same menu items as the food cart or truck”). With the choice of several locations, I picked a non-mobile one (the brick and mortar in Arlington) over the mobile one because (1) my visit fell on a bitterly cold day, and more importantly, (2) the truck was closed and parked outside in the lot.

Looking at the menu, I immediately noticed an advantage in choosing to dine at one of the brick and mortar locations rather than the food truck. While the truck’s menu rotates side dishes and typically offers only a couple per day, the restaurant menu has a line-up of over ten options, including must-have barbecue sides like coleslaw, macaroni and cheese, baked beans, and potato salad. I found it difficult to pass on the plethora of side dishes and made a meal out of a few: corn pudding, cucumber salad, macaroni salad, and cornbread.

Everything on my plate was perfectly fine, but only the cornbread made me pause and savor. It was sweet, light, fluffy, and moist. The scoop of corn pudding—a baked mash of creamed corn, cornmeal, onion, and cheese—was soft, but not quite creamy. The salad of cucumber, red onion, and mint, with a simple dressing of oil and vinegar, met its promise of a crunchy and refreshing side, but it seemed to skimp on the red onion and mint. The macaroni salad was the most forgettable. The noodles were not overcooked and still had a nice bite, but the salad tasted heavy on mustard and was a little dry.

This court has already held that a barbeque platter with sides is not street food. See In re BBQ Bus, 20 Catt. 1 (2013); see also In re Eat Wonky, 2 Catt. 5 (2011) (defining street food). Therefore, to affirm, Rocklands’s barbeque sides must prove their own worth. See In re Big Cheese, 6 Catt. 2 (2012) (discussing burden of proof). For the reasons stated above, not all of the sides considered today have met the burden of proof.

The case is

AFFIRMED in part and REMANDED in part to Rocklands for revision. It is so ordered.

Movie poster courtesy of ‘Dog Days’ documentary.

Washington-based filmmakers Laura Waters Hinson and Kasey Kirby have released a well-received, partially-Kickstarted documentary, Dog Days, about “a novice entrepreneur and an immigrant hotdog vendor tak[ing] a joint leap of faith during the recession to keep the American dream alive.” The film has already been screened at several festivals and has been chosen as an official selection at the Atlanta Film Festival, which runs March 28 through April 6, 2014.

As Tim Carman writes in a profile in the Washington Post, the film tracks “Siyone, a refugee from East Africa who supports her family with a sidewalk cart, and Coite Manuel, an unemployed engineer who launched Food Chain to help vendors like Siyone expand their menus beyond dirty-water dogs, chips, cookies and candy.”

From the film’s press kit:

Plunging into the colorful, micro-entrepreneurial world of street vending in the nation’s capital, Dog Days follows two unlikely business partners as they challenge the status quo by offering a gourmet alternative to the ubiquitous hot dog. Coite, an unemployed industrial engineer with no kitchen experience, enlists his idiosyncratic, harp-playing Aunt Deane to launch a new business, “Food Chain.” Staking his meager life savings on the new venture, he hopes to help the city’s 300 remaining street vendors appeal to consumers in a competitive culinary market. In the process he must battle the DC government’s regulatory stranglehold over his industry. The stakes intensify when Coite starts working with his first vendor, Siyone — a former refugee from East Africa, hot dog vendor, and mother of four. She takes a risk and sells Coite’s jerk chicken wraps, straining already tense relationships with her suppliers. Will Coite’s gastronomic vision turn into a street-food sensation? Or will hostile regulations and a tough economic climate put his dreams on hold? Will Siyone’s desire to build her small business be enough to provide for her growing family? Filmed over the course of four years, Dog Days journeys to a world within a world where the underdogs of DC street vending speak for a nation wondering if the American Dream can still become a reality.

Watch the official trailer below:

The bottom line up front: Korean BBQ Taco Box (“KBBQTB”) is a food truck for people who look for variety and big portions, but not necessarily authenticity, in a meal.

Korean BBQ Taco Box

KBBQTB’s fusion menu features box lunches made of five different components. The first is the meat: Korean fried chicken, bulgogi, spicy pork, or chicken teriyaki. All four meats may be ordered over white rice. The last three may also be served in a flour tortilla taco. The second component of the box is a salad with ginger dressing. Third is a spicy chicken wing. Fourth is a fried cheese roll. A varying Korean-influenced bite, such as another roll or a dumpling, completes the box. Boxes range between $8 and $10.

I opted for a rice box with Korean fried chicken. In addition to the salad, chicken wing, and fried cheese roll that come with all boxes, the final Korean-influenced side in the box on the day of my visit was a kimchi dumpling.

As it is well settled by this reviewing court that rice-based platters are not street food (i.e., food that can be cooked in front of you and is meant to be eaten with your hands, without forks, while standing up), KBBQTB’s box must prove the quality of its offerings without the aid of any presumption that it should be upheld as street-service-worthy. See In re Eat Wonky, 2 Catt. 5 (2011) (defining street food); In re Big Cheese, 6 Catt. 2 (2012) (discussing burden of proof); see, e.g., In re NY Famous Kabob, 7 Catt. 3 (2012) (denying street food status to a platter of meat over rice); In re Mediterranean Delights, 20 Catt. 2 (2013) (same). The merits of the separate components of KBBQTB’s box are addressed below.

Rice Box with Korean Fried Chicken

Korean Fried Chicken and Rice. A fillet of chicken battered and fried, then cut into easy-to-eat strips. While KBBQTB’s version was crispy (surprisingly so, given that it was trapped in a Styrofoam container while I walked back to the court), don’t expect Bonchon’s extra-crunchy Korean double fried chicken. The meat was not dry; neither was it juicy. But no matter, as the chicken strips were covered with generous drizzles of spicy mayo and sweet teriyaki sauces. The paired white rice was fluffy and sticky, just the way I have always liked it. The meal’s greatest indulgence was mixing the excess mayo and teriyaki sauces into the rice. Given my confession of my favorite meal as a child—white rice smothered with another condiment (ketchup)—this should not be surprising.

Salad with Ginger Dressing. A basic salad of iceberg lettuce. The dressing was not shy on the ginger, and the overall effect was wonderfully fresh and biting. However, the consistency of the dressing was too thick. While salad dressing should be thick enough to stick to the greens, it should still be liquid enough to toss with the greens.

Spicy Chicken Wing. Fried chicken wing (or drumstick) tossed in KBBQTB’s spicy sauce. Well-executed. The skin was crispy, and the chicken was moist. The sauce coating the wing was a nice balance of sweet and spicy. Boxes are supposed to come with one wing, but somehow I got two. Normally I frown upon such inconsistency, but in this case, lucky me.

Fried Cheese Roll. KBBQTB boxes come with two pieces of a fried cheese roll that is topped with a spicy mayo sauce. Unfortunately, I couldn’t tell that cheese was an ingredient in this dish. To me, this just tasted like fried batter covered in a sweet, creamy mayo.

Kimchi Dumpling. A fried, rectangular-shaped packet filled with kimchi. A nice little bite, but the ratio of dumpling skin to kimchi should have weighed in favor of more kimchi. Because, really, the answer to everything is more kimchi.

The bottom line, repeated: A lot of food. Several different items to please a palate that gets bored from one dish. While not terribly authentic or creative, KBBQTB’s Korean fried chicken rice box sticks close to a tried-and-true strategy: the more fried food, and the more mayo, the better. While your arteries might complain, are you really going to?

AFFIRMED. It is so ordered. 

No. 113. Rocklands Barbeque and Grilling Company. Cartiorari granted on the questions of Texas corn pudding, minted cucumber salad, Mason-Dixon macaroni salad, and cornbread.

No. 114. Chick-fil-A Vendor at the Verizon Center. Cartiorari granted on the question of whether chicken sandwich is within the jurisdiction of the Cart.

Seoul Food

Seoul Food and Rolling Ficelle Are Out

After three years on the road, one of our favorite food trucks, Seoul Food, is closing down on March 1. The owners of Seoul Food opened a restaurant of the same name at 2514 University Boulevard West in Silver Spring, Maryland. Over the years, we’ve loved their winter soups, their mushroom and pork donburi, and especially their steak bibimbap, which we selected as one of the best of mobile gastronomy. We wish Seoul Food luck with their brick-and-mortar.

Another favorite, Rolling Ficelle, closes tomorrow, February 28. Two years ago, Justice Cattleya raved about their Gorky ficelle.

And CapMac Is Back

We reported back in December that CapMac was closing. Now it turns out CapMac is coming back under new ownership. Washington City Paper reports the new owner has the old recipes and doesn’t plan to “change a thing” but may add a few new touches, including regular specials that showcase his own culinary tastes, including a love of Latin cuisine.

And Further Afield

Outside the area, IBM and the Institute of Culinary Education have a food truck serving up computer-generated recipes. IBM’s calling it “cognitive cooking,” a form of “computational creativity” that seeks to devise new flavor combinations based on a database of recipes and software models of the psychology of how we perceive taste. As a profile in the New Yorker put it, “[t]he goal of this computer isn’t to retrieve what is already known but to discover something new.” Sounds pretty cool. Check it out on IBM’s website.

Several months ago, I made a sua sponte appearance at PhoWheels for bánh mì. I was pleasantly surprised by the truck’s tofu bánh mì on a baguette, but disappointed by the pork belly bánh mì on a doughnut. See In re PhoWheels, 24 Catt. 1 (2013). After the decision was announced, PhoWheels participated in general commenting per the Supreme Cart’s Rule of Procedure 2-7.

Comment from PhoWheels

“Come back & try the tacos,” PhoWheels said of their menu item that apparently always sells out. After returning to try the musubi tacos, I not only believe this claim; I completely understand why.

PhoWheels’s regular menu offers tacos with the same fillings that one can get on a bánh mì (tofu, pork belly, or chicken). A fourth option (musubi) can be found on the menu as a special. Normally I never order so-called “specials.” See In re DC Empanadas, 1 Catt. 3 (2011) (expressing skepticism of specials). But PhoWheels has been serving musubi tacos off and on since August of last year, so the dish doesn’t feel like an experiment gone awry or like old ingredients in a poor disguise. With no alarm bells ringing in my head, I ordered the musubi tacos. An order of two was $9.

Musubi Tacos

What is a musubi taco exactly? PhoWheels takes a piece of roti canai (Malaysian flatbread) and wraps it around cubed spam, thin slices of Chinese sausage, pickled radishes and carrots, and rice, and then tops it all off with nori, wasabi sesame seeds, and a generous drizzle of Kewpie mayo.

The regular reader knows by now that fusion dishes more often than not confuse me. See, e.g., In re TaKorean, 1 Catt. 4 (2011). But finally (finally!) I have found the complete opposite of fusion confusion. Even without the Supreme Cart’s presumption of affirmance for street food like tacos, I would enthusiastically affirm. See In re Eat Wonky, 2 Catt. 5 (2011) (defining street food); In re Big Cheese, 6 Catt. 2 (2012) (discussing burden of proof); In re District Taco, 21 Catt. 2 (2013) (finding tacos to be street food). PhoWheels’s musubi taco was the most unique, cohesive, and balanced fusion dish that I have ever encountered as a Justice of mobile gastronomy.

The vehicle holding everything together—the Malaysian flatbread—was divine. It was buttery and flaky. On the inside, it was fluffy and chewy. The composition reminded me of a beautifully thick and chewy Chinese dumpling wrapper, but with a slightly crisp exterior. Its malleability allowed it to snugly envelop the taco filling, making something that very easily could have been messy to eat, not messy at all.

The filling was an explosion of sweet (from the Chinese sausage), tangy (from the pickled radishes and carrots), spicy (from the wasabi sesame seeds), and salty (from the spam and nori). It was a mix of soft and warm (rice), and cold and crunchy (pickled radishes and carrots). And the rich and creamy Kewpie mayo was the cherry on top.

Interestingly–and this is going to sound like a bad thing–the meats (spam and Chinese sausage) were not the stars here. They were overpowered by the nori and wasabi sesame seeds. One might think that the proper response to this would be to increase the portions of spam and Chinese sausage in the taco, but I’m not sure that this would be right. I so enjoyed the salty and earthy flavors of the nori and wasabi that I just didn’t care about the individual contributions of the spam and Chinese sausage. However, what I would change is PhoWheels’s preparation of the spam. I found the cubed pieces of spam to be very soft, and I would have preferred it if they had been fried until crispy.

Overall, PhoWheels’s musubi taco was bold and inspired. Must try? I think so. Would I return for it again? I already have. I would consider this to be PhoWheels’s signature dish, and if I had a vote in the matter, I’d promote this from the specials menu to the regular menu ASAP.

AFFIRMED. It is so ordered.

Astro Doughnuts & Fried Chicken

Last week I reviewed the crème brûlée doughnut from Astro Doughnuts & Fried Chicken. See In re Astro Doughnuts & Fried Chicken, 28 Catt. 2 (2014). Today I turn my attention to Astro’s Nutella doughnut.

Menu Chalkboard

When I first stood in front of Astro’s menu chalkboard, I paused for a moment and pretended to weigh the options. In reality, I knew that I was going to order a crème brûlée doughnut because it had become the breakout star of Astro’s menu. It has been reported that Astro’s shop goes through as many as 4,000 crème brûlée doughnuts per week. It was my duty, I felt, to review it. For my second doughnut (of course there had to be a second), I was determined to pick a flavor for no one but myself. And my stomach only had eyes for the Nutella doughnut.

Nutella and I are a dangerous pair. My deep love for it has led to its banishment from my home. It can have no place in my cupboard, or else I would spread it on bananas for breakfast, infuse it into hot chocolate for second breakfast, add it into a crêpe for elevenses, melt it into ice cream after lunch, pair it with shortbread cookies for afternoon tea, bake it into brownies after dinner, and eat a spoonful—straight up—after supper. (Yes, I follow the meal schedule of a hobbit.)

Nutella Doughnut ($2.50)

Overall, Astro’s Nutella doughnut was glad-I-tried-it good, but not must-have-it-again great.

Crème Brûlée & Nutella Doughnuts

The good: The Nutella glaze was silky, creamy, and stuck to your fingers in the best kind of way. It was the complete opposite of the cold and stiff glaze on Entenmann’s Rich Frosted Donuts (my personal favorite as a junk-food-loving kid), which typically cracked and fell apart when I bit into it. Flavor-wise, Astro’s Nutella flavoring was strong and rich and tasted unmistakably like chocolate and hazelnut. Astro even garnished the donut with hazelnuts, but the visual clue to the flavoring was wholly unnecessary, as the sweet scent of Nutella filled my senses even before my first bite.

The not-so-good: The doughnut was much too dense. Instead of a light and fluffy doughnut, or even a heavier yet moist cake doughnut, Astro’s Nutella doughnut was very bready. Texturally, it was not what I expected, or wanted. See also In re Pho Wheels, 24 Catt. 1 (2013) (finding Astro doughnut, used for a sandwich, to be thick and dry).

Conclusion

Because Astro’s Nutella doughnut is not street food, the doughnut must prove its own merits. See In re Eat Wonky, 2 Catt. 5 (2011) (defining street food); In re Big Cheese, 6 Catt. 2 (2012) (discussing burden of proof); Astro Doughnuts & Fried Chicken, 28 Catt. 2 (holding Astro’s doughnut not to be street food). Although the Nutella flavoring was spot on, the doughnut’s bready texture was a significant shortcoming, and so the case is

AFFIRMED in part and REMANDED in part to Astro Doughnuts & Fried Chicken for revision.

A new breakfast option has come to my neighborhood. This was welcomed news to me, as I don’t live in a particularly exciting neighborhood. While other Justices have settled in hip neighborhoods—Chief Justice Jeremy, for example, calls Adams Morgan home and Justice Sonia Sotomayor of the Supreme Court lives off of U Street—I chose Rosslyn in Northern Virginia. The first metro stop outside of the District, Rosslyn is conveniently situated to get to great eateries in D.C. and Virginia. But Rosslyn itself isn’t filled with many gastronomic gems—whether mobile or brick-and-mortar—at present. (By my count, there may just be two: El Chilango and Pho 75.)

Astro Doughnuts & Fried Chicken

So I was pleased to see a food truck called Astro Doughnuts & Fried Chicken lined up on N. Lynn Street one recent morning. A note upfront: Despite the name, the food truck does not currently serve fried chicken. For that, you have to go to Astro’s brick-and-mortar shop in D.C. near Metro Center. The truck, which has been making regular visits to Rosslyn, Clarendon, and Ballston, serves up the same doughnut flavors that are available in the shop that day. On the morning I visited, there were eight offerings. I chose to try crème brûlée (an “everyday” flavor on Astro’s menu) and Nutella (a “monthly” flavor). This opinion reviews the crème brûlée. I will review the Nutella doughnut in a companion case, In re Astro Doughnuts & Fried Chicken, 28 Catt. 3 (2014).

Astro’s crème brûlée flavor has been very well received by doughnut eaters in the area. Last summer, it was crowned the winner of the Washington Post Food Section’s Dozen Week of Doughnuts competition. It was also named one of the fifty must-try dishes by the Washington City Paper. It has wowed customers and critics alike. Will it do the same for a Cart Justice?

Street Food Test

Before I can review the crème brûlée doughnut, I must address whether the doughnut is true street food and is therefore entitled to the presumption of affirmance by this court. See In re Eat Wonky, 2 Catt. 5 (2011) (defining street food); In re Big Cheese, 6 Catt. 2 (2012) (discussing burden of proof). The crème brûlée doughnut is not street food. While doughnuts from another food truck have satisfied this court’s test for street food, those doughnuts were freshly made in front of the customer. See In re Mama’s Donut Bites, 18 Catt. 1 (2013). The doughnut in this case, on the other hand, is very similar to the dish that first inspired our street food test. That is, Astro’s doughnuts are made at their shop, loaded on to the food truck, and then bagged and handed to customers—sometimes several hours after they were first made. However, for the reasons below, Astro’s crème brûlée doughnut needs no presumption and excels on its own.

Crème Brûlée & Nutella Doughnuts

Crème Brûlée Doughnut ($2.85)

Astro’s crème brûlée doughnut is a vanilla glazed doughnut with an exterior coat of caramelized sugar and a vanilla custard filling. It is, of course, inspired by the classic French dessert. As a dessert-inspired doughnut, it is, as one might expect, very sweet. It is probably too sweet for those who dislike sugary treats in their stomachs first thing in the morning. Luckily, I do not have that problem. (I often eat cake, cookies, and pie for breakfast because, well, why wait till later?)

I must confess that crème brûlée does not top my wish list of desserts. I rarely select it from restaurant menus. But after catching a glimpse of the doughnut in Astro’s display case, I couldn’t resist. The main visual lure for me—the hard shell of caramelized sugar—lived up to my expectations. No, it beat my expectations.

The crème brûlée doughnut was texturally exquisite. The teeth first met a crunchy layer of scorched sugar, then bit through the soft center, and ended in a pool of cool, creamy, thick vanilla custard. The variety of textures made for one memorable bite.

If I had to nitpick at something, it would be the timidity of the vanilla flavoring in the custard. The hint of vanilla was detectable, but without a more aggressive touch, it bordered on bland. But this didn’t detract too much from my enjoyment of Astro’s otherwise outstanding creation.

For its creativity and near-perfect execution, Astro’s crème brûlée doughnut is

AFFIRMED. It is so ordered.

Street Boutique

CATTLEYA, J., delivered the opinion of the Cart. JEREMY, C.J., delivered a separate concurrence.

Some months ago, with very hungry stomachs, the Chief Justice and I went in search of a food truck. We eventually found ourselves in Clarendon, where we spotted a truck in the distance down Wilson Boulevard.

By that time, ungentlemanly noises were coming from the Chief Justice’s stomach, so we ran towards the truck without even knowing its name. We imagined the plethora of dining options that the street scene offers—Korean, Mexican, Italian, American, Ethiopian, Indian, Vietnamese, just to name a few—and ours mouths salivated more and more with the dream of each cuisine.

When we reached the truck, we saw that, unlike the typical food truck, there was no service window. How odd. We peered into the back of the truck, and we saw that there was no stove. Very odd, indeed. No oven. No fryer. No grill.

We stepped back, taking in the truck’s light pink color, and finally noticed its name: Street Boutique. Under that, in clear dark print, it read “fashion truck.” This was not a food truck at all. A heavy sigh came from the Chief Justice, and I gave my growling stomach a comforting pat. Our meal would have to wait.

The question before us today is whether the Supreme Cart has jurisdiction to review a fashion truck.

Under the Judiciary Act of 2011 (Cartiorari Act), Congress granted the Supreme Cart “exclusive jurisdiction of all food carts, trucks, and other transitory alimentary establishments” within its geographic boundaries. The Rules of Procedure clarified that the Cart properly has jurisdiction to review “all mobile gastronomic enterprises situated throughout those parts of (a) the County of Arlington, Virginia, (b) the District of Columbia, and (c) the City of Alexandria, Virginia.”

Several cases have required us, the Justices of the Supreme Cart, to interpret the meaning of the term “mobile gastronomic enterprise.” However, most of these cases have asked us to consider what makes an enterprise “mobile,” and we have had few opportunities to reflect on what makes an enterprise “gastronomic.”

In In re Amtrak Café Car, 14 Catt. 1 (2012), the Chief Justice stated in his concurring opinion that an enterprise had to meet “some minimal pretension to ‘good eating’” in order to be considered gastronomic. The Cart adopted this view in In re Skydome Lounge, 17 Catt. 4 (2013). There the court explained that the test to determine whether an enterprise is gastronomic is a de minimis test. In other words, it is a test that does not allow for considerations of quality. Under this test, the Cart found that “an unimaginably abysmal cocktail” met the low bar for a gastronomic enterprise.

Street Boutique

Although the Cart’s gastronomy test is de minimis, it is possible for an enterprise to fail to meet its low bar. In In re Trolley Pub Arlington, 19 Catt. 4 (2013), it could not be found that the enterprise at issue was “gastronomic” because customers were required to bring their own food and drink to the enterprise. Thus, to be gastronomic, an enterprise must offer some sort of gastronomy to customers.

In the case of Street Boutique, the truck does offer something—fashion apparel and accessories—to customers. It even seems that the truck offers “fresh” fashion. The truck’s website reports that “at least half of [their] inventory is new from week to week, and items are only carried once.” Although freshness is generally regarded as a highly desirable quality of gastronomy, this court cannot conclude that if something is fresh, then that something is gastronomic. That would be a non sequitur argument.

Street Boutique’s fashion—dresses, jackets, jewelry, shoes, etc.—even those made of organic materials—simply cannot be eaten. They are not merely inedible; they are not made for human consumption. Today, we hold that a truck purveying articles not made for human consumption does not meet the minimal requirement of a gastronomic enterprise and is therefore outside this court’s jurisdiction. Thus, the case of Street Boutique is

DISMISSED.

JEREMY, C.J., concurring.

My sister’s opinion lacks precision. She writes that fashion “simply cannot be eaten.” I would dispute this fact; it is possible. The general sentiment is correct, however, for while moths may eat clothes, we humans tend not to. Therefore Street Boutique, which purveys clothes and makes no pretension to “good eating” — or even eating of any kind –, cannot properly be considered to be a truly “gastronomic” enterprise.

No. 109. Astro Doughnuts & Fried Chicken. Cartiorari granted on the question of crème brûlée doughnut.

No. 110. Astro Doughnuts & Fried Chicken. Cartiorari granted on the question of nutella doughnut.

No. 111. PhoWheels. Cartiorari granted on the question of musubi tacos.

Bibimbap with Spicy Bulgogi

JEREMY, C.J., delivered the opinion of the Cart, in which CATTLEYA, J., joins.

Back in the early days of the Cart, we dined at 1st Yellow Vendor. Today, we consider Yellow Vendor. Though their trucks look identical, as my sister noted in an erratum to our earlier opinion, Yellow Vendor and 1st Yellow Vendor are “totally different.” Both trucks are the progeny of Yellow Bulgogi Cart, a stationary cart that resided at 14th and L. Yellow Bulgogi Cart was one of the old guard of DC’s street food scene. The cart first hit the streets in 2007, back when hot dogs were about all you could get on city streets. One of the operators – Andy Kim – founded Yellow Vendor in 2010; the other operator – his mother – founded 1st Yellow Vendor.

Yellow Vendor’s Menu

Yellow Vendor’s cuisine is simple, without corn tortillas or Sriracha overdosing. Cf. In re TaKorean, 1 Catt. 4 (2011). This is a truck, that, as the Post put it, “eschew[s] fusion trends in favor of basic Korean staples.” The truck offers eleven lunch boxes, all $8. The menu on the side of the truck shows what appears to be eleven nearly identical pictures, but some combos are spicy and some are not, some feature chicken and some feature beef, some come with an egg (bibimbap) and some do not. We opted for the spicy bulgogi bibimbap lunch box – a Styrofoam box filled with white rice, a sizeable serving of bulgogi meat dripping with gochujang – a condiment of red chili and fermented soybeans – and topped with an over-easy egg, kimchi, and two namul – julienned carrot and blanched greens (perhaps chrysanthemum) dressed simply with sesame oil and salt.

Yellow Vendor

Because a stuffed Styrofoam container such as this cannot be “street food” under our jurisprudence, there is no presumption in favor of Yellow Vendor’s spicy bulgogi bibimbap and the truck bears the burden of proving the merits of its offering. See In re Eat Wonky, 2 Catt. 5 (2011) (defining street food); In re Big Cheese, 6 Catt. 2 (2012) (discussing burden of proof).

The bulgogi meat itself was tender with a great traditional balance of sweet and savory flavors, complemented nicely by the healthy dose of spicy fermented gochujang. Amid the beef strips and the gochujang was an over-easy egg. Initially, we were suspicious, as the egg itself appeared to have been pre-made and pulled out of a container. But the egg was perfectly cooked, with a firm white and golden runny yolk. The star of the combo, however, was the vegetables: the sour kimchi and the crisp freshness of the carrots and chrysanthemum greens. It took some work to attain, but a mouthful consisting of each of the combo’s components was heavenly.

Yellow Vendor is not fusion. For the past three-and-a-half years, or nearly seven if you consider the progenitor cart, Andy Kim has offered basic Korean fare prepared well and presented simply. It easily succeeds on its own merits.

AFFIRMED.

Astro Doughnuts & Fried Chicken

Astro Doughnuts & Fried Chicken Launches A Food Truck

Eater DC, the Washington Post, and Washingtonian all report Astro Doughnuts & Fried Chicken (1308 G Street NW) has launched a food truck serving coffee and donuts — sorry, no chicken — for breakfast in Rosslyn and Clarendon. Though not in DC yet, they hope to expand in the future. For locations, check out the restaurant’s Twitter feed.

Austin Street Eats Consume Toki Underground

Eater DC also reports the guys of Austin’s East Side King — including Springfield-local Paul Qui of Top Chef fame — plan to take over H Street favorite Toki Underground this Friday, January 24. See the full menu at Eater and on ESK’s website.

El Rey Opens on U Street

Shipping container restaurant El Rey opened on U Street on January 10. Executive chef Jorge Pimentel formerly helmed now-shuttered food truck Sabor’a Street.

This month, exactly one year ago, classic and comforting fare came to Washington, D.C. courtesy of Capital Chicken & Waffles (“CCW”). I speak, of course, of chicken and waffles. On a very cold winter day—the sort of day when only comfort food could warm you up—the Justices of this Cart turned to CCW to do just that.

Capital Chicken & Waffles

Thus far, comfort food has had a bumpy ride on the streets of the nation’s capital. The Peanut Butter Jelly Time truck, for example, closed just after two months of business. More recently, the macaroni-and-cheese-making CapMac closed after three years last November, though the truck plans to reopen this year under new ownership. The history of comfort food trucks before this tribunal is perhaps even bumpier. CapMac’s Classic CapMac’n Cheese was the first dish that this court ever remanded for revision. See In re CapMac, 1 Catt. 1 (2011). Then, not one but two versions of the classic grilled cheese from the Big Cheese truck were remanded by the Chief Justice. See In re Big Cheese, 6 Catt. 2 (2012).

This should not be interpreted to mean that we Justices dislike comfort food. For my part, I am incapable of saying no to chicken fried steak with sausage gravy. And while the regular reader might think that the Chief Justice’s tastes are too highbrow for classic comfort food, many a times we met over corned beef hash when we first crossed paths in law school all those years ago. No, we have no aversion to comfort food. How could we when we have dedicated our life’s work to food and the justness of its preparation?

That being said, it does not need to be said that we approached CCW with eagerness (but, look, I have said it anyway). Although CCW offers other comfort food fare like chili, we Justices went for and wanted nothing but chicken and waffles. Upon walking up to CCW’s menu board, however, we encountered an unexpected delay in getting what we wanted. The words “chicken and waffles” were confusingly absent from the menu. Instead, the menu spoke of a “Classic Combo,” a “Boat Combo,” and a “Meal Combo.” One might argue that the words need not appear on the menu, as they are in the truck’s name. (I note that this argument would not entirely satisfy because, on the flip side, “fish sandwich” and the aforementioned chili appear on the menu, but they are not in the truck’s name.)

Without any descriptions of the combos, we (i.e., first-timers) could not make an informed meal selection. After some discussion with CCW’s fine staff, we learned that a Boat Combo offered a smaller portion of chicken and waffles than a Classic Combo, and a Meal Combo was a Classic Combo but with the addition of two sides and a drink. I imagine from the staff’s speedy response that we were not the first to ask about the differences between the combos. I would suggest, if only to save the staff the trouble of answering the same question daily, that CCW might want to explain on the menu board exactly what comes with each combo (e.g., how many pieces of chicken).

Boat Combo

We opted for a Boat Combo ($6.39 plus sales tax), which consisted of three pieces of chicken over a long, oval-shaped waffle. Because chicken and waffles are not “street food” under our jurisprudence, no presumption in favor of CCW’s chicken and waffles arises and CCW bears the burden to prove the merits of its offering. See In re Eat Wonky, 2 Catt. 5 (2011) (defining street food); In re Big Cheese, 6 Catt. 2 (2012) (discussing burden of proof).

Let’s start with the chicken. The fried chicken in CCW’s chicken and waffles were of the boneless strip variety, and not of the breast/wing/thigh/leg variety. Although the chicken strips were underseasoned, generous applications of our accompanying sauce (we chose honey mustard) hid this oversight. Less easy to ignore was the thin breading on the chicken. CCW didn’t quite achieve the crisp, bite-worthy exterior that one looks for when eating battered, deep fried chicken.

Textural issues were experienced with the waffle as well. Although we topped the waffle with a generous amount of maple syrup, the waffle, unfortunately, was soft and somehow soggy before we added the syrup. Part of the issue seemed structural — the long, oval-shaped waffle boat did not maximize its number of potential pockets (each pocket ran the length of a full row of the waffle boat). Thus, CCW’s waffle boat did not maximize its potential for wonderfully crisp surface space. For the eater who likes her waffles to be soft in the center and crispy on the outside, with pockets and pockets to be filled up with maple syrup, CCW’s waffle boat missed the mark.

To be clear, CCW’s chicken and waffles weren’t bad. They were edible, more than edible, and indeed, we ate it all. CCW’s version just wasn’t that great. It felt less like homecooked food and more like reheated food, less like mom and pop shop and more like IHOP.

REMANDED to Capital Chicken & Waffles for revision.

Our maître d’hôtel, courtesy of Flickr user sfxeric.

JEREMY, C.J., delivered the opinion of the Cart. CATTLEYA, J., wrote a separate concurrence.

Christmas Eve in the chambers: not a creature was stirring, not even a clerk. We, the Justices, sat alone in our wood-paneled chambers, reading by candlelight from ancient treatises. The cause of justice, you see, allows for no holiday. But even a Justice is human, and a human must eventually succumb to slumber. Visions of sugar-plums danced in our heads.

Morning arrived, and with it delicious cookies and candy in a stocking marked “Jeremy” and a mound of coal in a stocking marked “Cattleya.” Come Christmas afternoon, we, the Justices of the Supreme Cart ventured out of our chambers, a light breeze in the air as chilling as my sister’s activism. Our wigs and long, black robes billowed as we stood there, together, on the marble steps of 1 First Street SW.

“Where shall we eat?” we asked aloud, our voices piercing the District’s haunting silence. A food truck, naturally, but none could be found. We ran to Union Station, to L’Enfant Plaza, to Farragut Square and Franklin Square Park, to the State Department. We even ran across the blustery Potomac bridges to Arlington, our freshly powdered wigs coming loose in the wind and floating downstream to the Chesapeake. There was not a food truck to be found.

CBO, fries, and fancy ketchup.

But a Justice must eat. And there, before us, shining brightly like a diamond, gleaming luminously like the holy grail freshly polished, lustrous and radiant, we spied one golden arch and a second. McDonald’s, the sign said. And it was open. There was the scent of frying McNuggets, the sizzle of a grilled onion cheddar burger, the sacred promise of an apple pie. And so we approached, slowly, cautiously, guardedly walking toward that happy bosom of gold.

We opened the door and paused beside the case of sample Happy Meal toys. We looked warily at each other. Would we have jurisdiction to eat here?

Under the statute and our rules, we have jurisdiction over “mobile gastronomic enterprises,” including trucks and carts and the occasional three-course brunch in New Orleans. We have even found ourselves to have jurisdiction over non-mobile gastronomic enterprises where they offer the same menu items as a mobile gastronomic enterprise or different menu items under the same branding, or where some contract between the non-mobile gastronomic enterprise and the mobile gastronomic enterprise whose fare it purveys.

But a Justice must eat. And no such enterprise could be found. We find today that emergency jurisdiction exists over any gastronomic enterprise where there can be found within our district no mobile gastronomic enterprise or non-mobile gastronomic enterprise aligned with a mobile gastronomic enterprise. This Christmas Day, no such enterprise could be found. Therefore, we find we validly had jurisdiction over McDonald’s.

Half-eaten Big Mac.

I ordered the following culinary delights:

• A cheddar bacon onion quarter-pounder.
• A grilled onion cheddar burger.
• Two Big Macs.
• French fries.
• A limited edition holiday pie.

The appeal of the grilled onion cheddar burger cannot be overstated. The subtle seasoning of the burger patty, salty and savory. The melting cheese enveloping the patty, tangy and custard-like. The perfectly caramelized onions, brown and sugary sweet. We were fanatics.

The cheddar bacon onion (or “CBO,” as in the Congressional Budget Office) we found to be less successful. The peppery burger and smoked bacon were intriguing, but the denser, more substantial roll detracted from the otherwise intense interaction of flavors and textures.

The Big Mac is quite simply a classic: two all-beef patties, special sauce, lettuce, cheese, pickles, onions, on a sesame seed bun. The smack of the special sauce—mayonnaise, sweet pickle relish, yellow mustard with vinegar, garlic powder, onion powder, and paprika—enchants the palate, setting it to dance like the Sugar Plum Fairy. The sesame seeds were an inspired touch.

Holiday pie, for a limited time only.

Question: How do you spot Ronald McDonald at a nudist colony? Answer: By his sesame seed buns. (What? That killed in second grade.)

The French fries were warm and crisp and pillowy, as a good fry should be. A very good fry, in fact. An always surprisingly good fry. A miracle, perhaps, fittingly. They paired beautifully with packets of sweet, bright red fancy ketchup.

The holiday pie was pure Christmas: a sprinkled sugar cookie dough enveloping a sweet egg custard, lovingly cradling it like a child holding a prized present found beneath an ornamented tree. It tasted like waking up Christmas morning, like a day spent around a fire with family and friends.

Sated and satisfied, we retreated back to 1 First Street SW, back to our wood-paneled chambers, where we donned new pairs of wigs and settled into our oversized, swiveling leather chairs for a long night of deliberation. (Or a nap, in Justice Cattleya’s case.)

Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good bite!

AFFIRMED.

CATTLEYA, J., concurring.

I write separately because I wish to call special attention to the opinion authored by the Chief Justice. No matter what the Chief Justice writes in any opinion in the future, this one will be forever remembered as his most significant. For it is in this opinion that the Chief Justice followed his heart—or maybe his stomach?—to open the door for this court to review any gastronomic enterprise under “emergency jurisdiction.”

The reader may have heard that the Justices of another high court in this land, one that shares the same street address as ours but in the Northeast quadrant, are being honored one by one with their own bobbleheads. Yes, bobbleheads. Four of the current nine Supreme Court Justices, plus more than a handful of Justices from the past, have inspired works of bobbling, ceramic artistry that show their likeness and highlight their significant opinions through clever symbols. For example, the bobblehead of Justice David H. Souter wears a gold chain around his neck like the members of 2 Live Crew, a reference to the Justice’s opinion in the copyright case Campbell v. Acuff-Rose Music, 510 U.S. 569 (1994). For more on the bobbleheads of the Supreme Court Justices, see here if you like videos, here if you like articles, and here if you like Buzzfeed.

Well, this opinion is so important to the Chief Justice’s jurisprudence of judicial activism that one day when he is honored with his very own bobblehead, as I am sure all of the Supreme Cart Justices will be, his bobblehead makers will seek to somehow symbolize this very opinion in ceramic form. But how to do so? The obvious idea would be to depict the Chief Justice with the famous Golden Arches, but surely that idea would be quickly rejected due to the trademark issues involved.

Personally, I would suggest to the bobblehead makers that they allow their eyes to pause over the Chief Justice’s description of his first sight of the Golden Arches: “And there . . . shining brightly like a diamond . . . .”

Shining brightly like a diamond.

Shine bright like a diamond.

Shine bright like a diamond.

The bobblehead makers will, I trust, recognize this for what it so plainly is—a reference to lyrics from the song “Diamonds” by the artist Rihanna. (Truly, contrary to popular belief, the Chief Justice dislikes opera and I swear that I so often can hear Rihanna’s records playing through the doors to his chambers.) So there it is. A clue to the perfect symbol to represent the Chief Justice’s opinion in In re McDonald’s.

But a real diamond, of course, would be much too expensive to include in the design of the Chief Justice’s bobblehead. And a synthetic diamond would offend his fancy tastes. Is there a less costly, but recognizable object that would represent Rihanna, and thereby, the important McDonald’s decision?

“Yes,” I hope the bobblehead makers will think, remembering Rihanna’s critically acclaimed, Grammy Award winning single “Umbrella.” Of course!

And that is how one day the Chief Justice will end up as a bobblehead with a beautifully sculpted umbrella propped under his ceramic arm. I so hope, bobblehead makers. I so hope.

Chief Justice Jeremy of the Supreme Cart, with Justices of the Supreme Court

No. 106. Capital Chicken & Waffles. Cartiorari granted on the question of chicken and waffles.

No. 107. Yellow Vendor. Cartiorari granted on the question of bibimbap with spicy bulgogi.

The sole question before the Cart today is whether we have jurisdiction to review the L.A. Food Truck Salad from Chop’t Creative Salad Company. Chop’t, as the reader probably knows, is not a food truck or cart. It is a chain restaurant found on urban street corners and in suburban shopping malls. There are a number of Chop’t locations throughout D.C. and Northern Virginia.

This fall season, Chop’t featured on its menu a dish called the L.A. Food Truck Salad as a seasonal special. The salad consisted of panko-fried chicken, ginger pickled shishito peppers, scallions, carrots, and romaine lettuce, all tossed in a creamy Sriracha dressing. The special was available for about two months.

L.A. Food Truck Salad

JURISDICTION

The Judiciary Act of 2011 (Cartiorari Act), our guiding legislation, grants the Supreme Cart “exclusive jurisdiction of all food carts, trucks, and other transitory alimentary establishments.” Our Rule of Procedure 1-2 explains that this grant extends to “all mobile gastronomic enterprises situated throughout those parts of (a) the County of Arlington, Virginia, (b) the District of Columbia, and (c) the City of Alexandria, Virginia, which are reasonably proximate to public transportation of a reasonably rapid and efficient character.”

Beyond food trucks and carts, our case law has extended jurisdiction to non-mobile, brick-and-mortar restaurants when certain conditions have been met. We have granted jurisdiction to a brick-and-mortar’s dishes when the restaurant shared a sibling relationship with a food truck and served its dishes under the same branding. See In re SUNdeVICH, 22 Catt. 2 (2013). We have also granted jurisdiction to review a food truck’s dish that was served by an unrelated brick-and-mortar restaurant when the food truck and restaurant entered into a formal agreement and the restaurant served the dish in the original form intended by the food truck. See In re Captain Cookie & The Milkman at Thomas Foolery, 23 Catt. 3 (2013).

In the present case, Chop’t does not have a sibling relationship with a food truck. To the best of this Court’s knowledge (meaning as far as our law clerks’ research shows), Chop’t does not include in its operation any food truck or mobile gastronomic enterprise of any kind.

The remaining way for this Court to have jurisdiction over the L.A. Food Truck Salad is if it can be shown that Chop’t entered into an agreement with a food truck to serve that truck’s salad in Chop’t restaurants. This cannot be shown. Again, to the best of this Court’s knowledge, the L.A. Food Truck Salad is not the creation of any L.A.-based food truck. It appears that the L.A. Food Truck Salad is Chop’t’s original dish inspired by its interpretation of mobile gastronomy in Los Angeles. While we must assume that Chop’t meant this Asian fusion dish to be a compliment to L.A. food trucks, we must also assume that this confused, incohesive dish is an affront to L.A., the home of mobile gastronomic masterpieces like Kogi’s Korean tacos, otherwise known as the Korean tacos.

Because the L.A. Food Truck Salad is not the creation of a food truck, either related or not to Chop’t, we do not have the authority to review it.

MOOTNESS

Finally, I note that while a finding of mootness would also preclude our jurisdiction, this case is not moot even though the L.A. Food Truck Salad is not currently on the Chop’t menu. There is nothing to prevent the salad from returning in the future, and the 60-day limit on Chop’t seasonal specials makes it difficult for this Court to address in time. See Southern Pacific Terminal Co. v. ICC, 219 U.S. 498 (1911). I also note that it’s a very good thing for the reader that the L.A. Food Truck Salad’s 60-day debut has expired. The regular reader will know that another confused fusion dish reviewed by this Court left us wanting something more than “Sriracha and cilantro.” See In re TaKorean, 1 Catt. 4 (2011). Similarly, this fusion salad left the palate wanting something more than romaine lettuce and (diluted) Sriracha.

DISMISSED.

JEREMY, C.J., concurring in the result.

Ridiculous. Spurious judicial activism. My sister is up to her old tricks again, slamming shut the doors of the Hall of Justice. After victories in SUNdeVICH and Thomas Foolery, I was certain the tides were changing. Sure, Mothership and Shanghai Lounge gave me some pause, but things were, in general, going so well. And then this. But what would you expect?

My sister finds that we lack jurisdiction in this case because Chop’t’s “L.A. Food Truck Salad” is not food truck fare under the laws and jurisprudence that guides this court. But really how much plainer could it be, Justice? L.A. FOOD TRUCK Salad. It’s right in the name. Right there, plain as day.

Surely my sister has heard of the basic interpretive doctrine of plain meaning? But maybe I shouldn’t make that assumption. See In re China Garden, 5 Catt. 1 (2012); In re Lemongrass, 7 Catt. 1 (2012). See also her nasty, spiteful comment in the headnote of my cogent opinion in Brennan’s. Dear Justice Cattleya: please reread Caminetti v. United States, 242 U.S. 470 (1917). Kthxbye.

Of course, if I find jurisdiction in this case, I must proceed to consider the merits of Chop’t’s L.A. Food Truck Salad. Will I spend my hard-earned judge’s dollars at Chop’t for naught? Hell no. For this reason, and this reason alone, I join in the result of my sister’s opinion, agreeing the case is appropriately dismissed.

Peruvian Brothers

Food Trucks Adjust to New Regulations

Over the last few weeks, we’ve reported on DC’s new food regulations, especially the new monthly food truck lottery that went into effect December 1. Washington City Paper checked in with food truck owners to see how the new system is affecting them. Read more over at WCP.

Another Food Truck Closing

After a spate of food truck closings over the last few weeks — CapMac, Cirque Cuisine — the Washington Post reports PORC is also closing down so its owners can invest more time in brick-and-mortar spinoff Kangaroo Boxing Club. We reviewed PORC in 2011.

Now Accepting Bitcoin

WCP and DCist report that the Peruvian Brothers food truck, half-owned by a rowing mate of the Winklevoss twins, is now accepting Bitcoin in addition to paper and plastic. The press release is here.

El Fuego.

Peruvian cuisine has been hailed as one of the world’s great cuisines, but it hasn’t always gotten the recognition it deserves. The New York Times in 1999 declared it “the original fusion food.” And if there’s a classic Peruvian dish, it’s lomo saltado, a dish with its origins specifically in the Chifa cuisine – a fascinating melding of Chinese and native Peruvian influences dating from a wave of immigration in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries.

DC-area residents have been able to try Chifa cuisine at Kampo on Leesburg Pike for years, and word is José Andrés will open a more upscale Chifa-style eatery – “China Chilcano” – next spring on 7th Street in an area quickly becoming Andrés Alley.

Lomo saltado – literally “salted loin” – is a stir fry of beef strips marinated in vinegar and soy sauce, onions, and tomatoes. Local food truck El Fuego offers its “signature lomo saltado bowl,” which features beef tenderloin, red onion, plum tomato, and hot peppers cooked in “Our Chef’s special marinade.” As is tradition, the dish comes carb-heavy, with both French fries and rice.

El Fuego is the work of Manuel Alfaro, a Puerto Rican-born, Spanish-trained culinarian who, through his Peruvian-born wife, obtained his love for the cuisine of Peru, his “second Motherland.” In addition to lomo saltado, the truck offers a Peruvian-style burger, ceviche, pan con chicharron, salchipapa, tamales, and tallarín saltado, another Chifa dish.

This truck gives you a lot of food for your money ($10).

In the flavor department, however, El Fuego’s lomo saltado is a bit of a one-note samba – not terrible, not incredible. But add a bit of the truck’s ají amarillo – a spicy crema made from the ají amarillo chili pepper – and the dish begins to sing.

Lomo saltado.

The best part of the dish is probably the French fries, which are served unbelievably crisp. Traditionally, however, the steak and vegetables are served on top of the fries, or mixed with them, so that their sauce soaks into the potato. El Fuego instead serves its fries on the side, and it can be difficult to mix the steak and vegetables with the fries in a take-out container. Without mixing the one with the other, the dishes loses something of its Chifa roots.

Under our jurisprudence, a dish is “street food” where it is cooked in front of you and is “meant to be eaten with your hands, without forks, while standing up.” In re Eat Wonky, 2 Catt. 5 (2011). Because true street food is the aim of the food truck, a dish classified as “street food” is entitled to a presumption of affirmance unless some serious flaw is exposed. In re Big Cheese, 6 Catt. 2 (2012). On the other hand, a dish not classified as “street food” must stand on its own merits without any presumption of affirmance. Id.

Here, El Fuego’s lomo saltado cannot properly be considered “street food” because it is not easily eaten with just the hands, without a fork. The dish must therefore stand on its own two feet without the assistance of the presumption.

El Fuego’s lomo saltado is not a bad dish by any means. But it could be a much better dish with adjustments in seasoning and plating. For these reasons, the lomo saltado is

AFFIRMED in part and REMANDED in part to El Fuego for revision. It is so ordered.

I am called upon today to decide the case of Mac’s Donuts (“MD”). MD is a food cart that sets up shop every Saturday morning at the Courthouse Farmers’ Market in Arlington, VA. When I learned that this food cart serves fresh apple cider donuts on a day when most food trucks and carts in the area are closed, I jumped at the chance for a much-needed weekend mobile gastronomic treat.

Mac’s Donuts

 I. MAC’S DONUTS

MD’s signature menu item is its “Stick-o-Donuts,” a skewer of six mini apple cider donuts. In fact, it has received a lot of excellent attention for this. See Jessica Voelker, The Great Doughnut Derby: We Have a Winner, Best Bites, April 23, 2013; Sarah Anne Hughes, The 11 Best Doughnuts in the D.C. Area, DCist, November 6, 2013.

If I had not already known that MD had an apple cider donut on its menu, I would have known as soon as I walked into the parking lot where the Courthouse Farmer’s Market is held. Even though MD was three or four food stands away from the entrance, I was immediately surrounded by the rich and inviting scent of apples and sugar.

I had fully intended to get the apple cider donuts. I didn’t think there was anything else on MD’s menu. But on the day of my visit, there was. At the bottom of MD’s menu board was written “croissant donut.” I was told that they has been made just minutes ago, and when I asked which menu item was best for a first timer, I was pointed to the croissant donut. I took the recommendation.

II. STANDARD OF REVIEW

This Court has already held that donuts are true street food. Mama’s Donut Bites, 18 Catt. 1 (2013); see also In re Eat Wonky, 2 Catt. 5 (2011) (defining street food as “the kind[] . . . that can be cooked in front of you and [is] meant to be eaten with your hands, without forks, while standing up”). Thus, MD’s croissant donut is entitled to the presumption of affirmance, unless I show a serious flaw with the deep-fried treat. See In re Big Cheese, 6 Catt. 2 (2012). As explained below, I affirm in part and remand in part for revision.

Croissant Donut

 III. CROISSANT DONUT ($2)

While the craze-starting Cronut from NYC’s Dominique Ansel Bakery is filled with cream, coated in sugar, and topped with glaze, MD’s version of the half-croissant, half-donut treat was, in comparison, rather plain. I didn’t take advantage of MD’s powdered sugar station, expecting the croissant donut to be served in a complete, ready-to-devour state. I typically view stations with powdered sugar, syrup, sprinkles, etc. the way that I view salt on the dinner table – I shouldn’t have to use it unless something has gone wrong. Unfortunately, without that sugary dusting, MD’s croissant donut lacked flavor and sweetness.

Texturally, however, MD’s croissant donut was more successful. The crisp exterior lent a beautiful bite, and the inside was soft and had visible layers of dough. While I can’t really say that it was light (is it even possible to be?), it certainly wasn’t greasy.

IV. CONCLUSION

I found it satisfying to walk around on a clear, chilly fall morning — cold enough for a coat, but not enough yet for a scarf — with a warm croissant donut in one hand and hot apple cider in the other. MD’s croissant donut was not the best version in the area. (I don’t know what is, but a very surprising contender comes from a trained French pastry chef who runs a small Filipino grocery/hot food bar in Arlington called Philippine Oriental Market.) Still, MD’s croissant donut was not a complete disappointment. From a textural standpoint, it was executed well. I just would have liked to see some embellishment to enhance the flavor.

AFFIRMED in part and REMANDED in part to Mac’s Donuts for revision. It is so ordered.

Red Hook Lobster Pound

New Food Truck Lottery’s First Few Days

Last week, we reported on the implementation of the new DC food truck lottery, which began December 1.

Passed by the City Council in June after a protracted, four year-long fight and made final in September, the new regulations led to the establishment of Mobile Roadway Vending (MRV) locations and require that, to vend in a designated MRV location, a food truck must participate in a monthly MRV location permit lottery administered by the DCRA. Food trucks not selected in the lottery for a specific MRV location are permitted to vend elsewhere in the District subject to other requirements, including the requirement that they not be within 200 feet of a designated MRV location.

This week — the first under the new scheme — we’re beginning to see feedback from food truck owners and operators.

The Washington Post reports that, no longer fighting for parking, vendors are “praising” the new regulations. Lily Habtom, owner of Lilypad on the Run, remarked she no longer has to “stress at all about tickets.” And Doug Povich, chairman of the DMV Food Truck Association and co-owner of Red Hook Lobster Pound, was quoted as saying, “The trucks I’ve spoken with today say it’s a much better way” of doing business.

A report by Washington City Paper is less rosy. Food trucks are often forced by the lottery to operate in areas they’d never before and had no established customer base. Those trucks that didn’t win licenses for every day of the week have to scope out alternative locations at least 200 feet from an MRV location. “We’re glad to see the D.C. government getting involved,” said TaKorean manager Elizabeth Cramer. “My only hesitation is that . . . food trucks came about because it’s a great idea to take good food where people want it. So when you restrict that, you’re restricting business potential.”

Some food trucks worry about how to alter their business plans, or at least retrain their customers, another Post piece says.

But Robert Estep, owner of Burgorilla and What the Pho?, guesses that any loss from the inability to sell near an established customer base may be balanced by savings on parking tickets, Washingtonian reports.

What have you observed? How will the new system play out? Let us know in the comments.

Pepito de Iberico.

José Andrés Opens a New Food Truck…

…on a golf course in Puerto Rico. Eater reports the truck will offer a burger, a hot dog, a club sandwich, and “some tapas-esque appetizers” to patrons of the Dorado Beach Resort and Club, where Andrés already operates a restaurant. No word on whether the truck will offer the $20 Pepito de Ibérico, which we reviewed last October.

No. 103. El Fuego. Cartiorari granted on the question of lomo saltado.

No. 104. Chop’t Creative Salad Company. Cartiorari granted on the question of whether L.A. Food Truck salad is within the jurisdiction of the Cart.

PORC

DCRA Releases December Food Truck Lottery Results

On November 15, 2013, the DC Department of Consumer and Regulatory Affairs (DCRA) released its final December 2013 Vending Lottery Results, which go into effect December 1.

Passed by the City Council in June after a protracted, four year-long fight and made final in September, the new regulations empower the DCRA to establish Mobile Roadway Vending (MRV) locations and require that, to vend in a designated MRV location, a food truck must participate in a monthly MRV location permit lottery administered by the DCRA. Food trucks not selected in the lottery for a specific MRV location are permitted to vend elsewhere in the District subject to other requirements, including the requirement that they not be within 200 feet of a designated MRV location.

The December results assign 116 trucks vending rights at eight popular Downtown locations — Farragut Square, Union Station, Franklin Square, L’Enfant Plaza, State Department, George Washington University, Navy Yard, and Metro Center — on specific days. For example, the holder of site permit VSP-00029 will be permitted to vend at Farragut Square on Mondays and Fridays, at Union Station on Tuesdays, at Metro Center on Wednesdays, and at Franklin Square on Thursdays.

As Food Truck Fiesta reports, however, this figure is far less than the estimated 200+ trucks currently operating in DC.

The DC Food Truck Association‘s website continues to raise its concerns with the new scheme:

The new regulations include designated areas for food trucks and a lottery system; however, the rules don’t say how this will work. Without transparent and objective criteria, lottery-assigned locations could be created where there is no demand for food trucks. Or we could be boxed-in to lottery-assigned spaces, limiting our ability to roam and meet customer demand throughout the District. Together we will need to help ensure that the implementation of the new rules is fair, objective and transparent so that you will continue to enjoy food trucks all throughout the District.

But while the full effect of the new monthly lottery system has yet to be seen, at least one truck, “organic extravaganza” Cirque Cuisine, has already decided to close up shop citing the new regulatory scheme, writing on its Facebook page: “We are moving on and upward…much thanks to this government and its new regulations and inability to support its small businesses… It is with a heavy heart that I announce this…”

“[T]wo of the five days of the week, they were assigned to locations (Farragut and the State Department area) where they had never really gone to and had never built a following. Fridays, they didn’t even get a spot in the assigned vending zones, meaning they have to stay at least 200 feet away from the zone,” Washington City Paper reports.

Cirque Cuisine served its last lunch rush Friday, November 21, at L’Enfant Plaza, offering up a spinach, caramelized onion, and fontina quiche. Fans of the truck, which Supreme Cart unfortunately never got to sample, took to Cirque Cuisine’s Facebook page to lament the truck’s closing and thank its operators. “This is the saddest news ever,” wrote one commenter. “My foodie lunch life is over,” wrote another.

We’ll keep you updated as the food truck lottery saga plays out.

There’s nothing quite like pho on a cold day.

Of course, the day I happened upon Pho-Bachi, it wasn’t a cold day at all. Far from it. The sun was shining bright, the sky was a brilliant blue, and a particularly feisty yellow jacket was hell-bent on destroying my lunch hour.

Luckily there’s nothing quite like pho on a hot day either.

Pho-Bachi, the mobile gastronomic enterprise.

Pho-Bachi is a mobile gastronomic enterprise which, as the name suggests, serves pho (chicken or steak) and hibachi (chicken, steak, and shrimp).

Fusion again. We’ve voiced time and time again our hesitance with regard to fusion. I hesitated again a moment. But I remembered that pho itself is the result of either French-Indonchinese or Chinese-Indochinese culinary interaction, so I can’t so easily look askance at the truck’s fusion of Japanese and Vietnamese flavors. Besides, the two flavors aren’t really fused at all; they’re simply both sold from the same truck.

Faced with the choice of hibachi or pho, I opted for the latter because, as I’ve said, there’s nothing quite like pho on a hot day either. Hot soup cools you down, right? Right. And it was a fairly hot day, otherwise pleasant, just marred by that goddamn yellow jacket.

Between chicken and steak, I opted for steak. Sure, sure, there’s pho ga; even Così is trying to get in on that game. (It’s a now-removed “Italian” soup with the faintest hint of lemongrass.) But my go-to pho concoction is always a laundry list of various cow parts—eye-of-round, flank, brisket, down to beef tendon and Bible tripe—though I’m always wary of a cut called “cow something” I once spied on a sign listing every cut imaginable, at a wholesale vendor in the older, less Bethesda-ized part of the Florida Avenue/Union Market.

Really, Così?

Funny story: I once took some friends to an otherwise generic place on H Street in Chinatown to taste a surprisingly delicious beef omasum I had very much enjoyed on a previous visit. (Ok, fine, sometimes I “ennoble[] certain ingredients precisely because most people thing they are gross.” So I ordered Rocky Mountain oysters at a ticky-tacky place in Denver covered in animal heads. Whatever. You do it too.) I ordered the beef omasa, but got only a blank stare in return. I said it again, “you know, beef omasa,” and was told I wouldn’t like it. I insisted I’d had it before, in that very establishment, and had very much enjoyed it and would like to try it again and share it with my friends. “We’re out,” I was told, but that smelled fishy. I persisted. But by that time my waiter had made the executive decision to remove it from the menu. Fourth time is clearly not the charm.

Ok, so maybe that wasn’t all that funny.

But I digress. Especially since Pho-Bachi doesn’t come close to offering tripe. Bible.

Pho from Pho-Bachi.

An order of beef pho did come with fat brisket and flank, though. The brisket was a beautiful medium, while the flank was a bit more well-done, as expected. Both were fresh, well prepared, and delicious, and came swimming in a lovely, heady broth perfumed with star anise and clove and onion and filled with a heavy helping of vermicelli, bean sprouts, Thai basil, and hot peppers. With it came tiny containers of hoisin and Sriracha, the perfect amounts for flavoring the already flavorful broth.

Even though pho is traditionally a street food in Vietnam, I was suspicious as to how well it would translate to the American street. This is clearly not eat-as-you-walk food, as you might do with a sandwich or a half smoke or a dosa. In Vietnam, it is often served at a stall with seats and a table. Back on this side of the Pacific, Pho-Bachi gives you a to-go container—and a rather sizeable one at that (you won’t go hungry)—and sends you on your way, cradling your large container of steaming hot liquid as you would a feverish newborn, in search of a vacant park bench or the confines of a drab break room.

But Pho-Bachi surprised me. The pho actually transported quite well. There was no scalding, no stained Oxford, and, aside from that goddamn yellow jacket, no real trouble at all.

Brisket. Pretty, right?

Was Pho-Bachi the very best pho I’ve ever tasted? No, probably not. It’s hard to compete with the Eden Center. But it was actually a good pho, a very good one I’d say, better and more satisfying than some I’ve had in some restaurants. (I’d say it’s better than Pho DC in Chinatown, certainly, but I wasn’t terribly impressed by that establishment.)

I’d give Pho-Bachi 3 out of 4 stars. But since we don’t actually award stars here at Supreme Cart, I’ll say instead that it’s

AFFIRMED. It is so ordered.

CapMac is gone. And Cirque Cuisine is closing up shop.

TaKorean Goes Brick & Mortar

See here [Eater]. And see our review of TaKorean here.

Alexandria Hops on the Food Truck

Our jurisdiction nominally extends to Alexandria. But, until now, that’s been moot. That may change soon, as City Council considers allowing food trucks on its streets.

Bao on a Truck

Seriously? Yes, please!

25 of the Coolest Food Trucks

From Forbes. I hate these lists. But have at it. Local favorite Rito Loco makes the list, as does other favorite (and one of our favorites) Red Hook Lobster Pound‘s New York sister ship.

Alka Seltzer, What Is This?

The day before the government shutdown was bright and warm and sunny, which clashed with the frenzied chill of those midnight hours. But with the Cart’s funding in jeopardy, my clerk and I nevertheless stumbled down to Farragut Square to grant cartiorari to BONMi, a bright green mobile gastronomic enterprise which, at least on the day in question, offered (1) garlic soy sauce chicken ($8), (2) five spice chicken ($8), (3) pulled pork ($10), (4) chili garlic tofu ($8), (5) 18 hour beef ($10), and (6) seasonal veggie ($8), each served on “a toasted Vietnamese baguette” and topped with “Sriracha lime sauce” and cucumbers, pickled vegetables, and cilantro.

BONMi

My clerk and I opted for the 18-hour beef, primarily because—whether in actuality or by purely psychosomatic means—food that takes a long time to produce tends to taste better. (Case in point: Michel Richard’s 72-hour short ribs served some time ago at the superb Garden Café in the West Building of the National Gallery.) Because a banh mi sandwich is clearly “street food,” it is subject to a presumption of affirmance absent some fatal flaw. In re Lemongrass, 7 Catt. 1 (2012) (citing In re Big Cheese, 6 Catt. 2 (2012)).

BONMi Menu

As BONMi’s website suggests, the 18-hour beef is brisket. The brisket is rather good. So good, in fact, it tasted almost like my grandmother’s pot roast, which is to say more Eastern European than Vietnamese and conjured up dissonant images of shtetls and pushcarts. Of course my ancestors can claim no strict monopoly on this particular preparation of brisket, so I’ll let that one go. As far as pot roast goes, BONMi makes a decent pot roast. I appreciate that the fat, rendered almost to jelly, was left in, which made for a particularly rich sandwich.

The bread, unfortunately, suffered from the same authenticity problem. Maybe it was the way it sopped up the juices running out from the pot roast, but the bread read to my palate as a hoagie roll. Which isn’t bad, but it wasn’t what I was expecting.

18-Hour Beef Banh Mi

The Washington Post recently ran an article on what millennials value in food. Having recently tried BONMi and made up my mind about it, one passage stood out to me:

According to research by the Center for Culinary Development, millennials also “value authenticity above almost all else. If a sandwich is billed as a Vietnamese banh mi, they expect it to look, feel and taste like an authentic banh mi.”

Nothing about BONMi’s 18-hour beef sandwich was bad. In fact, it was quite tasty. But I struggled to overcome its branding. To me, it just didn’t “look, feel and taste like an authentic banh mi.” Nor did it read as fusion. There was none of the bright freshness I associate with Vietnamese cuisine. The cilantro and Sriracha were, I suppose, drowned out by the deep savoriness of the brisket. Instead, BONMi served up a decent pot roast hoagie. And I suppose that’s something, but I guess I struggle with prototypical millennial tendencies nonetheless.

For these reasons, BONMi’s 18-hour beef banh mi is

AFFIRMED in part and REMANDED in part to BONMi for revision. It is so ordered.

On a recent brisk morning, I reported to the doctor’s office for my annual physical exam. Unlike the yearly check-ups for the President, the results of our check-ups are not routinely released to the public. So, I am happy to personally report that — despite the rigorous eating involved in my role as a Justice of this Supreme Cart — my good cholesterol is high and my bad cholesterol is low.

I was reveling in the news of my good health when I passed a new food cart on my way back to the court. Feeling like my clean bill of health had earned me any meal of my choosing, I approached the cart with excitement — and without any thought of the turkey sandwich in my lunch bag.

Mediterranean Halal Food

MEDITERRANEAN HALAL FOOD

The cart was Mediterranean Halal Food (“MHF”). It was set up near the Clarendon metro station, where it can be found Monday to Friday during lunch hours. MHF’s menu was simple: two meat choices (chicken or lamb) presented in three different ways (on a pita, over salad, or over rice). Regardless of your meat choice, gyros are $4.99, salad platters are $5.99, and rice platters are $6.99. Rice platters include a can of soda.

Before I could make a decision, the friendly faces inside the cart offered me a sample. I expected a hand to reach through the window with a toothpick sticking through a little piece of chicken or lamb — much like the way restaurants in food courts hand out samples of General Tso’s chicken on toothpicks. But what I received was a small bowl with cuts of lamb on the left and pieces of chicken on the right, all over a mound of rice. It was too generous to be called a sample. After finishing it, I placed a full order of lamb over rice.

TRUE STREET FOOD

This reviewing court has repeatedly held that lamb over rice is not “street food.” See, e.g., In re Mediterranean Delights, 20 Catt. 2 (2013); In re NY Famous Kabob, 7 Catt. 3 (2012). Because the dish under consideration today is not recognized as street food, MHF’s lamb over rice is not entitled to the presumption of affirmance by this court. In re Big Cheese, 6 Catt. 2 (2012); In re Eat Wonky, 2 Catt. 5 (2011) (defining street food as “the kind[] of food[] that can be cooked in front of you and [is] meant to be eaten with your hands, without forks, while standing up”). Instead, the dish must prove itself. And it does.

Lamb over Rice

LAMB OVER RICE

Although I have tried many lamb over rice platters during my time on the Cart, I was surprised and impressed by MHF’s version. It had all the usual components (i.e., lamb, rice, a salad of iceberg lettuce and tomato, plus white and red sauces), but it executed them in a skilled and caring way.

The shaved lamb was flavorful, juicy, and tender. While I usually prefer thicker slices, the thinly shaved meat soaked up the white and red sauces perfectly (more on the sauces below). The portion of meat was beyond generous. It covered almost the entire top of my Styrofoam container.

Just as much thought was put into the rice. It was oily in the most decadent and mouthwatering way, and it was mixed in with very visible caraway seeds. I could have eaten bowls and bowls of that rice alone.

The details carried into the sauces. They held the right thickness and were not watered down. The white sauce was generously speckled with dill, and the red sauce had a real kick. The cool and spicy sauces made every bite a delectable torment, so much so that I ate long past the point of being full.

CONCLUSION

MHF’s lamb over rice is not just a lot of food; it’s a lot of good food at a bargain price. I will definitely return for more.

AFFIRMED. It is so ordered.

No. 100. BONMi. Cartiorari granted on the question of BONMi sandwich.

No. 101. Pho-Bachi. Cartiorari granted on the question of pho.

From Washington City Paper, TaKorean, already with a stall at Union Market, becomes the latest food truck to open a storefront. For our review of TaKorean, see In re TaKorean, 1 Catt. 4 (2011).

Food Trucks Can’t Park Near Arlington Schools

Starting today, Arlington police will block two food trucks from parking next to Yorktown High School due to a county ordinance which bars food trucks from parking within 100 feet of a school, ARLNow reports.

Food Truck Regulatory Wars in Chicago

“Food truck vendors dig in for a piece of street turf against brick-and-mortar restaurants,” the ABA Journal reports.

Are Food Trucks a Good Investment?

Fox Business asks Shark Tank success story SoCal-based Cousins Maine Lobster.

When I first saw Urban Bumpkin’s menu, I was worried. I saw the truck described its cuisine as “fusion.” This Cart has many times described its distrust of fusion, which is too often code for confusion. (Picture Rachael Ray’s marsala masala, a cute idea that has no business existing.) Urban Bumpkin’s menu spans the globe: an “urban Native American taco” with “[t]raditional Native Alaskan fried bread,” a smoked barbecue sandwich, borsch (“Authentic Taste of Russia!”) and Russian shwarma, and Southeast Asian flavors. I could strain to link Alaska and Russia – after all, the Russians claimed Alaska as a colony from 1733 to 1867, and, if you live in Alaska, you can see Russia from your house. But Vietnamese flavors?  Southeastern American barbecue? As I say, I was worried. But then I learned the truck was a barbecue truck, the creation of a gentleman born in Alaska of Vietnamese roots, with a lady of Eastern European extraction who takes your order. And suddenly it all made sense: this was natural fusion, the collision of a lifetime of experiences, not some gastronomic Frankenstein’s monster.

My eye landed first on the “urban Native American taco,” described as a “[t]raditional Native Alaskan fried bread filled with smoked meat, chili garlic coleslaw, fresh pico de gallo and smoked mayo.” My choices were “sweet chili garlic chicken” or “smoked pulled pork.” I opted for the latter.

Urban Bumpkin

The traditional Native Alaskan fried bread was actually a form of frybread, a staple not just of Native Alaskans but of Native Americans more broadly. I’ve had frybread many times: at a ramada at twilight on the dirt plaza outside the cloud-white Mission San Xavier del Bac on the Tohono O’odham reservation south of Tucson, among the pueblos of Northern New Mexico, as a small child at the Mattaponi pow wow in rural Virginia, and, more locally, in the terrific cafeteria at the National Museum of the American Indian. It may be served plain. It is sometimes served sweet, with honey and powdered sugar. At other times, it is made into an Indian or Navajo taco, topped with beans and chili and cheese and onions and tomatoes and lettuce. Whatever its form, “a good piece of fry bread turns any meal into a feast.”

Urban Bumpkin’s “Urban Native American taco” was of the last variety — the Navajo taco – and turned out to be a rather delicious, if not entirely traditional, preparation of the dish. The smoked pulled pork was wonderfully flavorful – smoky, as advertised, tender, with a deep flavor, and clearly cooked for many hours. The coleslaw and cilantro were bright. The pico de gallo wasn’t altogether bad but tasted too strongly of lime for the concoction.

Urban Native American Taco

All in all, I quite enjoyed the Urban Bumpkin. Though the flavors were not flavors I recognized from Indian tacos past, the dish was cohesive and, aside from an overdose of lime juice, well-balanced. It was clearly fusion, but fusion done fairly well, in that ingredients from disparate sources were chosen because they paired well, not as part of any gimmick. The dish is quite substantial, to boot, and, at $8.18 is priced reasonably (no matter how odd the price itself).

But was it street food? Yes and no. We have decided many times before that a taco is “street food,” because it is the kind of food that can be cooked in front of you and is meant to be eaten with your hands, without forks, while standing up. See, e.g., In re El Chilango, 12 Catt. 2 (2012); In re La Tingeria, 18 Catt. 3 (2013); In re Kimchi BBQ Taco, 13 Catt. 2 (2012); In re Sol Mexican Grill, 9 Catt. 4 (2012). In concept, the Urban Native American Taco is similar to other tacos, but, given its sheer bulk, I was unable to eat it without a fork and a knife. This alone could disqualify the dish from the realm of “street food.” Nevertheless, because it is a traditional form of street food (see the memory of San Xavier del Bac above), I would find that it is “street food” and thus entitled to the presumption of affirmance. See In re Hot People Food, 6 Catt. 4 (2012); In re Big Cheese, 6 Catt 2 (2012). I affirm.

AFFIRMED. It is so ordered.

When I first approached the Latin & American Flavors (“LAF”) food truck, it struck me as plain. While the typical food truck these days is dressed up with splashy graphics, LAF is the color of a school bus and its only decoration is a name decal so basic that it probably could have been designed with Microsoft Paint. But don’t get me wrong — these were all good signs. The Justices of this Cart have found that “the best food comes from the least adorned, even spartan, establishments.” In re El Floridano, 2 Catt. 2 (2011). So LAF’s exterior excited me.

Latin & American Flavors

On the other hand, its menu of tacos was not especially exciting. Let’s be honest: there are a lot of taco trucks out on the streets. This Cart has tried quite a few already. See, e.g., In re District Taco, 21 Catt. 2 (2013); In re El Chilango, 12 Catt. 2 (2012); In re La Tingeria, 18 Catt. 3 (2013); In re Sol Mexican Grill, 9 Catt. 4 (2012). Nevertheless, I stepped up to LAF’s window with high hopes for this unassuming food truck.

A simple whiteboard on the truck’s side announced the day’s menu in handwritten lettering. At the top was LAF’s taco deal: 3 tacos for $8. On my visit, the available meats were steak, chicken, and chorizo. I ordered one of each.

Before I can reach the merits of LAF’s tacos, I must determine whether tacos qualify as true street food; that is, “the kind[] of food[] that can be cooked in front of you and [is] meant to be eaten with your hands, without forks, while standing up.” In re Eat Wonky, 2 Catt. 5 (2011). This is easily done. The Cart has repeatedly held that tacos are street food. See District Taco, 21 Catt. 2; El Chilango, 12 Catt. 2; La Tingeria, 18 Catt. 3; Sol Mexican Grill, 9 Catt. 4. Because tacos are street food, the Cart must affirm LAF’s tacos unless they suffer from a significant flaw. See In re Big Cheese, 6 Catt. 2 (2012). Although they were not perfect, LAF’s steak, chicken, and chorizo tacos are affirmed.

Steak, Chicken, and Chorizo Tacos

LAF served its tacos the authentic Mexican way: on two soft corn tortillas and topped with cilantro, onion, and green salsa. It included garnishes of fresh radishes and lime wedges. So far, so good.

Now the big question: how were the meat fillings? The steak, chicken, and chorizo were all flavorful. Even the chicken, which is often most in danger of being bland, was well-seasoned. That being said, the steak and chicken were on the dry side and too finely ground for my liking. They veered too close to the texture of sawdust. The oiliness of the chorizo saved it from a similarly dry fate.

Even though the meats could have been executed better, I was impressed by the heaping portion included in each taco. Of the taco-serving trucks that we have tried to date, LAF wins for the largest serving of meat. I was full after three tacos and remained so through the afternoon, even skipping my usual 3pm snack.

As we often do, my sister and I sampled the mobile gastronomic enterprise on separate days. My sister was met with steak, chicken, and chorizo tacos. I encountered carne asada, chicken, and grilled tilapia.

I assume my “carne asada” and chicken tacos and my sister’s “steak” and chicken tacos were, respectively, the same. Nevertheless, as our assessments differ somewhat, I write separately with regard to those offerings. My sister says that though she found the steak and chicken “flavorful,” she found them to be “dry.” But to quote Dinah Washington, what a difference a day makes. My chicken and carne asada were as moist as a Duncan Hines yellow cake. I have no complaints whatsoever with regard to the carne asada taco — it was delicious — and my only complaint with regard to the chicken taco is that it fell apart when I picked it up. And that’s a rather minor complaint.

I alone, I suppose, encountered LAF’s take on a classic fish taco. LAF prepares its tacos with tilapia — a cheap, relatively flavorless that I associate with institutional kitchens, a fish that nobody likes but nobody actively dislikes because there is so little taste to dislike. That said, LAF’s tilapia taco was flavorful and delicious, a real testament to the truck’s piscine prowess. Its profile was fresh, clean, bright, and vibrant. The fish paired well with the chopped onions, cilantro, and radish slices, and with the pucker of lime. Texturally, the fish was shredded and could almost be described as velvety.

Tilapia, Chicken, Carne Asada Tacos

As my sister notes, the servings were substantial, and more than I expect from a taco truck. Three tacos were more than enough for a satisfying lunch. While perhaps no El Chilango, see In re El Chilango, 12 Catt. 2 (2012), LAF made for a meal I’ll be happy to have again.

In conclusion, LAF is a serious taco truck, and certainly no LAF-ing matter. (My apologies. Had to say it.)

AFFIRMED.

Once upon a time, there was a mobile gastronomic enterprise named El Floridano. I liked it very much, as did my sister. See In re El Floridano, 2 Catt. 2 (2011). I sampled its pulled pork and mango-based sauce — two things I traditionally eschew — and was blown away. That takes some doing. El Floridano was a really superb truck.

But, in the words of the inimitable Nelly Furtado, all good things come to an end. And so El Floridano went away and became something else entirely. It became a brick and mortar. One called Mothership. (Not to be confused with Dr. Funkenstein’s vehicle of supergroovalisticprosifunkstication.) It is located in a place called Park View, an overlooked stretch of Georgia Avenue south of Petworth, which, judging by the restaurant’s mason jar water glasses, is a neighborhood on the verge of a hipster breakdown. The whole enterprise frankly reeks of facial hair and horn-rimmed glasses. But, then again, aren’t we all just a little hipster? And who am I to talk?

One fine, particularly comfortable late summer evening, my clerk and I met my sister and her clerk for oral argument at one of Mothership’s sidewalk picnic tables. Spotify (complete with ads for Spotify) streamed from a speaker suspended above us. We ordered drinks — an acceptable Negroni for me, a decent and rather bitter pear-based concoction for my clerk, and beers for my sister and her clerk — and perused the menu.

The menu itself is a messy hodgepodge of influences. My sister and I tend to agree on very little. But one thing we have shared during our time together on the bench is a healthy suspicion for fusion — a sometimes unfortunate remnant of the 90s (like Natalie Imbruglia’s Torn) which we find too often to be merely code for confusion (again, like Torn). See, e.g., In re Sâuçá, 4 Catt. 3 (2011); In re Seoul Food, 3 Catt. 1 (2011); In re TaKorean, 1 Catt. 4 (2011).

I suppose El Floridano was also fusion, what with its Cuban offerings and its banh mi, but I never made it beyond the delicious Pan con Lechon, and, I don’t know, the truck’s menu felt somewhat more cohesive. Mothership’s menu features Old American, New American, pan-New Southern, Cuban and Puerto Rican, pan-Latin, Italian, and Asian influences without offering any clear vision of what it all means. The influences were not so much fused but peddled separately without complementing one another. Imagine a food court (Taco Bell, Panda Express, Sbarro, KFC) but as a single business, with a waiter, with a liquor license, and with the unmistakable Deliverance-style banjo thumping of one Mr. Marcus Mumford. To be fair, the tableware wasn’t a food court’s Styrofoam. No, it was plastic.

Oxtail & Bone Marrow Patty

We opted for three starters:

• Oxtail and bone marrow patty with spicy guava sauce, mesclun greens, and cotija cheese ($8)
• Steamed buns with shaved beef tongue, pickled green mango, and papaya ($7)*
• Lemongrass dashi steamed PEI mussels with tomatoes and shallots ($10)*

and three main courses:

• Slow-cooked wild boar bucatini with shallots, grape tomatoes, clipped herbs, and butter ($20)*
• Lower Potomac blue cat fish with creamy asiago grits and tasso gravy ($14)*
• Cuban pizza with roast pork, Edwards Virginia ham, swiss cheese, pickles, and mustard béchamel ($16)

and, for dessert, a chocolate mousse with shortbread cookie ($6)*.

(* These dishes were ordered as part of a restaurant-week special but are available on the ordinary menu at the prices listed above.)

Wild Boar Bucatini

Oxtail and Bone Marrow Patty. Yelp reviews led us to expect several smallish empanadillas. Instead, we received a decently sized patty. The crust was good – golden, buttery, flaky, exactly what one expects from a good crust. The oxtail itself was palatable but ended up overpowered by the excellent crust. The bone marrow was undetectable.

Steamed Buns with Shaved Beef Tongue. The steam buns were of this variety rather than this variety. They were good. Even better was the shaved beef tongue itself, which was tender, flavorful, and texturally luxurious.

Steamed Mussels. The mussels were fine but bland. Nothing much to write about. Inoffensive, palatable, but not particularly recommended or discouraged.

Wild Boar Bucatini. This was one of the best dishes we sampled. That said, it was a pretty mediocre dish. The flavors were well developed enough, and the bucatini were well prepared, but I think I could have whipped this dish up at home (if boar were ever on my shopping list). The dish even looked like something I might whip up at home.

Blue Cat Fish

Blue Cat Fish. This was, hands down, the worst dish we sampled. The fish tasted, well, fishy. (Fishy fish does not taste good, for some reason, in the same way that beefy beef or ducky duck might taste delicious.) My mother always told me not to order catfish because it’s a bottom-feeder. I never really heeded her warning because lobster and shrimp are also bottom feeders and yet are perfectly delectable. But Mothership’s catfish tasted exactly like one would expect a bottom eater to taste. As for the grits, I have a high bar for them. In this case, they were bland and not nearly as well prepared as I might have liked. The advertised tasso was undetectable.

Cuban Pizza. The Cuban pizza is, in theory, a classic Cuban sandwich reimagined as a pizza. Cf. In re A’ Lo Cubano, 22 Catt. 3 (2013). Really, the Cuban pizza was poorly named. It did not read as a pizza at all, but rather as something more like a mediocre flatbread with scattered pig bits, Swiss cheese, and pickle. The mustard béchamel was not a sauce in the manner usually employed by a pizza. There was a hint of mustard across the flatbread, but little more than a hint.

Chocolate Mousse. The chocolate mousse was chalky, oddly lumpy, and tasted less of chocolate and more of a heavy pour of triple sec. Imagine a badly-executed milk chocolate orange ball. The orange-flavor wasn’t advertised on the menu, and neither my sister and I nor our clerks were expecting such a sharp tang of citrus. The unexpected shock was offputting. As for the shortbread cookie, it was not shortbread. In fact, it tasted more like pound cake. Again, not as advertised, and the shock was unwelcome.

In the end, there were promising notes (the steamed buns with shaved beef tongue, the shell of the oxtail and bone marrow patty); there were mediocre notes which, with a bit of tinkering, could be better dishes (steamed mussels, oxtail and bone marrow patty, wild boar bucatini); and there were poor notes (Cuban pizza) and very poor notes (blue cat fish, chocolate mousse). Mothership’s menu is marred by fusion confusion, while its food preparation is marked by deep inconsistency. With a bit of careful ordering, Mothership could, perhaps, provide a passable meal. But having to be that careful about what you order at a restaurant takes most of the fun out of restaurant dining. Mothership feels like it’s trying too hard to be the hipster bar and grille of Park View and not trying hard enough with its food. That’s a shame. El Floridano was a gem.

I’m sure my sister will question how it is I was able to find jurisdiction to review a restaurant from the owner of a now-defunct food truck. For the reasons put forth in my dissenting opinion in In re Pupatella, 8 Catt. 4 (2012), I find again that there is no temporal restriction on our jurisdictional test. As for the “sibling relationship” between El Floridano and Mothership, I find the test of In re Shanghai Lounge, 23 Catt. 3 (2013) to be satisfied.

For these reasons, this case is

REMANDED to Mothership for revision.

CATTLEYA, J., dissenting.

My brother was right to guess that I would question the finding of jurisdiction in this case.  When we granted cartiorari to Mothership, and indeed when we dined at Mothership, the owner had not yet officially closed the El Floridano food truck. Thus, at that time, the Cart had jurisdiction to review Mothership based on its relationship with a concurrently operating food truck. See SUNdeVICH v. SUNdeVICH, 22 Catt. 1 (2013); In re Shanghai Lounge, 23 Catt. 3 (2013). But when El Floridano closed its window while our review was still pending, the Cart lost its power to release an opinion on Mothership. See In re Pupatella, 8 Catt. 4 (2012).

We must abide by the limits of the jurisdiction granted to us in the Judiciary Act of 2011 (Cartiorari Act). If we continue to follow my brother’s expansive vision of jurisdiction, this respected tribunal soon will be reviewing restaurants with owners who like food trucks and restaurants which include food truck owners as their regular customers—and then this tribunal will be respected no more.

Although I shared my brother’s disappointment with Mothership’s dishes, this Cart has no authority to review them. The grant of cartiorari should be dismissed as improvidently granted.

As reported a few days ago, some food trucks are having a hard time of it during the government shutdown. For more recent information, see this article from Washington City Paper and this video from the Washington Post.

New Food Truck Regulations

We’re now 11 days into the new food truck regulations, which were published late last month. The lottery begins November 1. Read more from Tim Carman at Washington Post.

Sit-Down “Street Food” Experience

We at the Supreme Cart have struggled to define what is “street food.” Maketto, a pop-up at Hanoi House on 14th Street from Toki Underground veteran Erik Bruner-Yang, purports to offer an Asian “street food” experience in a sit-down atmosphere (Asian Fortune). We’ll let you be the judge.

Mayor Gray Proposes Ban on Styrofoam Food Containers

Washington Business Journal reports.

Around the World

“Food Truck Pioneer Battles Food Deserts with High Cuisine.” NPR reports on the newest effort from the chef behind LA’s Kogi. Locally, the Washington Post recently reported on a similar effort in Prince George’s County from Everlasting Life (@EverlastingLyfe).

Somehow we missed the inaugural World Street Food Congress, which took place in Singapore in May and June. Even Bourdain was there, proclaiming, “Street food, I believe, is the salvation of the human race.” We affirm. Until next year, here are the 2013 World Street Food Award winners. Nothing from the DC area (yet).

One evening after a long day of work in my chambers, I began to make my way home when I spotted a food truck on the far side of the metro station. Uncommon as it is to see a food truck offering dinner service, I immediately changed my evening plans, put my metro card away, and headed towards a food truck called PhoWheels.

PhoWheels

PhoWheels, as one can guess from the name, is a Vietnamese food truck that serves pho. But, in its own words, it is “[n]ot just a PhoTruck [sic].” It offers “a modern interpretation of traditional Viet cuisine, where comforting favorite dishes blend seamlessly w[ith] bold new flavors.” One bold new flavor that appeared on its menu this past September was the Astro Doughnut Bánh Mì.

This unusual offering was the result of a collaboration between PhoWheels and Astro Doughnuts. The DC doughnut-maker created a savory flavor made with bacon, cheddar, and chives to go with PhoWheels’s bánh mì sandwich. At PhoWheels, the sandwich comes with the usual toppings of cilantro and pickled radishes and carrots, plus the addition of sliced cucumbers and truffle aioli. For the main filling, the customer has three choices: 1) “5 spice maple glazed porkbelly [sic]”; 2) “[s]oy garlic chicken”; or 3) “[m]ushroom-onion tofu.”

Feeling adventurous, I opted for the pork belly bánh mì on an Astro doughnut. I also ordered a tofu bánh mì on a French baguette, the usual glutinous container for a bánh mì. PhoWheels’s menu includes two everyday bread options: a baguette or a croissant. Whichever way the customer pairs the breads and meats (or “meat” in the case of the tofu), the cost is $8 plus tax.

True Street Food

Little time needs to be spent on the initial question facing the Cart: whether a bánh mì is street food, or “the kind[] . . . that can be cooked in front of you and [is] meant to be eaten with your hands, without forks, while standing up.” In re Eat Wonky, 2 Catt. 5 (2011). This court has already determined that sandwiches in general, and bánh mì sandwiches in particular, are street food. See In re Lemongrass, 7 Catt. 1 (2012). As true street food, I am required to affirm PhoWheels’s bánh mì sandwiches absent significant flaws with the offerings. In re Big Cheese, 6 Catt. 2 (2012).

Astro Doughnut Bánh Mì with 5 Spice Maple Glazed Pork Belly

Pork Belly Bánh Mì on an Astro Doughnut

I’ll start with my conclusion: the pork belly bánh mì wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t great either. As my youthful law clerk might say, “Just eh.” The biggest issue, for me, was the doughnut. Luckily, what pops into my head when I think of a doughnut—a cloyingly sweet, glazed pastry—was not what I got. But unluckily, what I did get was a tasteless and textureless bun. While the doughnut was made with bacon, cheddar, and chives, none of those flavors were detectable. And as far as texture goes, it was one-dimensional and boring. The thick and somewhat dry bun distracted my taste buds from the sandwich filling when it should have accentuated the filling. The sandwich probably would have been more interesting if the bun (I can’t call it a doughnut; it really wasn’t one) had been grilled like a Panini.

The pork belly was disappointing too, unfortunately. It was bland. Sure, it was fatty (it was pork belly, after all), but it was underseasoned. I detected neither the seasoning of five spices, nor the sweetness of a maple glaze.

The highlight of the sandwich was the pickled radishes and carrots. Fresh and crunchy. And, thank goodness, a whole lot of it piled high. PhoWheels got this part right.

Mushroom-Onion Tofu Bánh Mì on a French Baguette

Tofu Bánh Mì on a Baguette

I was impressed with PhoWheels’s tofu bánh mì on a baguette as much as I was unimpressed with the pork belly bánh mì on a doughnut. The delicious pickled radishes and carrots were there, plus this time the “meat” (tofu) and bread (baguette) were of equally high execution and quality. The tofu pieces were deep-fried and tossed in a tasty mushroom and onion sauce. And the baguette—oh, the baguette!—was everything I wished it to be. Crusty on the outside, and moist and soft inside. This was a very solid bánh mì offering.

To answer the question that might be lingering in the minds of regular bánh mì eaters: Yes, customers of Song Que in Arlington’s Eden Center will probably balk at PhoWheels’s $8 price tag (compared with the less than $4 that Song Que charges for its (smaller) bánh mì sandwiches), but I didn’t regret getting this practically-delivered-to-my-door bánh mì. Plus, PhoWheels offers a free bánh mì after you buy ten.

Conclusion

Two essential components of the classic bánh mì sandwich—the baguette and the pickled radishes and carrots—were spot on at PhoWheels. Unfortunately, while the vegetarian tofu was a surprisingly satisfying find, the pork belly was bland.

Customers who missed the chance to get a bánh mì on an Astro doughnut last month need not worry. The doughnut added nothing special to the sandwich. However, I appreciated PhoWheels’s out-of-the-box thinking and willingness to try something different. If it creates a bánh mì sandwich with other breads of the world in the future, I would probably get in line. Bagel bánh mì, anyone?

AFFIRMED. It is so ordered.

While the Supreme Cart continues its business through the lapse of appropriations, food trucks have not been so lucky.

Washington City Paper reports PORC instructed its crew not to “go anywhere near a government building.” Even at Franklin Square, PORC only did “about half of the business it normally does, ultimately losing money for the day,” leading PORC to “shut down the truck for the duration of the shutdown.”

PORC is shutdown along with the gov’t. Thanks for taking away all of our business, congress. We’ll be back up when those morons do their job

— PORC (@porcmobile) October 2, 2013

The Washington Post (AP) reports BBQ Bus has “experienced a 40 percent drop in sales, while “[s]ales at several gourmet trucks are down 50 percent or more.” Many trucks have had to lay off employees or cease or decrease operation for the remainder of the shutdown.

For more information, read an interview with Che Ruddell-Tabisola, BBQ Bus co-owner and Political Director for the DC Food Truck Association, at InTheCapital, and watch interviews with Leeland Morris of Red Hook Lobster Pound and Christopher Lee of Cirque Cuisine [UPI].

1. Steak Bibimbap, Seoul Food

Steak Bibimbap

Steak and a sunny side up egg served on a bed of sticky rice topped with mixed baby greens, carrots, daikon radish, and red radish. Finished off with a spicy pepper paste sauce.

Nominated by: Chief Justice Jeremy & Justice Cattleya

The verdict: The steak is “tender, but has some of the chew expected of Korean-style beef,” while the egg has a “gently crisped underbelly and a still runny yolk.” The dish is completed nicely by the “freshness and the crunch of the vegetables.” A dish that you can eat again and again. “[F]antastic, amazing, incredible,” the Chief Justice raved. In re Seoul Food, 3 Catt. 2 (2011).

2. Connecticut-Style Lobster Roll, Red Hook Lobster Pound

Connecticut-Style Lobster Roll

Fresh lobster poached in butter, garnished with green onion, and served on a roll.

Nominated by: Chief Justice Jeremy & Justice Cattleya

The verdict: The roll is absolutely worth the $15 price tag, but it’s strictly a “special occasion” meal. The roll is filled with “large pieces of fresh, perfectly poached, ever succulent lobster meat enveloped in a light sheen of melted butter.” In re Red Hook Lobster Pound, 2 Catt. 1 (2011). The “buttered bread developed perfect grill marks and a toasty outside . . . [while] the inside was still soft and pillowy.” Id. (Cattleya, J., concurring). “[A]n exceptional experience.”

3. Chorizo Sope, La Tingeria

Chicken Taco & Chorizo Sope

A thick tortilla topped with refried beans, lettuce, onion, cilantro, and cheese.

Nominated by: Justice Cattleya

The verdict: This is “not [] the prettiest (or least caloric) of foods,” but it is “spectacular.” The fried tortilla had “a nice crunchy texture, while the thick center was still soft.” The chorizo was “wonderfully fatty and spicy” and “the refried beans were flavorful.” Justice Cattleya explained, “As soon as I ate the last bite, I wanted to run back and order another one.” In re La Tingeria, 18 Catt. 3 (2013).

4. The Milan Sandwich, SUNdeVICH

Milan Sandwich

Eggs, pancetta, gorgonzola, arugula, and garlic mayo served on a baguette.

Nominated by: Chief Justice Jeremy & Justice Cattleya

The verdict: Although classified as a breakfast item, the Milan’s “perfect” combination of flavors makes it satisfying at “any time of the day.” “The bread was wonderfully crusty, the pancetta was salty, the arugula added pepperiness, [] the gorgonzola was strong and creamy,” and the eggs “made every bite a joy to eat.” SUNdeVICH v. SUNdeVICH, 22 Catt. 1 (2013).

5. Chicken Pie, Dangerously Delicious Pies

Chicken Pie with Side Salad

Pie filled with roasted chicken, potatoes, and vegetables in a light cream sauce. Served with a side salad of mixed field greens and a balsamic vinaigrette dressing.

Nominated by: Chief Justice Jeremy & Justice Cattleya

The verdict: “Darn fine pie,” concluded the Justices. A real slice of pie with a top and bottom crust, and generously stuffed with filling. No short cuts here. The chicken was “juicy and well-seasoned” and the crust was “fresh” and “held up against the thick filling.” Even the side salad was better than average. In re Dangerously Delicious Pies, 15 Catt. 1 (2012).

6. Chorizo Taco, El Chilango

Tacos with Asada, Pollo, Al Pastor, Chorizo, Lengua, and Mixtos

Two corn tortillas filled with chorizo, onion, cilantro, and a squish of lime. Served with fresh radishes and cucumbers on the side.

Nominated by: Chief Justice Jeremy & Justice Cattleya

The verdict: The “chorizo was spicy and salty,” and “the onion, cilantro, and lime provided a cool and fresh topping to balance the heat.” The unusual side of radish and cucumber slices provided a “nice, crisp bite to set off the textural softness of the tacos.” At only $2 each, these authentic Mexican tacos “didn’t disappoint [the] stomach or drain [the] wallet.” In re El Chilango, 12 Catt. 2 (2012).

Questions and press inquiries may be directed to supremecartblog@gmail.com or posted in the comments to this post.

No. 96. Mothership. Cartiorari granted on the question of whether dinner is within the jurisdiction of the Cart.

No. 97. Latin & American Flavors. Cartiorari granted on the questions of steak, chicken, chorizo, and tilapia tacos.

No. 98. Urban Bumpkin BBQ. Cartiorari granted on the question of Urban Native American Taco.

There is a wonderful Indonesian restaurant in a fascinatingly diverse strip mall off Van Dorn Street in Alexandria: Satay Sarinah. They offer a fried duck which, as you might imagine, I am quite fond of. They also offer a chocolate avocado smoothie which I adore. And, if you’re in the mood, they offer kopi luwak 100%.

Satay Sarinah has done us all a favor and opened up a food truck, Saté Truck, which roams the streets of the District. According to their website, they are the first food truck in the United States to feature Indonesian food. I don’t know offhand whether this is or is not true, but it could very well be. It’s not as though there are a lot of Indonesian restaurants in the metro area to begin with. (But, really, there should be. It’s delicious.)

Saté Truck

Saté Truck (“ST”) offers a variety of dishes: chicken sate, mie ayam (egg noodles, chicken, oyster mushrooms, sesame sauce, bok choy, and crispy wonton), and a combo platter (coconut rice, beef rendang, chicken sate, vegetable stew, and corn fritters). A vegan menu is purportedly “coming soon,” but that is not the subject of this review.

The name of the truck is Saté Truck and so, naturally, I opted for the chicken sate (the diacritic may or may not be optional; it may apparently also be grave or acute). It came with coconut rice, peanut sauce, and vegetable stew.

Our first inquiry is whether sate/saté/satè/satay is “street food” under our jurisprudence and thus entitled to the presumption of affirmance. See In re Big Cheese, 6 Catt. 2 (2012); In re Eat Wonky, 2 Catt. 5 (2011). We have defined “street food” to be food that (1) is cooked or capable of being cooked in front of the customer; (2) is meant to be eaten with one’s hands; and (3) is eaten or is capable of being eaten while standing up. In re Big Cheese, 6 Catt. 2; In re Eat Wonky, 2 Catt. 5. Served on skewers, the chicken sate is, clearly, “street food” as we have defined that term. Besides, it is classic street food in its place of origin.  See In re Hot People Food, 6 Catt. 4 (2012). The fact that it is also served with less mobile accoutrements need not alter this determination. See In re OoH DaT ChickeN, 16 Catt. 3 (2013). Therefore,  ST’s chicken sate is entitled to the presumption of affirmance.

I affirm.

Chicken Saté

As noted above, the dish is composed of four parts. As is our practice, see In re TaKorean, 1 Catt. 4 (2011), I consider each in turn.

Chicken Sate. Sate, of course, is “seasoned, skewered, and grilled meat.” Chicken, of course, is chicken. (Or is it?) Chicken sate, then, is “seasoned, skewered, and grilled [chicken].” The chicken was well seasoned (turmeric?) and quite flavorful. It was well grilled, with a beautiful smokey char but still entirely succulent. (I suppose the chicken was well skewered, as well, but that’s no great feat so far I can tell.)

Peanut Sauce. The peanut sauce renders probably involves soy sauce, sambal, and shallots, but I could be wrong. The sauce was wonderful, savory and sweet, and complemented the succulent chicken magnificently.

Vegetable Stew. While only a side, the vegetable stew was exquisite: a mixture of green beans, carrots, cauliflower, etc. simmered in a seasoned (turmeric?) broth.

Coconut Rice. The jasmine rice was well prepared and flavored with coconut.

For these reasons

AFFIRMED. It is so ordered.

The question before the Cart today is whether we have jurisdiction to review Shanghai Lounge (“SL”), an Asian fusion restaurant located on Wisconsin Avenue in Georgetown. The owner of SL is not wholly unfamiliar to the Justices of this court. SL’s owner comes from Hot People Food, a food truck that we have twice reviewed. See In re Hot People Food (The Hot People Dumplings Case), 6 Catt. 4 (2012); In re Hot People Food (The Sassy Chicken Case), 7 Catt. 2 (2012).

I. Governing Authority

Although the Judiciary Act of 2011 (Cartiorari Act) limits the Supreme Cart’s jurisdiction to “food carts, trucks, and other transitory alimentary establishments,” we have exercised jurisdiction over non-mobile, brick-and-mortar (B&M) establishments on the basis of “[a] relationship with a mobile gastronomic enterprise . . . within our jurisdiction.” SUNdeVICH v. SUNdeVICH, 22 Catt. 1 (2013).

In In re Curbside Cupcakes Kiosk, 20 Catt. 4 (2013) and SUNdeVICH v. SUNdeVICH, 22 Catt. 1 (2013), we reviewed two permanent locations (a stationary kiosk inside a shopping mall and a B&M shop, respectively) because the owners operated food trucks and the permanent locations served the same menu items as the food trucks. Then in In re SUNdeVICH, 22 Catt. 2 (2013), we expanded our jurisdiction to review different menu items served by a B&M that was affiliated with a food truck, so long as the new menu items were presented under the same branding as the food truck. Most recently, in In re Captain Cookie & The Milkman at Thomas Foolery, 23 Catt. 2 (2013), we granted jurisdiction to a B&M that was unaffiliated with a food truck but had entered into an agreement to serve the food truck’s dishes. Jurisdiction was appropriate because the unaffiliated B&M served the food truck’s dishes to customers in the original form intended by the food truck.

Under our case law, a gastronomic enterprise need not be mobile to fall within our jurisdiction if the nature of its relationship with a food truck is sufficient to warrant review. A “sibling” relationship can qualify. This type of relationship exists when the food truck and B&M come under the same ownership or are part of a single business model. For the Cart to have jurisdiction over the sibling B&M, two conditions must be satisfied. First, the food truck must be in operation along with the B&M; that is, the food truck cannot be defunct. Second, the B&M must either serve the same menu items as the food truck, or if it serves different menu items, it must do so under the same branding as the food truck. However, a B&M might still fall under our jurisdiction even without a “sibling” relationship with a food truck. A B&M, without any prior relationship with a food truck, may enter into an agreement to serve the food truck’s menu items. In this situation, the court may exercise jurisdiction if the B&M serves the food truck’s menu items in the original form intended by the food truck.

II. Analysis

In the present case, the B&M (Shanghai Lounge) and food truck (Hot People Food) have a sibling relationship, as they share a common owner. See Jessica Sidman, Owner of Hot People Food Now Operating Georgetown Chinese Restaurant, Young & Hungry (May 2, 2013). Because a sibling relationship exists here, our analysis must proceed to determine whether the two conditions required by our case law are satisfied.

Does Hot People Food operate concurrently with SL? In order to exercise jurisdiction over SL, Hot People Food cannot be defunct. While Hot People Food has not been in service for several months, the owner has said that the food truck will be back on the road. Id. Because the food truck has not been shut down, this first condition is met.

Does SL serve the same menu items, or different menu items under the same branding? SL’s menu is different from Hot People Food’s. Neither Hot People Food’s “Bikini Beef” nor “Sassy Chicken” appears on SL’s menu. Admittedly, we do not know for sure that none of SL’s beef or chicken dishes is the same as “Bikini Beef” or “Sassy Chicken.” This is because we received multiple versions of “Sassy Chicken” on different days and so we do not know what “Sassy Chicken” is. However, SL does not call any of its dishes “Bikini Beef” or “Sassy Chicken.” In addition, it has been reported that SL’s “menu is completely separate from Hot People’s menu.” Id. Thus, we conclude that the menu items are different.

Because SL’s menu items are different from Hot People Food’s, we may exercise jurisdiction over SL only if SL presents these different menu items under the same branding as the Hot People Food truck. It does not. The Hot People Food name does not appear anywhere on SL’s website. The “About Us” section of the website introduces the owner but makes no mention of the owner’s experience in the mobile food business. Moreover, the record shows that the owner considered changing SL’s name to Hot People but ultimately chose not to adopt the name. Id. It seems clear to us that SL’s menu is not branded under the Hot People Food name and that this decision was made purposefully. Therefore, because SL’s distinct menu does not fall under Hot People Food’s branding, the second condition is not satisfied.

III. Conclusion

The Cart does not have the power to review SL’s Asian fusion cuisine. Although the B&M is related to a food truck that is within our jurisdiction, the relationship is not the kind that permits us to expand our powers of review. The case is

DISMISSED.

Captain Cookie & The Milkman is a DC-based food truck. Thomas Foolery is not. This brick and mortar hangout near Dupont Circle, however, serves Captain Cookie’s ice cream sandwiches. The question before the Supreme Cart is whether we have jurisdiction to review Captain Cookie’s ice cream sandwiches sold at Thomas Foolery.

I. Jurisdiction

The Judiciary Act of 2011 (Cartiorari Act) grants the Supreme Cart “exclusive jurisdiction of all food carts, trucks, and other transitory alimentary establishments.” Our Rule of Procedure 1-2 explains that this grant extends to “all mobile gastronomic enterprises situated throughout those parts of (a) the County of Arlington, Virginia, (b) the District of Columbia, and (c) the City of Alexandria, Virginia, which are reasonably proximate to public transportation of a reasonably rapid and efficient character.”

It is clear that this court has jurisdiction to review ice cream sandwiches sold by Captain Cookie’s food truck. The food truck is a mobile bakery that sets up near several metro stops in the DC area. It is less clear whether we have jurisdiction to review Captain Cookie’s ice cream sandwiches served at Thomas Foolery, a brick and mortar establishment. Although the text of our guiding legislation seems to suggest that jurisdiction is lacking, our case law prevents such an incomplete and rushed conclusion.

This court has twice before granted jurisdiction to review foodstuffs from brick and mortar sellers. First, in In re Curbside Cupcakes Kiosk, 20 Catt. 4 (2013), we exercised jurisdiction over cupcakes sold at a stationary kiosk located in the food court of a shopping mall. The kiosk was affiliated with a food truck (Curbside Cupcakes) that was within the Cart’s jurisdiction, and it offered the same cupcakes as the food truck. Then, in SUNdeVICH v. SUNdeVICH, 22 Catt. 1 (2013), and its companion case, In re SUNdeVICH, 22 Catt. 2 (2013), we extended the Cart’s jurisdiction to review sandwiches from a brick and mortar restaurant because it concurrently operated a food truck, and it either offered the same sandwiches as the food truck or offered different sandwiches under the same branding as the food truck. These two cases show that “[e]ven if a gastronomic enterprise is not mobile, the Cart may exercise jurisdiction over it by virtue of its relationship with a mobile gastronomic enterprise that is within our jurisdiction.” SUNdeVICH, 22 Catt. 1.

However, the case before us is not like the brick and mortar establishments that we have reviewed in the past. The brick and mortars shared “sisterly” relationships with food trucks, as they were operated by a single entity as part of a united business model. Here, the nature of the relationship between the brick and mortar (Thomas Foolery) and the food truck (Captain Cookie) is different. They are separate business entities. By mutual agreement, Thomas Foolery includes on its menu ice cream sandwiches from Captain Cookie.

Because our legislation and case law provide little guidance, we look to the law of another high court in this land. We are ultimately persuaded by the Original Package Doctrine, announced by the U.S. Supreme Court in Maryland v. Brown, 25 U.S. (12 Wheat.)  419 (1827). In Brown, the Court found that a good that moved from one state to another state remained under federal control if the good was sold in its original package or form. Similarly, we hold that the Supreme Cart has jurisdiction over a food truck’s dish that moves to a distinct brick and mortar business if the dish is subsequently sold to the customer in the same package or form as intended by the food truck.

Here, Captain Cookie’s ice cream sandwiches move from its food truck to Thomas Foolery, a distinct brick and mortar business. Moreover, Thomas Foolery sells the ice cream sandwiches in the package or form intended by Captain Cookie. The customer can create the same custom ice cream sandwiches at Thomas Foolery as he or she can from Captain Cookie’s food truck. For the same price of $4, the customer chooses from the same selection of cookie and ice cream flavors. Thomas Foolery then combines the two cookies and ice cream scoop into a sandwich the same way that Captain Cookie does (i.e., cookie-ice cream-cookie). What is more, not only does Thomas Foolery serve sandwiches made from the same cookies and ice creams, but it makes clear that the ice cream sandwiches on its menu come from Captain Cookie. See Thomas Foolery’s website here and here. Because Thomas Foolery sells ice cream sandwiches in the form intended by Captain Cookie and packaged with Captain Cookie’s name, this court has authority to review Captain Cookie’s ice cream sandwiches sold at Thomas Foolery.

II. True Street Food

Before we review the merits of Captain Cookie’s ice cream sandwiches, we must pause to determine the standard of review appropriate in this case. If a dish before the Cart is “street food,” then we must affirm the dish absent a significant flaw. In re Big Cheese, 6 Catt. 2 (2012).

We have long defined street food as “the kind[] . . . that can be cooked in front of you and [is] meant to be eaten with your hands, without forks, while standing up.” In re Eat Wonky, 2 Catt. 5 (2011). We recognize that Oxford Dictionaries Online have very recently added “street food” to its digital pages, defining it as “prepared or cooked food sold by vendors in a street or other public location for immediate consumption.” Street Food, OXFORD DICTIONARIES ONLINE, oxforddictionaries.com (last visited August 28, 2013). However, we decline to amend our definition to follow ODO’s broader definition.

This Cart has already determined that ice cream is street food. See In re Sinplicity, 9 Catt. 3 (2012); In re Pleasant Pops, 21 Catt. 4 (2013). Sandwiches are also street food. See, e.g., A’ Lo Cubano, 22 Catt. 3 (2013), In re Borinquen Lunch Box, 10 Catt. 3 (2012); In re Hometown Heros, 14 Catt. 2 (2012); In re Kafta Mania, 17 Catt. 3 (2013); In re Lemongrass, 7 Catt. 1 (2012); In re Pepe, 13 Catt. 4 (2012); In re Red Hook Lobster Pound, 9 Catt. 1 (2012); In re Rolling Ficelle, 6 Catt. 3 (2012); In re Wassub, 13 Catt. 1 (2012); In re Willie’s Po’Boy, 7 Catt. 4 (2012). Ice cream sandwiches, then, must be street food too, and so Captain Cookie’s ice cream sandwiches at Thomas Foolery are entitled to the presumption of affirmance.

III. Captain Cookie’s Ice Cream Sandwiches

Custom ice cream sandwiches

At Thomas Foolery, little and big kids alike can create their own ice cream sandwiches by picking two cookies and one ice cream flavor. The menu includes flavors that are always available, plus special cookie and ice cream flavors daily. Everyday cookie flavors include chocolate chip, snickerdoodle, Nutella, peanut butter, and ginger molasses. Everyday ice creams include chocolate, vanilla, and black cherry. We created two ice cream sandwiches. First, we opted for Nutella cookies with vanilla ice cream. Second, we chose ginger molasses cookies with maple bacon ice cream, the daily ice cream special.

The Nutella cookies, we are happy to say, tasted like Nutella. They were chocolatey but not overwhelmingly sweet. The center was soft and chewy, while the outside had a nice, crisp shell. The ginger molasses cookies were rich while not too gingery. A beautiful coating of granulated sugar gave a nice bite. The ginger molasses cookies, however, were not as soft and chewy in the middle.

While the cookies off Captain Cookie’s food truck are often served hot out of the on-board oven, the cookies sold at Thomas Foolery are understandably less likely to be as fresh and warm. It turns out that this is a good thing for ice cream sandwiches, as the ice cream would melt too quickly against warm cookies. For photographic evidence, see here and here. To the very last bite, our ice cream sandwiches held up.

Little needs to be said about the vanilla ice cream. It was nothing more and nothing less than what we expected from vanilla ice cream. The maple bacon ice cream, on the other hand, was a surprise. It was decadent. To our delight, the ice cream was not merely flavored with bacon; it was chock-full of bacon pieces.

Although the ice cream between our cookies did not melt into a drippy puddle, it still made for slightly messy eating. Biting down on the cookies made the ice cream squish out the sides. However, because this was the result of a very, very generously-sized scoop of ice cream placed between the cookies, an ice cream lover such as I cannot truly complain.

IV. Conclusion

We enjoyed Captain Cookie’s ice cream sandwiches at Thomas Foolery. Our reader should not wonder whether an ice cream sandwich should be had, but rather which cookies and which ice cream should be combined together first.

AFFIRMED.

JEREMY, C.J., concurring.

I agree with my sister’s analysis of our case law. We undoubtedly have jurisdiction to consider a mobile gastronomic enterprise’s wares as openly purveyed by a separate brick and mortar. We may presume the offering is identical to that purveyed by the mobile gastronomic enterprise absent strong evidence to the contrary.

I agree also with my sister’s assessment of those of Captain Cookie’s ice cream sandwiches we had the opportunity to sample. I would note, however, that where my sister writes that “[b]iting down on the cookies made the ice cream squish out the sides,” she refers to her own experience. I, for one, am a rather dainty eater, with a touch as soft as a lace doily.

I would, however, go a step beyond my sister’s analysis. In my mind, we cannot grant jurisdiction to Captain Cookie through Thomas Foolery and yet ignore the question of Thomas Foolery itself. Thomas Foolery is housed in a basement on P Street, born out of the overwhelming donut smell of Zeke’s DC Donutz. It is nominally a bar, though its vibe is more like campus snack bars portrayed on shows like Boy Meets World and Saved By the Bell. That may be purposeful, as the entire place is centered around a campy nostalgia for the rough period 1985-1995. There are pogs to be played and Mario Kart to be won.

On the Sunday afternoon my sister and I visited Thomas Foolery, we were its only customers. Granted it was a Sunday afternoon, but, frankly, DC is a boozy enough town that we shouldn’t have been the only customers. That said, I did find that Thomas Foolery had one thing on the traditional food truck: a liquor license. Between the hours of 5:00pm and 7:00pm daily, there is an “Angry Hour,” in which $1 is deducted from the price of your libation if you order in an irate tone. (While I am not the world’s greatest thespian, I did find that a well placed swear word paired with an obscene IPA did the trick.) There are other rules too. (As a court of law, we tend to be enamored of rules.)

Other business took me back to Thomas Foolery the following Thursday. At that time, the space was teeming with patrons such that we had to wait for a table. For the price of my driver’s license, we played Cards Against Humanity while we imbibed and ate sandwiches from Big Cheese (verdict: better than the truck, but still mediocre and overpriced). Altogether a rather different experience than the previous Sunday. Time will tell whether the establishment will last, but it was, all in all, an entertaining evening and a lively venue.

And that, for what it’s worth, is Thomas Foolery.

If there’s one thing the DC dining scene loves, it’s small plates. Sometimes, this format is successful, e.g., Jaleo. Sometimes, it’s less so, e.g., Ambar. (Try splitting two tiny stuffed cabbage six ways. Hint: It can’t be done gracefully.) So why shouldn’t a mobile gastronomic enterprise have in on the fun. Here enters Tapas Truck, which, according to its website, serves “Authentic Spanish Cuisine.” Of course the website is also chock full of imagery of delicious-looking paellas and hams wholly unlike anything sold off the truck.

Tapas Truck

For $10, I was able to choose 3 out of 4 tapas options. My clerk and I opted for the following:

• Pollo Valenzia [sic]: “Pan roasted chicken breast in our roasted pepper sauce, served with rice.”
• Shrimp pil pil: “Crispy shrimp in a sweet and spicy sauce.”
• Corn fritters: “Sweet corn nuggets served with cilantro lime sauce.”

(We decided against the fried calamari, salted and peppered with smokey sauce.)

Pollo Valenzia, Shrimp Pil Pil, Corn Fritters

I’ve been to Spain twice. That is not to say I’m some sort of expert on “authentic Spanish cuisine.” But I am fairly certain the food I sampled was hardly authentic, unless you count some swim-up bar in Benidorm that caters exclusively to Brits and Dutch on holiday. The Pollo Valeniza could have been a Lean Cuisine — somewhat palatable, but entirely forgettable. The shrimp pil pil and the corn fritters tasted like fare you might find at some Parrothead-themed beach bar in Virginia Beach: overly sweet, a gloppy sauce, best paired with something rum-based in a tiki head.

I was unimpressed.

Ordinarily, I would devote some time determining whether the sampled fare was “street food,” for, under our jurisprudence true street food is entitled to a presumption of affirmance whereas non-street food must prove itself entirely on its merits. Whether or not Tapas Truck’s fare qualifies as street food is immaterial. Either way it is unsuccessful.

REMANDED to Tapas Truck for revision. It is so ordered.

No. 92. Captain Cookie & The Milkman at Thomas Foolery. Cartiorari granted on the question of whether ice cream sandwiches are within the jurisdiction of the Cart.

No. 93. Shanghai Lounge. Cartiorari granted on the question of whether Asian fusion cuisine is within the jurisdiction of the Cart.

No. 94. Saté Truck. Cartiorari granted on the question of the chicken saté.

I granted cartiorari to The Salsa Room (TSR) Quesadillas and Empanadas (TSRQAE), a mobile offshoot of Columbia Pike’s The Salsa Room, purveying, well, quesadillas and empanadas. Or salteñas, rather, which may or may not even be empanadas at all. A salteña is Bolivian, it is baked, and, I gather, its filling is more soup- or stew-like than that of a more familiar empanada. Forced to choose between the two (sequestration affects even the halls of justice), I opted for a salteña. One of the chorizo variety, to be precise.

TSR Quesadillas & Empanadas

As an initial matter, I must determine whether a salteña is “street food” and therefore entitled to the presumption of affirmance. While the case of DC Empanadas, 1 Catt. 3 (2011), predates our Eat Wonky test for determining whether a given foodstuff is “street food,” the logic of that case makes clear that an empanada is properly considered street food. While there is some uncertainty surrounding whether a salteña is or is not an empanada, legally the two are similar enough concepts that a salteña, too, must be considered “street food” and therefore entitled to the presumption of affirmance.

Visually, TSRQAE’s chorizo salteña is stunning. It is a perfect mound of golden dough — a rather sizable mound at that (and, at $4, something of a steal) — with a thick, shimmering braid along is crest and two red dots, two hypnotic eyes luring you in. It is served with a spoon — which, I am informed, is for salteña posers — and a diminutive vat of a thin hot sauce.

Chorizo empanada

One bite into the salteña reveals its stew-like innards and therein the trickiness of its consumption. My clerk was quick to inform of an unfortunate incident in which an empanada, or what must have been a salteña, ruined a perfectly fine seersucker suit. (N.B. We of the Cart cannot be understood to condone the wearing of seersucker.) Apparently the way to consume a salteña is as follows:

The way I learned to eat saltenas . . . was to hold the pastry upright in one hand and bite off the top. You can drink the liquid immediately, if you’d like, or just nibble down the edges of the saltena, sucking the stew along the way. You’re trying to achieve the perfect balance of pastry and filling with each bite.

Tim Carman, “Immigrant’s Table extra: The Salsa Room truck,” WASH. POST, October 23, 2012. I did not have the benefit of Mr. Carman’s advice at the time though I seemed to have arrived independently at his second method (i.e., nibbling and sucking). In this way, my robes managed to remain unblemished.

Chorizo empanada with hot sauce

The dough itself was rich and a tad sweet, which complimented the salty, comfortably spicy filling of loose chorizo and assorted vegetable. That the dough held up to the stew-like filling was a marvel of pastry engineering. This was not the most complicated or innovative of dishes, but it didn’t really have to be. It was a terrific empanada — er, salteña — and a perfect example of street food done right.

AFFIRMED. It is so ordered.

In Crystal City for the day, I was excited to see a food truck parked on Crystal Drive. The Crystal City BID seems to have scared away most of its burgeoning food truck scene with its “Food Truck Thursdays” failure. (My sister has heard that many food trucks avoid Crystal City like the plague, but who could blame them). But A’ Lo Cubano (“ALC”) had braved the city of the future and set up shop in a particularly perilous spot outside a particularly adversarial Corner Bakery.

(I recall bad blood between Corner Bakery and Seoul Food. And the petition for cartiorari in this case notes the following: “Lady from Corner Bakery interfering (both handing out free treat coupons and also asking the truck to move) – brick and mortars have no clue what to do.” Amen.)

I was eager to sample ALC’s wares.

(Before passing to the questions at hand, I must note that ALC has successfully gotten the song “A Lo Cubano,” by Havanese hip-hop group Orishas, stuck in my head. In the freewheeling halcyon days of KaZaA, a certain high school student may or may not have compiled an album of international rap. Another song, “Così e Cosà,” by Milanese group Articolo 31, proved particularly popular among a certain social group. “Pachka Sigaret,” which isn’t even really rap at all, proved less so.)

I granted cartiorari to ALC’s traditional Cuban sandwich following an emailed petition for cartiorari. While this does not comply with the specific requirements of Rule of Procedure 2-3, I will accept this as a valid Petition as it complies with the spirit, if not the letter, of that Rule.

Cuban Sandwich

As a sandwich is “street food,” ALC’s Cuban sandwich is entitled to the presumption of affirmance announced in Big Cheese, 6 Catt. 2 (2012).

A Cuban sandwich is a pressed sandwich of “Cuban pulled pork, premium sliced ham and imported Swiss cheese” (but imported from where?). A relatively simple thing, a good Cuban sandwich can be a thing of wonder. Unfortunately, despite being home to the Cuban Interests Section of the Swiss Embassy, DC is sorely lacking in decent Cuban food. (Versailles: move north.) At ALC, the Cuban sandwich can be ordered either of two ways:

(1) “traditional,” i.e., with yellow mustard and pickles, or
(2) “con mojo,” i.e., with a “house made spicy pepper sauce.”

Ever the traditionalist, I opted for the first option.  I ordered my sandwich with black beans and rice ($10), which proved a tad al dente for my liking and ultimately forgettable. The petition for cartiorari likewise notes: “Rice&Beans – $2 for essentially 2 oz of dried out rice and beans.  Unforgiveable.” I agree. The sandwich itself, however, was fantastic.

First, the size. The sandwich is huge. A clerk of mine was unable to eat more than half of her sandwich. I ate my entire sandwich but only because I had no way to store the second half of my sandwich and I refused to let it go to waste. (The things I do for justice, o reader!)

ALC’s ingredients were top notch. (All except for the yellow mustard, that is, but who wants top-of-the-line yellow mustard?) The ham and cheese were perfect and, while I have made known for my general uncertainty with regard to pulled pork, ALC’s pulled pork was moist and flavorful, at least close to El Floridano quality which generally serves as my bar. The bread was memorable: crispy on the outside, buttery on the inside. Most significantly, ALC doesn’t try to reinvent a classic sandwich or dress it up unnecessarily. It takes a simple combination and executes it well–generally a good sign when it comes to street food.

For these reasons, the case is

AFFIRMED. It is so ordered.

We recently held that “this Supreme Cart has jurisdiction to review a brick-and-mortar restaurant that concurrently operates a food cart or truck when that brick-and-mortar offers the same menu items as the food cart or truck.” SUNdeVICH v. SUNdeVICH, 22 Catt. 1 (2013). In that case, in which a single enterprise’s, SUNdeVICH’s, mobile and immobile forms were pitted one against the other like gladiators, we found it within our power to rule on a particular food item (a) that was also available in mobile form, and (b) where the mobile version presented itself in the same case. In this case, however, we are presented with one sandwich (Kingston) solely in its immobile iteration (though it is served mobile) and two others (Athens, Buenos Aires) which, as far as I know, are not served on the truck at all. As discussed below, I find that our jurisdiction extends to all three sandwiches.

KINGSTON

In In re Curbside Cupcakes Kiosk, 20 Catt. 4 (2013), we held that we had jurisdiction over a kiosk in a food court “by virtue of its relationship with a mobile gastronomic enterprise that is within our jurisdiction.” In that case, we addressed only the kiosk’s fare, not the truck’s. The same logic extends to a true brick and mortar, such as SUNdeVICH. Accordingly, we have jurisdiction over SUNdeVICH’s Kingston sandwich.

Kingston sandwich

It is SUNdeVICH’s custom to name their sandwiches after world cities. Kingston is the capital of Jamaica. It is also a ficelle filled with jerk chicken, pineapple salsa, greens, spicy slaw, and garlic mayo. (Needless to say, it is most certainly not a beef patty on coco bread.) The careful reader might recall this Cart’s general aversion to fruit-, and in particular mango- and pineapple-, based condiments. See In re OoH DaT ChickeN, 16 Catt. 3 (2013); In re Pedro and Vinny’s, 9 Catt. 2 (2012); In re Doug the Food Dude, 5 Catt. 3 (2012); In re El Floridano, 2 Catt. 2 (2011). However, in this case, the pineapple imparted a beautiful, charred, floral acidity that paired nicely with the heavily seasoned chicken and unctuous garlic mayo. As in El Floridano, I am happy to rule in the party’s favor with regard to their fruit-based accoutrement. The chicken was a well prepared interpretation of a traditional jerk seasoning (allspice, Scotch bonnet). All in all, the sandwich’s flavors melded harmoniously. This was, in fact, the favored sandwich of one of the two clerks present with us at our proceedings. While I tended to favor the Buenos Aires (see below), the Kingston is really a very good sandwich.

ATHENS

As noted above, we found jurisdiction over the kiosk in Curbside Cupcakes Kiosk “by virtue of its relationship with a mobile gastronomic enterprise that is within our jurisdiction.” 20 Catt. 4 (2013) (emphasis added). While that decision addressed a particular cupcake also sold by the mobile gastronomic enterprise, it in no way foreclosed our consideration of food items not purveyed by the mobile gastronomic enterprise itself. Instead, as the cited language indicates, we stressed the importance of the relationship that exists between the mobile and immobile gastronomic enterprises rather than the particular food served. We hold here that, because SUNdeVICH the brick and mortar operates a mobile gastronomic enterprise under the same branding, our jurisdiction extends to all items purveyed by the brick and mortar.

Athens is the capital of Greece. It is also a ficelle filled with chunks of succulent lamb, tomato, sumac onions, tztaziki, and greens. Like many other sandwiches purveyed by SUNdeVICH, the particular combination of flavors is no way revolutionary. The beauty of SUNdeVICH lies more in its execution than the ingenuity lent each individual sandwich (though the concept of the restaurant as a whole is, I should say, quite creative and successful). The lamb in particular was an exquisite medium rare–pink on the inside but not so blue as to emit baas. It was, in other words, perfectly toothsome. The flavors, like that of the Kingston, were well balanced. They were crisp and fresh. Of the three sandwiches, the Athens was probably my least favorite, but that is a matter of taste alone. Its preparation was immaculate.

BUENOS AIRES

For the reasons given above with regard to the Athens, our jurisdiction extends also to the Buenos Aires. No principled distinction can be drawn between the capitals of Greece and Argentina, respectively, other than the fact that one is in South America while the other is not. This has no bearing on the question before us.

Buenos Aires sandwich

As noted, Buenos Aires is the capital of Argentina. It is the birthplace of tango and the stomping grounds of Borges. It is also a ficelle filled with (flank?) steak, chimichurri, and sautéed onions. Though the meat itself was perhaps a tad more cooked than I might have liked, the Buenos Aires was my favorite of the three sandwiches. (I’ll leave it to my sister to reveal her and her clerk’s preferred bocadillos.) The chimichurri lent an incredible pungent freshness to the dish–a fragrant bouquet of garlic and parsley and olive oil. While not a revolutionary or innovative chimichurri by any means–such does not appear to be SUNdeVICH’s modus operandi–it was made from good ingredients, well executed, and served in proper proportion to the sandwich itself. There was also the matter of the sautéed onions. I am a sautéed onion fiend and would think nothing of eating a bowl of them. (Fortunately for you, our decisions are delivered electronically rather than aloud in open court.) For these reasons, I find the Buenos Aires to approach the perfect sandwich, which is quite a feat given the competition from the Kingston, the Athens, and the Milan (which may still be my favorite of the four).

For these reasons, the case is heartily

AFFIRMED.

CATTLEYA, J., concurring.

SUNdeVICH’s Kingston, Athens, and Buenos Aires sandwiches are rightly affirmed for the reasons stated in the Court’s opinion. I write separately to clarify why the Cart has jurisdiction to review the Athens and Buenos Aires sandwiches even though they are available only at the brick-and-mortar location. It is true, as the Chief Justice says, that the Cart’s jurisdiction over a brick-and-mortar establishment stems from its “relationship with a mobile gastronomic enterprise that is within our jurisdiction.” (quoting In re Curbside Cupcakes Kiosk, 20 Catt. 4 (2013)). However, it is not true that any relationship is sufficient to extend our jurisdiction to those food items that are purveyed by the brick-and-mortar alone. For example, sibling enterprises under different names and with different menus would not bring a brick-and-mortar under our power of review on the basis of their relationship. The relationship must be, as it is here, one “under the same branding”, supra, so that the new food items are a natural extension of the mobile gastronomic enterprise’s menu. Clearly, SUNdeVICH’s sandwiches–on the same baguettes, following the same theme of globally inspired fillings–are natural extensions of the food truck’s offerings. And so, for that reason, we properly exercise jurisdiction in this case.

SUNdeVICH is a sandwich shop that runs out of a converted garage in Naylor Court. It started out as a brick-and-mortar operation in 2011, and last year it launched a food truck.  This Court undoubtedly has jurisdiction to review sandwiches from SUNdeVICH’s food truck, but do we have jurisdiction to review sandwiches from the original brick-and-mortar shop?

SUNdeVICH (food truck)

JURISDICTION

Our case law tells us that the answer must be yes. In In re Pupatella, 8 Catt. 4 (2012),  we declined to extend jurisdiction to a brick-and-mortar restaurant that previously, but no longer, operated as a food cart. In that case, we “[left] open the question of whether this court’s jurisdiction extends to a brick-and-mortar restaurant that concurrently operates a food cart” or food truck. We revisited a variation of that question in In re Curbside Cupcakes Kiosk, 20 Catt. 4 (2013). There, we were confronted not with a traditional brick-and-mortar establishment, but with an indoor kiosk at a food court. We granted jurisdiction to the kiosk because Curbside Cupcakes “simultaneously operates food trucks within our jurisdiction and the kiosk vends the same cupcakes as the food trucks.”

SUNdeVICH (brick-and-mortar)

Today, we finally hold that this Supreme Cart has jurisdiction to review a brick-and-mortar restaurant that concurrently operates a food cart or truck when  that brick-and-mortar offers the same menu items as the food cart or truck. Here, the SUNdeVICH brick-and-mortar and food truck both offer gourmet sandwiches inspired by flavors found in cities across the globe. Although the food truck only offers about half of the brick-and-mortar’s twenty sandwiches, a visit to the food truck is representative of the brick-and-mortar and vice versa.

BRICK-AND-MORTAR v. FOOD TRUCK: MILAN SANDWICH

Having determined that we may properly review the sandwich offerings of SUNdeVICH’s brick-and-mortar, naturally we must ask whether the brick-and-mortar or the food truck is better. We address this question in the context of the Milan sandwich, which we ordered from both the permanent and mobile locations. SUNdeVICH classifies the Milan sandwich as a breakfast sandwich because it includes eggs, but it is appropriate at any time of the day. We had it for lunch twice. In addition to eggs, the Milan sandwich is comprised of pancetta, gorgonzola, arugula, and garlic mayo. It is served on a French style demi-baguette.

Milan sandwich (food truck)

Wow. The combination of flavors was perfect, and the sandwich was downright phenomenal. The bread was wonderfully crusty, the pancetta was salty, the arugula added pepperiness, and the gorgonzola was strong and creamy. And the egg! My brother and I are big fans of eggs. See In re Seoul Food, 3 Catt. 2 (2011) (affirming bibimbap with a perfectly-executed sunny side up egg). SUNdeVICH — both the brick-and-mortar and the food truck — met our high expectations for eggs. It made every bite a joy to eat.

So who made the better Milan sandwich? I am pleased to say that the brick-and-mortar and food truck executed the sandwich equally well. Consistency is highly valued in the food industry, and SUNdeVICH gets high marks. That being said, the Milan sandwich from the food truck wins out as a better deal. While the sandwich from the food truck was a little smaller in size, it was still a good-sized lunch portion. It was also cheaper, priced at $7 instead of the brick-and-mortar’s $10. Until Congress approves appropriations to pay for the business-related meals of the members of this Court, $10 will forever seem to me like a high price for a sandwich.

CONCLUSION

SUNdeVICH’s Milan sandwich is a masterpiece of delicious, fresh flavors. Get it for a reasonable $7 from the food truck if you can. If you can’t, the higher-priced (and larger) version from the brick-and-mortar is still worth it. You must try this at least once.

No. 88. SUNdeVICH. Cartiorari granted on the questions of Athens, Buenos Aires, and Kingston sandwiches.

No. 89. A’ Lo Cubano. Cartiorari granted on the question of the traditional Cuban sandwich.

No. 90. The Salsa Room Quesadillas and Empanadas. Cartiorari granted on the question of the chorizo empanada.

We granted cartiorari on the question of the “Guac Pop” by Pleasant Pops. (N.B.: Generally we abbreviate the mobile gastronomic enterprise’s name. For obvious reasons, and out of respect for the cart at issue, I will not do so here.)

Pleasant Pops began a few years ago when its co-founders sought to “combine the Mexican tradition of fresh fruit ice pops [‘paletas’] with local and sustainable agriculture from the greater D.C. area.” Their ensemble has since grown to 100 flavors, which appear to be trotted out on a seasonal basis.

The enterprise has since expanded to a brick-and-mortar (“B&M”) on Florida Avenue just off in a U Street, to a somewhat out-of-the-way stretch of shops which includes a gallery, a “streetwear boutique,” and Locolat—a Belgian restaurant outside of our jurisdiction otherwise notable for its snail-topped herb waffles (a favorite of a clerk of mine) and a waiter who may or may not be my doppelgänger (dobbeltgænger?). The creation story of the B&M is a testament to the popularity of Pleasant Pops: the co-founders had reached their fundraising goal eight days into a 30-day Kickstarter campaign to raise $20,000 to open a B&M.

Pleasant Pops

We encountered Pleasant Pops at a farmer’s market off McPherson Square on a stuffy day in late Spring. Looking for a frozen treat, we spied a diminutive cart purveying a variety of dairy and non-dairy iced confections (see above). Scanning its menu, we settled for the “Guac Pop.” But first we must answer two preliminary questions:

1. Is a cart at a farmer’s market within our jurisdiction?
2. Is a “paleta” street food, as defined under our Eat Wonky test?

Both questions prove easy to answer.

Jurisdiction. First, while we have never considered whether a cart at a farmer’s market is within the jurisdiction of this Supreme Cart, we have gone so far as to find a Dippin’ Dots cart at a private event to lie within our jurisdiction. See In re Dippin’ Dots, 10 Catt. 5 (2012). If anything, its location at a farmer’s market, in the middle of Vermont Avenue, only places the Pleasant Pops cart more firmly within our jurisdiction.

Street Food. Second, while we have never addressed the precise question of whether a paleta, or even a popsicle more broadly, is “street food,” we have held that ice creams and sorbets do constitute “street food.” See In re Sinplicity, 9 Catt. 3 (2012). If anything, the nature of the popsicle—requiring no utensil, as compared with the spoon accompanying a cup of ice cream—only serves to strengthen the argument that the paleta and the popsicle are properly “street food.” Further, given our emphasis at times on historicity, the fact that the paleta is a Latin American street food tradition concludes the matter. Because the “Guac Pop” is “street food,” we must affirm it unless it bears some fatal flaw. See In re Big Cheese, 6 Catt. 2 (2012).

Guac Pop (Avocado & Lime)

Having answered these questions, we may safely move to the question of the “Guac Pop” itself. We were confronted with a menu filled with other intriguing options, among them Chongos and Hibiscus. Why, then, did we opt for the Guac? While my sister and I agree on few things, we do agree that, when at the Eden Center, the best bubble concoction to order is the sweetened guacamole smoothie. It’s delicious. I am also particularly fond of the traditional Indonesian chocolate and guacamole smoothie at Satay Sarinah in Alexandria. (N.B.: Satay Sarinah’s new truck Satè is on our radar.) There is a wide and delectable world of avocado-based desserts out there (see here and here, for examples). Even purveyor of fine living Martha Stewart agrees. And so, we opted for the avocado and lime paleta above all others.

We affirm.

The Guac Pop’s flavor is relatively subtle, with the taste of its key components never overpowered by sugar. It is a fresh, refreshing, and inexpensive treat on a hot day (or, I imagine, on any other day). We were particularly fond of the lime flavor, which actually tasted like lime rather than artificial lime or Rose’s lime cordial which, while delicious in a gimlet, would not have complemented the avocado as well as more or less unadulterated lime. (But a gimlet paleta? Hm.) This is a non-dairy pop, but the creaminess of the avocado mimics the unctuousness of a milk-based product without its heaviness.  We’ll be back for more and look forward to trying more of Pleasant Pop’s 100-strong repertoire.

AFFIRMED.

CATTLEYA, J., concurring.

I share my brother’s enthusiasm for the Guac Pop and wholeheartedly agree with the opinion he has authored, except for the unfortunate construction of the first sentence of the third paragraph. (Or is it the Chief Justice’s law clerk who deserves blame for faulty writing and proof-reading?)

Because I could not stop myself any longer, I granted cartiorari to the red velvet donut bites from Mama’s Donut Bites (“MDB”).  I first discovered MDB a couple of months ago when the pink-colored truck lured me in to try the signature apple cider donut bites. See In re Mama’s Donut Bites, 18 Catt. 1 (2013). I was very pleased with the hot, fresh, worth-every-calorie donuts and since then have been looking forward to the chance to try another flavor. That chance finally came.

Mama’s Donut Bites

 STREET FOOD

Before I can review the red velvet donut bites, I must pause to say that donuts are true street food. Mama’s Donut Bites, 18 Catt. 1; see also In re Eat Wonky, 2 Catt. 5 (2011) (defining street food as “the kind[] . . . that can be cooked in front of you and [is] meant to be eaten with your hands, without forks, while standing up”). In accordance with donuts’ status as street food, MDB’s donut bites are entitled to the presumption that they are suitable for curbside service and I must affirm absent a significant flaw. See In re Big Cheese, 6 Catt. 2 (2012).

Red Velvet Donut Bites with Cream Cheese Frosting

RED VELVET DONUT BITES

Shortly after my first visit to MDB, MDB began to hit the road in the mornings to serve during breakfast hours. On a recent morning, as soon as I walked into my chambers, my law clerk informed me that MDB was serving red velvet donut bites and I was quickly out the door.

Not long after, I held in my hands a bag of six red velvet donut bites for $3. (Had I remembered to invite my law clerk, I would have opted for a dozen donuts for $5.) MDB’s red velvet donut bites come in two ways: tossed in powdered sugar or served with a small plastic container of cream cheese frosting. I chose the cream cheese frosting.

The made-to-order donuts were hot when I received them. The freshly fried donuts had a thin, crisp outer layer, while the inside was airy and moist. It was a textural symphony. Although the red velvet donut did not have a strong enough kick of rich-tasting cocoa powder for my liking, the donut nevertheless was enjoyable, especially when dipped into the cream cheese frosting. The frosting achieved a delightful balance of tangy and sweet. When the donuts ran out, I unabashedly stuck my finger into the container to savor the remaining frosting. Not even five minutes after getting the donut bites, they were gone.

A note about the price: $3 for six donut bites may seem steep, especially if you consider that you can get a donut from Dunkin’ Donuts for around $1. But it seems more appropriate to compare MDB’s donuts to other freshly made mobile treats, like cupcakes. In that light, MDB’s donuts are comparably priced. For example, Sweetbites and Curbside Cupcakes charge the same amount ($3) for one cupcake. What’s more, MDB’s six donut bites probably beat most single cupcakes in terms of total size, so perhaps MDB is even a better deal.

CONCLUSION

MDB’s red velvet donuts bites were not the best rendition of a red velvet recipe (they could have used more cocoa powder to add richness), but they were good enough and their accompanying cream cheese frosting was excellent. The experience was satisfying enough to guarantee a future return to try another flavor, like the blueberry donut bites. My biggest gripe (though it’s probably best for my ever-growing waistline) is that MDB focuses on one flavor each day, preventing me from gluttonously trying every flavor at once.

AFFIRMED. It is so ordered.

District Taco (“DT”) is a longtime member of the mobile food scene. Today, it operates several food carts in Northern Virginia and DC and has even expanded to include three brick-and-mortar restaurants. Long I have heard from my law clerk that DT, the maker of fresh Mexican food, puts the Chipotle Mexican Grill franchise to shame. To settle the matter and give my ears a rest, I granted cartiorari to DT’s chicken tacos from its food cart stationed near the Clarendon metro stop in Virginia.

District Taco

 STREET FOOD

Before I may review DT’s tacos, I must determine whether tacos are “street food,” or “the kind[] . . . that can be cooked in front of you and [is] meant to be eaten with your hands, without forks, while standing up.” In re Eat Wonky, 2 Catt. 5 (2011). It is well settled by this court that tacos are true street food. See, e.g., In re El Chilango, 12 Catt. 2 (2012); In re La Tingeria, 18 Catt. 3 (2013); In re Kimchi BBQ Taco, 13 Catt. 2 (2012); In re Sol Mexican Grill, 9 Catt. 4 (2012). Because tacos are street food, this court must affirm DT’s chicken tacos unless the Cart meets the high burden to prove a significant flaw with the tacos. See In re Big Cheese, 6 Catt. 2 (2012). Although DT’s chicken tacos were not perfect, I cannot meet the high burden and so affirm.

Chicken Tacos

 CHICKEN TACOS

When I walked up to DT, there was a crowd around the cart. This pleased me because it was a very promising sign for the food, but it also confused me. I imagine that a regular would have known how to navigate the crowd, but I could not tell who was in line waiting to order and who had already ordered but had not yet received their food. After standing in a line that turned out not to be a line, I corrected my mistake and soon enough found myself at the front of the cart to place my order.

I opted for the 2-tacos-for-$5 deal:

• The first step in the ordering process was to pick a protein. DT’s menu includes carnitas, carne asada, pollo asado, barbacoa, and al pastor. Normally I would never pick chicken over beef or pork, see In re Red Hook Lobster Pound, 2 Catt. 1 (2011) (“[N]o one in their right mind orders shrimp over lobster.”); In re El Floridano, 2 Catt. 2 (2011) (“[N]o one in their right mind orders [tempeh] over [pork].”), and my fellow eaters apparently felt the same way. By the time I arrived to the cart at 1pm, the chicken was all that was left. So I ordered the pollo asado.
• The second step was to choose between flour and corn tortillas. The default at DT is flour, so the customer must speak up if he or she prefers corn.
• The third step was to select toppings. For an “American” taco, DT recommends lettuce, cheese, and pico de gallo. For a “Mexican” taco, DT recommends onion and cilantro. If the customer wants a customized taco, DT recommends a maximum of three toppings, but the customer is free to add as many toppings as are desired. Among the toppings are standards like lettuce, onion, jalapenos, cilantro, cheese, pico de gallo, and sour cream, as well as “premium” choices like guacamole, chorizo, and bacon. All toppings are available at no additional cost. I repeat, all toppings are included. (Interestingly, this is not true of the brick-and-mortar locations. Premium toppings on tacos are an extra 50 cents.) I ordered onion, jalapenos, and cheese on my first taco, and then onion, jalapenos, and guacamole on my second.
• The last step was to visit the salsa station, where DT puts out salsas in condiment containers. I picked up a mild green salsa and a spicier red salsa.

Now for the verdict: DT’s chicken tacos were good, although not extraordinary. The chicken was well seasoned, but it leaned more on the dry/tough side than on the moist/tender side. Fortunately, the toppings hid the less-than-perfect execution. Of the toppings I selected, the fresh guacamole and spicy jalapenos came through the most. That being said, toppings should not be relied on to mask dry chicken, and it would have been better if the chicken had held up on its own. Cf. In re Bada Bing, 5 Catt. 2 (2012).

What surprised me the most was how filling DT’s tacos were. The tacos looked small and upon first seeing them, I wished that I had ordered a third taco. But by the time I finished my two tacos, I was satisfied. And while I usually start to feel hunger pangs every two hours or so, I remained satisfied long past my usual dinner hour.

CONCLUSION

Although DT’s tacos were not the best I’ve ever had, they were fresh, filling, and cheap and, with unlimited free toppings, they made me feel like I had gotten a great deal. On my way home from the court that evening, I passed my local Chipotle chain and chuckled because at DT I had been able to get guacamole and keep the couple of dollars that I would have spent for the premium topping.

AFFIRMED. It is so ordered.

We granted cartiorari to Caribbean Cafe Truck (CCT), a downtown mobile gastronomic enterprise, on the question(s) of its beef patty and coco bread.

As a point of introduction, we had initially decided to grant cartiorari only to CCT’s beef patty. The beef patty–a bright golden affair filled with seasoned ground beef–is a staple of Jamaican street food. (No further explanation is needed to determine that a Jamaican patty, like an empanada, pasty, and other stuffed pastries, meets our test for “street food” and is therefore entitled to the presumption of affirmance. See, e.g., In re Rolls on Rolls, 13 Catt. 3 (2012) (a samosa is “street food”). We were eager to sample CCT’s take on this classic street food.

Caribbean Cafe Truck

In preliminary research, my clerk happened upon a fascinating image: a beef patty ensconced in coco bread. Coco bread is a fairly heavy, fairly starchy bread made with a bit of coconut milk (or maybe it’s just split open like a coconut) and imparting a subtle touch of sweetness, cut in half and, apparently, often stuffed with a Jamaican beef patty. That’s right: a pastry-filled sandwich. Articles on both the Jamaican patty and coco bread corroborated this image. There were many more images. The Grey Lady reported on it back in 2005. An online Jamaican grocery verified it. So there you have it: a carb sandwich.

And why not? It makes some intuitive sense as street food. Bread, like my sister’s talk, is relatively cheap and, though generally lacking in substance, fills you up quickly wanting no more, as we found out. So why not wrap a pastry in more bread? And so we ordered a beef patty and a coco bread from CCT and assembled for ourselves a park-bench meal.

Coco Bread & Beef Patty

The predominant flavor of the beef patty sandwich is heavy–given the nature of our work, the Justices of this truck are no strangers to heaviness–but the sandwich was, I daresay, gastronomically harmonious: the cakiness of the coco bread, the turmeric-tinted flakiness of the patty crust, and the stewed beef core. A Red Stripe probably would have helped wash it down. (On second thought, I should have ordered a ginger beer.) Overall, the patty sandwich satisfied more traditional goals of street food: quick, simple, moderately satisfying food that is sold cheaply ($5) and fills you up fast. See, e.g., In re Street Vendor Near National Mall, 9 Catt. 5 (2012).

Coco Bread Stuffed with Beef Patty

As for the patty itself, the crust was very good–just flaky enough and a beautiful color. It held up without giving way to the filling. The filling–the spiced ground beef–was good. It was perhaps not as hot as I might have expected of a cuisine I associate with the Scotch bonnet pepper–having lived my entire childhood with an ancient bottle of Bajan pepper sauce in my refrigerator, I might have unreasonable expectations of West Indian heat–but it was nicely flavored. Not a complex profile, but certainly a satisfying one.

Coco Bread & Beef Patty Sandwich

Given the presumption of affirmance for true street food, I would certainly affirm both the patty sandwich and the beef patty by itself. Even without the presumption, however, I would affirm. Beside the relative novelty of a carb sandwich, this is a decent presentation of world street food at its most prototypical. It’s nice to see that nod to tradition in a scene that seems increasingly taken with what is essentially streetside take-out.

AFFIRMED.

CATTLEYA, J., concurring.

Despite the unprovoked attack in my brother’s words, he reaches the same conclusion that my “cheap talk” would, except he talked in circles before finally arriving to the point: “the patty sandwich satisfied more traditional goals of street food: quick, simple, moderately satisfying food that is sold cheaply . . . and fills you up fast.”

No. 84. District Taco. Cartiorari granted on the question of chicken tacos.

No. 85. Mama’s Donut Bites. Cartiorari granted on the question of red velvet donut bites.

No. 86. Pleasant Pops. Cartiorari granted on the question of whether avocado and lime pop is within the jurisdiction of the Cart.

Curbside Cupcakes (“CC”) bills itself as DC’s “first mobile cupcake truck.” Since it joined the mobile food scene in 2009, it has grown to three trucks and two indoor kiosks. While there is no question that CC’s trucks are in the Cart’s jurisdiction, it is less clear whether its kiosks are. The question before us today is whether the Cart may properly exercise jurisdiction and review the red velvet and carrot cake cupcakes from CC’s kiosk located in the food court at the Pentagon City Mall.

Curbside Cupcakes Kiosk at Pentagon City Mall

 JURISDICTIONAL TEST

We first turn to our guiding legislation and rules. The Judiciary Act of 2011 (Cartiorari Act) grants the Supreme Cart “exclusive jurisdiction of all food carts, trucks, and other transitory alimentary establishments within those portions of the District of Columbia or the part thereof retroceded to the Commonwealth of Virginia.” Rule of Procedure 1-2 expands this to explain that the Cart’s jurisdiction “extends to all mobile gastronomic enterprises situated throughout those parts of (a) the County of Arlington, Virginia, (b) the District of Columbia, and (c) the City of Alexandria, Virginia, which are reasonably proximate to public transportation of a reasonably rapid and efficient character.”

From the Cartiorari Act and our own Rules of Procedures, we learn that the Cart’s jurisdictional test contains three elements. First, the establishment under consideration must be located in DC, Arlington, or Alexandria. Second, it must be a mobile gastronomic enterprise. Third, it must be reasonably proximate to public transportation of a reasonably rapid and efficient character.

ELEMENTS ONE & THREE OF JURISDICTIONAL TEST

We easily see that the first and third elements are satisfied in this case. CC’s kiosk is within the geographic jurisdiction of the Cart. The kiosk is located in the Pentagon City Mall, which is in Arlington. Thus, CC’s kiosk is “located in DC, Arlington, or Alexandria.” Moreover, CC’s kiosk is reasonably proximate to public transportation. The Pentagon City Mall is near the Pentagon City metro stop and is accessible by either the Blue or Yellow Lines.

ELEMENT TWO OF JURISDICTIONAL TEST

The reviewability of the cupcakes from CC’s kiosk depends on whether the kiosk is a “mobile gastronomic enterprise.” By no stretch of the imagination or misinterpretation of our case law may CC’s kiosk qualify as a mobile gastronomic enterprise. In In re China Garden, 5 Catt. 1 (2012), we held that to be a mobile gastronomic enterprise, the enterprise selling the gastronomy had to be mobile. Here, it is clear that a stationary kiosk inside a shopping mall’s food cart is not mobile.

However, this finding does not end our analysis. Even if a gastronomic enterprise is not mobile, the Cart may exercise jurisdiction over it by virtue of its relationship with a mobile gastronomic enterprise that is within our jurisdiction. In In re Dippin’ Dots, 10 Catt. 5 (2012), we had jurisdiction over a pushcart that operated inside a building because it was affiliated with a food truck that was within our jurisdiction and vended the same ice cream product. In other words, the Cart’s jurisdiction extends to a gastronomic enterprise if (1) it is affiliated with a concurrently operating mobile gastronomic enterprise that is within our jurisdiction; and (2) it vends the same gastronomy as that mobile gastronomic enterprise.

CC’s kiosk meets both prongs. First, the kiosk is part of CC’s enterprise and is related to CC’s trucks, and, as stated before, CC’s trucks are mobile gastronomic enterprises within the Cart’s jurisdiction. This is because the trucks operate in DC and Arlington; are mobile and sell foodstuff in the form of cupcakes; and may be found near many metro stops in the area. Second, CC’s kiosk at Pentagon City Mall sells the same cupcakes as the food trucks. Indeed, they sell the same flavors on the same days. For example, on May 3, CC’s trucks and the kiosk offered the following flavors: red velvet, vanilla bean, black cupcake, carrot cake, vanilla mocha, peanut butter cup, tequila sunrise, and strawberry delight.

Today we hold that the Cart has jurisdiction over the red velvet and carrot cake cupcakes from CC’s stationary kiosk at the Pentagon City Mall because CC simultaneously operates food trucks within our jurisdiction and the kiosk vends the same cupcakes as the food trucks. To be clear, we hold only that our jurisdiction extends to the cupcakes under our consideration in this case. Our jurisdiction should not be interpreted to extend to CC’s cake truffles, which may be purchased from the kiosk but not the trucks. As the question of CC’s cake truffles are not before us today, we decline to decide that question and leave open the possibility that different menu items may be reviewed by this court.

Curbside Cupcakes Kiosk

CUPCAKES: RED VELVET AND CARROT CAKE

Because we have jurisdiction over the red velvet and carrot cake cupcakes from CC’s kiosk at the Pentagon City Mall, we may properly review the cupcakes. Our regular reader knows that before we can address the merits of the cupcakes, we must first determine whether CC’s cupcakes are “street food.” Street food is the kind that “can be cooked in front of you and [is] meant to be eaten with your hands, without forks, while standing up.” In re Eat Wonky, 2 Catt. 5 (2011). If a dish qualifies as street food, we presume that it should be affirmed. If not, then the burden lies with the mobile gastronomic enterprise to prove the worth of the dish. See In re Big Cheese, 6 Catt. 2 (2012). Our case law makes clear that cupcakes are not street food, see, e.g., In re Sweetbites, 10 Catt. 1 (2012), so CC’s cupcakes are not entitled to the presumption of affirmance.

Carrot Cake and Red Velvet

Even so, CC’s red velvet and carrot cake flavors were good. The red velvet cake was sufficiently rich with the right hint of cocoa powder. The carrot cake was pleasing texture-wise, as shredded carrots, chopped walnuts, and raisins were mixed into the soft cake. Each cupcake was topped with a generous amount of thick cream cheese frosting. The frosting was perfectly tangy instead of sweet. Now, my only complaint: while the cupcakes were moist, the exteriors were much too sticky. Perhaps the result of air-tight storage which trapped in moisture? I would have preferred a less sticky cupcake, but overall I enjoyed both cupcakes and, even at $3 per cupcake, would not object to having one of each again on a “I need a cupcake” kind of day.

CONCLUSION

The Cart’s jurisdiction extends to the red velvet and carrot cake cupcakes from CC’s kiosk at Pentagon City Mall because CC’s concurrently operating food trucks offer the same cupcakes. Thus, a review of the kiosk’s cupcakes is essentially a review of the food trucks’ cupcakes, and such a review serves the needs of our readers. CC’s red velvet and carrot cake cupcakes were tasty, moist, and topped off with a wonderfully tangy frosting. Unfortunately, they were too sticky, and for that reason the case is

AFFIRMED in part and REMANDED in part to Curbside Cupcakes for revision.

JEREMY, C.J., concurring in the jurisdictional question.

I concur in my sister’s application of this Cart’s jurisdictional test. I have long been of the opinion that this Cart’s jurisdiction extends to non-mobile gastronomic enterprises associated with mobile gastronomic enterprises. See, e.g., In re Pupatella, 8 Catt. 4 (2012).

I must recuse myself, however, from the question of the quality of CC’s wares. In In re Dangerously Delicious Pies, 4 Catt. 4 (2011), I wrote that, “given my severe aversion to cupcakeries,” I would recuse myself from the case of any “cupcake truck.” See also In re Sweetbites, 10 Catt. 1 (2012); In re Sinplicity, 9 Catt. 3 (2012). While the case before us is not one involving a cupcake truck, there is no principled distinction to be made between enterprises purveying primarily cupcakes–whether truck, cart, or brick-and-mortar.

The only possibility of not recusing myself would arise from adopting a more neutral opinion of cupcakeries, such that I may assess individual cupcakeries on their merits. However, on a lazy Sunday afternoon not so very long ago, a clerk and I decided to finally wait in the unnecessarily long line at Georgetown Cupcake. I left unimpressed, blinded by pink, and, frankly, vengeful. Clearly my “severe aversion” has not abated. Far from it. (For encouraging news, though, see here!) And so I do the only ethical thing and recuse myself from the substance of this case.

(N.B. I also hate shopping malls. Clearly I was not meant to adjudicate this case. Lest you think me a complete curmudgeon, I will remind you of my love of duck and poutine and pie.)

I granted cartiorari on the question of the pulled pork barbecue sandwich and fries at Food for the Soul (“FFTS”).

I. JURISDICTION

As an initial matter, I must decide whether this Cart has jurisdiction to hear a case involving FFTS. Under our Rules of Procedure, the jurisdiction of the Cart extends to mobile gastronomic enterprises (“MGE”) in Arlington, Alexandria, and the District reasonably proximate to public transportation of a reasonably rapid and efficient character. However, FFTS is a primarily Fairfax-based MGE which happened to visit Arlington one blustery day. The question then is whether a Fairfax-based MGE which serves its cuisine at times within the combined area of Arlington, Alexandria, and the District may fall within the jurisdiction of this Cart.

Our decision in In re Make My Cake, 16 Catt. 4 (2013) answers this question. Though that case was dismissed on other grounds, we held that a New York-based MGE which served cupcakes at the second inauguration of Barack Obama was properly within the jurisdiction of this Cart. There is no principled distinction between a New York-based MGE and a Fairfax-based MGE. Accordingly, FFTS must be found to fall within this Cart’s jurisdiction.

Food for the Soul

II. STREET FOOD

I next must inquire whether FFTS’s pulled pork sandwich and fries constitute “street food.” If so, the dish must be affirmed absent grievous error. See In re Big Cheese, 6 Catt. 2 (2012). If it is not, the food truck must prove the worth of its creations. See id. “Street food” is food which “can be cooked in front of you and [is] meant to be eaten with your hands, without forks, while standing up.” In re Eat Wonky, 2 Catt. 5 (2011).

We have consistently held that a sandwich is “street food.” See Big Cheese, 6 Catt. 2. And though the decision predates our explicit street food jurisprudence, we have affirmed a pulled pork sandwich. See In re El Floridano, 2 Catt. 2 (2011). FFTS’s pulled pork sandwich, too, is clearly “street food.” And though a side dish alone cannot defeat application of the presumption, see In re OoH DaT ChickeN, 16 Catt. 3 (2013), fries, too, meet our “street food” test. Accordingly, the presumption of affirmance holds, and I proceed to adjudication of the MGE’s cuisine.

Pulled Pork Sandwich and Fries

III. CUISINE

A. Sandwich

I have registered my general dislike of the pulled pork sandwich. El Floridano, 2 Catt. 2 (2011). I have also, however, affirmed a pulled pork sandwich, finding it to be quite delicious and quite well executed. See id. But, in my experience, a pulled pork sandwich is more generally dry and somewhat bland. Unfortunately, FFTS’s pulled pork sandwich falls into the latter class. It was both dry and bland; it was underwhelming. Therefore, I find the presumption of affirmance to be rebutted.

B. Fries

FFTS’s fries were crinkle-cut. They were palatable, yes, and not altogether terrible, but they tasted suspiciously like Ore-Ida. I have a sneaky suspicion they were Ore-Ida. You can read reviews here.

IV. CONCLUSION

For the reasons given in this opinion, this case is

REMANDED to Food for the Soul for revision. It is so ordered.

I granted cartiorari to Mediterranean Delights (“MD”), a food cart in the Ballston neighborhood of Northern Virginia. MD promises “Homemade Mediterranean Delights right to your curb” and includes on its menu items like Mediterranean salad, gyros, hummus, and stuffed grape leaves. I opted for the lamb platter, served with rice, salad, and a side vegetable.

Mediterranean Delights

 STREET FOOD

As usual, our first order of business is to determine whether MD’s lamb platter qualifies as street food. This court presumes that street food should be affirmed, shifting the burden of proof to the Cart to show that the case should be remanded to the mobile gastronomic enterprise for revision. If a dish is not sufficiently street in nature, then the mobile gastronomic enterprise bears the burden to prove that the dish is fit for curbside service. In re Big Cheese, 6 Catt. 2 (2012).

What then is street food? This court has defined street food as “the kind[] of food[] that can be cooked in front of you and [is] meant to be eaten with your hands, without forks, while standing up.” In re Eat Wonky, 2 Catt. 5 (2011). We have repeatedly held that meat-over-rice dishes like the one before the Cart today are not street food. See, e.g., In re NY Famous Kabob, 7 Catt. 3 (2012). Thus, no presumption arises in favor of MD’s lamb platter.

Lamb Platter with Chick Peas and Salad

LAMB PLATTER

Although MD’s platter was similar to other lamb-and-rice platters available on the street, see, e.g., NY Famous Kabob, 7 Catt. 3; In re Ali Khan Express, 3 Catt. 5 (2011); In re Tasty Kabob, 3 Catt. 4 (2011), the dish nevertheless was satisfying. For $7, the customer receives lamb over basmati rice, salad, and a side vegetable. I was given a choice between green beans and chick peas, and I chose the latter.

When MD gave me a Styrofoam container full of food and I handed over my payment, I immediately noticed two things. First, MD’s lamb platter was a little cheaper than some others. For example, Tasty Kabob and Zesty Kabob each charge $9 for their platters. However, MD’s most immediate competition has comparable, even cheaper, prices. Metro Halal Food Cart down the block in Ballston charges $6 and NY Famous Kabob in Virginia Square charges $6.99. Second, MD’s Styrofoam container seemed slightly smaller than that used by other mobile vendors. The serving size was actually better suited for lunch service, leaving me satisfied but not stuffed. The larger platters are generally too much for me, and since I never have the willpower to save half for dinner, I usually feel too full afterwards. Still, although I didn’t want more food, I couldn’t help but feel that I wasn’t getting the most bang for my buck.

What MD lacked in quantity, however, it made up with quality. The chunks of lamb were flavorful and moist and served over fluffy basmati rice. It was topped with three types of sauces: tzatziki, red, and mint. The cool tzatziki , hot red, and fresh mint sauces achieved a harmonious blend. My only complaint was that the lamb chunks were not bite-size and required cutting for easy eating, but MD provided only a fork and no knife. MD’s side salad was above average. In addition to the standard lettuce and tomatoes, the salad included onions and crumbled feta cheese and was finished off with a homemade Greek dressing. As a cheese lover, I must say that the inclusion of feta was a small but very nice touch. Finally, the chick peas were probably the tastiest I’ve had from a mobile gastronomic enterprise in the area. This side dish is often overlooked, resulting in something watery and tasteless, but not here. MD’s chick peas were well spiced with dark, earthy flavors like coriander and cumin. I usually treat this part of the platter as filler, but I savored it as much as everything else.

CONCLUSION

Compared with similar lamb platters from other mobile vendors, MD’s was not the largest or cheapest offering. However, the food was fresh and flavorful. Moreover, MD got the small details right, like topping off the side salad with a feta crumble and heavily spicing the often-overlooked chick peas.

AFFIRMED. It is so ordered.

I granted cartiorari to BBQ Bus (“BBQB”).

I. PETITION FOR CARTIORARI

A petition for cartiorari was submitted by Julia pursuant to Rule of Procedure 2-3(a). The petition asks whether “a food cart catering experience [can] be as amazing as a street-side food cart experience.” In support of the petition, Julia contends the following:

1. The question presented is of exceptional importance: the BBQ Bus catered our wedding and no one could shut up about how awesome the food was. Some were heard to express that the overall experience of having a food cart cater a bumpin’ party was even better than eating in the park at lunchtime on a sunny day. In the alternative, the experience was at least equal to eating in the park at lunchtime on a sunny day.

2. The BBQ Bus is clearly a superior vehicle [N.B. pun noted and appreciated] for addressing the question presented. It is, after all, bright yellow like a school bus, but with flames.

The petition presumes “the High Cart” should accept for review the BBQ Bus, particularly the pulled pork BBQ sandwich, the potato salad, and the corn salad, and, by relying on record evidence and testimony from the wedding of Brad & Julia, compare the overall experience to that of eating the same food in the park at lunchtime on a sunny day.

The petition, in essence, asks this Cart to determine (a) whether a wedding food cart experience is preferable  to—or, in the alternative, equal to—a lunchtime, park-based food cart experience; and (b) the merits of BBQ Bus in particular.

While we must deny the petition for cartiorari (Rule of Procedure 2-3(b)) for the reasons given below, we ultimately take this opportunity to grant cartiorari sua sponte pursuant to Rule of Procedure 2-2.

A. Question 1: Wedding Reception Food Truck v. Park at Lunchtime Food Truck

As a preliminary matter, the Cart must deny the petitioner’s first question as it is presented, that is, whether “the overall experience of having a food cart cater a bumpin’ party [is] even better than eating in the park at lunchtime on a sunny day,” or, in the alternative, whether it is an experience of equivalent worth.

A food truck wedding reception is a novel and intriguing idea. Apparently, it is also a growing trend. See, e.g., here and here and here. It seems to have been a hit at Brad and Julia’s wedding, and we applaud the success and foresight of their avant garde sensibilities. (We of the Supreme Cart of course also congratulate Brad and Julia on their wedding and wish them all the best in their life together!)

However this Cart, like other courts of federal jurisdiction, is limited by the first clause of section 2 of Article III of the United States Constitution, which restricts “the judicial Power” to “cases” and “controversies.” U.S CONST. art. III, § 2. In particular, a federal court is forbidden from issuing a mere advisory opinion in an instance in which there is no actual controversy. Muskrat v. United States, 219 U.S. 346 (1911). The first question asks only whether a non-lunchtime food truck experience is better than or equal to a lunchtime food truck experience. The breadth of this question exceeds the institutional capacity and democratic purpose of this Cart. Because it is not limited to a single food truck, or a controversy between multiple specific food trucks, it must be dismissed as a request for an advisory opinion.

B. Question 2: BBQ Bus in the Context of Question 1

The second question specifies that BBQB is a “superior vehicle” for addressing the first question. While this question is sufficiently specific, it, too, must be dismissed given an insufficient record.

The petitioner invites this Cart to “rely[] on record evidence and testimony from the wedding of Brad & Julia” to compare the wedding reception food truck experience to a more standard lunchtime food truck experience. This we cannot do.

As a federal court established by Congress, we are bound by the Federal Rules of Evidence. Under those rules, hearsay is not admissible unless otherwise provided by a federal statute, the rules of evidence themselves, or other rules prescribed by the Supreme Court. FED. R. EVID. 802. “Hearsay” is defined to mean “a statement that (1) the declarant does not make while testifying at the current trial or hearing; and (2) a party offers in evidence to prove the truth of the matter asserted in the statement.” FED. R. EVID. 801.

The statements at issue here—that “no one could shut up about how awesome the food was” and that “[s]ome were heard to express that the overall experience of having a food cart cater a bumpin’ party was even better than eating in the park at lunchtime on a sunny day”—clearly satisfy both prongs of the definition of hearsay. As for the former, the statements were made at the wedding described, not “while testifying at the current trial or hearing.” As for the latter, the statements are clearly offered to prove the truth of the matter asserted, not, for example, to show constructive knowledge. Finally, we find no federal statute, other rule of evidence, or other rule prescribed by the Supreme Court which would allow us to admit these statements into the record. Accordingly, because there is no record on which to assess the relative worth of the wedding reception food truck experience, we must deny cartiorari with regard to the petitioner’s second question.

(As an aside, had the Justices of this Cart been invited to Brad and Julia’s wedding, the outcome may have been different. But we’re not bitter. Not at all. Besides, there are issues of proper judicial conduct to consider.)

Therefore, because neither question of the petitioner presents  a proper basis for granting cartiorari, we must deny the petition under Rule of Procedure 2-3(b).

II. GRANT OF CARTIORARI

Nevertheless, we take this opportunity to nevertheless grant cartiorari under the procedure prescribed by Rule of Procedure 2-2. We grant cartiorari to consider the BBQ Bus Sampler, a platter composed of “smoky pulled pork,” “spiced chicken,” “sliced brisket,” “BBQ bus beans,” “crispy slaw,” and a “buttermilk cornmeal biscuit.”

While we cannot grant cartiorari based on the petition of Julia, Rule of Procedure 2-6 provides that “would-be commenters, who feel some urge to opine on any aspect of any proceeding may do so as an amicus (or amica) curiae by so commenting on the relevant grant of cartiorari or grant of reconsideration.” While the petition of Julia, phrased as a petition under Rule 2-3, does not comply with the specific amicus requirements of Rule 2-6, it would offend justice to give no consideration to the arguments presented. Therefore, we hold that a petition for cartiorari submitted under Rule 2-3 that is denied under Rule 2-3(b) may serve as a constructive amicus brief under Rule of Procedure 2-6, subject to consideration by the Supreme Cart upon grant of cartiorari. The text of the petition of Julia was considered in the adjudication of this case.

BBQ Bus By Night

III. HOURS

Before proceeding to the question of BBQB’s food, I must pause a moment on the enterprise’s hours. Argument took place in the evening hours on an otherwise quiet, leafy, residential stretch of Calvert Street Northwest. BBQB must be applauded for its “dinner” and “late-night” hours. We have previously  touched on the merits of food trucks open outside of lunch hours. See, e.g., In re Choupi, 18 Catt. 2 (2013) (on the question of breakfast). Other metropolises feature vibrant evening street food scenes, for example the famous night markets of Taiwan. The closest we have, perhaps, is Truckeroo, but that is a monthly, somewhat artificial event arguably divorced from surrounding street life. Perhaps BBQB signals a move toward an around-the-clock street food culture. That is to be applauded. On that point alone, I must affirm BBQ, at least in part.

IV. FOOD

A. “Street Food”

I must first ask whether BBQB’s cuisine is properly “street food.” If it is, the jurisprudence of this Cart requires that it be affirmed absent some other grievous error. See In re Big Cheese, 6 Catt. 2 (2012). If it is not, the food truck must prove the worth of its creations. See id. Case law defines “street food” to be that which “can be cooked in front of you and [is] meant to be eaten with your hands, without forks, while standing up.” In re Eat Wonky, 2 Catt. 5 (2011). While this test should not be taken to define the scope of “street food,” it provides a useful starting point. See In re DC Ballers, 19 Catt. 1 (2013) (quoting In re Hot People Food, 6 Catt. 4 (2012)). The bulk of the container containing my meal verifies that it was not meant to be eaten by hand, without forks, or while standing up. Therefore, it cannot meet the strict requirements of the Eat Wonky inquiry. I find no other historical or cultural reasons to find BBQB’s platter to constitute “street food.” It is really nothing more than streetside carry-out. Therefore, the BBQ Bus Sampler must stand entirely on its own inherent worth.

B. The Food Itself

Smoky Pulled Pork. I have written previously of a certain, not entirely fruitful relationship with pulled pork. See In re El Floridano, 2 Catt. 2 (2011); In re DC Empanadas, 1 Catt. 3 (2011). While I have no strong dislike for pulled pork, I tend to find that there are more delectable preparations of pork in barbecue’s repertoire. I say this only to provide honesty in my opinion and to avoid needless claims of hidden bias. See El Floridano, 2 Catt. 2 (affirming a pulled pork sandwich). In the interests of justice, I sampled BBQB’s smoky pulled pork. As far as pulled pork goes, BBQB’s was decent. While not the best I’ve had, even in the DC street food scene, it was good, better even than pulled pork I’ve sampled in more southerly regions of the country. The pork was nicely smoky, as promised, moist, and not shredded into oblivion. A bit of hot sauce, while not necessary, proved helpful.

Spiced Chicken. My clerk and I agree that, of the three meats sampled, the spiced chicken was, surprisingly, the best. It was tender, juicy, and flavorful, quite flavorful in fact, in almost a jerk manner.

Sliced Brisket. Normally fans of barbecue brisket, my clerk and I found BBQB’s sliced brisket the least successful of the three meats sampled. It was somewhat tough and somewhat bland. While not bad, it was not exciting, inspired, or extraordinarily well-executed.  It ranked somewhere slightly below mediocre.

BBQ Bus Beans. BBQB’s beans were average, which is really all I can say about them. BBQB contends they are “[p]acked with more sweet & spicy flavor than you thought could fit in a bean,” though I’m afraid I’ve encountered beans packed with significantly more of both.

Crispy Slaw. BBQB’s slaw is more aptly described as “crisp” than “crispy.” It is composed of “[s]hredded red & green cabbage & carrots tossed in [BBQB’s] house vinaigrette.” My grandfather used to say you could judge the quality of a restaurant by the quality of its coleslaw. Judging by this standard, BBQB is somewhat uninteresting. Luckily for BBQB, this aphorism has never been adopted as a legal standard by this Cart.

Buttermilk Cornmeal Biscuit. I enjoy cornbread, and I enjoy buttermilk biscuits. I do not think I enjoy buttermilk cornmeal biscuits. The cornmeal takes away from the velvety butteriness of the biscuit. The biscuit preparation detracts from the corny grittiness of cornbread. It is not the happiest of mediums.

VI. CONCLUSION

I would enthusiastically affirm the spiced chicken and otherwise affirm the smoky pulled pork, BBQB Bus Beans, and crispy slaw. I would remand the sliced brisket and buttermilk cornmeal biscuit to BBQB for revision. For these reasons, the case is

AFFIRMED in part and REMANDED in part to BBQ Bus for revision. It is so ordered.

No. 80. Mediterranean Delight. Cartiorari granted on the question of lamb platter with chick peas and salad.

No. 81. Food for the Soul. Cartiorari granted on the question of pulled pork sandwich.

No. 82. Curbside Cupcakes Kiosk at Pentagon City Mall. Cartiorari granted on the questions of whether (1) red velvet and (2) carrot cake are within the jurisdiction of the Cart.

The question before us today is whether Trolley Pub (“TP”) of Arlington, Virginia is within the jurisdiction of the Cart. Before I explain what TP is, I will say what it is not. It is not a mobile gastronomic enterprise within the jurisdiction of the Cart. Now after I explain what TP is, I will explain why.

TP is a pedal-powered trolley that is intended to transport six to fourteen persons on a bar crawl in the Clarendon neighborhood. TP’s current route starts around the Courthouse Metro station, runs along Wilson Boulevard past the Clarendon Metro station, and then loops back on Clarendon Boulevard. Food and drink are not provided, but TP customers may bring their own on board. TP comes with its own trolley conductor, built-in bar, and ice chest.

I. JURISDICTIONAL TEST

To come within the Cart’s jurisdiction, an establishment must be a  “mobile gastronomic enterprise” and must be “situated throughout those parts of (a) the County of Arlington, Virginia, (b) the District of Columbia, and (c) the City of Alexandria, Virginia, which are reasonably proximate to public transportation of a reasonably rapid and efficient character.” Rule of Procedure 1-2. This rule is derived from Section 2 of the Judiciary Act of 2011 (Cartiorari Act), which states that the Cart “shall have exclusive jurisdiction of all food carts, trucks, and other transitory alimentary establishments within those portions of the District of Columbia or the part thereof retroceded to the Commonwealth of Virginia by Act of [the] Congress assembled in the year of our Lord 1847.”

In other words, our jurisdictional test contains three elements. First, the establishment must be a “mobile gastronomic enterprise[].” Second, it must be located in Arlington, Alexandria, or DC. Finally, it must be “reasonably proximate” to either the Metro or other form of public transportation.

In the case of TP, the second and third elements are satisfied. TP operates in Arlington, Virginia, and it is accessible from the Courthouse and Clarendon Metro stations. Therefore, whether TP falls under our jurisdiction depends on whether it is a “mobile gastronomic enterprise.”

II. MOBILE ENTERPRISE

The body of law of this tribunal establishes  that a mobile gastronomic enterprise must be “mobile,” i.e., capable of moving, see In re Maine Avenue Fish Market, 11 Catt. 3 (2012), from Point A to Point B, see In re Skydome Lounge, 17  Catt. 4 (2013).

It is clear that TP is capable of moving. It moves by the pedaling power of its customers. It is also equipped with an electric assist if human pedaling is insufficient to propel the trolley forward. Thus, TP meets the mobility requirement set forth in Maine Avenue Fish Market.

Next, in In re Skydome Lounge, 17  Catt. 4 (2013), we held that an enterprise must be capable of moving from Point A to Point B, and we denied jurisdiction to a revolving restaurant because it circled around endlessly. Although TP returns to the place where it originated and so technically moves from Point A to Point A, TP is not like Skydome Lounge. While Skydome Lounge circled around a single point beneath the restaurant, TP does not move in a way that it essentially remains in the same place. It leaves the Courthouse neighborhood, passes bars along Wilson Boulevard, turns around in Clarendon, passes more bars along Clarendon Boulevard, and then returns to Courthouse. TP is not rendered immobile by the ruling in Skydome Lounge because the Skydome Lounge rule applies to an establishment that never leaves its initial place, and not to an establishment that leaves and then later returns to its initial place. Thus, TP satisfies the mobility requirement of Skydome Lounge.

III. GASTRONOMIC ENTERPRISE

Having determined that TP is “mobile,” we must now determine whether the enterprise is “gastronomic.” This Court has only once before interpreted the term in In re Amtrak Café Car, where it was found that a gastronomic enterprise was required to have at least some minimal pretension to “good eating.” 14 Catt. 1 (2012) (Jeremy, C.J., concurring).

Here, we cannot even reach the question of whether TP’s gastronomy meets this minimal showing because TP does not purvey any gastronomy. While customers aboard TP may eat and drink on board, they must provide their own food and drink. Customers may do so either by navigating TP to a third party establishment and purchasing food or drink from that third party, or by securing food and drink from a third party before commencing the journey on TP and bringing the provisions on board.

In order to even reach the question of whether an enterprise’s gastronomy meets a minimal level of good eating, the enterprise is required to prepare and provide gastronomy. Today we find that the preparation and provision of gastronomy is a threshold requirement for a gastronomic enterprise. Because customers of TP cannot purchase and consume gastronomy prepared by TP, TP is not gastronomic and so cannot be a “mobile gastronomic enterprise.”

IV. CONCLUSION

Although TP is mobile, it is not gastronomic because it does not prepare and provide gastronomy to its customers. TP is not a “mobile gastronomic enterprise” within the jurisdiction of the Cart and may not be reviewed.

DISMISSED.

JEREMY, C.J., concurring in the result.

Not unusually, my sister willfully misinterprets my words. She writes, citing to my concurrence in Amtrak Café Car, that we cannot consider TP a “gastronomic enterprise” because it purveys no gastronomy. She reasons that “[i]n order to even reach the question of whether an enterprise’s gastronomy meets a minimal level of good eating, the enterprise is required to prepare and provide gastronomy,” and that, therefore, “the preparation and provision of gastronomy is a threshold requirement for a gastronomic enterprise.”

However, it was never my intent to so limit the reach of our jurisdiction. TP is clearly “mobile” and an “enterprise.” I would find further that it at least has the possibility of being “gastronomic” under Amtrak Café Car depending on what customers bring to its built-in bar. However, the jurisdiction of this Cart extends primarily to the gastronomy of a mobile gastronomic enterprise, and never to the concept of the enterprise alone. As it as yet unknown what individual parties may bring to the bar, the case must be dismissed on grounds of ripeness. Therefore, I concur in the result, but only in the result, of my sister’s decision.

We granted cartiorari on the question of the combination of (1) yebeg wot (a berbere-spiced lamb stew), (2) gomen (buttery collard greens), and (3) tikil gomen (cabbage braised with turmeric) from Simple on Wheels (“SOW”), a mobile gastronomic enterprise purveying Ethiopian offerings.

I. STREET FOOD

Our first inquiry, as always, is whether the offering before us is properly “street food.” If it is, we presume it should be affirmed absent, of course, some grievous error. See In re Big Cheese, 6 Catt. 2 (2012). If it is not, the burden is on the mobile gastronomic enterprise to prove the worth and merit of its creations. See id. We have defined “street food” to be that which “can be cooked in front of you and [is] meant to be eaten with your hands, without forks, while standing up.” In re Eat Wonky, 2 Catt. 5 (2011). We have held that this test provides a starting point but should not be taken to define the scope of “street food.” See In re DC Ballers, 19 Catt. 1 (2013) (quoting In re Hot People Food, 6 Catt. 4 (2012)).

SOW’s cuisine is clearly capable of, and in fact is, “cooked in front of you.” It is less clear, however, that SOW’s food satisfies the second and third factors of our test of “street food.”

It is of course a given with this particular cuisine that it is in a literal sense “meant to be eaten with your hands, without forks.” Our platter was accompanied by a hearty helping of injera. This Cart has never considered whether a meal eaten by means of injera is “meant to be eaten with your hands,” or whether the injera is instead some form of edible utensil and is thus a “fork” of sorts, removing the dish from the scope of “street food.”

However, we need not reach any conclusion on this point at this juncture. Whatever the legal effect of injera on the street-foodness of a particular dish, it is plain in this case that SOW’s particular meal is not meant to be eaten “while standing up.” It is essentially take-out and, as such, requires resort to a bench or, better yet (particularly for the sake of one’s light-colored clothing), a table. Therefore, I must conclude that SOW’s meal is not “street food” as this Cart has traditionally interpreted that term. As a result, the burden rests with SOW to prove the worth of its cuisine. As discussed below, we affirm in part and remand in part.

Simple on Wheels

 II. YEBEG WOT, GOMEN, TIKIL GOMEN

In a city brimming with delicious Ethiopian cuisine, we had long wondered in chambers when Ethiopian fare would hit the food truck scene in earnest. (I would hesitate to call fojol bros.’s gimmicky approach “earnest.”) And so it was with great excitement that we encountered SOW. (A clerk of mine informs me of another truck, Lilypad on the Run, whose day in court will have to wait.)

As noted above, we opted for the combination of (1) a yebeg wot, a spicy, berbere-heavy lamb stew; (2) gomen, or buttery collard greens; and (3) tikil gomen, or lightly-spiced, braised cabbage. This combination, of course, was accompanied by a bounty of injera.

The food was decent. While I’d still prefer to eat at Dukem or Awash, neither serves lunch downtown, and SOW’s cuisine is more than passable and even quite good. The yebeg wot was well spiced and flavorful. Its taste was not dumbed down for the Farragut Square lunch crowd and tasted reasonably authentic. The stew paired well with the collards and cabbage, which were also flavorful and which tasted quite fresh.

I suppose the easiest determinant of an Ethiopian restaurant is its injera. SOW’s injera was good — airy and chewy and sour and teff-y in all the right ways. And the meal came with a lot of it. Of course, this is almost too filling for a weekday, workday lunch break. I spent much of the afternoon in a food coma.

The meal itself was a good deal: $10 for a serving that could easily satiate two.

Yebeg wot with gomen and tikil gomen

The only downside is, as noted above, the difficulty one encounters in eating this sort of meal streetside in work clothes before going back to work. While finger food in a sense, this is hardly dainty eating. By the end of the meal, as we sat back on a bench in Farragut Square, my sister and I noticed a vibrant reddish tint to our fingertips. Olfactory investigation revealed the pungency of berbere. While this is ordinarily of no great concern to me, this does make for a somewhat tricky business lunch. If I had one suggestion for SOW, it would be this: moist towelettes.

In the end, I would affirm SOW for the flavor and freshness of its food and for the bargain of its price. I would, however, remand for the imperfect translation of this sort of dish to workday street food fare. So be it.

AFFIRMED in part and REMANDED in part to Simple on Wheels for revision.

CATTLEYA, J., concurring.

I have two words to offer on the subject, and the Chief Justice already took them out of my mouth: moist towelettes. And a third word: please.

an ordinance to amend, reenact and recodify Chapter 30 (Peddlers, Vendors and Canvassers) of the Arlington County Code, specifically Sections 30-2.1, 30-8, 30-9 and 30-10, to refine the language for exemptions; extend the permitted time for on-street vending from sixty (60) minutes to the lesser of two (2) hours or the lawful time limit prescribed for the respective parking meter zone; explain the regulation of the permitted time; and allow the County Manager greater flexibility in establishing On-Street Vending Zones.

The hearing is scheduled for April 20, 2013, in Room 307, at 2100 Clarendon Blvd. at 9:00 A.M. Click here for more information on the hearing.

For articles regarding the proposed regulations, see:

• Tim Carmen, Arlington looks to expand vending hours for food trucks, Washington Post, March 12, 2013.
• Rachel Hatzipanagos, Why New Laws May Turn Arlington into a Food Truck Haven, Clarendon-Courthouse-Rosslyn Patch, April 8, 2013.
• Martin Austermuhle, With More Flexible Regulations, Arlington Could Steal Away D.C.’s Food Trucks, DCist, April 8, 2013.

For more on the DC food truck regulations, see Parts 1-3 here and here and here.

We granted cartiorari to Stella*s PopKern (“SP”), which describes itself as “DC’s first Gourmet Popcorn . . . food truck.” SP’s menu includes flavors like butter with Brazilian sea salt, zesty white cheddar, and French white chocolate infused with cherry and sea salt. We opted for one of SP’s classic and most popular flavors: salty caramel.

Stella*s PopKern

STREET FOOD

Under our case law, we presume that street food should be affirmed by this court. In re Big Cheese, 6 Catt. 2 (2012). Street food is “the kind[] . . . that can be cooked in front of you and [is] meant to be eaten with your hands, without forks, while standing up.” In re Eat Wonky, 2 Catt. 5 (2011). Although popcorn has never before come before the Cart, we can easily say that popcorn is street food. SP makes its popcorn daily in front of customers, and customers can (and in fact do) eat SP’s popcorn with their hands immediately as they stroll away from the truck. Because popcorn is street food, the Cart has the burden to prove a serious misstep. As explained below, the Cart finds a misstep in the lack of salt in SP’s salty caramel popcorn.

Salty Caramel Popcorn

SALTY CARAMEL POPCORN

SP prepares its popcorn flavors daily, and it recommends eating the freshly-made popcorn within one to two hours after purchase. (If immediate eating is not possible, SP conveniently provides re-crisping instructions on its website.) Different flavors come at different prices, and flavors may be purchased in either small or large. Small bags are generally in the $3-$6 range and large bags in the $6-$9 range. A small bag of salty caramel popcorn was $4.75 with tax.

When I opened the bag and saw the salty caramel popcorn, I excitedly exclaimed to the Chief Justice, “Oh, this is like Cracker Jacks!” The good news is that eating a handful of popcorn confirmed the comparison: SP’s salty caramel popcorn was much like Cracker Jacks. However, the bad news is that the salty caramel popcorn was not much better than Cracker Jacks.

This was an enjoyable snack, but I was still a little disappointed. The popcorn had an even coating of caramel and a nice crunch. However, I wished the very light hint of salt was more like an Emeril “Bam!” — I didn’t detect the saltiness until halfway through the bag.

Overall, I just expected something more. Something that differentiated it from a ballpark snack. Something that screamed, “This was worth your money!” I suspect, based on the long line of repeat customers, that I chose a flavor that just didn’t suit me. And I suspect that I would have enjoyed the French white chocolate infused with cherry and sea salt, or another more-than-basic flavor combination. So, despite my disappointment, I will visit SP again to try another flavor.

CONCLUSION

The salty caramel popcorn was more “caramel” than “salty caramel”. It was very similar to Cracker Jacks, except it didn’t have any peanuts or come with a toy. Still, the popcorn was fresh and the good ingredients were obvious, so it’s probably just best to order a different flavor.

AFFIRMED in part and REMANDED in part to Stella*s PopKern for revision.

JEREMY, C.J., concurring.

It is precisely a case such as that now before the Cart that demonstrates the power of the presumption that proper “street food” should be affirmed. While, given the presumption, I concur in the decision of the Cart, I would add only that I was rather underwhelmed by this bag of toy-less, peanut-less Cracker Jacks.

One sunny but blustery morning in early Spring, we granted cartiorari on the question of the poutine at DC Ballers (“DCB”). My peculiar penchant for the Canadian slop is well documented, see In re Eat Wonky, 2 Catt. 4 (2011), andour clerks had heard wonderful things about DCB’s poutine. We awaited DCB’s poutine with great anticipation.

And so it was with some degree of shock and dismay that we found a menu affixed to DCB’s vehicle sans poutine. Nevertheless, having already positioned ourselves before the mobile gastronomic enterprise, and presented with a menu replete with other fried-potato offerings, we resolved to put our dreams of poutine behind us and forge ahead in our judicial duties, granting cartiorari instead on the question of “Greek Fries.”

Greek fries, as the name might suggest, pairs feta and oregano with seasoned fries. The presentation is a brown lunch bag, oil-stained.

DC Ballers

I. STREET FOOD

Our first inquiry always is to determine where the burden of proof lies in a particular case. This Cart has long presumed that, absent grievous error, “street food” should be affirmed. See In re Big Cheese, 6 Catt. 2 (2012). Street food is defined by this Cart as “the kind[] . . . that can be cooked in front of you and [is] meant to be eaten with your hands, without forks, while standing up.” In re Eat Wonky, 2 Catt. 5 (2011).

This Cart has held that many things constitute street food: sandwiches, tacos, etc. However, this Cart has never addressed whether French fry-based dishes are inherently “street food.” Coincidentally, the last case of this Cart’s jurisprudence prior to our adoption of the Eat Wonky test concerned just that. See Eat Wonky, 2 Catt. 4.

French fries, of course, are generally cooked in front of you, are meant to be eaten with your hands, without forks, while standing up. However, that realization cannot end our inquiry. In the case of DCB’s Greek Fries, we found that the scale and scope and presentation of the oil-soaked bag of fries, covered in globs of feta and loose seasonings, is most easily enjoyed with a fork. Moreover, as discussed below, we found the dish to also read better as a fork-based dish. Therefore, I find that DCB cannot meet the letter of the Eat Wonky test even though the basis of the dish—French fries—are generally “street food.”

However, we have held that the Eat Wonky test is “not intended to affirmatively define the entire class of ‘street food,’ but is rather intended only to be a multifactor test to guide and direct our analysis.” In re Hot People Food, 6 Catt. 4 (2012). Because the dish is best eaten fresh off the truck, because it is quite easily eaten while in motion or while sitting on a park bench, and because it tends to embody a certain spirit of street food, I would find that, despite use of a fork, DCB’s Greek fries constitute “street food” and are thus entitled to the presumption of affirmance.

In this case, that presumption cannot be rebutted.

Greek Fries

II. GREEK FRIES

As noted above, Greek fries present a rather simple notion: (1) French fries, (2) feta, (3) oregano, (4) seasoning. We of the Cart tend to admire simplicity, as with a simple dish the question becomes one of execution. In this case, DCB’s Greek fries, while not a perfect dish, are reasonably well executed.

Flavor. The combination of warm, fried potato; crumbles of salty feta; and aromatic oregano is delightful. I’m sure it should remind me of the Peloponnese or of some remote Mediterranean islet, but, unfortunately, I have no such frame of reference. Nevertheless, the classic combination of flavors is flawless and well-balanced and provided a warm and sunny respite on a brisk and blustery day.

Fries. The fries are good but not perfect. We have spoken well of fries that are “fresh and hot and crisp with a pillowy center.” See Eat Wonky, 2 Catt. 4. While DCB’s fries were most certainly fresh, most certainly hot, and featured, one might say, a certain pillowiness to their interiors, a true crispness was disappointingly lacking. For this reason, we found that the dish was best enjoyed with a fork—in other words, as a sort of Greek hash brown. And, really, in that manner, the dish was quite delightful. (I believe we commented, in an uncharacteristic moment of youthfulness, that it would make decent drunk food, but the late-night food truck scene has not yet caught on.)

Quantity and Value. For $5, you get a bag of fries that could easily feed two-to-three people. In our case, it fed two rather ravenous Justices, but we are perhaps not entirely representative. Regardless, at $5, this is a good deal and could easily make a meal unto itself (albeit an entirely unhealthy one).

For the reasons above, this case is

AFFIRMED.

Today, Doug Povich, Chairman of the Food Truck Association of Metropolitan Washington and Co-Owner of Red Hook Lobster Pound sent out the following email regarding the most recent efforts to regulate the food truck scene:

I am a proud fifth-generation Washingtonian. In the early 1960’s my grandfather was appointed by President Kennedy to be President of the Board of Commissioners of Washington, DC, which governed the city before we had mayors. My grandfather’s vision for the city was based on opportunities for all people to succeed and for innovation to thrive.

Two years ago, I started the Red Hook Lobster Pound because I wanted to be a part of the new food truck scene here and to bring a taste of Maine to DC. I was intrigued by a business model that allowed a relatively low cost entry into the food services industry and was excited to see the smiles on the faces of our loyal customers.

Today, my food truck is being pushed towards extinction. Mayor Gray’s proposed regulations would base my business’ success and failure on the luck of winning a lottery rather than on the quality of our food.

The Food Truck Association needs your help to defeat these regulations. Will you join the Save DC Food Trucks campaign and stand up to these unfair regulations?

Mayor Gray’s proposed regulations will reduce your lunch choices and make it difficult for your favorite food trucks to stay in business. The lottery system could even push your favorite food trucks out of the most popular downtown areas for months on end.

Mayor Gray’s ill-conceived regulations will squash opportunities for small business owners like myself, a far cry from the vision that my grandfather had for this city.

We need a city that supports food trucks. We need your help to save the food trucks in DC, because without our collective voice, the Mayor’s regulations will pass and many of the trucks you know and love will be pushed out of DC.

Join our campaign to today:

http://savedcfoodtrucks.org

Thanks,

Doug Povich

Chairman, Food Truck Association of Metropolitan Washington
Co-Owner, Red Hook Lobster Pound

For articles regarding the proposed regulations, see:

• Washington City Paper: here and here.
• Washington Post: here and here.

No. 76. Stella*s PopKern. Cartiorari granted on the question of salty caramel popcorn.

No. 77. Simple on Wheels. Cartiorari granted on the questions of (1) yebeg wot with (2) gomen and (3) tikil gomen.

No. 78. Trolley Pub Arlington. Cartiorari granted on the question of whether BYOB is within the jurisdiction of the Cart.

La Tingeria’s authentic Mexican dishes first graced the lunch table of this court late last year. I was most pleased with La Tingeria’s tinga, quesadilla, and elote loco. The delicious flavors and affordable prices even had me declare that “La Tingeria ha[d] become one of my favorite food trucks.” In re La Tingeria (La Tingeria I), 15 Catt. 3 (2012). I granted cartiorari to try the rest of the items on La Tingeria’s menu, so that the reader may form a more complete picture of La Tingeria’s offerings.

La Tingeria

As I explained when La Tingeria first appeared before the Cart, the menu is simple. First, “you pick a meat, then you pick a vehicle to contain it.” La Tingeria I, 15 Catt. 3. The meat options are beef, chorizo, and chicken. The “vehicle” options are tingas, quesadillas, tacos, and sopes. At the end of last year, La Tingeria planned to retire quesadillas and sopes from the menu, but they returned this year with the original menu, including the quesadillas and sopes. As the reader will see below, this is a very good thing. The menu may soon expand to include tortas as well. Each menu item is $2.50.

In La Tingeria I, I opted for a beef tinga and chorizo quesadilla. So that I could review for the reader all of La Tingeria’s menu options (as of the date of this writing), I ordered a chicken taco and chorizo sope this time around.

TRUE STREET FOOD

Before I discuss the merits of these two menu items, I must establish who carries the burden of proof in this case. This Cart presumes that all street food should be fully affirmed. If the food before us is properly classified as “street,” then the food may only be remanded for revision if the Cart meets the high burden to prove a severe misstep.  See In re Big Cheese, 6 Catt. 2 (2012). Street food is defined by this court as “the kind[] . . . that can be cooked in front of you and [is] meant to be eaten with your hands, without forks, while standing up.” In re Eat Wonky, 2 Catt. 5 (2011). We have already determined that La Tingeria’s hand-held food offerings are street food. La Tingeria I, 15 Catt. 3; see also In re El Chilango, 12 Catt. 2 (2012) (holding that tacos are street food). Thus, La Tingeria’s dishes are entitled to the presumption of affirmance by this court.

CHICKEN TACO

As an authentic Mexican taco should be, La Tingeria advertises that a taco includes your choice of meat served on two corn tortillas and then topped with onion and cilantro. However, when my chicken taco arrived, it was topped with lettuce, Mexican cheese, and crema Mexicana. The shredded chicken filling was surprisingly flavorful and moist. Cooked with onion, it achieved a nice mix of sweet and spicy. Overall, the taco was tasty, although I would have preferred the more traditional toppings of onion and cilantro to the less traditional lettuce and cheese.

It was a solid dish, but still, the taco is La Tingeria’s weakest menu offering. This is for two reasons. First, while eating La Tingeria’s taco, my mind could not help but wander to another authentic Mexican food truck that serves tacos (and only tacos) and has perfected the dish–from the lightly toasted two-ply corn tortillas to the side of fresh radish slices. I speak of El Chilango. See El Chilango, 12 Catt. 2. Second, the other three options on La Tingeria’s menu (tinga, quesadilla, sope) are so strong and so memorable that the taco cannot compete. For more on La Tingeria’s tinga and quesadilla, see La Tingeria I, 15 Catt. 3. For more on the sope, see below.

Chicken Taco & Chorizo Sope

 CHORIZO SOPE

Until I walked up to La Tingeria’s window, I had never heard of or tried a sope. What you get is a thick tortilla that is fried on the outside. It is then layered with a refried bean spread, your choice of meat, onion, cilantro, Mexican cheese, and crema Mexicana. It may not be the prettiest (or least caloric) of foods, but the result was spectacular. The fried exterior of the tortilla provided a nice crunchy texture, while the thick center was still soft. The thickness of the tortilla also functioned to support the weight of the heavy toppings. The ground chorizo was wonderfully fatty and spicy, and the refried beans were flavorful. The onion, cilantro, and cheese finished off the dish nicely. As soon as I ate the last bite, I wanted to run back and order another one. Without a doubt in my mind, La Tingeria’s sope is the star. I plan on returning to La Tingeria for this menu item alone on a regular basis (though for the sake of my waistline, probably every other week instead of every week).

CONCLUSION

La Tingeria has solidified itself as my favorite “everyday” food truck. Cf. In re Red Hook Lobster Pound, 2 Catt. 1 (2011) (describing a “special occasion” food truck). Its menu focuses on delicious, satisfying dishes, and it offers everything at cheap prices. Sure, it’s not without some missteps (e.g., as with my first visit, there were some mix-ups with the orders). But La Tingeria usually gets it right, and when it’s right, it’s excellent.

AFFIRMED. It is so ordered.

One morning I was running very late to the courthouse.  Broken alarm clock. Mismatched socks hiding under my long black robe. No breakfast. How I wished I had in my employ a chef named Fritz Brenner who could make me eggs au beurre noir, broiled Georgia ham, and hashed brown potatoes! See REX STOUT, OVER MY DEAD BODY (1940). But it was not so. As I rushed through the streets to the courthouse—stomach at full growl—I stopped suddenly when I spotted a little yellow food cart at the end of the block. A food cart serving breakfast? Yes, please.

The food cart was Choupi, and it was not the first time that I had seen the crêpe* cart. The Chief Justice and I shared a nutella-banana-walnut crêpe last fall when a full docket had us in need of an afternoon dessert. I asked then, “[W]hy would you eat a savory crepe when you could indulge in a sweet crepe?” See In re Choupi, 12 Catt. 3 (2012). I now know that the answer lies in breakfast.

Choupi

Not wishing to subject my stomach to an overly sugary meal so early in the morning, I focused on Choupi’s savory offerings. The menu includes a variety of meat, vegetable, and cheese options. It even has eggs. All crêpes start at $3.50, and each topping is 50 cents. I opted for a classic flavor combination and ordered ham, mushroom, and cheese. (The combination is such a classic that it appears on a list of “Choupi’s Favorites,” though as a lunch item.)

Before I go any further, I must address the issue of “street food.” Because crêpes are street food, defined as “the kind[] of food[] that can be cooked in front of you and [is] meant to be eaten with your hands, without forks, while standing up,” In re Eat Wonky, 2 Catt. 5 (2011), the savory crêpe before me today is entitled to the presumption of affirmance. See In re Big Cheese, 6 Catt. 2 (2012) (explaining the presumption in favor of street food); In re Choupi, 12 Catt. 3 (2012) (holding that crêpes are street food). Therefore, I must affirm the ham-mushroom-cheese crêpe unless I can show a severe flaw with the dish. I cannot.

Ham, mushroom, and cheese crêpe

Just like my first dining experience with Choupi, my crêpe pancake was prepared on the griddle by an expert hand. It was light and thin and soft, though it was not as flaky on the outside as the first time. I would recommend indicating your preference for a crispier crêpe if you indeed do prefer a crispier crêpe.

The ham-mushroom-cheese filling was warm and tasty. The ham added some saltiness, the mushroom slices were fresh, and the cheese held everything together nicely. I remember wanting more cheese as I chomped away on the crêpe, but that was just me in my ravenous state trying to turn a beautiful thin crêpe into an oozy grilled cheese sandwich or a cheesy quesadilla.

Although I still prefer sweet crêpes, I recognize that savory crêpes have their place in this world. And that place is at 8am when one needs breakfast before going to work. Choupi–one of the very few food carts/trucks in the area that serves breakfast–opens at 7:30am, Monday through Friday. Find it on North Lynn St. near the Rosslyn metro, and then be sure to return later for a sweet crêpe in the afternoon.

AFFIRMED. It is so ordered.

*Throughout this opinion I use “crêpe” instead of “crepe” to please the Chief Justice, who I’m sure is mad at me for being late to the courthouse and for eating a crêpe without him. For the Chief Justice’s feelings on the use of “crepe”, see In re Choupi, 12 Catt. 3 (2012) (Jeremy, C.J., dissenting).

Recently, a new food truck caught my attention on the streets of Arlington. The pink-colored truck featured a cartoon woman (to my eye, a dark-haired cross between Jane Jetson and Lucille Ball) serving an enormous tray of donuts. It was named Mama’s Donut Bites (“MDB”), and I could not stop myself from granting cartiorari to review MDB under the authority given to me by Rule of Procedure 2-2.

Mama’s Donut Bites

STREET FOOD

The procedures of this reviewing tribunal dictate that I must first determine whether MDB’s donut bites are street food. This is because the Cart presumes that street food should be fully affirmed. Food that does not qualify as “street” is not entitled to the same presumption and must prove its worthiness. See In re Big Cheese, 6 Catt. 2 (2012).

This court has defined street food as “the kind[] of food[] that can be cooked in front of you and [is] meant to be eaten with your hands, without forks, while standing up.” In re Eat Wonky, 2 Catt. 5 (2011). We have consistently held that baked goods, like cupcakes, cheesecakes, and pies, are not street food. See In re That Cheesecake Truck, 10 Catt. 4 (2012); In re Sweetbites, 10 Catt. 1 (2012); In re Dangerously Delicious Pies, 4 Catt. 4 (2011). Although donuts would seem to easily fit into the non-street-food category of baked goods, MDB’s donuts are different. For one thing, they are deep-fried, not baked. More importantly, they meet the three elements of the “street food” test. First, they can be prepared in front of the customer. When MDB sets up at farmers’ markets in Northern Virginia, customers can watch MDB make the donut batter and then fry the rings. Second, donuts are meant to be eaten with your hands, for how else would you get to enjoy the pleasure of licking any excess frosting/sugary topping from your fingers? Finally, donuts can be easily eaten while standing up. Therefore, MDB’s donut bites are proper street food, and this Cart presumes that the donuts should be affirmed. For the reasons below, I would affirm MDB’s donuts even without this presumption.

APPLE CIDER DONUT BITES

MDB’s menu is simple. It sells bite-sized donuts, plus coffee. A bag of 6 donut bites is $3, a bag of 12 is $5, and a bag of 26 is $10. A 16-oz. cup of coffee is $1.50. On my visit, MDB had apple cider donut bites available. It creates other flavors, including red velvet donut bites with cream cheese frosting.

Apple Cider Donut Bites

Although I think of donuts more as a breakfast item than as a dessert, MDB’s apple cider donut bites were a sweet way to end my afternoon meal. MDB explains that they are “made with local apple cider and fresh apples then tossed in a delicious cinnamon-sugar mixture.” The hot, made-to-order mini donut rings were a perfect size to pop in the mouth. The apple cider flavor was appealing, and the cinnamon-sugar made it addictive. The donut bites were generously tossed in the cinnamon-sugar mixture, as evidenced by the sugary mound at the bottom of my bag, and yet they managed not to be too sweet. To my delight, the donut bites were light, fluffy, and not heavy in the stomach, which made it easy to keep reaching into my bag for another, and another, and one last piece, and then just one more. . . and one more.

For those who want to kick up the sweetness, MDB has a help-yourself toppings bar with options such as homemade raspberry preserves, white chocolate, dark chocolate, caramel, and rainbow sprinkles. The apple cider donuts were delicious on their own and did not need any toppings, but I tried the raspberry preserves (because I can’t resist homemade foodstuff) and white chocolate (because white chocolate goes so well with raspberry). Both toppings were spot on.

CONCLUSION

The members of this Cart typically wait a few months before reviewing a new food truck in order to serve the causes of fairness and justice. I made an exception here because (1) although new to the line of food trucks during the weekday lunch service, MDB has been serving its donut bites on weekend mornings at farmers’ markets in Northern Virginia (e.g., Westover, Falls Church, Vienna, Dale City) for over a year; and (2) I find no fault in MDB’s donut bites.

I conclude that MDB knows how to make a hot, fresh, and tasty donut. Usually when I grab donuts on the run from convenience stores or breakfast chains I end up regretting the wasted calories, but not here. There is no comparison. These donuts are worth it. And I can’t wait to try more donut bite flavors for breakfast or dessert.

AFFIRMED. It is so ordered.

No. 73. Choupi. Cartiorari granted on the question of ham, mushroom, and cheese crepe.

No. 74. La Tingeria. Cartiorari granted on the questions of (1) chorizo sope and (2) chicken taco.

Today, I take up the question of whether the Skydome Lounge—a revolving restaurant at Arlington’s DoubleTree Hotel—falls within the jurisdiction of this Supreme Cart. For the reasons given below, I must conclude that it is not. Which is all the better, for the Forget-Me-Not—a particularly vile concoction of cherry brandy, amaretto, banana liqueur, and orange juice—would not fare well by my quill.

Under Section 2 of the Judiciary Act of 2011 (Cartiorari Act), this Cart “shall have exclusive jurisdiction of all food carts, trucks, and other transitory alimentary establishments within those portions of the District of Columbia or the part thereof retroceded to the Commonwealth of Virginia by Act of [the] Congress assembled in the year of our Lord 1847.” From this statement, Rule of Procedure 1-2 provides that “[t]he jurisdiction of the Cart shall extend to all mobile gastronomic enterprises situated throughout those parts of (a) the County of Arlington, Virginia, (b) the District of Columbia, and (c) the City of Alexandria, Virginia, which are reasonably proximate to public transportation of a reasonably rapid and efficient character.” See In re China Garden, 5 Catt. 1 (2012).

In this case, the second and third prongs of our jurisdictional test—location and proximity to public transportation—are clearly met. Therefore, discussion must center on whether the Skydome Lounge is held to constitute a “mobile gastronomic enterprise,” as that term has been interpreted throughout the jurisprudence of this Supreme Cart. Under the decisions of this Cart, the enterprise must be both (1) “mobile,” i.e., capable of moving in its entirety, see China Garden, 5 Catt. 1, and In re Maine Avenue Fish Market, 11 Catt. 3 (2012), and (2) “gastronomic,” i.e., characterized by at least some minimal pretension to “good eating,” see In re Amtrak Café Car, 14 Catt. 1 (2012) (Jeremy, C.J., concurring).

In the present case, the enterprise that is the Skydome Lounge is admittedly “gastronomic.” Though the Forget-Me-Not was an unimaginably abysmal cocktail, it is easily distinguished from the prepackaged offerings held not to be “gastronomic” in Amtrak Café Car. Some poor mixologist of the Skydome Lounge undoubtedly invented or at least prepared the drink. It therefore meets the de minimis test this Cart has established to determine what constitutes “gastronomy.”

Therefore, because the Skydome Lounge is undoubtedly a gastronomic enterprise, discussion must center on whether it is “mobile.” It is no secret I have, in the past, espoused the rather expansive “plate tectonics” test of “mobility.” See In re Brennan’s, 1 Jer. 1 (2012). Unfortunately, the other member of this Cart has repeatedly rejected the sound logic of that decision. See In re Langston Grille on Wheels, 13 Catt.  5 (2012); Amtrak Café Car, 14 Catt. 1. I will take the peacemaking path and stand down in order to preserve the solemn stature of this august institution.

In a growing line of cases, we have held that the enterprise itself must be mobile. China Garden, 5 Catt. 1; In re Dippin’ Dots, 10 Catt. 5 (2012). Not only that, the enterprise must actually be moved, not merely capable of being moved. Maine Avenue Fish Market, 11 Catt. 3 (2012). My sister has also held that the enterprise must bring food to the customer, in contrast to the enterprise in Amtrak Café Car in which the customer moved with the enterprise. That decision could easily resolve the case before us as, in a revolving restaurant, the customer moves with the enterprise. However, I disputed then and continue to dispute now the veracity of that decision. I wrote in that case that the relationship between the enterprise and its customer can find no clear basis in the texts which establish the jurisdiction of this Cart. I stand by that statement.

Instead, I would find that the Skydome Lounge is not “mobile” because the enterprise is incapable of moving from Point A to Point B. Instead, it revolves endlessly around a single point beneath the center of the restaurant. That is, the enterprise goes nowhere and is thus more like the immobilized barge in Maine Avenue Fish Market than the traveling train in Amtrak Café Car. Because the Skydome Lounge revolves around a single point rather than traveling from Point A to Point B, it cannot be considered “mobile.”

Accordingly, the Cart lacks jurisdiction over the Skydome Lounge, and the case is

DISMISSED.

CATTLEYA, J., concurring in the result.

Under our decision in In re Amtrak Café Car, 14 Catt. 1 (2012), Skydome Lounge is outside the jurisdiction of the Cart. The “other member of this Cart” will take the “peacemaking path” by saying only that and nothing more, for in the end the correct result is reached.

Before the Cart today is Kafta Mania (“KM”), a Lebanese food truck serving the streets of Virginia. Last week I reviewed KM’s Classic Kafta sandwich and stuffed grape leaves, see In re Kafta Mania, 17 Catt. 2 (2013), and now I consider its Halloumi Cheese Panini and baba ghanoush.

I. The Street Food Test

The first issue to be settled can be done so easily. Our regular reader knows that in order to establish who bears the burden of proof in this case, it must be determined whether the food before us qualifies as “street food.”  Street food is entitled to the presumption of affirmance by this court, unless the Cart meets the high burden to prove that there is something wrong with the food. See In re Big Cheese, 6 Catt. 2 (2012). We have defined street food as “the kind[] of food[] that can be cooked in front of you and [is] meant to be eaten with your hands, without forks, while standing up.” In re Eat Wonky, 2 Catt. 5 (2011).

Our case law is clear that sandwiches are street food. See, e.g., In re Kababji Food Truck, 15 Catt. 2 (2012); In re Hometown Heros, 14 Catt. 2 (2012); In re Pepe, 13 Catt. 4 (2012); In re Wassub, 13 Catt. 1 (2012); In re Borinquen Lunch Box, 10 Catt. 3 (2012); In re Willie’s Po’Boy, 7 Catt. 4 (2012); Big Cheese, 6 Catt. 2. What is more, because a sandwich is the main component of the meal being reviewed today, the side dish does not need to be street food for the presumption of affirmance to apply. See In re OoH DaT ChickeN, 16 Catt. 3 (2013) (explaining that where “the principal component of a food truck combination platter is reasonably considered ‘street food,’ the presumption of affirmance should apply.”). Thus, without determining whether baba ghanoush is street food, I can say that KM is entitled to the presumption that this Cart should affirm its dishes in toto.

Halloumi Cheese Panini with Baba Ghanoush

 II. Halloumi Cheese Panini ($6.99)

KM describes its Halloumi Cheese Panini as “[g]rilled halloumi cheese, tomato and oregano on a 6 inch baguette.” I have tasted a great many cheeses in my life, but I have never had the pleasure to try Halloumi cheese before. (I also have never tried Wensleydale cheese, but I hear good things about it from a cheese connoisseur named Wallace, and I hope to try it soon.) My law clerk tells me that Halloumi is a white cheese with a high melting point. If I had opened my Styrofoam container expecting a melted and oozy grilled cheese sandwich, I might have been disappointed. Maybe, for a second, until I gave KM’s panini a try. The Halloumi cheese was texturally similar to mozzarella, except a bit drier and saltier. It was quite tasty. The combination of cheese, tomato, and oregano was very classic, but with a slightly salty twist. Everything was encased nicely by KM’s choice of bread. The sandwich roll developed beautiful grill marks and a nice crust on the outside.

III. Baba Ghanoush ($1.50)

KM’s baba ghanoush, a mix of mashed eggplant, tahini, garlic, and lemon, was served with pita chips. The chips and dip were very good. The baba ghanoush was marked by a strong smoky taste, which was probably the result of the eggplant being expertly roasted over an open flame. The pita chips were fresh, crunchy, herby, and salty. The pita chips ran out before my portion of baba ghanoush did, but I was more than happy to eat the baba ghanoush on its own . . . and then maybe clean off my Styrofoam container so as to not miss a single drop.

IV. Conclusion

 For the reasons above, the case is

AFFIRMED. It is so ordered.

I granted cartiorari to Kafta Mania (“KM”), a food truck serving up Lebanese food. KM’s menu features a variety of sandwiches, including three versions of a kafta sandwich, and side dishes like hummus, baba ghanoush, and stuffed grape leaves. In today’s opinion, I review KM’s signature sandwich, the so-called Classic Kafta, as well as the stuffed grape leaves. In a companion case to be discussed next week, In re Kafta Mania, 17 Catt. 3 (2012), I review KM’s Halloumi Cheese Panini with a side of baba ghanoush.

My first question upon seeing a black-painted food truck with “Kafta Mania” written in white bold letters was, “What is kafta?” KM’s website explains that kafta is “made by grinding meat, mixing it with spices, and forming it into balls or cylinders for cooking.” In other words, kafta is a mix of ground meat and spices, which is shaped into a meatball or patty, and then grilled (or baked or fried). In other other words, kafta is kind of like a hamburger.

In the case of KM’s Classic Kafta, the ground meat is beef; the spices include (at least) parsley, salt, and pepper; and the shape is a rectangular patty. The patty is topped with tomato, red onions, and KM’s “special Mediterranean sauce.” It is then served on a six-inch baguette. (I did not measure KM’s bread, but I assume that KM means to give a measurement of the bread’s length, unlike Subway which describes the length of its subs without intending to give a measurement of length.)

Kafta Mania

Before I discuss the merits of KM’s Classic Kafta, I must determine whether the sandwich and side order before the Cart today are street food. This Cart has defined street food as “the kind[] of food[] that can be cooked in front of you and [is] meant to be eaten with your hands, without forks, while standing up.” See In re Eat Wonky, 2 Catt. 5 (2011). This Cart has repeatedly held that sandwiches are street food. See, e.g., In re Kababji Food Truck, 15 Catt. 2 (2012); In re Hometown Heros, 14 Catt. 2 (2012); In re Pepe, 13 Catt. 4 (2012); In re Wassub, 13 Catt. 1 (2012); In re Borinquen Lunch Box, 10 Catt. 3 (2012); In re Willie’s Po’Boy, 7 Catt. 4 (2012); In re Big Cheese, 6 Catt. 2 (2012).

A dish’s status as street food affects the burden of proof in its case before the Cart. We presume that street food should be fully affirmed unless we meet the high burden to prove that there is something wrong with the food. See Big Cheese, 6 Catt. 2. Because KM’s Classic Kafta is street food, I need not determine whether the side dish of stuffed grape leaves is street food. This is because where “the principal component of a food truck combination platter is reasonably considered ‘street food,’ the presumption of affirmance should apply.” In re OoH DaT ChickeN, 16 Catt. 3 (2013). Here, the principal component (a sandwich) is street food, so the entire sandwich-and-side-dish platter must be affirmed, unless I show that there is a significant flaw with the platter.

Classic Kafta with Stuffed Grape Leaves

I now turn to the Classic Kafta ($7.99). I start first with the bread–the first thing that one’s teeth sinks into when eating the sandwich. Although I have a great passion for crusty bread (especially when dipped into a mix of olive oil and balsamic vinegar), I was afraid that KM’s choice of bread would ruin the sandwich. I feared that a baguette would be too rough against the roof of the mouth and too tough to chew. But to my great delight, I was wrong. KM’s choice of bread (more of a roll than a baguette) was very pleasing–lightly toasted on the outside, and soft and fluffy on the inside.

The filling was even more pleasing. The ground beef patty was succulent when it very easily could have been dried out like an overcooked hamburger. And it was packed with flavor. Whatever was mixed in with the beef (certainly onion and parsley, and maybe allspice and garlic) gave it a very full flavor. The add-ons of a fresh tomato slice, diced red onions, and KM’s special sauce completed the sandwich nicely. The overall effect was a well-rounded, earthy flavor that I’ve never quite tasted before. It was delicious.

My side of stuffed grape leaves ($2 for 4 pieces) matched the high quality of the sandwich. I must admit that I’ve never enjoyed stuffed grape leaves before, but KM’s version changed my mind about the dish. The versions I’ve had in the past either used mint leaves too heavily (I’m not a fan of fresh mint leaves) or didn’t quite manage to fuse the grape leaves and filling into a cohesive dish. KM didn’t do the first and achieved the second. Plus, KM’s stuffed grape leaves were obviously homemade and very, very fresh.

My sandwich-and-one-side lunch came out to $10. Although on the pricey side, the food was very good. And, for me, it was worth paying a little more than usual for lunch in order to try something (i.e., kafta) that I’ve never eaten before. For all these reasons, the case is

AFFIRMED. It is so ordered.

We granted cartiorari to Yumpling, which describes itself as “DC’s first and finest dumplings coming fresh out of [a] tricked out truck.” This Cart has previously tried dumplings from a food truck, one based in Arlington, VA. At the time, I wished (to no avail) that the food truck, called Hot People Food, would change its menu to focus exclusively on dumplings—steamed dumplings, fried dumplings, and soup dumplings. See In re Hot People Food, 6 Catt. 4 (2012) (Cattleya, J., concurring). I wanted a dumpling truck on our streets then, and almost a year later, I’m still looking for a dumpling truck. Is Yumpling that dumpling truck?

Yumpling

I. Street Food

Our first order of business is to determine whether Yumpling’s dumplings are “street food” as the Cart has defined the term. This is an issue of who bears the burden of proof in this case. Street food, defined as “the kind[] of food[] that can be cooked in front of you and [is] meant to be eaten with your hands, without forks, while standing up,” In re Eat Wonky, 2 Catt. 5 (2011), is entitled to the presumption that it should be affirmed by this court, unless we can show that the food suffers from a significant flaw. See In re Big Cheese, 6 Catt. 2 (2012). It is the well-settled case law of this judicial body that dumplings are street food. See Hot People Food, 6 Catt. 4. Thus, we have the burden to prove a flaw or else we must conclude that Yumpling’s dumplings belong on the streets.

Beef Dumplings

II. Yumpling’s Beef Dumplings

When we visited Yumpling, it was serving beef, chicken, and vegetable steamed dumplings. It has since added pork and shrimp dumplings to the menu. You can get six pieces for $5 or 10 pieces for $8. Any order can mix and match the different fillings. We opted for six beef dumplings. For the New Year’s calorie counters among us (which includes me), Yumpling advertises that six dumplings are less than 300 calories. You also have the option to pair your dumplings with a side of lobster bisque or edamame. As we were looking for dumplings as an appetizer to start off a long day of oral arguments, we passed on the add-ons. (Plus, our palates—prepared for Asian-style dumplings—were a bit confused by the inclusion of a creamy French-style soup.)

As we explained when we granted cartiorari to a dumpling meal in a previous case, there are two principal considerations of a dumpling: (1) the skin and (2) the filling. See Hot People Food, 6 Catt. 4. In Yumpling’s case, the skin was done well. It was chewy and not too thin. For the most part, it held up to the steaming process (only one dumpling in our container of six was not intact). The beef filling was mild but nice. The problem was that there was so little of it inside each dumpling. I wish there had been more so that the beef flavor came through in every bite. Overall, the dumplings were like the dumplings from your everyday cheap takeout restaurant. Not amazing, but not bad.

In the end, Yumpling is not the dumpling truck of my dreams. I’m still waiting for a food truck to pull up in front of the court with a menu of steamed, fried, and soup dumplings. Dumplings of different textures and different flavors. Dumplings to fill the stomach and warm the soul.

III. Conclusion

For the reasons above, the case is

AFFIRMED in part and REMANDED in part to Yumpling for revision.

JEREMY, C.J., concurring.

I agree with every line of my sister’s well-reasoned opinion. I write separately only because it would pain me not to have the last word.

No. 69. Kafta Mania. Cartiorari granted on the questions of (1) Classic Kafta and (2) stuffed grape leaves.

No. 70. Kafta Mania. Cartiorari granted on the questions of (1) Halloumi Cheese Panini and (2) baba ghanoush.

No. 71. Skydome Lounge. Cartiorari granted on the question of whether drinks are within the jurisdiction of the Cart.

Make My Cake (“MMC”) is a food truck based in New York City. On Monday, January 21, 2013, for the second inauguration of President Barack Obama, MMC drove from Harlem to Washington, DC to serve cupcakes and cheesecakes to inauguration attendees. MMC was permitted by the inauguration committee to serve the District’s streets for one day. The question before us today is whether this Supreme Cart has jurisdiction over MMC’s cakes.

I. Jurisdictional Test

Under the Judiciary Act of 2011 (Cartiorari Act), “the Supreme Cart [has] exclusive jurisdiction of all food carts, trucks, and other transitory alimentary establishments within those portions of the District of Columbia or the part thereof retroceded to the Commonwealth of Virginia.” Our Rule of Procedure 1-2 provides that “[t]he jurisdiction of the Cart shall extend to all mobile gastronomic enterprises situated throughout those parts of (a) the County of Arlington, Virginia, (b) the District of Columbia, and (c) the City of Alexandria, Virginia, which are reasonably proximate to public transportation of a reasonably rapid and efficient character.”

Thus, our jurisdictional test contains three elements. First, the establishment under consideration must be located in DC, Arlington, or Alexandria. Second, it must be a mobile gastronomic enterprise. Third, it must be reasonably proximate to public transportation of a reasonably rapid and efficient character.

II. Located in DC, Arlington, or Alexandria

At the center of the present case is the first element, which requires the mobile gastronomic enterprise under consideration to be located in DC, Arlington, or Alexandria. The second and third elements are not in dispute. So, is MMC—a NY-based truck that served DC’s streets for one day—“situated” in DC?

We have once before met with a mobile gastronomic enterprise that served food in DC for a limited time. In In re Amtrak Café Car, 14 Catt. 1 (2012), we denied jurisdiction to a regional train that sold food to its passengers because, inter alia, it left the Cart’s geographic jurisdiction.

MMC’s case, however, is not identical to Amtrak’s. Amtrak happened to serve food to its passengers in DC. It served food while the train moved from Boston to New Haven to New York to Philadelphia to DC to Richmond to Norfolk. MMC, on the other hand, purposely traveled from New York to DC to serve its cakes. Its intention was to serve cakes in DC. It applied for a special inauguration permit, it underwent health and safety inspections by DC officials, and it followed DC officials’ instructions to set up along Pennsylvania Avenue on Inauguration Day. Unlike Amtrak which just passed through DC, MMC purposefully came to DC.

I find that the analysis to settle the question before this Cart (i.e., whether a mobile gastronomic enterprise that temporarily enters our geographic region is “situated” in our geographic region) is similar to the personal jurisdiction analysis of federal civil procedure. A court in Place A has personal jurisdiction over a party from Place B if the party has “minimum contacts” with Place A. International Shoe Co. v. Washington, 326 U.S. 310 (1945). Minimum contacts can arise from the party’s activities within Place A. The court in Place A, for example, has jurisdiction over the party from Place B if the party purposefully avails himself of the laws of Place A. World-Wide Volkswagen Corp. v. Woodson, 444 U.S. 286 (1980).

Similarly, a mobile gastronomic enterprise that temporarily enters our geographic region is located in our region for the purposes of our jurisdictional test if it purposefully avails itself of the resources of our region. By availing itself of the resources of our region, it establishes sufficient “minimum contacts” to be considered “situated” in our region, even if it is ordinarily based in another place. Concluding that the Cart has jurisdiction over such a mobile gastronomic enterprise is consistent with the notions of “fair play” and “substantial justice.” International Shoe, 326 U.S. at 316.

In the present case, MMC left New York and entered the Cart’s geographic jurisdiction for one day. While here, MMC purposefully availed itself of the resources of DC. It benefited from DC’s special rules allowing non-local food trucks to serve the District’s streets on Inauguration Day, and it enjoyed the advantages of being permitted by DC officials to serve its cakes at a prime spot along Pennsylvania Avenue. Since MMC purposefully availed itself of DC’s resources, it is fair to find that the NY-based MMC was located in DC for the purposes of the Cart’s jurisdictional test.

The first element of our jurisdictional test is satisfied. And since neither element two nor three is at issue, MMC meets all three elements of the test. Thus, this Cart holds that it has jurisdiction to review MMC, a NY-based food truck that temporarily entered DC and established sufficient minimum contacts with DC by purposefully availing itself of the resources of DC.

III. Mootness

Despite the finding that the Cart has jurisdiction over MMC, the case of MMC must be dismissed on mootness grounds. Under Article III of the U.S. Constitution, our judicial power extends only to actual cases and controversies. If a case does not present a live controversy, the case is moot and must be dismissed.

Here, the controversy is not live. MMC received a permit to serve its cakes in DC for one day, on January 21. Today, on January 30, MMC is no longer selling its cakes in DC, or anywhere else within our geographic jurisdiction. What’s more, MMC has not demonstrated an intention to return to sell its cakes. For example, if MMC made regular bi-monthly trips to serve its cakes in DC or Northern Virginia, or otherwise established a pattern of travelling here for events throughout the year, then the controversy might still be live. But as it is, MMC’s service in DC was one-time and is now over, so there is no controversy to settle.

Plus, it would be cruel to tell our readers all about a cupcake or cheesecake that they might never have the chance to try for themselves.

IV. Conclusion

For the reasons above, the case is

DISMISSED.

JEREMY, C.J., concurring.

I agree with my sister’s conclusions in the present case. I write separately only to register once more my discomfort with my sister’s wanton and reckless interpretation of the precedent of this Cart in In re Amtrak Café Car, 14 Catt. 1 (2012), upon which my sister relies in reaching her conclusions. When she says “we” found X in that case, she speaks only in the most royal sense of the pronoun. But my discussion of the matter is already set forth in my opinion concurring in the result of Amtrak.

Today, we grant cartiorari to review the combination of OoH DaT ChickeN’s (“ODC”) 1/4 dark meat, rice, and basil coleslaw.

OoH DaT ChickeN

I. “STREET FOOD”

We must first consider whether this combination constitutes “street food,” as we have defined that term. Under our jurisprudence, where a mobile gastronomic enterprise’s offering is found to be “street food,” there is a presumption that the offering should be affirmed absent convincing evidence to the contrary. See In re Big Cheese, 6 Catt. 2 (2012). We have defined street food to be “the kind[] of food[] that can be cooked in front of you and [is] meant to be eaten with your hands, without forks, while standing up.” See In re Eat Wonky, 2 Catt. 5 (2011).

In the present case, we are confronted by the combination of a bone-in chicken leg and thigh; long-grain rice; and seasoned, shredded cabbage. The jasmine rice and shredded cabbage are clearly meant to be eaten with forks. Therefore, they cannot properly be considered “street food.” But is this finding controlling as to the entire combination, where, as here, the principal part of the combination—the bone-in chicken—is arguably finger-food?

We have not affirmatively decided this question. In a line of cases, my sister has found that Indian food platters including easily-manipulated naan does not constitute true “street food.” See In re BD Heartily, 16 Catt. 2 (2013); Salt and Pepper Grill, 8 Catt. 2 (2012). However, in both cases, the principal component of the dish was not amenable to being eaten with one’s fingers. In my brief opinion in Kababji Food Truck, 15 Catt. 2 (2012), I summarily found that the combination of a sandwich, labneh, and baba ghannouj constituted “street food.” But in that case, both side dishes are intended to be eaten with pita, not with a fork.

In this case, I find that so long as the principal component of a food truck combination platter is reasonably considered “street food,” the presumption of affirmance should apply. After all, while we ultimately affirm ODC’s combination based, in part, on its rice and coleslaw, neither alone provided the grounds for granting cartiorari. Because we granted cartiorari to ODC for its chicken, not for its rice and coleslaw, their presence alongside the chicken should not shift the burden of proof in this case.

Accordingly, the burden is on this Cart to demonstrate that remand is warranted. We find we are unable to do so and therefore affirm.

1/4 Chicken (Dark Meat) Combo                               with Rice and Basil Coleslaw

II. CHICKEN

ODC laudably prepares its whole chickens on spits within the truck. The patron is then offered the choice of a quarter chicken (white or dark meat), half chicken, or whole chicken. As we had several cases to adjudicate on the day we heard oral argument, we opted for the quarter chicken. As the flavor of dark meat is stronger and more nuanced than that of white meat, we opted for the dark meat. For $8.00, the quarter dark meat chicken is accompanied by long-grain rice and the patron’s choice of side. These patrons opted for the basil coleslaw. The merits of the rice and coleslaw are discussed below.

The chicken was perfectly cooked—fully cooked yet fully moist. The skin of the chicken was spectacular. While not entirely crispy, it was seasoned beautifully. Having sampled the offerings of one El Pollo Rico, the Justices of this Cart have high standards when it comes to simply prepared chicken. See In re Tasty Kabob, 3 Catt. 4 (2011). However, in the present case, I would find those high standards to be met, whether applying or hypothetically withholding application of the presumption of affirmance noted above.

As a side note, ODC supplied a rather sweet, presumably fruit-flavored sauce for the chicken. We have consistently voiced our distrust of fruit-based sauces. See In re Pedro and Vinny’s, 9 Catt. 2 (2012); In re Doug the Food Dude, 5 Catt. 3 (2012); In re El Floridano, 2 Catt. 2 (2011). This case is no exception and, as expected, the sauce was not to our liking. Luckily, ODC’s chicken is more than sufficiently flavorful on its own and so no partial remand is warranted.

III. SIDES: RICE AND COLESLAW

The combination included long-grain rice. The rice was flavorful (perhaps containing bits of spinach or sorrel or some other leafy green) and well prepared. It included crispy bits, as in a paella or pilaf.

The coleslaw was “basil coleslaw” and appeared to be shredded cabbage tossed with pesto. It was fresh, refreshing, and paired nicely with the chicken.

V. CONCLUSION

For the reasons noted above, this case is

AFFIRMED.

CATTLEYA, J., concurring.

Though he be but longwinded, the Chief Justice is right. I write separately on the issue of the sauce, which the Chief Justice describes only as a “fruit-flavored sauce.” For readers who may like fruit-flavored sauces or who may want to know on which fruit the sauce was based, I offer a few more words (but just a few). It tasted to me like a sweet and sour mango sauce. Although it was not to my liking, I think I would have ignored any sauce that ODC served on the side. The chicken was so beautifully cooked that any condiment would have ruined it for me.

I granted cartiorari to BD Heartily, a food cart that sets up regularly in Rosslyn. BD Heartily is a two-in-one food cart, serving both Indian and Middle Eastern food. While its Indian dishes are pre-prepared, many of its Halal dishes are cooked to order. For a food cart with a lot of different dishes on the menu, it’s efficiently run by one person.

BD Heartily

On my visit I was looking for cheap but good Indian food, something to compete with the closest Indian lunch special in the area. Brick-and-mortar restaurant Delhi Dhaba offers a weekday special for two curries and rice for $6.95. For almost one dollar less at $5.99, BD Heartily offers two curries and either rice or naan. A promising start.

The choices of curries are: palak paneer, chicken curry, chana masala, lamb curry, and butter chicken. I chose palak paneer, which I can never resist, see In re Salt and Pepper Grill, 6 Catt. 1 (2012); In re Salt and Pepper Grill, 8 Catt. 2 (2012); In re fojol bros., 8 Catt. 3 (2012). For my second curry, I opted for lamb curry. Although the lunch special came with rice, I also threw in naan for an extra $1.50. How could I not have naan to sop up the curries?

Like other rice platters that have come before this court, BD Heartily’s lunch special is not true street food, i.e., “the kind[] of food[] that can be cooked in front of you and [is] meant to be eaten with your hands, without forks, while standing up.”  See In re Eat Wonky, 2 Catt. 5 (2011) (defining street food); Salt and Pepper Grill, 8 Catt. 3 (holding that an Indian food platter was not true street food). Consequently, BD Heartily is not entitled to the presumption that its food should be affirmed by this tribunal. See In re Big Cheese, 6 Catt. 2 (2012). For the reasons below, I affirm in part and remand in part for revision.

Lamb Curry, Palak Paneer, Rice & Naan

I walked away from BD Heartily with a heavy carton of food. More than enough for lunch, certainly. It was good, although not great. The palak paneer was creamy and still tasted like spinach, which I find is often not the case as more cream is added to this dish. To my disappointment, however, my serving had very few pieces of paneer. The chunks of lamb in the curry, fortunately, were plentiful. They were also tender and tasty. The curry was rich and tasted strongly of cinnamon, but I would have liked it to be spicier. The most surprising let-down was the naan, which was not naan at all. It was gyro pita bread. A consequence of the  dual menu, I suppose.

BD Heartily’s platter had some flaws (like the non-naan), but it was also a lot of food for the price. Which is to say that it filled me up, but it was shy of fully satisfying my craving for Indian food. Still, BD Heartily was a good, affordable find.

AFFIRMED in part and REMANDED in part to BD Heartily for revision. It is so ordered.

I granted cartiorari to Seoul Food’s winter special, Mushroom and Pork Donburi. Seoul Food’s dishes have been placed on the bench of this court on several occasions. The Steak Superbowl (a Korean-Mexican rice bowl) was made with high-quality ingredients but in the end the fusion mix was not my personal favorite. See In re Seoul Food (The Korean Superbowl Case), 3 Catt. 1 (2011). The Steak Bibimbap (a more traditional Korean dish) was executed to perfection and has fed the Justices of this court many times since that first lunch. See In re Seoul Food (The Beef Bibimbap Case), 3 Catt. 2 (2011). The Chief Justice was also very impressed with last winter’s seasonal soups. See In re Seoul Food (The Winter Soups Case), 5 Catt. 4 (2012). With this record, Seoul Food has shown itself to be a leader on Arlington’s food truck scene, so I had high expectations for its special menu item.

Seoul Food

Seoul Food’s Mushroom and Pork Donburi ($9) [1] is made with shitake, oyster, and crimini mushrooms. The pork is marinated in sake, red wine, and sweet soy. The meat-and-mushroom dish is completed with vegetables (carrots) and topped off with sesame seeds and green onions. To add heat, diced jalapeños are added upon request. (You should request.)

Because rice bowls are not “street food,” i.e., “the kind[] . . . that can be cooked in front of you and [is] meant to be eaten with your hands, without forks, while standing up,” In re Eat Wonky, 2 Catt. 5 (2011), Seoul Food’s donburi is not entitled to the presumption that it belongs on the street and should be affirmed by this court. See In re Big Cheese, 6 Catt. 2 (2012). But no matter, the dish stands up on its own, and I affirm.

Mushroom and Pork Donburi

The Mushroom and Pork Donburi was a satisfying lunch. It could have been a satisfying dinner too, since the serving size was so generous, but I didn’t have the strength to stop eating halfway through even though I was full. Here’s why: The pork was tender and full of flavor. The mushrooms were succulent and earthy. And there was just the right amount of heat – my nose got a little runny, as often happens with spicy food, but it was not spicy enough to blind my eyes with tears. Lastly, and most importantly in my opinion, the bed of white rice was sticky and chewy, just the way I like it. See In re AZNeats, 2 Catt. 3 (2011).

As I expected, Seoul Food’s Mushroom and Pork Donburi was tasty and well-executed. Another solid dish from a food truck that aims high and rarely disappoints.

AFFIRMED. It is so ordered.

[1] Seoul Food offers a small discount for customers who bring back a plastic food container for re-use.

No. 65. BD Heartily. Cartiorari granted on the questions of (1) palak paneer and (2) lamb curry.

No. 66. OoH DaT ChickeN.  Cartiorari granted on the question of 1/4 chicken (dark meat) combo with rice and coleslaw.

No. 67. Make My Cake. Cartiorari granted on the question of whether cake is within the jurisdiction of the Cart.

I granted cartiorari to La Tingeria, the maker of authentic Mexican fare, including tingas, sopes, and tacos. I’ll start with my conclusion in this case: La Tingeria has become one of my favorite food trucks. It might even be my favorite. Simple, delicious food that fills you up. No unnecessary frills or gourmet gimmicks. Affordable. No, more than affordable — it’s a downright steal. And — although I’m usually the type to want to try something new over going back for seconds of something I’ve already had — I want to go back to La Tingeria again and again. In fact, by the time you read this, I’ve already been back for more.

La Tingeria

The operation of La Tingeria isn’t perfect. On my first visit, the guys in the truck — who were very pleasant and friendly — seemed to be working out mix-ups with orders. But, as our regular reader should know by now, this tribunal is not the kind to give out one star to a restaurant that serves good food but makes you wait ten minutes for a glass of water. Food is king around here. (Hmm, wait, we don’t give out any stars. And we don’t review restaurants, not the brick-and-mortar variety anyway.) The point is, when the food is as good as La Tingeria’s, I’m more than happy to deal with some service bumps, especially ones as minor as these.

Before I can get to the food, I must pause for a moment to say that La Tingeria’s offering are true “street food” — i.e., “the kind[] . . . that can be cooked in front of you and [is] meant to be eaten with your hands, without forks, while standing up.” In re Eat Wonky, 2 Catt. 5 (2011); see also In re El Chilango, 12 Catt. 2 (2012) (finding that tacos, cousin to tingas, sopes, etc., are street food).  As true street food, according to our precedents, I must affirm La Tingeria’s offerings unless I prove that there is something seriously wrong with them. See In re Big Cheese, 6 Catt. 2 (2012).  I already tipped my hat on this point: there is not.

La Tingeria’s menu follows a pretty basic rule: you pick a meat, then you pick a vehicle to contain it. When I visited, the “vehicle” options were: tinga; sope; taco; and quesadilla. And the meats: braised beef brisket or shredded chicken for the tingas; and chorizo, beef, or chicken for everything else. Each item was $2.50. La Tingeria also served elotes locos for $2 each. At other times there have been flautas, tamales, and soup on the menu.

Beef Tinga, Chorizo Quesadilla & Elote Loco

Here’s what I’ve had (so far):

Beef Tinga. The tinga was basically an open-faced tostada: fried tortilla + beef brisket + lettuce + queso fresco. The beef brisket was marinated in a caramelized onion and chipotle sauce. It was the perfect mix of sweet and spicy. The spiciness was neither instant nor overwhelming. It slowly built in the back of my mouth. The cheese and chopped lettuce tempered down the heat and added some smoothness (the cheese) and a slight crunch (the lettuce). The tostada miraculously stood up to the weight of the saucy meat, lettuce, and cheese and didn’t get soggy. Even the very last bite was met with the sound of teeth breaking into deep-fried goodness.

Chorizo Quesadilla. The quesadilla was like none I had ever seen before in a Tex-Mex restaurant. It was more like a deep-fried taco (corn flour tortilla, of course) stuffed to the brink with mozzarella and chorizo, and then topped off with lettuce, tomato, and sour cream. The deep-fried casing was wonderfully doughy and crispy at the same time. And how could I not love the large chunks of greasy, flavorful ground chorizo? It was indulgence at its very best. My only complaint was that the cheese at the bottom didn’t intermingle with the meat and toppings above it, so sometimes I felt like I was eating a cheese quesadilla and sometimes a chorizo quesadilla.

Elote Loco. When I think of street food from now on, I will think of this: Steamed corn on the cob, smothered in a mayo sauce, topped off with crumbled Mexican cheese, chili powder, and a squish of lime, and then served on a skewer. The corn was sweet, the toppings were creamy and decadent. I knew that much mayo was bad for me, but I didn’t care.

Now, about portion sizes. I originally thought I’d need at least three items to make a meal. But La Tingeria’s dishes are the stick-to-your-ribs kind that keep you satisfied for hours and hours. One or two should suffice for lunch. And this is coming from a gal who once was told she ate enough for a football team.

And to answer the question in the reader’s mind, yes, La Tingeria’s eat-with-your-hands food makes for messy eating, but the devouring of good grub is worth it. Besides, that’s why we have napkins . . . and fellow Justices who aren’t afraid to tell you when you have something stuck in your teeth.

I conclude with a very important note. Soon after this opinion comes out, La Tingeria plans to stop serving sopes, quesadillas, and elotes loco. It will be unveiling a new menu — it’s keeping the tingas and tacos and adding tortas. Personally, I don’t think La Tingeria needed a menu change, but I look forward to trying whatever this sublime food truck has to offer.

I granted cartiorari to give consideration to Kababji Food Truck’s (“KFT”) spicy intabli sandwich, labneh, and baba ghannouj. KFT is a mobile gastronomic enterprise associated with Connecticut Avenue’s Kababji Grill that has been operating on the streets of this Cart’s jurisdiction since May.  At a glance, KBT does not appear terribly distinct from other kebab-themed trucks apart, perhaps, from slightly better graphics, a television mounted on its side, and a broader array of offerings. But, if nothing else, kebab makes for an excellent lunch and terrific “street food”—as defined by the precedent of this Cart—and, in the end, KBT did not disappoint.

I opted for the pita platter, which allows you to choose a sandwich from a list of seven along with two cold mezze from a list of six. I opted for the “spicy intabli sandwich,” with labneh and baba ghannouj as my sides of choice. For $9, you get a truly considerable amount of food, and so I would consider this a “good deal” in line with other good deals considered through the history of this venerable tribunal.

Spicy Intabli Sandwich with Labneh and Baba Ghannouj

In place of the spicy intabli sandwich, I could have opted for a number of staples—shish taouk, halabi, hummus, labneh, etc. But what drew me to the spicy intabli sandwich was the fact that I had no idea what an “intabli” was. The menu offered no explanation, which only further piqued my interest. It turns out an “intabli kabab” is ground beef “seasoned with house-blend spices, fresh peppers, chopped parsley and  mild pepper paste,” or so it is defined by Kababji Grill’s more intricate menu. I would not call the sandwich particularly “spicy” in the traditional sense—that is, it does not tend to burn any part of the digestive tract. It is “spicy” in this sense that it contains a bounty of spices—maybe cumin, maybe coriander, maybe sumac, who knows—that form a harmonious, pleasing, and gustatory whole.

The labneh is simple, as labneh should be. It is rich and creamy and a bit sour. It is delicious with pita.

The baba ghannouj was quite smoky but without tasting of motor oil. It tasted strongly of eggplant as opposed to filler. Most importantly, it tasted fresh.

KBT is by no means innovative. Instead, it takes classic Middle Eastern street food and, without trying to improve it or fuse it voguishly with some other far-flung cuisine, serves it quickly, freshly, sufficiently authentically, tastily, and affordably. For this reason, I would affirm.

AFFIRMED. It is so ordered.

On a bright and brisk afternoon, we granted cartiorari to Dangerously Delicious Pies (“DDP”), the mobile maker of sweet and savory pies. DDP has once before been reviewed by this court. On our first visit DDP’s blackberry pie didn’t satisfy, but we ordered it at the end of an all-day food truck festival and the Chief Justice surmised that our slice would have been less disappointing had we ordered it earlier in the day. He left open the question of “whether a lunchtime pie [would] provide[] a more pleasurable experience.” In re Dangerously Delicious Pies, 4 Catt. 4 (2011). Truth be told, I was less enthusiastic than he to return to DDP’s window. In the words of Pride and Prejudice’s Mr. Darcy, “[m]y good opinion once lost, is lost for ever.” But like Jane Austen’s hero, I recognize this is a folly in my character, and so I put my past feelings aside and returned to DDP for chicken pot pie.

Dangerously Delicious Pies

 I. STREET FOOD

Before reaching the merits of the pie, first I address whether chicken pot pie is “street food.” Pie fails our Eat Wonky test for street food. Dangerously Delicious Pies, 4 Catt. 4 (concluding that pie is not street food); In re Eat Wonky, 2 Catt. 5 (2011) (defining street food as “the kind[] . . . that can be cooked in front of you and [is] meant to be eaten with your hands, without forks, while standing up”). Because pie is not street food, there is no presumption of affirmance in this case, and DDP’s chicken pot pie must stand up on its own merits. See In re Big Cheese, 6 Catt. 2 (2012).

II. CHICKEN POT PIE ($7.50)

I hate to admit when the Chief Justice is right, but right he was to want to give DDP another try. DDP’s chicken pot pie was indeed a pleasurable experience, one with several surprises along the way. The first surprise was that it was actually a pie, with a top and bottom crust. This was no “cheat” pie made with a meager square of puff pastry on top. The second surprise was that the pie was stuffed (I mean, stuffed) with filling. I even blinked twice to make sure that I was seeing what I was seeing. Oh, I thought, a chicken pot pie that doesn’t require me to go fishing in a lake of thick cream sauce for a few chunks of chicken and a handful of once-frozen peas and carrots! Finally, a pie of substance! My hopes were high. But would it taste as good as it looked? Gasp! It did.

Chicken Pot Pie with Side Salad

DDP’s chicken pot pie was made with “roasted chicken, potatoes, carrots, peas, corn, cream, and herbs.” The filling was delicious. The chicken was juicy and well-seasoned. It tasted of rosemary and sage. (I’m not sure whether there was marjoram too, but there should have been. Marjoram, most unfortunately, is an underused herb.) The potatoes were hearty, the corn was sweet, the peas and carrots were comforting. It was exactly what I needed on a chilly day.

Now about that pie crust. It wasn’t as buttery and flaky as I expected from a pie that was once featured on “Paula’s Best Dishes” (as in the Food Network’s Paula Deen), but it was good. It held up against the thick filling and didn’t sog. And unlike our first experience, the crust tasted fresh, not old and stale. Bottom line: The crust did its job well as a supporting player; it let the filling be the star.

As a final note, DDP’s served its chicken pot pie with a side salad (as it does for all of its savory pies). The salad consisted of mixed field greens with a balsamic vinaigrette dressing. I would call the salad deceptively simple. The dressing was sweet and rich and better than your average balsamic vinaigrette. I enjoyed it almost as much as the pie.

III. CONCLUSION

Sometimes first impressions are wrong. I ordered and ate DDP’s chicken pot pie without regret. Darn fine pie. Even without the presumption of affirmance for true street food, the case is

AFFIRMED.

JEREMY, C.J., concurring.

This is perhaps my sister’s most cogent decision for it is in this decision she admits I am right. Indeed, I am generally right when it comes to matters of pie. I would add only that savory, like marjoram, is, “most unfortunately,” an “underused herb.”

No. 62. Kababji Food Truck. Cartiorari granted on the questions of (1) spicy intabli sandwich, (2) labneh, and (3) baba ghannouj.

No. 63. La Tingeria. Cartiorari granted on the questions of (1) beef tinga, (2) chorizo quesadilla, and (3) elote loco.

Emboldened by the Chief Justice’s recent grant of cartiorari to an imaginary duck truck so plainly outside existence and this Cart’s jurisdiction, see In re Imaginary Duck Truck, 1 Jer. 2 (2012), I granted cartiorari to Döner Bistro, a brick and mortar restaurant in Adams Morgan. Today, the writ of cartiorari is dismissed as improvidently granted. I am not–and never can be–as crazy as the Chief Justice. Nor can I undermine the legitimacy of this fine tribunal, as I believe the Chief Justice has done. Although such a dismissal is customarily made without further explanation, I feel that one is necessary in this case.

I. Döner Bistro

During the autumn season, I had the pleasure of dining at Döner Bistro. Döner Bistro is now a brick and mortar, but it got its start by selling döner kebab from a van. Sitting at a long picnic table at its Adams Morgan location, I devoured two meals: first a döner and then a plate of currywurst. My law clerk, who is of German descent, has long been bemoaning the absence of döner and currywurst from the mobile food scene. They are, he says, the truest of street foods.

Döner Kebab

In Germany, thousands of food stands sell döner. Döner came to Germany by way of a Turkish immigrant who adapted a traditional meat-and-rice platter for German taste buds. The result was a toasted flatbread stuffed with spit-roasted meat, cabbage salad, tomatoes, cucumbers, onions, and yogurt sauce. And now döner frequently appears on various “world’s best street food” lists.

Currywurst

Germany’s currywurst is also a frequent mention on “world’s best street food” lists. See here and here. Currywurst is a sausage topped with ketchup and curry powder and served with either pommes (fries) or brötchen (bread roll). My youthful clerk tells me that currywurst can be very satisfying after an evening partaking of drink and dance; in his words, it is good “drunk food.” 

II. Street Food

Döner Bistro’s offerings—döner and currywurst—are considered street food around the world. But what does this status as street food mean to this Supreme Cart? I take this opportunity to clarify our court’s treatment of street food.

This Cart has defined “street food” as “the kind[] of food[] that can be cooked in front of you and [is] meant to be eaten with your hands, without forks, while standing up.” In re Eat Wonky, 2 Catt. 5 (2011). In other words, street food is (1) cooked or capable of being cooked in front of the customer, i.e., aboard the mobile gastronomic enterprise; (2) meant to be eaten with one’s hands, i.e., without forks or other cutlery; and (3) eaten or is capable of being eaten while standing up. In re Big Cheese, 6 Catt. 2 (2012). However, this test is “not intended to affirmatively define the entire class of ‘street food.’” In re Hot People Food, 6 Catt. 4 (2012). In fact, we recognize as street food those dishes that are traditionally seen as street food, whether or not they meet our three factors. For example, the half-smoke and crêpe, In re Street Vendor Near National Mall, 9 Catt. 5 (2012); In re Choupi, 12 Catt. 3 (2012), and now döner and currywurst.

If the analysis shows that a dish is street food, then what? If a dish constitutes street food, then we must affirm the dish unless we can prove that the dish is significantly flawed. If a dish is not street food, then there is no presumption in favor of the dish and the mobile gastronomic enterprise must prove that the dish belongs on the street. See Big Cheese, 6 Catt. 2.

Our Eat Wonky “street food” test, therefore, merely establishes where the burden of proof lies in a case. It is applied only after it is determined that a mobile gastronomic enterprise is within the Cart’s jurisdiction. The street food test has no effect on whether a mobile gastronomic enterprise is within our jurisdiction. Thus, even though Döner Bistro purveys food recognized as “street” by this court, that fact does not confer jurisdiction on the court.

III. Jurisdiction

To be reviewed by this court, Döner Bistro must be within our jurisdiction. Under the Judiciary Act of 2011 (Cartiorari Act), the Supreme Cart has “exclusive jurisdiction of all food carts, trucks, and other transitory alimentary establishments within those portions of the District of Columbia or the part thereof retroceded to the Commonwealth of Virginia by Act of [the] Congress assembled in the year of our Lord 1847.” From this, our Rule of Procedure 1-2 provides that our jurisdiction “extend[s] to all mobile gastronomic enterprises situated throughout those parts of (a) the County of Arlington, Virginia, (b) the District of Columbia, and (c) the City of Alexandria, Virginia, which are reasonably proximate to public transportation of a reasonably rapid and efficient character.”

So, to be within our jurisdiction, three elements must be met. First, the establishment under consideration must be a “mobile gastronomic enterprise[].” Second, it must be located in Arlington, Alexandria, or the District of Columbia. Third, it must be reasonably proximate to public transportation. See In re China Garden, 5 Catt. 1 (2012).

Döner Bistro fails to meet the first element; it is not a mobile gastronomic enterprise. Döner Bistro is strikingly similar to the establishment that we were met with in In re Pupatella, 8 Catt. 4 (2012). Like Pupatella, Döner Bistro once operated as a mobile food vendor. Pupatella was a food cart before it became a brick and mortar, and Döner Bistro was a food van. In Pupatella, we unequivocally held that “[t]his Cart does not have jurisdiction over a brick-and-mortar restaurant that once operated as a food cart.” That ruling applies here. That Döner Bistro operated as a van instead of a cart is a distinction without a difference.

Because Döner Bistro is not currently a mobile gastronomic enterprise, it is outside the Cart’s jurisdiction and we may not review its offerings of döner and currywurst.

IV. Conclusion

The grant of cartiorari was improvidently granted on the issue of whether the Cart has jurisdiction over a brick and mortar restaurant that previously operated as a mobile food vendor. This issue has been previously brought to the court and a ruling was issued. The answer is no.

(By the way, Chief Justice, how do you like that show of “respect for the nobility of stare decisis”? See In re Amtrak Café Car, 14 Catt. 1 (2012).)

DISMISSED.

JEREMY, C.J., dissenting.

By the sharp point of my sister’s quill, I am called “crazy” and said to have “undermine[d] the legitimacy of this fine tribunal.” But certainly I am no crazier than one who would slam shut the gilded doors of justice, nor do I undermine the legitimacy of this fine tribunal nearly so much as she who would rely on cramped and self-serving interpretations of foundational texts.

My sister correctly states our jurisdictional test, but there ends our agreement on the matter at hand. She would find, as she did in Pupatella, that a mobile gastronomic enterprise necessarily loses its mobility when it ceases operation of its truck and finds refuge in the locational certainty of brick-and-mortardom. But, for those reasons already noted in my dissent in Pupatella, I would find this not to be the case. I would set aside Pupatella and proceed to judge Döner Bistro on the merits of its gastronomy.

However, even where I to agree with, or at least concede to, my sister’s flawed logic in Pupatella, I would part ways in the present case. In Pupatella, this Cart held that it lacked jurisdiction “over a brick-and-mortar restaurant that once operated as a food cart.” In re Pupatella, 8 Catt. 4 (2012) (emphasis added). My sister would hold here that that ruling must apply also to food vans, that “operat[ion] as a van instead of a cart is a distinction without a difference.” But that assumes too much. That much should be clear to any person with a head on her body.

And yet I am the “crazy” one.

(Finally, my sister, you ask how I like your “show of ‘respect for the nobility of stare decision,’” quoting my own sound words from Amtrak Café Car. You will note that I also wrote that “sometimes” it is “more important that the law be established than that it satisfy every neuron of your intellect.” I continued, writing that only where there is no “compelling reason” to abandon precedent has a judge “undermine[d] democracy and the general welfare.” In this case, as I have explained, there is every “compelling reason” to abandon the wholly unreasonable precedent of Pupatella. It pains me to think how very many cases can find no tribunal due to the base wantonness of your activism. Have I answered your question?)

Opinion of JEREMY, C.J., in chambers.

When the cat’s away, the mice will play. Today, with Catt away for the holiday, I shall gladly play mouse.

After a long night alone in my wood-paneled chambers, where I sat reading long hours from dusty and yellowed tomes by the greenish light of a banker’s lamp before dozing off, I awoke to find that Thanksgiving had arrived. It being Thanksgiving, I naturally harbored a certain yen for that particular bird we celebrate on this joyous day: the duck. And so I set out from my chambers to find some duck.

I found the streets and the avenues of the District lonely and desolate and deserted. Stoplights blinked on and off with no car in sight. Shops and restaurants were shuttered. There was not a food truck to be found amid the streets and the avenues—not even a duck truck. See In re PORC, 4 Catt. 1 (2011); Metro Halal Food v. Tasty Kabob, 1 Catt. 2 (2011) (Jeremy, C.J., concurring).

And so I plodded silently back to my chambers along sad and lonely streets, my long, black judicial robes brushing fallen leaves. I collapsed into my mustard-colored, velveteen chair—the one with the brass tacks—and lit a cigar. I sat puffing away, legs crossed, pondering in the gloom and the silence, when a notion hit me on the head like a glossy Braeburn apple. I knew where I could find my Thanksgiving duck truck. I knew of a place where such a mobile gastronomic enterprise would be parked curbside: in my dreams and my imagination.

I stamped out my cigar and ran out of my chambers and into the street, my long, black judicial robes flowing behind me like the wings of a bat. I gasped. There, in front of me, was the duck truck of my dreams gleaming in the mid-autumn sun like a fresh-picked lemon. The truck was covered with emeralds and rubies and lapis lazuli. Its mirrors were of silver; its wheels were of gold. A chandelier hung within. I ran to the truck and ordered a pan-seared duck breast in a gauzy, crimson reduction of red wine and orange. In exchange for two twenties, it came to me on bone china with a toile print and gilded edges. A cloth napkin was handed to me along with a fork and knife of purest gold. I sat on the curb, napkin tucked in the collar of my judicial robes, and slowly and deliberately devoured my duck magret. I washed it down with a champagne of exquisite vintage sipped from a hand-blown flute.

There is likely to be some question as to whether this Cart has jurisdiction over a Cart found only in the imagination of one of its justices. Under our Rules of Procedure, our jurisdiction extends to “all mobile gastronomic enterprises situated throughout those parts of (a) the County of Arlington, Virginia, (b) the District of Columbia, and (c) the City of Alexandria, Virginia, which are reasonably proximate to public transportation of a reasonably rapid and efficient character.” That test in no ways speaks of physicality. It so happens I have imagined a mobile gastronomic enterprise in the District of Columbia reasonably proximate to public transportation. The test is satisfied, and so the Cart must be found to have jurisdiction over a Cart found only in the imagination of one of its justices. If that is not enough, the potentiality of such an establishment within the bounds of our jurisdiction should satisfy even my sharpest critic.

Before describing the beauty of the duck, I realize I must pause and determine whether my Thanksgiving feast constituted “street food.” We have defined “street food” time and time again, and our definition bears no repetition here. We have also made clear that that definition is a balancing test. I have conducted the requisite balancing and find the subject of consideration to be “street food.”

The duck was succulent. Its center was a beautiful shade of ruddy pink. Its layer of fat, crisscrossed with the knife marks of a deft hand, had rendered itself to a crisp veneer of char and seasoning. The duck was carved on the bias into quarter-inch slices and placed atop a painted stroke of reduced red wine. A layer of the sauce was poured atop the slices of duck, enough to taste the sauce, but never so much as to detract from the meat itself. What else can I say? The duck was all I had hoped for. It was perfect. My duck truck was a marvelous idea, if I may be so bold as to say so myself.

I picked myself up from the curb, brushed the fallen leaves from my long, black judicial robes, and returned the bone china plate and the golden utensils to their purveyor. I began to walk back up the walk to my chambers. Halfway to the door, I realized the cloth napkin hung still from my neck. I pulled the napkin from my collar and turned around to return to the truck and return the napkin. But I saw that my duck truck had dissipated into the mid-autumn air like a happy phantom.

I stood there for a moment, staring, pondering, before awaking in my chair of mustard velveteen—the one with the brass tacks. Perhaps I had dreamed. But, oh, what a dream!

AFFIRMED. It is so ordered.

Today we take up the question of  “The General” at Hometown Heros [sic] (HH). The General is described by the mobile gastronomic enterprise as “[t]hinly sliced steak, sautéed onions, peppers (green and banana), and provolone cheese, piled high on a sub roll, [lettuce], [tomato], [onion].” Because it is a sub, it is undoubtedly deserving of a presumption of affirmance in the absence of countervailing circumstances. See In re Wassub, 13 Catt. 1 (2012). The General is a monstrosity of a sandwich, and so, at $8.00, it is a very good deal, easily large enough to feed a herd of hungry Philadelphians. But that a dish offers both a good deal monetarily and a great deal gastronomically does not alone suffice to save what is, generally, an underwhelming sandwich. I must find the presumption of affirmance overcome in this case. For the reasons discussed below, I remand the case to HH for revision.

The General

First, equity demands that I acknowledge that I am not ordinarily the biggest fan of the cheesesteak. However, I feel I have previously demonstrated my ability to fairly consider, and even affirm, a cheesesteak-like offering. See Wassub, 13 Catt. 1. Accordingly, it is unnecessary to consider recusal.

The General presents as a sub roll piled high with a mountain of thinly sliced steak. The steak itself is not bad, per se, but is woefully under-seasoned. It is appropriately cooked, but it has no flavor profile whatsoever. That need not be the case. Beneath the mountain of steak was a layer of sautéed onions and green peppers drowning in a coating of black pepper that should have coated the meat as well. The two layers clearly never met on the griddle. The vegetables had no taste of meat; the meat had no taste of onion or pepper. Atop the mountain of meat was a snowcap of lukewarm, congealed cheese. I am told it was provolone, though the lump tasted only of congeal and processing. The bread was just fine.

One of my clerks prods me to note that the truck’s owner was a very nice and pleasant man. I agree with my clerk: he was indeed a model of amicable congeniality. And so I will end on that positive note.

REMANDED to Hometown Heros for revision. It is so ordered.

• “DC Food Truck Owners Fear Proposed Rules Could Send Them Fleeing,” November 9, 2012.
• “Regs Would Limit Food Trucks in Downtown DC,” November 8, 2012.

Amtrak Northeast Regional trains run between Boston, Massachusetts and Newport News, Virginia. The Northeast Regional passes through cities like New York, Philadelphia, and DC. On the Northeast Regional is a Café Car which sells food items like baked goods, sandwiches, salads, and pizza. The question before us is whether the Café Car is within the Cart’s jurisdiction and may be reviewed.

Amtrak Northeast Regional

I. Jurisdictional test

The Judiciary Act of 2011 (Cartiorari Act) states that “the Supreme Cart shall have exclusive jurisdiction of all food carts, trucks, and other transitory alimentary establishments within those portions of the District of Columbia or the part thereof retroceded to the Commonwealth of Virginia.” Our Rule of Procedure 1-2 provides that “[t]he jurisdiction of the Cart shall extend to all mobile gastronomic enterprises situated throughout those parts of (a) the County of Arlington, Virginia, (b) the District of Columbia, and (c) the City of Alexandria, Virginia, which are reasonably proximate to public transportation of a reasonably rapid and efficient character.”

Our jurisdictional test contains three elements. First, the establishment under consideration must be located in DC, Arlington, or Alexandria. Second, it must be a mobile gastronomic enterprise. Third, it must be reasonably proximate to public transportation of a reasonably rapid and efficient character.

I consider the first and second elements below. Because the Café Car fails both elements, I decline to address the third element for the sake of judicial economy.

II. Located in DC, Arlington, or Alexandria

To be within the Cart’s jurisdiction, the Northeast Regional Café Car must be located in DC, Arlington, or Alexandria. Although the Café Car passes through DC, it leaves and travels to other cities. It goes to Newport News, Baltimore, Philadelphia, New York, New Haven, Boston, and other cities in the Northeast. Based on my understanding of the world map, Newport News, Baltimore, Philadelphia, New York, New Haven, and Boston are not in DC, Arlington, or Alexandria. Because the Café Car leaves the Cart’s geographic jurisdiction, the Café Car is not in our jurisdiction.

The Chief Justice’s understanding of the world map is very different. His understanding is that all cities around the world are in DC, Arlington, or Alexandria. He claims that because the “tectonic plates are in constant flux,” every city “has occupied or will someday occupy a place in the Universe which was once or will someday be somewhere within the combined boundaries of Arlington, Alexandria, and the District of Columbia.” In re Brennan’s, 1 Jer. 1 (2012) (a self-published opinion by the Chief Justice that is not recognized by the Supreme Cart). The Chief Justice makes a mockery of our law by ignoring its plain meaning. Newport News, Baltimore, Philadelphia, New York, New Haven, and Boston are not—and never will be—in DC, Arlington, or Alexandria. But, assuming arguendo, that the Chief Justice’s loony reasoning is correct and the Café Car were in the Cart’s geographic jurisdiction, the Café Car still would not be within our jurisdiction because it is not a mobile gastronomic enterprise.

III. Mobile gastronomic enterprise

Cafe Car Menu

We first interpreted the phrase “mobile gastronomic enterprise” in In re China Garden, 5 Catt. 1 (2012). We denied jurisdiction to a dim sum cart within a Chinese restaurant because the enterprise itself had to be mobile, not just its gastronomy. Because the dim sum was mobile and the restaurant was not, we did not have jurisdiction over China Garden.

We again took up the phrase in In re Maine Avenue Fish Market, 11 Catt. 3 (2012). Here, the barges along the pier of a fish market were not within our jurisdiction. Even though the barges were capable of moving, they were permanently affixed to the pier and so the enterprises (i.e., the barges) were effectively “immobile.”

In summary, we know from our case law that the enterprise, not the gastronomy, must be mobile. We also know that the enterprise must actually be mobile, and not just capable of being mobile. The question then is, is the Café Car a mobile gastronomic enterprise?

In the present case, both the enterprise (i.e., Amtrak) and the gastronomy (i.e., the Café Car offerings) are mobile. Furthermore, Amtrak’s Northeast Regional is not merely capable of moving; it actually moves. The Café Car meets the requirements of “mobile” as set forth by China Garden and Maine Avenue Fish Market. However, the Café Car is not a mobile gastronomic enterprise.

All of the food trucks and carts that the Cart has thus far adjudicated brought food to the customer. The food trucks and carts traveled to customers at Metro Center, drove over to customers at GWU, went to see customers at Rosslyn, and so on. After having the food brought to them, the customers parted ways with the food trucks and carts. The customers never moved with the food trucks and carts. Thus, “mobile” in “mobile gastronomic enterprise” must mean that the gastronomy comes to the customer, not that the customer travels with the enterprise.

Applying this aspect of “mobile” to the present case, it is clear that the Café Car is not mobile. The Café Car is not rendered “mobile” just because it moves with food and customers on board. The Café Car must bring gastronomy to the customer. However, the Café Car does not do this. It does not bring its food to customers at Metro Center, Farragut Square, Union Station, Franklin Park, Navy Yard, L’Enfant, Cap South, GWU, Rosslyn, Courthouse, Ballston, Crystal City, or another location. Quite the opposite, customers must bring themselves to Union Station, to Amtrak’s gates, and to the Café Car.

IV. Conclusion

Because the Café Car does not bring food to the customer, it is not a mobile gastronomic enterprise and is outside this Cart’s jurisdiction.

DISMISSED.

JEREMY, C.J., concurring in the result.

I agree with my sister that the Northeast Regional Café Car is not within our jurisdiction though I depart severely from her characteristically unsound reasoning.

My sister correctly represents that our jurisdictional test contains three elements. First, the establishment under consideration must be located in the District of Columbia, or in the Urban County of Arlington or the Independent City of Alexandria in the Commonwealth of Virginia. Second, it must be a “mobile gastronomic enterprise.” Third, it must be reasonably proximate to public transportation of a reasonably rapid and efficient character. My sister finds that the Café Car fails to satisfy both the first and second elements of this test and, in so finding, refuses to reach the third element.

I, like my sister, would also find that the Café Car fails to satisfy the second element of our jurisdictional test, though on different grounds. In so finding, I, like my sister, need not reach the third element. But, given my sister’s unsound and unsupported interpretation of the first element, I find I must first address that element. In that regard, I need simply say that my cogent and well-reasoned decision in Brennan’s, 1 Jer. 1 (2012), should clearly establish, at the very least, that the Café Car falls within the geographical jurisdiction of this Cart.

Let me now register how I am disturbed at my sister’s apparent willingness to cast aside such recent precedent, but I cannot say I am surprised at her lack of respect for the nobility of stare decisis. Sometimes, my sister, it is more important that the law be established than that it satisfy every neuron of your intellect. A court that does not abide its precedent in the absence of any compelling reason to abandon such precedent can serve no other purpose than to undermine democracy and the general welfare. It is shameful, and it is wrong, but, in order to better preserve the People’s confidence in the machinations of this Supreme Cart, I will put our bickering aside and, for a time, agree to abide by my sister’s curbed and frankly nonsensical interpretation of our geographic element. I advise those who now find themselves outside the bounds of any court of law to promptly seek redress from the Congress.

As for the second element—that is, whether the Café Car is a “mobile gastronomic enterprise”—my sister would find that it is not met because the Café Car cannot properly be considered “mobile.” My sister cites to China Garden and Maine Avenue Fish Market for the proposition that the enterprise under consideration must itself be mobile to be considered “mobile.”[1] This precedent should answer the question of whether the Café Car is mobile. As my sister states, the Café Car “goes to Newport News, Baltimore, Philadelphia, New York, New Haven, Boston, and other cities in the Northeast.” I would ask my sister how an immobile establishment could easily visit these places in a mere matter of hours. Her decision does not adequately answer this question.

Instead, my sister would find that “ ‘mobile’ . . . must mean that the gastronomy comes to the customer, not that the customer travels with the enterprise.” There is no need to mince words; this is a silly and characteristically sloppy interpretation. We have said that the enterprise must be “mobile,” never that the customer must be immobile. Would not my sister’s interpretation bar our review of a dinner cruise on the Potomac? That is a sad state of affairs indeed. It is no secret I had long looked forward to a moonlight cruise.

I would find instead that the Café Car, while “mobile” and while an “enterprise,” is not “gastronomic.” Merriam-Webster defines “gastronomy” as “the art or science of good eating.” The offerings of the Café Car can hardly be termed “good eating.” It certainly strains credulity to attribute any “art” or “science” to their wares. In my experience, Café Car meals and snacks function less as sustenance and more as emetic.

This should not, however, be taken to require that we prejudge the quality of a mobile gastronomic enterprise’s in order to determine whether it is properly “gastronomic.” I would require only some modicum of “art” or “science,” or at least some minimal pretension to “good eating,” in order for a mobile enterprise to be considered “gastronomic.” This is not unlike the originality test of the law of copyright. Cf. Feist Pubs., Inc. v. Rural Tele. Serv. Co., 499 U.S. 340 (1991).

Because the Café Car does not provide that mere modicum of “art” or “science,” or make any honest pretension to “good eating,” it cannot be considered “gastronomic” and is therefore without the bounds of the jurisdiction of this Supreme Cart. I would therefore concur in the result, if not the reasoning, of my sister set forth above.

I will note in conclusion that this decision does not answer whether the more formal dining cars of long distance trains—e.g., the Palmetto, the Cardinal, and the Silver Star—would fall within our jurisdiction. I would leave that question for another day. We hold only that the Northeast Regional Café Car is not within the jurisdiction of this Supreme Cart.

[1] I will note that I dissented in both cases.

No. 59. Hometown Heros. Cartiorari granted on the question of The General.

No. 60. Döner Bistro. Cartiorari granted on the questions of whether (1) beef döner and (2) currywurst with pommes are within the jurisdiction of the Cart.

We granted cartiorari to Langston Grille on Wheels (“LGW”), the mobile component of Washington, DC restaurant Langston Bar & Grille. LGW’s kitchen cooks up soul food. On this day, the Chief Justice and I needed some real comfort food to soothe the tension that had been brewing in our court. Ever since he took advantage of my absence to hear the case of In re Brennan’s, 1 Jer. 1 (2012), relating to a New Orleans brick-and-mortar restaurant that is plainly outside this court’s jurisdiction, communications between us have been cold indeed. I even began to suspect that the Chief Justice, who bears a close resemblance to the very late Supreme Court Justice William Cushing (1732-1810), had lost his mind, just as Justice Cushing had. See David J. Garrow, Mental Decrepitude on the U.S. Supreme Court: The Historical Case for a 28th Amendment, 67 U. CHI. L. REV. 995 (2000). But my duties to the court, to mobile gastronomy, and to the reader weighed heavily on me, and so, without any hard evidence of the Chief Justice’s mental incapacity, I managed to stand side-by-side with him in front of LGW’s window.

Langston Grille on Wheels

LGW’s menu consists of several meat options (brisket, pulled pork, oxtail, roast chicken, jerk wings, shrimp, and fried fish), a few side dishes (macaroni & cheese, collard greens, dirty rice), and some desserts (sweet potato pie, sweet potato cheesecake, peach cobbler). The exact menu changes daily, and LGW announces the day’s line-up on Twitter every morning.

Luckily, on the day of our visit, LGW had oxtail on the menu. The Chief Justice and I disagree about many things, but one thing that we always agree on is the consumption of food that is hard to come by, such as oxtail from a food truck. We paired our oxtail with a side of macaroni and cheese and topped off our order with sweet potato pie. LGW prices one meat plus one side at $10. Desserts are $3.

I. STREET FOOD

Our regular reader knows that first we must decide whether our order (oxtail, macaroni and cheese, sweet potato pie) is true street food. If yes, then we presume that LGW’s food should be affirmed. See In re Big Cheese, 6 Catt. 2 (2012). This court has defined street food as “the kind[] of food[] that can be cooked in front of you and [is] meant to be eaten with your hands, without forks, while standing up.”  In re Eat Wonky, 2 Catt. 5 (2011). Oxtail, macaroni and cheese, and sweet potato pie are not cooked in front of you, are not meant to be eaten with your hands while standing up, and are not street food. Our case law supports this conclusion. In re Hot People Food, 7 Catt. 2 (2012) (meat not served in hand-held bread container was not street food); In re Basil Thyme, 8 Catt. 1 (2012) (pasta was not street food); In re Dangerously Delicious Pies, 4 Catt. 4 (2011) (pie was not street food). LGW’s food is not entitled to the presumption of affirmance. However, its food proved itself on its own merits, and we affirm.

II. LANGSTON GRILLE ON WHEELS

As the Chief Justice and I stood in line, we got the impression that LGW attracted many regulars. We heard many greetings by first name and just as many “See you next Thursday” farewells. With that many regulars, we began to hope that we had stumbled on a good food truck find.

Oxtail, macaroni & cheese, and sweet potato pie

We opened up our Styrofoam container and were at once struck by the big serving of oxtail. We didn’t know exactly what we were getting since the menu simply said “ox-tail,” but as oxtail is usually slow-cooked or braised, we expected something like that. And that’s what we got: braised meat that was fork-tender and fell off the bone, all swimming in a flavor-packed beef broth with carrots. We cleaned off the bones, licked our fingers, and then stared longingly at the broth remaining in the container. Oh, how we wished we could magically pull out bread from our pockets to sop up the delicious broth!

On a side note, it was refreshing to see that LGW didn’t clutter its menu items with over-detailed descriptions of every step of the food preparation. You know, like “breast of chicken massaged with the finest olive oil, spiced with thyme, marjoram, rosemary, and black pepper, and then grilled over smokey wood chips.” LGW left it at “ox-tail.” It was enough information for us.

Next, we turned our forks to the macaroni and cheese. Our regular reader knows by now how much I love the orange foodstuff. The court’s first meeting with macaroni and cheese had sour results despite a very appetizing-looking mac. See In re CapMac, 1 Catt. 1 (2011). I will admit that at first glance LGW’s version did not look like much. The noodles didn’t carry a deeply orange hue, and there weren’t many visible strings of cheese hanging off the noodles. But we’re often told that looks can be deceiving, and in this case it was. I liked LGW’s macaroni and cheese. The noodles were al dente, and the cheese flavor came through just enough. It wasn’t mushy Velveeta soup like the macaroni and cheeses found at Boston Market and KFC, and it wasn’t unnecessarily drenched in seven different kinds of cheese like Delilah’s. People who prefer gooey macaroni and cheese would probably call this tasteless, but to me it was simple in the way that is satisfying.

A serving of sweet potato pie completed our meal. Given the Chief Justice’s love of pie, he could wax more eloquently about the smoothness of the sweet potato and the harmonious blend of nutmeg, cinnamon, and vanilla. I will just say that LGW knows how to bake a sweet potato pie. I did wish that we had a slice of pie instead of a mini pie round, but that’s about form, not substance.

III. CONCLUSION

LGW was a pleasant surprise. The braised oxtail was tender and tasty. The not-too-cheesy-or-mushy macaroni and cheese was enjoyable. The sweet potato pie disappeared quickly. And best of all, by the time we finished our lunch of soul and comfort, the Chief Justice and I were congenial colleagues once again.

AFFIRMED.

JEREMY, C.J., concurring.

What a cruel and vile thing to insinuate that I am or have been mentally incapacitated. My only mental decrepitude is a deep and honest devotion to the majesty of the Law. I would have thought that a shared and delicious stewed oxtail would have thawed my sister’s cold and activist and rebellious heart. But I see that I was mistaken. Foolish me. “[C]ongenial colleagues once again” my foot. You will not catch the two of us at the opera together any time soon.

But that is to delve too deeply into the politics of this body. When struck, I am wont to strike back. I must work on that.

And so onto the case at hand, upon which my sister and I do agree. I have no point of dissent.

However, my sister writes that, given my love of pie, it is I who should “wax . . . eloquently about the smoothness of the sweet potato and the harmonious blend of nutmeg, cinnamon, and vanilla.” As she was absent the day it was upon us to decide In re Brennan’s, my sister once more abdicates her judicial responsibilities. But yes, o sister, the sweet potato was smooth, and yes, o sister, the blend of flavorings was harmonious. I, like you, would affirm.

I. INTRODUCTION

Gather ‘round, children, and the Chief Justice will tell you a story. Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, there lived two little pigs, Puerquito and Cochinito.

Puerquito was a black Iberian pig. Puerquito lived in a glade of the forest in the hills above Jabugo. While a wee piglet, Puerquito was fed barley and maize. After a time, Puerquito was allowed to roam among the oak trees and feast only on the sweet and delicious acorns that lay scattered among their ancient and gnarled roots. He imagined always he was destined for great and wondrous things.

Cochinito was of a Landrace breed of white pig. Cochinito lived on a larger farm near Treveléz. While Cochinito never knew the taste of the sweet and delicious acorns of the hills above Jabugo, Cochinito was nonetheless a contented pig, one destined always for great and wondrous things.

Little Puerquito and little Cochinito had big dreams of one day going to America, to find their ways in the land of opportunity. Little Puerquito saw himself a magnate of industry, with a sleek office high in the clouds. Little Cochinito saw himself in pictures.

Time went by, and little Puerquito and little Cochinito grew fatter and fatter until they were no longer so very little. Then along came a day so rainy and misty and cold that even the big dreams of little piggies grew obscured. Puerquito sat in the glade of the forest nibbling on acorns. Cochinito napped in his stall, a trough of feed at his side. But along came a mean old man who struck down Cochinito as he rested. Some distance away, Puerquito, too, met his demise, leaving behind amid the ancient and gnarled roots of the oak trees a single, half-eaten acorn of especial sweetness.

Puerquito and Cochinito were covered with salt and left to cure for a time. After several months, they were rinsed and left to dry for several more. Then, one day, they were placed in cartons marked with stickers that bore the word “America,” and though their eyes had long since grown glassy and caked with salt, they knew, from wherever they were, that their dreams were coming true.

They arrived one day in a great metropolis of Corinthian columns and marble domes and granite pillars, where a man named José Andrés purchased them for his food truck, Pepe. They were carved and sliced and seared and paired with aioli and roasted green peppers and caramelized onions atop so many ficelles, when along came the members of the Supreme Cart with, it so happens, a $20 bill. And so it came to pass, dear ones, that I, the Chief Justice, along with my sister came to grant cartiorari to Pepe’s $20 “Pepito de Ibérico.”

Pepe

II. STREET FOOD

Since at least the days of Big Cheese, our first task must always be that of determining whether the subject of our critique constitutes “street food.” See In re Big Cheese, 6 Catt. 2 (2012). It is well settled that the sandwich represents perhaps the clearest form of “street food.” See, e.g., id. Therefore, as a sandwich, unless we find the Pepito de Ibérico so flawed as to preclude affirmance, we must affirm. In this case, we find we must.

III. PRICING

Before passing to the sandwich itself, we must take pause to consider perhaps the most notable thing about the Pepito de Ibérico—that is, its price.

The faithful reader may recall that, a year or so ago, we of the Cart sampled Red Hook Lobster Pound’s $15 lobster roll. At the time, that was the metropolitan region’s dearest food truck offering. We remarked that Red Hook was “no everyday food truck.” In re Red Hook Lobster Pound, 2 Catt. 1 (2011). That it was “a special occasion food truck—an anniversary and graduation food truck,” or “[b]etter yet, an expense account food truck.” Id.

Well, it seems Red Hook has been surpassed by $5. The Pepito de Ibérico comes in at a hefty $20, which is not so very hefty after all given that it features a rather healthy helping of not inexpensive Ibérico ham. In the end, I would find the Pepito de Ibérico to be reasonably priced, although, at $20, it is firmly a “special occasion” buy.

Pepito de Iberico

IV. PEPITO DE IBERICO

And now, some 700 words into this frankly long-winded decision, we pass finally to the question of the sandwich itself. As we have done many times now, before analyzing the whole of the offering, we address each of its constituent parts.

Roasted Green Peppers. First, there are the green peppers which are roasted and flavorful and provide a verdant counterpoint to an otherwise fleshy sandwich. I have nothing much to say about the peppers individually except that they are delicious and not at all extraneous.

Caramelized Onions. Then there are the onions. “Caramelized” is one of those words that is bandied about and quickly loses its significance. Cf. Big Cheese, 6 Catt. 2 (2012); In re TaKorean, 1 Catt. 4 (2011). But Pepe’s onions are caramelized in the truest sense: golden, sweet, succulent, and mere seconds from burnt.

Aioli. As every schoolchild knows, an aioli is an emulsion of garlic, olive oil, and egg yolk. But Pepe’s aioli lent an almost cheese-like note to the sandwich, heightening the sensation that you are eating a cheesesteak—only much, much, much better.

Ficelle. The ficelle, see In re Rolling Ficelle, 6 Catt. 3 (2012), was fresh in the right places and crunchy in the right places and soft in the right places and all around a perfect vehicle for the sandwich’s other components. It held up mightily to the viscous aioli and the dripping grease of the two hams.

Jamón, Jamón. Finally, we arrive at the hams—little Puerquito and little Cochinito. Am I expert at distinguishing the intricacies of the Serrano from those of the Ibérico? Not really. I know intellectually that the latter is richer and fattier and a bit sweeter than the former. In the Pepito de Ibérico, there is no real opportunity to say, ah, so this is the Ibérico and, ah, so this is the Serrano. The two mingle and complement each other to form a deep and complex tapestry of porcine delicacy. And that is how it should be.

V. CONCLUSION

Given these artful components, it comes as no surprise that the sandwich as a whole is masterful. Pardon my Spanish, but it is damn tasty. And while it’ll run you a pretty Jackson, we of the Cart hold that it is okay to treat yourself to a street sandwich worth more than saffron once in a blue moon. Puerquito and Cochinito have done well in this land of opportunity—this land of office towers and moving pictures, this land of $20 street meat—, and there’s nothing more inspiring than that.

AFFIRMED.

CATTLEYA, J., concurring.

Ah, at long last the Chief Justice recognizes that he’s long-winded! Dare I hope that he will finally take tips from the wise Mr. Wydick, who has much to teach the Justice about concise writing?

On the subject of the $20 Pepito de Ibérico, I wish only to say that the sandwich, though very delicious,  is most certainly a dish to save for when someone else is picking up the bill.

A long day of hearing cases already behind us, we arrived at Rolls on Rolls (“ROR”) to sample its “delicious BAKED samosas.” The truck’s name, “Rolls on Rolls,” refers to the “kathi,” or “kati,” roll, a typical Kolkatan street food. However, judgment of ROR’s kathi roll will have to await the light of another day. In this instance, we granted cartiorari to consider the samosa.

Rolls on Rolls

First, we must consider whether the samosa is “street food.” If it is, we must affirm ROR’s samosa unless we can show it is a significantly flawed dish. See In re Big Cheese, 6 Catt. 2 (2012). We have defined “street food” as “the kind[] of food[] that can be cooked in front of you and [is] meant to be eaten with your hands, without forks, while standing up.” In re Eat Wonky, 2 Catt. 5 (2011). The samosa clearly meets this test. Because we find no significant flaw with ROR’s samosa, we must affirm.

Samosas

ROR’s samosa is a not atypical samosa. It is as good a samosa as any I have had. It gave the impression of a fried samosa, but I am informed by ROR’s Facebook page that is baked instead. I am therefore pretending it is an entirely healthy snack. The samosa’s filling, primarily potato, was tasty and well seasoned. The accompanying chutney was fresh and complementary. Service was adequate, and the price ($2 each) was reasonable.

In the end, this is a rather lilliputian decision, primarily because ROR’s samosa was a competent samosa without discernible flaw. A $2 samosa is a quick and delightful mid-day treat — in other words, everything street food should be.

AFFIRMED.

CATTLEYA, J., concurring.

All too often, baked versions of foods that are meant to be fried pale in comparison to the real thing. Baked Cheetos, for example, are mealy and lack the hard crunch of real Cheetos. And the powdered cheese sticks more to the fingers than to the actual snack piece. For these reasons, Baked Cheetos can never replace original Cheetos in my heart, mouth, or stomach.

ROR’s baked samosa, on the other hand, did not have me rushing out to find a fried version. There was crispness. There was flavor. There was even some grease. If the Chief Justice hadn’t repeatedly pointed out that we were eating a “healthy snack,” I wouldn’t have noticed that the samosa was baked.

Our regular reader will know that quite a few Asian fusion failures have come across the lunch table of the Supreme Cart. Too often, this Cart has found that fusion offers nothing to the palate but confusion. See, e.g., In re TaKorean, 1 Catt. 4 (2011) (disappointing Korean tacos); In re Seoul Food, 3 Catt. 1 (2011) (unfocused Korean burrito bowl); In re Sâuçá, 4 Catt. 3 (2011) (really-missed-the-mark Middle Eastern bánh mì). Still, I line up in front of food trucks that serve fusion because I believe that–in the right kitchen, by the right hands–it can be made well.

The Korean taco, in particular, is a knockout in my head. I can see sizzling galbi or bulgogi meat and spicy kimchi wrapped in a lightly toasted corn tortilla. The picture in my head isn’t so clear on the garnishes. Maybe the taco includes onion, cilantro, and Sriracha. Maybe it has lettuce, tomato, onion, and a cilantro-based sauce. Maybe there are jalapenos somewhere. Certainly, there is never any cheese.

The Cart’s first foray into fusion involved a Korean taco. It did not go well. What could have been great ended up being a Sriracha-and-cilantro taco with barely any Korean marinated meat and very fake kimchi. TaKorean, 1 Catt. 4.

Today, I decide the second Korean taco case to come before the Cart. The vendor is the straightforwardly-named Kimchi BBQ Taco (“KBT”).

Kimchi BBQ Taco

 I. BURDEN OF PROOF

Because tacos are true “street food” as the Supreme Cart has defined the term, I must affirm KBT’s tacos unless I can show that they suffer from serious flaws. In re Big Cheese, 6 Catt. 2 (2012) (explaining that a presumption of affirmance arises for true street food); In re Sol Mexican Grill, 9 Catt. 4 (2012) (holding that tacos are street food); In re Eat Wonky, 2 Catt. 5 (2011) (defining street food as “the kind[] of food[] that can be cooked in front of you and [is] meant to be eaten with your hands, without forks, while standing up”). I cannot prove that KBT’s tacos don’t belong on the street, and therefore I affirm.

II. KIMCHI BBQ TACO

KBT sells three tacos for $8. This is neither the best nor the worst price. TaKorean, 1 Catt. 4 (three tacos for $9); Sol Mexican Grill, 9 Catt. 4 (three tacos for $7); In re El Chilango, 12 Catt. 2 (2012) (three tacos for $6).

The ordering process requires two decisions. First, you have four meat options: 1) bulgogi; 2) spicy pork; 3) spicy chicken; or 4) tofu. Second, you choose your style of kimchi: 1) fresh red napa kimchi; 2) pan fried red napa kimchi; 3) sweet-n-spicy radish kimchi; or 4) bibimbap cabbage-carrot slaw. If you don’t want kimchi, you can opt for a sauce instead. There are two: 1) Korea’s Most Beloved Sauce (KMB); or 2) Korea’s Mad Spicy Sauce (KMS). KMB is described as “Sweet & Mild,” and KMS is “spicy but Dam [sic] Good.” (Okay, maybe there are three decisions that you have to make.)

Three Tacos

I ordered a bulgogi taco with fresh red napa kimchi, a spicy pork taco with bibimbap slaw, and a tofu taco with pan fried red napa kimchi. Each taco came with shredded lettuce, tomatoes, and generous drizzles of two sauces. One was mayo-based and spicy, and the other was a mix of sweet and spicy (perhaps Hoisin and Sriracha?).

I never really feel full after eating just tacos for lunch, but KBT’s tacos were larger in size than other tacos being sold on the streets. See TaKorean, 1 Catt. 4; Sol Mexican Grill, 9 Catt. 4. After finishing KBT’s tacos, I felt satisfied. (Yes, I could have eaten more, but I didn’t need to.)

At first glance, KBT’s tacos didn’t look like the Korean tacos in my head for one major reason. KBT used soft flour tortillas, not corn tortillas. Although I prefer the taste and texture of corn tortillas, KBT’s flour tortillas functioned well as a vehicle to contain the taco filling. The tortilla’s elasticity allowed it to mold around the filling and hold everything together.

Now, about that filling. All of the meats (let’s assume for our purposes that tofu is meat) were well-prepared. The bulgogi was sweet. The pork was tender and spicy. The tofu was surprisingly flavorful. Each taco came with a heaping of the chosen meat. KBT didn’t skimp.

Thankfully, KBT’s kimchi was real kimchi. Cf. Takorean, 1 Catt. 4 (using a vinegared, not fermented, garnish). The red napa kimchi was enjoyable, but it was too mild for me. I couldn’t tell the difference between the fresh and pan fried versions, especially after they were doused with the two sauces. KBT’s version of bibimbap slaw was not my favorite. Instead of KBT’s cabbage and carrots, I would have preferred a more traditional slaw of julienned carrots and daikon radishes.

The lettuce and tomatoes were mere stomach-fillers for me. Yes, I suppose they added a cool, light, and fresh element to the taco, but they made the taco feel too Tex-Mex for my liking. Plus, they took the focus away from the kimchi. KBT’s taco should follow the lead of its name: the main players in the taco should be the Korean barbecue and the kimchi.

The two sauces were spot on in terms of flavor. They kept a decent buzz in my mouth throughout the eating experience. However, they didn’t kick up the heat as much as I would have liked, and I wished I had added an extra squirt of Sriracha.

Between the two sauces and the juices oozing from the meat, the tacos were messy. Juices dripped into my hands. They dripped and dripped and pooled at the bottom of my Styrofoam container. By the time I got to my third taco, the tortilla was completely soaked in the drippings. It was a sticky mess to pick up, and my hands were coated with a caked-on layer all the way back to my chambers. (This could have been avoided if I had known to get extra napkins.)

III. CONCLUSION

KBT’s tacos were tasty, although they weren’t my dream Korean tacos. For me, the flour tortilla, lettuce, and tomatoes made them more Tex-Mex than Korean. But, I can say that they were the best Korean tacos that I’ve had so far. (N.B. I’ve only tried two Korean taco vendors so far.)

AFFIRMED. It is so ordered.

Up for review before the Cart is Wassub, a food truck that serves Asian fusion subs. Asian fusion dishes have not fared well in our court. See, e.g., In re Sâuçá, 4 Catt. 3 (2011) (un-eatable fusion bánh mì); In re Seoul Food, 3 Catt. 1 (2011) (confusing Korean-Mexican burrito bowl); In re TaKorean, 1 Catt. 4 (2011) (not-worth-the-hype Korean tacos). Still, we approached Wassub with unbiased stomachs and ordered the kimchi bulgogi sub.

Wassub

 I. TRUE “STREET FOOD”

Kimchi bulgogi sub

II. KIMCHI BULGOGI SUB ($9)

Closer look of kimchi bulgogi sub

There was nothing bad inside the sandwich. The bulgogi was sweet and tender. The kimchi was real kimchi. Cf. Takorean, 1 Catt. 4 (passing off vinegared slaw as kimchi). The provolone melted nicely. Moreover, the sandwich was not overly messy. The melted cheese seemed to function as a binding agent to hold all of the components together. When I bit into the sandwich, it didn’t explode and fall apart in my hands. Yes, I needed a napkin to clean up after I finished eating, but I didn’t need ten.

The sub was satisfying. But (isn’t there usually a “but”?), some elements could have been raised to even higher heights. The scrambled egg didn’t detract from the sandwich, but more often than not I didn’t taste it. Perhaps a sunny side up egg would have been better. Just thinking about a runny yolk soaking into all of the nooks and crannies between the bulgogi meat makes me hungry. And I would have liked much more kimchi on the sandwich to kick up the heat.

I must note a technical difficulty with the process of eating the sandwich. The hot juices from the meat soaked through the bottom layer of the roll. Now, this was not a bad thing. Not at all. The juices saturated the bread and infused it with flavor. Delicious. The problem was that the meat juices were so, so, so piping hot that I couldn’t pick up the sandwich and hold it for very long. My fingertips burned. This problem could very easily be alleviated by serving the sandwich in deli wrapping paper. That way there would be a layer to protect one’s sensitive fingers from the hot temperatures of the juice-soaked bread.

III. CONCLUSION

Wassub didn’t make any major fumbles with its kimchi bulgogi sub. It was good just the way it was, especially when spicy sauce was poured all over it.

(But, yes, it could be great with some minor tweaks, namely more kimchi and a sunny side up egg.)

AFFIRMED.

JEREMY, C.J., concurring. CATTLEYA, J., joins in everything except the pretentious bits in paragraph no. 4.

I have noticed a disturbing trend among mobile gastronomic enterprises. That trend, unfortunately, is obscenity. I have observed it before, see In re Hot People Food, 6 Catt. 4 (2012), and I have heard tell of the “Ring-My-Bella Burger” over at Sassy Sandwiches. But Wassub is perhaps the worst offender I have had the chance yet to encounter.

As a federal court, deriving its power ultimately from Article III of the United States Constitution, this Supreme Cart is subject to the pronouncements of the United States Supreme Court, even though appeal from this body to that body is strictly curtailed. We are thus bound by the Supreme Court’s pronouncement in Miller v. California, 413 U.S. 15 (1973), which establishes a sound and well-reasoned test to determine what constitutes obscenity. Under that test, we must ask: (a) “whether ‘the average person, applying contemporary community standards’ would find that the work, taken as a whole, appeals to the prurient interest;” (b) “whether the work depicts or describes, in a patently offensive way, sexual conduct;” and (c) “whether the work, taken as a whole, lacks serious literary, artistic, political, or scientific value.”

“Better than Sex” Claim

Besides boasting “Hottie Sauce,” Wassub offers several reasons why their sub “is better than sex.” Those reasons are reproduced in the graphic above. We will not undertake to determine whether their boast is substantiated—at the very least, it is mere puffery—but we find instead that they satisfy Miller’s test for obscenity.

No reasonable mind can seriously contend that the reasons above do not “depict[] or describe[], in a patently offensive way, sexual conduct.” Nor can the “average person, applying contemporary community standards” find otherwise than that “the work, taken as a whole, appeals to the prurient interest.” Judges and justices have long been maligned for being out of touch with the common man. But we, like the average Joe, don our flowing, black robes one arm at a time; we wait patiently in line for opera tickets; we eat our frankfurters with Grey Poupon. Our own standards align with those of our communities. We, like you, share a strong distaste for the degradation of society—with its inline skates and rock ‘n’ roll music—and yearn for the simpler existence of our childhoods, when dinner and a movie cost a nickel and the streets bustled with the familiar sounds of Model T’s. We are hep to your lingo and your Google and your Foxfire. Accordingly, we find that we, the Justices of this Supreme Cart, are more than able to discern the would-be observations of the “average person, applying contemporary community standards.” We average Joes cannot help but find Wassub’s boasts to appeal only “to the prurient interest.”

We turn, then, to our primary inquiry: whether Wassub’s boast, “taken as a whole, lacks serious literary, artistic, political, or scientific value.” There is certainly no literary value: the text of the poster has none of the rhyme of Spenser or the rhythm of Ferlinghetti. There is certainly no artistic value: the poster shown above is downright ugly. There is certainly no legitimate political value, nor is there any sense of science about Wassub’s claims.

If for no other reason than, as Justice Potter Stewart famous wrote, “I know it when I see it,” Wassub, in addition to its sub, purveys a certain sort of obscenity. See Jacobellis v. Ohio, 378 U.S. 184 (1964).

No. 54. Kimchi BBQ Taco. Cartiorari granted on the questions of taco with bulgogi & fresh red napa kimchi; taco with spicy pork & bibimbap slaw; and taco with tofu & pan fried red napa kimchi.

No. 55. Rolls on Rolls. Cartiorari granted on the question of samosas.

No. 56. Pepe. Cartiorari granted on the question of Pepito de Iberico.

No. 57. Langston Grille on Wheels. Cartiorari granted on the questions of (1) oxtail, (2) macaroni and cheese, and (2) sweet potato pie.

Opinion of JEREMY, C.J., in chambers.

Some months ago, I attended a judicial conference in New Orleans. While there, I had the privilege of eating at that grande dame of high Creole cuisine—Brennan’s—which I can only imagine takes its name from the late, great William J. Brennan, Jr., who so boldly and bravely sought to expand the concept of personal jurisdiction. With my sister and the Reporter of this Cart so mysteriously absent from our chambers this day, I take this opportunity to issue and publish a decision in the case of Brennan’s. I affirm.

I. JURISDICTION

Though the issue is clearly resolved in my mind, I will first take the time to silence those small-minded naysayers who may question whether Brennan’s falls within the jurisdiction of this Cart. Under Section 2 of the Judiciary Act of 2011 (Cartiorari Act), this Cart “shall have exclusive jurisdiction of all food carts, trucks, and other transitory alimentary establishments within those portions of the District of Columbia or the part thereof retroceded to the Commonwealth of Virginia by Act of [the] Congress assembled in the year of our Lord 1847.” It is from this statement that we take our own Rule of Procedure 1-2, which provides that “[t]he jurisdiction of the Cart shall extend to all mobile gastronomic enterprises situated throughout those parts of (a) the County of Arlington, Virginia, (b) the District of Columbia, and (c) the City of Alexandria, Virginia, which are reasonably proximate to public transportation of a reasonably rapid and efficient character.” See In re China Garden, 5 Catt. 1 (2012). Brennan’s clearly falls within our jurisdiction.

Southern Baked Apple with Cream

The jurisdictional test contains three elements. First, the establishment under a consideration must be a “mobile gastronomic enterprise[].” Second, it must be located in Arlington, Alexandria, or the District of Columbia. Third, it must be “reasonably proximate to public transportation of a reasonably rapid and efficient character.” I consider each in turn.

A. “Mobile Gastronomic Enterprise”

First, Brennan’s is, of course, a “gastronomic enterprise” as it as a business purveying Creole culinary creations. But it also a “mobile” gastronomic enterprise. Brennan’s lies on the North American plate, and, as every schoolboy knows, the tectonic plates are in constant flux, moving atop the asthenosphere like blobs of wax in a lava lamp. Even if we accept that Brennan’s is a discrete point upon the solid Earth, the solid Earth revolves around its axis, such that, at any given moment, any discrete terrestrial point occupies a different location in the Universe than it did the moment before. Furthermore, the Earth revolves around the Sun, further multiplying the infinity of locations in the Universe which Brennan’s has occupied since opening in 1946.

B. Located in Arlington, Alexandria, or the District of Columbia

Second, Brennan’s must be located in Arlington, Alexandria, or the District of Columbia. Because the Earth and its tectonic plates are in constant flux throughout the Universe, it is more likely than not that Brennan’s has occupied or will someday occupy a place in the Universe which was once or will someday be somewhere within the combined boundaries of Arlington, Alexandria, and the District of Columbia. In fact, this proposition is easily provable. It is generally accepted that, “[t]hrough the calculations begun by Edwin P. Hubble on the galaxies’ velocity of recession, we can establish the moment when all the universe’s matter was concentrated in a single point, before it began to expand in space.” Italo Calvino, “All at One Point,” COSMICOMICS at 43 (1965). In fact, Federal Rule of Evidence 803(16) allows to admit into the record the recollection of one “old Qfwfq,” who  Calvino notes as having recounted: “Naturally we were all there, . . . where else could we have been? . . . Every point of each us coincided with every point of each of the others in a single point, which was where we all were.” Id. Therefore, there is more than a mere scintilla of evidence in favor of the proposition that Brennan’s was, once, coextensive with all points and all matter now contained within the boundaries of our jurisdiction. Cf. Richardson v. Perales, 402 U.S. 389, 401 (1971). That evidence is substantial enough for the purposes of establishing the jurisdiction of this Supreme Cart.

C. “Reasonably Proximate to Public Transportation of a Reasonably Rapid and Efficient Character”

Third, Brennan’s must be “reasonably proximate to public transportation of a reasonably rapid and efficient character.” The network of streetcars in New Orleans is operated by the New Orleans Regional Transit Authority (“RTA”). The RTA was established by the Louisiana State Legislature and is, to some degree, accountable to the body politic. The RTA is therefore “public” and the network of streetcars it controls “public transportation.” Brennan’s is located at 417 Royal Street, less than a mile from the Canal Street, Riverfront, and St. Charles Avenue Lines of the New Orleans streetcar network. Brennan’s is therefore “reasonably proximate” to public transportation. Whether that transportation is “of a reasonably rapid and efficient character” is, to be sure, subject to debate. But I would find that determination to a political question, best answered by other institutions, and therefore nonjusticiable. Cf. Baker v. Carr, 369 U.S. 186 (1962). The City of New Orleans and the RTA would likely deem the streetcar network to be “rapid” and “efficient,” and this Cart must accept that determination.

Eggs Hussarde

II. STREET FOOD

Our second inquiry is whether we are considering proper “street food,” i.e., food that “can be cooked in front of you and [is] meant to be eaten with your hands, without forks, while standing up.” In re Eat Wonky, 2 Catt. 5 (2011). If Brennan’s offers “street food,” those offerings must be affirmed unless this Cart can prove otherwise. See In re Big Cheese, 6 Catt. 2 (2012). At first blush, the food served at Brennan’s cannot be deemed “street food” as this Cart has defined that term. While that food can be cooked in the diner’s presence (see discussion of bananas Foster below), it is certainly not “meant to be eaten with your hands, without forks, while standing up.” Brennan’s is the stuff of white tablecloths and fabric napkins.

But we have held that our Eat Wonky test is “not intended to affirmatively define the entire class of ‘street food’ . . . .” In re Hot People Food, 6 Catt. 4 (2012). The fact is, Brennan’s serves its food to its diners in a grand old building fronting on Royal Street. Only a pea-brained, reactionary strict constructionist could attempt to explain how “food” served alongside a “street” is not thereby “street food.” The presumption of affirmance must apply here. But even if it did not, I have no doubt I would still find in favor of Brennan’s.

Bananas Foster

III. GASTRONOMY

The petty and piddling matter of jurisdiction out of the way, we may safely progress to the substance of the matter: Brennan’s lavish breakfast. Lavish is an understatement as breakfast at Brennan’s is, in fact, a three-course affair. Luckily we justices are festooned with flowing black robes which graciously allow for an expanding corpulence and, given their color, provide an overall slimming effect. I opted for the following: (1) Southern baked apple with cream, (2) eggs Hussarde, and (3) bananas Foster, with a refreshing mimosa providing lubrication of mind and discourse throughout the repast. The Southern baked apple with cream was a thing of significant decadence. Sweet and luscious, it paved the way for the deep and profound savor of the eggs Hussarde (“A Brennan’s Original!”). Eggs Hussarde is essentially eggs Benedict with the addition of Marchand du Vin sauce—a rich and beefy Creole concoction. The final course was, naturally, Brennan’s most famous gift to gastronomy—Bananas Foster—complete with its dramatic table service.

That brings me to another point: service. Ordinarily, I am no stickler for service. In fact, as I have stated before, “I often find that the best restaurants are those with long waits and terrible service.” In re Hot People Food, 6 Catt. 4 (2012); see also In re Sol Mexican Grill, 9 Catt. 4 (2012); In re El Floridano, 2 Catt. 2 (2011). Sometimes, however, good service is worth noting. See Hot People Food, 6 Catt. 4; In re Doug the Food Dude, 5 Catt. 3 (2012). This is one such case. Brennan’s sustains the old restaurant traditions: white tablecloths, kindly wait staff in formalwear, intricate table service involving flaming liqueurs. All in all, Brennan’s conjures memories of a time when fine restaurants were as theatres.

 IV. CONCLUSION

An unusually judgmental person, I find myself unable find any fault with Brennan’s. My plates returned quite clean to the kitchen, and my soul was satisfied. I gave repeated thanks to the Graces for so kindly providing me with an opportunity to visit New Orleans and enjoy a breakfast at Brennan’s. For these reasons, the case of Brennan’s is

AFFIRMED. It is so ordered.

Before the Supreme Cart is Choupi, a crepe cart in Arlington, VA. We made a sua sponte appearance on a mild, breezy afternoon under Rule of Procedure 2-2, which permits Justices of the Cart to choose food trucks and carts within our jurisdiction to be subject to adjudication. Choupi sets up on the corner of North Lynn Street and 19th Street North in Rosslyn every weekday from the morning to late afternoon. We showed up at the tail end of the lunch hour rush, and there was still a line of people. Hoping that the length of the line correlated with the quality of the crepes, we waited for our turn.

Choupi

 I. TRUE “STREET FOOD”

Before we turn to a review of Choupi’s crepes, the Cart must determine whether crepes are “street food.” If crepes are street food, then we must affirm Choupi’s crepes unless we can show that they are not worthy of being served on our streets. See In re Big Cheese, 6 Catt. 2 (2012). We have defined street food as “the kind[] of food[] that can be cooked in front of you and [is] meant to be eaten with your hands, without forks, while standing up.” In re Eat Wonky, 2 Catt. 5 (2011). We have also recognized that food that has traditionally been consumed as street food around the world usually satisfies our own definition. Cf. In re Street Vendor Near National Mall, 9 Catt. 5 (2012). Because crepes not only are something of a national dish in France but are also served as street food, we hold that crepes are street food under our definition. Therefore, Choupi’s crepes are entitled to the presumption of affirmance by this court. However, for the reasons below, we would affirm Choupi’s crepes even without this presumption. The crepes are just that good.

II. CHOUPI

Choupi is operated by one person, probably because the cart is so small that it only fits one person, plus two crepe griddles. The two griddles, of course, mean that only two crepes can be made at a time. Perhaps those in a rush will consider this arrangement to be inconvenient, but we found comfort in the personal service and made-to-order meal. There are no shortcuts that sacrifice quality, there is no lazy warming up of stale, pre-assembled parts.

The menu is simple. The base price for a crepe is $3.50. Each filling is an additional 50 cents. There are “savory” meat fillings (like ham and turkey), vegetable fillings (like mushroom and spinach), and cheese fillings (like mozzarella and feta). There are “sweet” fruit fillings (like banana and apple cinnamon), nut fillings (like pecan and almond), and sauce fillings (like nutella and caramel). You can mix and match however you like. If you can’t decide, there’s a list of Choupi’s favorite crepe combinations for breakfast, lunch, and dessert. One of Choupi’s recommended desserts is a crepe with nutella, bananas, and pecans. We opted to try a version with walnuts in place of pecans.

Crepe with nutella, bananas, and walnuts

III. CREPE WITH NUTELLA, BANANAS, AND WALNUTS

I was twelve years old when I tried my first crepe. I was in Paris without my parents, and I nearly died on the spot when I saw that I could have something stuffed with nutella and bananas for lunch. Ever since then, every crepe that I’ve ordered has included nutella and bananas. Simple, but highly satisfying.

That twelve-year-old wondered about two things that I still haven’t figured out. First, why would you eat a savory crepe when you could indulge in a sweet crepe? Second, how can a nutella-and-banana crepe ever come out bad? Choupi’s nutella-banana-walnut crepe was so good that it did nothing to help me solve these very important questions.

The batter was made into the perfect crepe pancake. Don’t get me wrong–this was no thick, fluffy Aunt Jemima pancake. Choupi’s crepe was thin enough to develop a crispy–even flaky–outside, and yet it was still soft and chewy inside. As I said, it was perfect.

The fillings worked well together. There were large slices of bananas, not skimpy slivers. The nutella was generously applied, but it was not excessive. It melted just the right amount to bind the bananas and walnuts, but it did not messily ooze out and make a mess on the face or in the hands. The walnuts gave a nice bitter flavor to tone down the sweetness of the nutella.

The crepe was so good that I just wanted to keep eating and eating. And the best part was that the crepe was so large in size (huge, really) that the experience didn’t end too soon. We ordered this as a dessert, but it would have been more than enough to fill my stomach as a main course.

IV. CONCLUSION

Choupi’s made-to-order crepe with nutella, bananas, and walnuts was a great find in Rosslyn. The thin, crispy crepe was skillfully made, and the fillings satisfied my sweet tooth. It was a great deal, too. For $5, we got a huge crepe with three kinds of fillings. We left full and happy, and we will surely be back for more.

AFFIRMED.

JEREMY, C.J., concurring.

I heartily agree with my sister’s assessment of Choupi. I do, however, part ways with my sister in a certain decision she has made in writing her otherwise well-reasoned opinion. The subject of our present adjudication is properly represented graphically as crêpe and not as, my sister writes, crepe. For one, there is a certain ambiguity in the orthographic sequence ‘crepe,’ sans circumflex. Do I care to eat “a soft thin light fabric with a crinkled surface,” “rubber in sheets used especially for shoe soles, or, in Ireland, “a death notice printed on white card with a background of black crepe paper or cloth, placed on the door of a residence or business”? Indeed, I do not. More importantly, we have previously acknowledged the importance of diacritical marks, see In re Sâuçá, 4 Catt. 3 (2011), and so I am disappointed in my sister’s alarming nonchalance in this case. Our rôle should be always that of the respectful arbiter. A crêpe as good as Choupi’s has earned its hat and certainly deserves better treatment at my sister’s hand.

During my travels over the Supreme Cart’s summer recess, I came across a Mexican food truck (trailer, really) in Greenacres, Florida. Tacos al Carbon offered a wide variety of tacos. First, there were the options that you find at your local Chipotle chain, like steak and barbacoa. Then there were the choices typically found at Mexican restaurants, like carne molida (ground beef), al pastor (pork), and chorizo (pork sausage). And then–most interestingly to my palate–came the less usual options, like lengua (beef tongue), tripa (beef tripe), and chicharron (pork skin).

Tacos al Carbon in Greenacres, FL

Although the Florida-situated Tacos al Carbon fell outside the Cart’s jurisdiction, I stopped by to sample a taste of the larger food truck scene. I ordered a crunchy taco with carne asada (grilled steak), a soft taco with lengua, and another soft taco with tripa. My $5.99 three taco lunch special came with rice and beans.

Three Tacos with Rice and Beans

Upon my return to the Cart, I was pleased to discover a Mexican food truck within our jurisdiction — El Chilango (“EC”) in Arlington — that also served up tacos with unusual meat fillings. Even more exciting, the tacos were of the authentic Mexican kind, rather than the more common Tex-Mex variety. (Think cilantro, onion, lime and spicy salsa in place of tomatoes, cheese, sour cream, and guacamole.) The Justices of this Cart immediately granted cartiorari to EC.

El Chilango in Arlington, VA

  I. TRUE “STREET FOOD”

Because there is no question that tacos are “street food” as this court has defined the term, EC’s  tacos must be affirmed unless the Cart can meet the high burden to prove that EC’s tacos do not belong on the street. See In re Eat Wonky, 2 Catt. 5 (2011) (defining street food as “the kind[] of food[] that can be cooked in front of you and [is] meant to be eaten with your hands, without forks, while standing up”); In re Big Cheese, 6 Catt. 2 (2012) (explaining that street food is entitled to the presumption of affirmance); In re Sol Mexican Grill, 9 Catt. 4 (2012) (finding that tacos are street food). This Cart cannot even begin to rebut the presumption of affirmance.

II. EL CHILANGO

EC is a quiet member of Arlington’s food truck scene. It does not rely on splashy graphics or social media. It parks in the same spot in a residential neighborhood every Monday through Saturday from 11am to 8pm. Although it’s within walking distance (around 10 minutes) from the Rosslyn metro station, it’s out of the way to grab a quick lunch or dinner, especially considering the line of food trucks and carts that are conveniently parked right outside the metro station. EC is parked in an area (usually near 14th Street N. and N. Queen Street) that doesn’t benefit from heavy foot traffic, which means that most diners purposely go out of their way to get to EC. EC’s location might seem like a strike against it, but it’s actually a great sign in favor of it. When paying customers go out of their way just to get to an eating establishment, it’s usually an indication that the food is worth it. And, in EC’s case, it was. (Perhaps another sign of how good the food is, EC recently launched a brick-and-mortar location at 1119 V St. NW in the District.)

EC’s menu is simple. It makes tacos, and only tacos. There are six types:

1. pollo (chicken);
2. al pastor (pork);
3. carne asada (grilled steak);
4. chorizo (pork sausage);
5. mixto (mix of carne asada and chorizo); and
6. lengua (beef tongue).

EC’s tacos are soft, served on toasted corn tortillas. Tacos are topped with onion and cilantro. Fresh radish slices and chopped cucumbers are served on the side. EC provides lime wedges to squeeze on top of the tacos and sets out bottles of salsas verde and rojo on the counter for you to serve yourself. Each taco is a very affordable $2 (cash only). Cf. In re TaKorean, 1 Catt. 4 (2011) ($3.50 per taco or $9 for three tacos); In re Sol Mexican Grill, 9 Catt. 4 (2012) ($7 for three tacos).

Round 1: Tacos with Carne Asada, Pollo, Al Pastor, Chorizo, Lengua, and Mixtos

I ordered one of each. Then after I cleaned off my plate, I went back for another chorizo and carne asada.

Round 2: Tacos with Chorizo and Carne Asada

It is the tradition of this Cart to review each component of a food truck’s offerings, see, e.g., Takorean, 1 Catt. 4, and I see no reason to change that now.

Corn tortillas. Each taco came with two corn–not flour–tortillas. They were lightly grilled. It would be a mistake to view the double layer as a mere stomach-filler; it had an important purpose. Even if the meat juices soaked through one layer, and even if the sogginess caused that tortilla to tear, there was another layer to keep the taco neatly together. This double layer particularly saved the day for the chorizo taco, which came with the sort of eating experience that causes delicious juices to run down your chin and all over your hands.

Meats. All of the meats were well-cooked and tender. The chorizo, carne asada, and al pastor  were especially juicy and flavorful. The chorizo was spicy and salty, the carne asada was nice and beefy, and the al pastor was sweet and smokey. The first two meats left a stronger impression on my palate, as evidenced by my return for second helpings. My law clerk opted for seconds of the chorizo and al pastor. I confess that my preference for asada over al pastor might have more to do with my upbringing in a no-pork kitchen and less to do with the actual merits of the two meats. See In re Floridano, 2 Catt. 2 (2011) (Cattleya, J., concurring) (“Due to my father’s religious restriction on the eating of pork, my mother never cooked it . . . .). The easy agreement that my law clerk and I reached on the chorizo (in spite of my upbringing in a no-pork kitchen) should be a sign of just how delicious it was. Even though the pollo was seasoned sufficiently, it came off as bland in comparison to the pork and beef options. This was not surprising, given the relatively mild flavor of chicken. After all, who would want chicken when you could have chorizo? See In re Red Hook Lobster Pound, 2 Catt. 1 (2011) (“[N]o one in their right mind orders shrimp over lobster.”); In re El Floridano, 2 Catt. 2 (2011) (“[N]o one in their right mind orders [tempeh] over [pork].” (internal quotation marks omitted)).  If I were to do it again, I would eat the pollo taco first, so that my taste buds weren’t coated with the delicious memory of the other meats. Finally, the lengua wasn’t bad, but it didn’t shine either, as I know lengua can. The too-finely chopped lengua had lost most of its firm yet spongy texture and its deep flavor. If I hadn’t known that I was eating lengua, then I wouldn’t have known that I was eating lengua. (I leave it to the reader to decide whether that is a good or bad thing.)

Toppings. Cheese, sour cream, and guacamole were not on EC’s authentic Mexican menu, and they were not missed. The onion, cilantro, and lime provided a cool and fresh topping to balance the heat of the meat and spiciness of the salsas. Both salsas added a garlicky zing that kicked up the flavors of the tacos, though the salsa rojo had a hotter zing than the salsa verde. The more salsa there was, the better the taco tasted. The side of sliced radishes and chopped cucumbers also worked to cool down the heat. In addition, they gave a nice, crisp bite to set off the textural softness of the tacos.

III. CONCLUSION

EC knows how to make a taco. Sure, a couple of the meat fillings (chicken, lengua) didn’t stand out when compared to the excellent quality of the rest (chorizo, carne asada, al pastor), but it was like comparing filet mignon and lobster. One of them had to come in at the bottom of the rankings, but they were all still good. (If forced to rank, I would pick: 1. chorizo, 2. carne asada, 3. al pastor, 4. pollo, 5. lengua.)

The bottom line is this: EC made authentic tacos that didn’t disappoint my stomach or drain my wallet. EC’s tacos are exactly what should be coming out of a food truck’s kitchen. The tacos are meant to be eaten with your hands (even if I had wanted a fork, I didn’t see any). The tacos are meant to be eaten while standing up (in fact, you have to unless you want to sit on the sidewalk). What’s more, I want to go out to eat EC’s tacos because I can’t cook them myself at home. I could try, but it surely would not compare. I will return to EC — and soon.

AFFIRMED.

We granted cartiorari to Tops American Food Company (“TAFC”) to review the combination of its “hot Italian sausage” with peppers, onions, cheese, and “chilli [sic] cook-off winning chilli [sic]” atop a hot dog bun. As discussed below, we affirm.

Our initial query is always that of determining whether the subject of our discussion constitutes “street food.” If it does, we apply a presumption that the item under consideration should be affirmed. See In re Big Cheese, 6 Catt. 2 (2012). We need not linger on this question, for we have previously held that a half-smoke is per se street food, and by the same logic so must a hot Italian sausage. Cf. In re Street Vendor Near National Mall, 9 Catt. 5 (2012); see also In re PORC, 4 Catt. 1 (2011). Because the subject of our consideration constitutes “street food,” we will presume it should be affirmed absent indication to the contrary.

Tops American Food Company

Sausage. This Cart has, on at least one prior occasion, addressed an artisanal sausage. In In re PORC, we considered the following elements in assessing a gin and juniper duck sausage: (1) casing, (2) preparation, (3) texture, (4) taste. See id. Without holding here that a sausage or sausage-like foodstuff need satisfy all four elements in order to be affirmed by this Cart, we find, in this case, that TAFC’s hot Italian sausage does. TAFC’s casing was good, the kind that snaps satisfyingly when you bite into it. The preparation was flawless–not too dry, not overcooked. Texturally, the sausage was, like PORC’s and like a typical Washingtonian half-smoke, on the coarser side, which I tend to prefer. In terms of taste, I would call the sausage pleasantly piquant; without searing the palate, it lived up to the promise of the “hot” in its name. All in all, I have no complaints.

Italian Chili Cheese Dog

Chili. As noted above, I am informed TAFC’s chili has won certain awards. I am not sure which, and, quite frankly, dear reader, I don’t give a damn. Food awards are political events, and we of the Judiciary do best to avoid involvement in such. We say what the law is, see Marbury v. Madison, 5 U.S. 137 (1803), not what it should be. TAFC’s chili was delicious and a perfect complement to its hot Italian sausage. It, too, packed a certain potency. All in all, I have no complaints.

Accoutrements. Every good chili cheese dog requires some conveyance by which to maintain its nature as “street food.” Here, as usual, that conveyance is the hot dog bun. The bun held up well enough under the heat and weight of sausage and chili, becoming permeated with their flavors but without becoming soggily so. Toppings of cheese, onions, and peppers completed a classic street food concoction.

Because there are no flaws by which to rebut the presumption of affirmance, we, the Cart, find that TAFC’s hot Italian sausage chili cheese dog must be, and is hereby,

AFFIRMED.

CATTLEYA, J., concurring.

Although the correct result has been reached in this case, I am saddened to see that my brother has opened up the Cart’s new term with an opinion that rejects plain English. But, of course, I am not surprised. See, e.g., In re DC Empanadas, 1 Catt. 3 (2011) (Jeremy, C.J.) (purposely using pretentious words). Yet again he casts aside familiar words in favor of a romp in his beloved thesaurus. He “would call the sausage pleasantly piquant”? 12 Catt. 1 (emphasis added). Oh really, Chief Justice? Well, I (and most other people, I think) would call it spicy. The sausage was spicy. Wonderfully so. So wonderful, in fact, that I am going to pick up another chili cheese dog on my way to get a copy of Plain English for Lawyers for my colleague, though he will surely continue to ignore its wise lessons (and opt instead to re-re-watch his copy of Gone with the Wind).

No. 50. El Chilango. Cartiorari granted on the questions of tacos with (1) beef (asada), (2) chicken (pollo), (3) pork (al pastor), (4) pork sausage (chorizo), (5) beef tongue (lengua), and (6) beef and pork sausage (mixtos).

No. 51. Choupi. Cartiorari granted on the questions of sweet crepe with bananas, walnuts, and nutella.

No. 52. Brennan’s. Cartiorari granted on the question of whether breakfast is within the jurisdiction of the Cart.

Today we decide the case of the Maine Avenue Fish Market, known to locals as the Wharf. At this open air market located on the Southwest Waterfront, vendors sell fresh and cooked-to-order seafood from floating barges along the pier. The sole issue before us is whether the Supreme Cart has jurisdiction over seafood sold at the Wharf.

Maine Avenue Fish Market (a.k.a. The Wharf)

The Judiciary Act of 2011 (Cartiorari Act) grants the Supreme Cart “exclusive jurisdiction of all food carts, trucks, and other transitory alimentary establishments.” Our Rule of Procedure 1-2 states that “[t]he jurisdiction of the Cart shall extend to all mobile gastronomic enterprises situated throughout those parts of (a) the County of Arlington, Virginia, (b) the District of Columbia, and (c) the City of Alexandria, Virginia, which are reasonably proximate to public transportation of a reasonably rapid and efficient character.”

Floating Barge Vendor

Do the Wharf’s floating barges constitute “transitory alimentary establishments” or “mobile gastronomic enterprises”? In our first jurisdictional opinion, In re China Garden, 5 Catt. 1 (2012), we interpreted the term “mobile gastronomic enterprises” and held that the “enterprise[]” itself had to be “mobile,” not just the “gastronom[y].” We affirmed this interpretation in In re Dippin’ Dots, 10 Catt. 5 (2012). Thus, the Supreme Cart had jurisdiction over an ice cream pushcart because both its gastronomy (ice cream) and enterprise (food cart franchisee) were moveable. Dippin’ Dots, 10 Catt. 5. But we did not have jurisdiction over a dim sum pushcart even though its gastronomy (dim sum) was mobile because the enterprise (brick-and-mortar Chinese restaurant) was not mobile. China Garden, 5 Catt. 1.

To resolve the issue before the Cart, we must determine (1) whether the Wharf’s gastronomy is mobile and (2) whether its enterprise is mobile. If either is immobile, then this Cart does not have jurisdiction over the case since the Wharf would not be a “mobile gastronomic enterprise.”

Permanently Docked Barge

On the second question, the Cart finds that the Wharf’s enterprise is not mobile. It is true that vendors at the Wharf sell seafood from barges that float in the water along the pier and that the barges could be capable of moving. This appears to render the Wharf’s enterprise “mobile,” but such an appearance is misleading. The barges are affixed to the pier. They have been permanently docked and thus are effectively immobile. Therefore, the Wharf’s enterprise is not mobile and the Wharf does not satisfy this requirement of a “mobile gastronomic enterprise.”

Because the Wharf’s enterprise is not mobile, it is unnecessary to consider the first question of whether its gastronomy is mobile. Both must be met for the Cart to have jurisdiction, and since one is not met, I decline to consider the other for the sake of judicial economy.

I reiterate that the only issue before us is whether the Cart has jurisdiction over the Wharf. Having found that we do not, we cannot consider any issues relating to the merits of the Wharf’s gastronomy, which includes seafood like shrimp, crabs, and oysters. I urge the Chief Justice to stand strong against any temptation to address any issues beyond the jurisdictional question. I remind him of Judge Henry J. Friendly’s wise words:

A judge’s power to bind is limited to the issue that is before him; he cannot transmute dictum into decision by waving a wand and uttering the word “hold.”

United States v. Rubin, 609 F.2d 51, 69 (2d Cir. 1979) (Friendly, J., concurring).

Chief Justice, please put your wand away in this case.

DISMISSED.

JEREMY, C.J., dissenting.

We have before us a case of vehicles in the park. In 1958, a great debate raged in the pages of the Harvard Law Review. Mr. H.L.A. Hart, defender of legal positivism, imagined a legal rule forbidding “vehicles in the park.” H.L.A. Hart, Positivism and the Separation of Law and Morals, 71 HARV. L. REV. 593, 607 (1958). Clearly this legal rule would bar automobiles, says Professor Hart, but what of bicycles, roller skates, and toy automobiles? Id. Professor Hart posited a core of meaning and penumbrae of “debatable cases.” Id. Mr. Lon Fuller, devil’s advocate for legal realism, asked in response: “What would Professor Hart say if some local patriots wanted to mount on a pedestal in the park a truck used in World War II, while other citizens, regarding the proposed memorial as an eyesore, support their stand by the ‘no vehicle’ rule?” Lon L. Fuller, Positivism and Fidelity to Law—A Reply to Professor Hart, 71 HARV. L. REV. 630, 663 (1958). What would Justice Cattleya say? And so I ask, o Justice Cattleya, must a “mobile gastronomic enterprise,” though it retains the potential for mobility, lose its exalted status merely because it is tethered indefinitely. At what point, then, would a food truck parked at K and Connecticut cease to be “mobile”? A day? A week? A month? A year? My sister—she of the bright lines, see In re Sang on Wheels, 11 Catt. 2 (2012) (Cattleya, J., dissenting)—once again exposes her inconsistencies. I would not dismiss this case, not for all the steamed and seasoned crabs in the Chesapeake Bay.

Reporter’s Note: The dissenting opinion was not included in the first publication and was added on October 24, 2012 due to the Chief Justice’s failure to meet the publication deadline. 

Green papaya salad is one of those characteristic dishes by which one may assess the quality of an establishment which purports to purvey a particular cuisine. In French restaurants, I tend to sample crème brûlée. In Italian restaurants, tiramisù. In Greek restaurants, galaktoboureko. Of course, waiting till dessert requires one to first plod through a meal of unknown quality. Luckily, certain Southeast Asian cuisines—Thai, Laotian, Cambodian—have given us a salad of such ubiquity, of such delicacy, and of such simple finesse that we may assess an establishment’s quality from the onset. And so it was with an entirely scientific and objective curiosity that, one particularly muggy Spring day, we ordered green papaya salad from Sang on Wheels (“SOW”). We have recently adjudicated SOW’s drunken noodles, upon which my sister and I met with some disagreement. See In re Sang on Wheels, 11 Catt. 1 (2012). Today, we consider the case of SOW’s papaya salad.

I. STREET FOOD

I would find green papaya salad to constitute “street food” and thus be entitled to a presumption of affirmance. Street food is “the kind[] of food[] that can be cooked in front of you and [is] meant to be eaten with your hands, without forks, while standing up.” In re Eat Wonky, 2 Catt. 5 (2011). While green papaya salad requires use of a fork and thus cannot meet all elements of this test so construed, we have held that our Eat Wonky, used to determine whether a dish is “street food,” is “not intended to affirmatively define the entire class of ‘street food,’ but is rather intended only to be a multifactor test to guide and direct our analysis.” In re Hot People Food, 6 Catt. 4 (2012). We have also held before that food that has traditionally been understood to constitute “street food” must necessarily satisfy our own definition of “street food.” Cf. In re Street Vendor Near National Mall, 9 Catt. 5 (2012). Green papaya salad is a tried-and-true street food which satisfies the spirit, if not each exact element, of our Eat Wonky test. I would therefore find green papaya salad to constitute “street food” under our jurisprudence, despite the required use of a fork. As such, SOW’s green papaya salad is entitled to a presumption of affirmance unless this Cart can meet its heavy burden to rebut that presumption. See In re Big Cheese, 6 Catt. 2 (2012).

In this case, as explained below, the Cart rebuts the presumption of affirmance.

Papaya Salad

II. GREEN PAPAYA SALAD

Green papaya salad is a perfectly balanced dish, blending (a) young, unripe, shredded papaya (almost tart), combined with (b) lime (sour), (c) fish sauce (salty), (d) chili (spicy), and a touch of palm sugar (sweet). These competing flavors should be in equilibrium.

Each of these elements was present in SOW’s green papaya salad, but that all-important equilibrium was missing. In this Cart’s earlier decision with regard to SOW’s drunken noodles, my sister wondered “whether SoW purposely sweetened its sauce with sugar to appeal to the American palate, in the same way that Thai restaurants in the area have become too Americanized.” See Sang on Wheels, 11 Catt. 1. With its green papaya salad, SOW again offered up a cloyingly sweet dish. Texturally, too, the dish was problematic. The shredded papaya was suspended in a gloppy, unidentifiable sauce. In the end, I was unable to take more than a few bites. Given my predilection for crème brûlée, tiramisù, and galaktoboureko, I may have a bit of a sweet tooth. But my sweet tooth was not nearly sweet enough for SOW’s papaya salad.

III. CONCLUSION

As with its drunken noodles, SOW’s papaya salad held a lot of promise. But because it was cloyingly sweet, unbalanced, and texturally awkward, this dish must be

REMANDED to Sang on Wheels for revision.

CATTLEYA, J., concurring dubitante.

My gut tells me that papaya salad is not street food. However, I cannot prove it. It’s nearly impossible to do so now that the Cart’s method for determining “street food” — once a bright-line test — has been reduced to a free-for-all where anything goes.

For example, I cannot reconcile how Asian noodles could be street food in my brother’s mind, see In re Sang on Wheels (The Drunken Noodles Case), 11 Catt. 1 (2012) (Jeremy, C.J., dissenting), but Italian spaghetti would not be. (My intuition tells me that the Chief Justice would not find spaghetti to be street food. To my knowledge, no food truck within the Cart’s jurisdiction even sells spaghetti.) But are Asian noodles and Italian spaghetti so very different? My brother would explain that it’s the spirit of our “street food” test that separates Asian noodles from Italian spaghetti. He relies on this spirit to classify papaya salad as street food:

Green papaya salad is a tried-and-true street food which satisfies the spirit, if not each exact element, of our Eat Wonky test.

I find this answer highly unsatisfactory because my brother relies on a spirit that he has in the past rejected. When he disagreed with my analysis not so long ago in In re China Garden, he wrote:

My sister invokes the spirit of a law over its text . . . willfully overlooking the fact that laws have no spirits. This is indeed a sad day for legal reasoning, a travesty of justice, a flaunting of the rule of law, and a return to the basest form of judicial activism there is.

China Garden, 5 Catt. 1 (2012) (Jeremy, C.J., dissenting).

According to the wise Chief Justice, the spirit of a law is sufficient even if not every element is satisfied, but invoking the spirit of a law over its text is the basest form of judicial activism because laws have no spirits. There is a fine line here, indeed. And clearly, I have not figured out how to walk it, while it seems that my brother has. To me, it sounds like laws have no spirits — except when the Chief Justice says that they do. But this cannot be. I know a fine legal mind such as his has a better explanation for what appears to be a gross inconsistency in his thinking. I know it must, just must, be a matter of my limited understanding.

Because I do not understand why papaya salad (or drunken noodles) is street food and the Chief Justice does, I must go along with my brother’s conclusion today — but with the gravest, gravest doubts.

We granted cartiorari to Sang on Wheels (“SoW”), a self-described “Laos/Asian Fusion style food truck.” The Justices of the Supreme Cart generally approach fusion with skepticism, as we have tasted many fusion failures. See, e.g., In re TaKorean, 1 Catt. 4 (2011) (combining Korean and Mexican cuisines); In re Seoul Food (The Korean Superbowl Case), 3 Catt. 1 (2011) (same). However, SoW’s menu doesn’t fit into the modern understanding of fusion cuisine. Rather, its dishes are a more traditional type of fusion, the result of different ethnicities living together and influencing each other’s foods, and not the random mash-up of different culinary styles in a commercial kitchen. For example, drunken noodles – an item on SoW’s menu – is a dish that reflects the influence of Chinese immigrants in Laos. Presented with the opportunity to try proper fusion food, we eagerly lined up in front of SoW’s truck.

Sang on Wheels

We, of course, ordered the drunken noodles. SoW serves its drunken noodles with either (1) tofu; (2) chicken; or (3) shrimp. With these three options before us, it should come as no surprise that we opted for the shrimp (over the chicken over the tofu). See In re Red Hook Lobster Pound, 2 Catt. 1 (2011) (“[N]o one in their right mind orders shrimp over lobster.”); In re El Floridano, 2 Catt. 2 (2011) (“[N]o one in their right mind orders [tempeh] over [pork].” (internal quotation marks omitted)).  SoW’s drunken noodles cost $8. For an additional $2, you can pair the noodles with either a/an (1) Laotian egg roll; (2) papaya salad; (3) so-called “Asian empanada”; (4) Thai iced tea; or (5) sticky rice with mango. Each of these five items costs between $3 to $5 a la carte, so whatever you choose, you’re getting a good deal. We chose the papaya salad. We review the papaya salad in a companion case, In re Sang on Wheels (The Papaya Salad Case), 11 Catt. 2 (2012).

I. STREET FOOD

As an initial matter, we note that drunken noodles are not street food according to this court’s case law, even though drunken noodles are served from street carts in Asian countries. Street food is “the kind[] of food[] that can be cooked in front of you and [is] meant to be eaten with your hands, without forks, while standing up.” In re Eat Wonky, 2 Catt. 5 (2011). We have denied “street food” status to other dishes involving a form of noodle. See, e.g., In re Basil Thyme, 8 Catt. 1 (2012) (lasagna was not street food). We have also denied it to many rice-based dishes, which are similar to noodle-based dishes. See, e.g., In re fojol bros., 8 Catt. 3 (2012) (meat with rice); In re Hot People Food (The Sassy Chicken Case), 7 Catt. 2 (2012) (same); In re NY Famous Kabob, 7 Catt. 3 (2012) (same); In re Salt and Pepper Grill (The Chicken Tikka Masala Case), 8 Catt. 2 (2012) (same).  Because drunken noodles are not street food, the dish is not entitled to the presumption that it should be affirmed; the noodle dish must prove its own merits. See In re Big Cheese, 6 Catt. 2 (2012).

 II. DRUNKEN NOODLES WITH SHRIMP

When SoW handed us an order of drunken noodles with shrimp, my eyes grew wide. The dish looked delicious, really delicious. Succulent pieces of shrimp. Large pieces of broccoli and carrots. Fresh Thai basil leaves. A very generous serving of flat, wide rice noodles. All smothered in a spicy-looking sauce. I was not the only one who was impressed with what I saw. A young lad in line asked what we had ordered when he spotted the dish in my hands. “We’re getting that, ” he informed his companion, leaving no room for discussion.

Drunken Noodles with Shrimp

If only our eyes did the eating that day, this Supreme Cart would affirm wholeheartedly. However, the dish looked better than it tasted, and so we must affirm in part and remand in part. SoW’s drunken noodles did many, many things right, but one big thing – the taste of the sauce – was off.

First, what SoW did well:

1) SoW did not skimp on ingredients. There were several pieces of shrimp in our serving, plus lots of fresh vegetables.

2) SoW gave us a lot. A whole lot. Our food tray overflowed with a heaping of noodles.

3) SoW is a great deal. Not only did we get a lot of food, but we got a lot of food for a reasonable price.

Now, what could have been better:

1) The shrimp. The pieces of shrimp were mealy, suggesting that they were overcooked or not fresh to begin with.

2) The sauce. This stir fry dish is typically made with fish sauce, soy sauce, garlic, Thai chili peppers, and Thai basil. It’s usually spicy rather than sweet. But SoW’s version tasted more like duck sauce, and it was very sweet. It was not what we expected. We wonder whether SoW purposely sweetened its sauce with sugar to appeal to the American palate, in the same way that Thai restaurants in the area have become too Americanized. We would have preferred a spicier rendition.

A disclaimer of sorts:

For the sake of fairness, I state for the record that SoW was the last of several food trucks (excluding dessert food trucks) that we visited at a food truck festival. We did not show up to SoW’s window with empty stomachs. If we had, I probably would have gobbled up the entire serving of drunken noodles without noticing the too-sweet sauce. But because my stomach was already satiated and my blood sugar levels were stable, my taste buds were able to focus on the fine details. Although I stand by our conclusion in this case, I note that hungrier stomachs might enjoy SoW just for the generous portions, regardless of the sweet flavor profile.

III. CONCLUSION

SoW’s drunken noodles with shrimp held a lot of promise. This could have been an excellent food find. SoW did several things very well (especially the portion size), but the dish ultimately fell short because the sauce was American sweet, instead of hot and spicy.

AFFIRMED in part and REMANDED in part to Sang on Wheels for revision.

JEREMY, C.J., dissenting.

In committee, I had originally voted to affirm in part and remand in part, as my sister does in her thoughtful opinion. However, upon further reflection, I must change my decision. I would remand the case in its entirety to SoW for revision.

Initially, I would part ways with my sister’s determination that SoW’s drunken noodles do not constitute “street food.” First, we have held that our Eat Wonky, used to determine whether a dish is “street food,” is “not intended to affirmatively define the entire class of ‘street food,’ but is rather intended only to be a multifactor test to guide and direct our analysis.” In re Hot People Food, 6 Catt. 4 (2012). While SoW’s drunken noodles certainly do not meet each element of the Eat Wonky test, this is a dish which, as my sister notes, has traditionally been served as street food in other parts of the world. Indeed, we have held before that food that has traditionally been understand to constitute “street food” must necessarily satisfy our own definition of “street food.” Cf. In re Street Vendor Near National Mall, 9 Catt. 5 (2012) (considering the humble half smoke). I would find that SoW’s drunken noodles do constitute “street food” and, as such, are entitled to the presumption of affirmance. However, in this case, I would find that presumption to be rebutted.

I agree with my sister that (1) “SoW did not skimp on ingredients,” (2) “SoW gave us a lot,” and (3) “SoW is a great deal” (i.e., we received a lot of food for a reasonable price). I will add that the dish was quite a beautiful dish. But, in the end, I cannot say that I really enjoyed the drunken noodles, and taste remains always the most important factor in our adjudication. As my sister notes, the shrimp was mealy, and the sauce was cloyingly sweet. Yes, SoW “did not skimp on ingredients” and “gave us a lot,” but I could do without a heaping helping of mealy shrimp in stir-fried duck sauce.

I was excited to try SoW’s drunken noodles. In the past, I have greatly enjoyed Lao cuisine. I can say without hesitation that Lao cuisine is one of the most unique, most interesting, and most exciting cuisines I have had the pleasure to sample. And so SoW’s drunken noodles were a true disappointment. As my sister notes, we heard argument several hours into a food truck event. I am hopeful that my experience was an aberration. Our Rules of Procedure allow us to reconsider a previously decided case. In this case, I may do just that.

No. 48. Maine Avenue Fish Market (The Wharf). Cartiorari granted on the question of whether seafood is within the jurisdiction of the Cart.

At the invitation of a community group, I recently attended an event during which the caterers arranged to bring a Dippin’ Dots ice cream cart into the reception hall for the enjoyment of the guests gathered there. The question before us today is whether this Dippin’ Dots cart is within the Supreme Cart’s jurisdiction. May the Cart review its ice creams?

Dippin’ Dots

I. JURISDICTION

At first glance, it appears that our first jurisdictional decision, In re China Garden, 5 Catt. 1 (2012), resolves the matter easily. China Garden interpreted the term “mobile gastronomic enterprise” from our Rules of Procedure. Rule 1-2 states the following:

 The jurisdiction of the Cart shall extend to all mobile gastronomic enterprises situated throughout those parts of (a) the County of Arlington, Virginia, (b) the District of Columbia, and (c) the City of Alexandria, Virginia, which are reasonably proximate to public transportation of a reasonably rapid and efficient character.

In China Garden, we found that “mobile” modified both “gastronomic” and “enterprise.” In other words, not only must the food be mobile, but the establishment selling the food must be mobile too. Thus, we did not have jurisdiction over a pushcart that was operated inside a fixed, brick-and-mortar restaurant. Even though the food was mobile, the restaurant was not.

Although it may seem that the instant case – a pushcart inside an event hall – is nearly identical to a pushcart inside a restaurant, China Garden does not answer our question or end our analysis. The most obvious distinction between the two cases – a pushcart inside an unaffiliated event hall versus an affiliated restaurant – could very well be significant. While the pushcart in China Garden was not equipped to serve customers outside the restaurant, the Dippin’ Dot cart was not affiliated with the event hall and easily could have been moved to another indoor or outdoor venue. Indeed, that is its purpose. (For example, Smithsonian features outdoor Dippin’ Dots carts during the warmer months.) Thus, China Garden’s pushcart was merely an arm of its enterprise. On the other hand, the Dippin’ Dots cart was an enterprise of its own.

Even if this reasoning were not enough to push the Dippin’ Dots cart into our jurisdiction, there is another basis – a stronger one – to find that the Supreme Cart has jurisdiction in this case. Dippin’ Dots is distributed throughout the country; its ice creams are sold at various franchised locations. Currently, one of its franchisees is a food truck that operates in DC. We unquestionably have jurisdiction over this Dippin’ Dots truck. Does that jurisdiction extend to the Dippin’ Dots cart at issue in this case?

In our second jurisdictional decision, In re Pupatella, we denied jurisdiction to a brick-and-mortar restaurant that previously operated as a food cart, but “we [left] open the question of whether this court’s jurisdiction extends to a brick-and-mortar restaurant that concurrently operates a food cart.” 8 Catt. 4 (2012). Before we answer that question, today we are faced with an easier question. Does this court have jurisdiction over a pushcart affiliated with a food truck that is in our jurisdiction?

The answer, of course, is yes. The pushcart vends the same ice cream products as the food truck. A review of the cart’s ice cream is a review of the truck’s ice cream. The substance is the same, and the substance should trump the form. Justice is served with this result because Dippin’ Dots gets its day before the Supreme Cart and the reader gets a review of Dippin’ Dots’s ice cream products.

II. STREET FOOD

Ice cream is true street food. In re Sinplicity, 9 Catt. 3 (2012) (finding that ice cream is street food); see also In re Eat Wonky (The Whoopie Pie Case), 2 Catt. 5 (2011) (defining street food as “the kind[] of food[] that can be cooked in front of you and [is] meant to be eaten with your hands, without forks, while standing up”). Because ice cream is street food, this Supreme Cart presumes that Dippin’ Dots’s ice cream should be affirmed unless we can rebut this presumption. See In re Big Cheese, 6 Catt. 2 (2012).

 III. DIPPIN’ DOTS ORIGINAL DOTS ICE CREAM

Our reader has probably come across Dippin’ Dots at an amusement park, a stadium, or another venue that attracts a youthful crowd. A serving of Dippin’ Dots – billed as “the ice cream of the future” – consists of tiny beads of ice cream. Dippin’ Dots explains that the beads are “cryogenically frozen” and the flash frozen beads must be stored at 40 degrees below zero. The bead shape allows “[k]ids (of all ages) [to] actually play with their food.” I tasted two flavors of original dots ice cream: (1) cookies ‘n cream and (2) bubble gum.

Cookies ‘n Cream

Cookies ‘n cream is vanilla beads with pieces of Oreo cookies. It tasted like classic cookies ‘n cream, but the cream was not very creamy on the tongue, since the ice cream component was broken down into many little pieces. The vanilla flavor was not very strong either. When the beads hit my tongue, I felt the coldness of the beads more than I tasted any flavor from them. The flavor came mostly from the Oreo bits. Still, I enjoyed the cookies ‘n cream. It was a different kind of ice cream and it would not be my first choice, but it wasn’t bad and I’d eat it again if it were there, and I were there, and the day were a hot one.

Bubble Gum

Bubble gum is a mix of blue, red, and yellow bubble gum. When I ordered this, I was mistakenly told that the flavor was called “rainbow” and I was unaware of its true name. As soon as I tried a spoonful, I thought to myself, “This tastes like bubble gum.” So, Dippin’ Dots nailed the bubble gum flavor. Unfortunately, the flavor was too sugary sweet and artificial for me. One bite was enough. I imagine, however, that sweet-toothed kids would appreciate it. Like the cookies ‘n cream, the bubble gum was not a very creamy ice cream. When the leftover beads in my cup melted, what remained were puddles of what looked like thin, watery (as opposed to something thick and creamy) puddles of food coloring. I suspect that the choice of ice cream ingredients, in addition to the bead shape, contributed to the less than creamy ice cream product.

IV. CONCLUSION

Dippin’ Dots was fun to try. It would not top my list of favorite frozen treats, but the reasons boil down to my personal preference for a creamier ice cream and not to any “bad” aspects of Dippin’ Dots. Because Dippin’ Dots is true street food, this Cart presumes that it should be affirmed and the Cart cannot rebut the presumption. Therefore, the case is

AFFIRMED.

JEREMY, C.J., concurring.

My God, we agree.

Reporter’s Note: The concurring opinion was not included in the first publication and was added on October 24, 2012 due to the Chief Justice’s failure to meet the publication deadline. (Apparently it takes a long time to compose four words.)

We granted cartiorari to That Cheesecake Truck (“TCT”), the mobile extension of Sweetz Cheesecake, a brick-and-mortar bakery. Cheesecake is not the preferred dessert for me or the Chief Justice. I like ice cream, and the Chief Justice is unashamedly a pie guy. Still, we have high expectations for cheesecake. I grew up in the Great State of New York, where cheesecake is creamy but dense. The Chief Justice, who has family ties in New York, similarly appreciates a dense cheesecake. When we think of cheesecake, we think of Junior’s original cheesecake. Rich and smooth. Without the fuss of any fruity or nutty mix-ins. And most importantly: dense, dense, dense. We believe that we are not alone in requiring a dense cheesecake. (Otherwise the word “cheesecake” on restaurant menus would not so often be preceded by “New York Style,” no?) So, the big question: did TCT dish out a worthy cheesecake to please the New York-style palates of the Cart Justices?

That Cheesecake Truck

 I. STREET FOOD

First, we must address our Eat Wonky test for street food, as it determines where the burden of proof lies in this proceeding. Street food is “the kind[] of food[] that can be cooked in front of you and [is] meant to be eaten with your hands, without forks, while standing up.” In re Eat Wonky (The Whoopie Pie Case), 2 Catt. 5 (2011). Baked goods are not street food. See Eat Wonky , 2 Catt. 5 (a whoopie pie is not street food); In re Dangerously Delicious Pies, 4 Catt. 4 (2011) (a pie slice is not street food); In re Sweetbites, 10 Catt. 1 (2012) (a cupcake is not street food). Because cheesecake is not street food, TCT is not entitled to the presumption that its cheesecake should be affirmed, and TCT’s cheesecake must prove on its own merits that it belongs on the street. In re Big Cheese, 6 Catt. 2 (2012).

II. PLAIN (VANILLA) CHEESECAKE

Plain Cheesecake

TCT offers individual 4-inch cheesecakes for $4 each. TCT’s menu features rotating flavors like White Chocolate Raspberry, Apple Crumb, and Marble Fudge, but we ordered a plain (vanilla) cheesecake. Just as scrambled eggs are the true test of a chef, plain cheesecake is the true test of a cheesecake baker. To answer the question posed earlier (did TCT dish out a worthy cheesecake to please the New York-style palates of the Cart Justices?), we must honestly say, “No, but yes.” Huh?

Allow me to explain in a sentence: TCT’s vanilla cheesecake was yummy, but it wasn’t cheesecake.

Now allow me to elaborate: The taste of TCT’s vanilla cheesecake was spot on – clean, light, and not too sweet. As for the textural composition of the cheesecake, the moistness was there. The creaminess was there, too. The smoothness was also there. But – and this is a big but – TCT’s version was not dense. Not even a little. Not at all. Instead, it was fluffy and airy. It felt more like a mousse than a cheesecake. The graham cracker base added to the mouthfeel confusion. The graham cracker crumble did not combine together to form a crust. It functioned more like a finely crushed topping, but on the bottom of the dessert rather than on the top.

So, no, TCT’s cheesecake did not satisfy our hunger for cheesecake. But that doesn’t mean that we didn’t enjoy TCT’s dessert. We did. As we said earlier, it was yummy. We gobbled it all up. So, yes, we liked it.

III. CONCLUSION

In the end, we have nothing bad to say about the dessert’s qualities; we just take issue with its name. It wasn’t a cheesecake. We don’t know what it was. The best we can do is offer a suggestion: If TCT were to flip the dessert over and serve it upside down, the dessert could more accurately be described as “Mousse with a Crumbled Graham Cracker Topping.” Less marketable perhaps (That Mousse with a Crumbled Graham Cracker Topping Truck?), but we’d happily get in line for it.

AFFIRMED in part and REMANDED in part to That Cheesecake Truck for revision.

JEREMY, C.J., concurring.

I absolutely concur in the conclusion of my sister’s opinion, but I must take issue with the path taken to reach it. We begin always with the text. The subject of interpretation here is the word “cheesecake,” or the concept of cheesecakeness. We must determine whether TCT’s “cheesecake” is, in fact, a “cheesecake” as that term is commonly understood.

Merriam-Webster offers two definitions for “cheesecake,” reproduced here:

(1) a dessert consisting of a creamy filling usually containing cheese baked in a pastry or pressed-crumb shell

(2) a photographic display of shapely and scantily clothed female figures – often used attributively – compare BEEFCAKE

We may safely discard the second definition, for it clearly has no relevance in this context. I have no doubt such a mobile enterprise would run afoul of several municipal ordinances. Even the most ardent textualist can agree that language is, to some degree, contextual. And so context leaves us with the first definition. TCT’s offering does meet this definition. But I would find this definition overly broad and so of little utility as it does not bother to define the all-important texture of cheesecake.

TCT may point to a 1995 treatise, which notes that “[t]he texture of any cheesecake can vary greatly—from light and airy to dense and rich to smooth and creamy.” A federal court may judicially notice a fact that is not subject to reasonable dispute because it (1) is generally known within the court’s jurisdiction; or (2) can be accurately and readily determined from sources whose accuracy cannot reasonably be questioned. In this case, we could not reasonably take judicial notice of a definition of cheesecake encompassing a so-called “light and airy” “cheesecake.” Fed. R. Evid. 201 (2011). This definition is subject to dispute and easily questioned and so must be rejected.

Another learned treatise, Wikipedia, notes that a so-called “New York-style” cheesecake “is rich and has a dense, smooth and creamy consistency.” Much as only New York-style pizza properly qualifies as “pizza,” I would find that only New York-style cheesecake qualifies as “cheesecake.” It would seem that, among gastronomic scholars, “New York-style” translates into common parlance as something akin to “good” or “true.” I would thus accept Wikipedia’s definition of a “good” and “true” cheesecake—that is, one that is “rich” and “dense.”

TCT’s offering, while delectable, was certainly not “rich” or “dense.” Therefore, I must find that it fails to meet the definition of “cheesecake” as understood by a reasonable person. Because there is a degree of false advertising in TCT’s calling its otherwise tasty offering “cheesecake,” I agree with my sister that we cannot fully affirm that offering.

We granted cartiorari to adjudicate the case of the tripletas sandwich purveyed by Borinquen Lunch Box (“BLB”), a “mobile gastronomic enterprise” operating in the District of Columbia. Per BLB’s menu, the sandwich is composed of “[r]osted [sic] pork, skirt steak, ham, lettuce, tomatoes, potatoes [sic] sticks, and [their] signature dressing served in pan sobao.”

At least outside of select metropolitan areas with their cuchifritos and the like, Puerto Rican food is oddly hard to find on the mainland, and so I was especially excited to learn of BLB’s existence and try its food. Luckily, aside from a slight misstep discussed below, BLB’s tripletas sandwich did not disappoint.

Initially, we must note the sandwich we were served was, so far as one could tell, without lettuce or tomatoes, but nor were they especially missed. We find that the omission of lettuce and tomatoes was harmless error, not requiring remand. Nevertheless, it should be noted that the remainder of this opinion addresses a lettuceless, tomatoless sandwich.

Before passing to the substance of the matter at hand, we must consider whether the tripletas sandwich constitutes “street food.” We have long held that a “sandwich” clearly constitutes “street food.” See, e.g., In re Big Cheese, 6 Catt. 2 (2012). Therefore, we must affirm unless this Supreme Cart can meet the burden of rebutting the presumption of adequacy afforded “street food.” See id. Despite a certain problem with the tripletas sandwich, noted below, we ultimately find ourselves wholly unable to rebut the presumption. Accordingly, we affirm.

Tripletas

The tripletas sandwich is composed, at its root, of three constituent parts: (1) the meat (i.e., the combination of roasted pork, skirt steak, and ham); (2) the bread; and (3) a sprinkling of potato sticks atop the dish. We address each in turn.

Meat. The meat was well textured, perfectly cooked, and salty. The combination offered a nice savoriness, but, overall, it was the saltiness that lingers in my memory. I imagine the saltiness would pair well with a cold beer, though that would present an obvious problem in the world of mobile gastronomy. (As Justices, we interpret the law. Changes in the law are, of course, best presented to the Legislature.) The sandwich does not offer, to my mind, any real complexity of flavor, but the meaty saltiness is addictive. I could easily have eaten another and another and another, but then I might explode. And then, dear reader, how would you know which truck fare to sample and which to avoid?

Bread. The pan sobao is a Puerto Rican lard-based roll. BLB’s tasted like a standard, supermarket Italian bread, but the roll was well-suited to its role in the sandwich. It was fresh, and, like a ShamWow, it soaked up the “signature dressing” and flavor of the meat.

Potato Sticks. The potato sticks were flawed. With the heat and moisture of the meat, they quickly lost any residual crunch. They were essentially flavorless. With no taste and no texture, they served no clear purpose. Luckily, because they were tasteless and textureless, they also failed to detract from the overall tripletas experience. As with the omission of lettuce and tomato, we find the inclusion of potato sticks to be harmless error, not requiring remand.

BLB’s tripletas sandwich is what street food should be. A simple, but substantial, finger food, best eaten en plein air while on the go. While we find the potato sticks to be a misstep, they are a harmless misstep in an otherwise enticing offering. We are unable to rebut the presumption of affirmance, and, therefore, BLB’s tripletas sandwich is

AFFIRMED.

CATTLEYA, J., concurring.

My taste buds completely agree with the Chief Justice’s analysis of BLB’s tripletas. I write separately because one point in the Chief Justice’s opinion reveals his arrogance, his conceit, and his selfish disdain for the taste buds of others. Had he behaved in a more gentleman-like manner, I would have been spared the need to correct him on such a taboo subject: his death.

The Chief Justice writes:

I could easily have eaten another and another and another, but then I might explode. And then, dear reader, how would you know which truck fare to sample and which to avoid?

Sir, please allow me to settle your anxiety. If the Second Circuit – indeed, the American judiciary – survived the loss of the great Learned Hand, it would surely survive your gluttonous explosion. Truly, any legal mind with competent taste buds could easily fill your shoes and help readers decide “which truck fare to sample and which to avoid.” So, Chief Justice, do not fret, and do not stop yourself from eating “another and another and another” on our account.

We granted cartiorari to Borinquen Lunch Box (“BLB”), a food truck that serves Puerto Rican cuisine. We were lured in by the indulgent description of the Tripletas, a sandwich (as the name indicates) with three types of meat — roasted pork, skirt steak, and ham — plus lettuce, tomatoes, and potato sticks. We review the Tripletas in a companion case, In re Borinquen Lunch Box (The Tripletas Case), 10 Catt. 3 (2012). In the instant case, we review a side dish. While we were standing in line to place our order, an item called alcapurrias caught the attention of our growling stomachs. BLB’s website describes alcapurrias as “beef-filled plantain fritters.”

Borinquen Lunch Box

I. STREET FOOD

We easily find that this side dish satisfies our Eat Wonky test for street food. Street food is “the kind[] of food[] that can be cooked in front of you and [is] meant to be eaten with your hands, without forks, while standing up.” In re Eat Wonky, 2 Catt. 5 (2011). If a dish qualifies as street food, then this Supreme Cart must affirm the dish, unless we rebut the presumption and show that the dish should not be served on the street. See In re Big Cheese, 6 Catt. 2 (2012). Alcapurrias, like other deep-fried finger foods (e.g., corn dogs, mozzarella sticks, onion rings, fried Oreos®, jalapeno poppers) are street food. We cannot rebut the presumption of affirmance; alcapurrias belong on the street.

II. ALCAPURRIA

Like other trucks on the street, BLB needs a little time to prepare each order, so BLB asks for your name when you place your order. This always causes a bit of a conundrum for us Justices. For the sake of order and fairness, we prefer to eat under a shroud of anonymity and so we often assume pseudonyms. On the day of our visit, the Chief Justice provided the name “George.” You can see where BLB wrote “George” on our takeaway bag. (I was “Barbara.” This was a little more subtle than the day when the Chief Justice was “Sonny” and I was “Cher.”) See also In re Bada Bing, 5 Catt. 2 (2012) (also providing a false name to preserve anonymity).

Alcapurria

To begin, we note that despite the use of the plural on BLB’s online menu (saying “Alcapurrias” and “fritters”), BLB only serves one fritter per order. The attentive reader might catch on to this from reading the menu on the side of BLB’s truck, which describes “alcapurrias” (plural) as “green banana fritter stuffed with beef” (singular) (emphasis added). I was not reading carefully that day, so I was disappointed when there was only one alcapurria in our bag.

The verdict? The alcapurria was good — not great, but most certainly not bad. The ground beef filling was seasoned mildly. The resulting flavor was tasty, but nothing too very far from what salt and pepper achieves. The plantain fritter was thick and chewy. It contributed little to the flavor; its job was to contain the meat filling, which it did rather nicely (it did not crumble and fall apart in the hands). Unsurprisingly, given its deep-fried nature, this side dish was on the heavy side. Not an everyday item, that is for sure.

Although the Cart ultimately affirms BLB’s alcapurria, we also suggest an improvement. The alcapurria had one taste (the ground beef) and one overall texture (the combined softness of the ground beef and doughy fritter). An accompanying condiment, such as a hot sauce, would do much to enhance the eating experience. A fruity sauce might even do. Although the Chief Justice and I are skeptical of fruit-based sauces, it has been done well. See In re El Floridano, 2 Catt. 2 (2011) (excellent use of spicy guava sauce).

III. CONCLUSION

At $3, BLB’s alcapurria is a decent snack or appetizer. Its flavor is not out of the ordinary or particularly striking — it could even be improved with a condiment to deepen the flavor. But it satisfies the stomach in the way that other deep-fried goodies tend to be satisfying: it’s hot, filling, greasy, and comforting.

AFFIRMED in part and REMANDED in part to Borinquen Lunch Box for revision.

JEREMY, C.J., concurring.

I concur in my sister’s relatively sound opinion. I would only note that, once again, she fails to first address the text before reaching her conclusion. She prefers instead, it would seem, to invoke spirit and assumptions, in the tradition of Church of the Holy Trinity v. United States, 143 U.S. 457 (1892). So it was in this Cart’s decision in In re China Garden, 5 Catt. 1 (2012), and so it is here. My sister notes that an order of alcapurrias was described as a “green banana fritter [singular] stuffed with beef” and yet expected multiple fritters. I will admit that there is some ambiguity in the text to be construed, but that ambiguity is easily resolved in favor of the singular. In her defense, she writes that she “was not reading carefully that day.” But I am beginning to notice a disturbing trend in my sister’s jurisprudence: under scrutiny, her process of interpretation crumbles like the ground beef filling of a green banana fritter. I concur, but I must note also my disapproval.

The Chief Justice’s law clerk – no doubt under the instructions of the Chief Justice – sent to my chambers a newspaper article called “Forget cupcakes — pies are hot.”[1] Knowing as I do of the Chief Justice’s well-documented love for pie and hatred for cupcakes, his message was clear. The Supreme Cart had recently granted a writ of cartiorari, sua sponte, to review Sweetbites, a mobile café that serves cupcakes, and he regretted it. Well, Mr. Chief Justice, too bad. You of all persons should be aware of Rule of Procedure 2-2(b), which states that no grant of cartiorari “shall be subject to appeal or further review by this or any other tribunal.” Therefore, cartiorari is granted to Sweetbites on the question of its red velvet cupcake.

I. Chief Justice’s Recusal

First, I begin by calling upon the Chief Justice to recuse himself in this case. I trust that he will do so without any objection. Under 28 USC § 455, “[a]ny justice, judge, or magistrate judge of the United States shall disqualify himself in any proceeding in which his impartiality might reasonably be questioned.” If he is tempted to sit for this case, I gently remind him of his words in In re Dangerously Delicious Pies, 4 Catt. 4 (2011), a case in which we reviewed a mobile maker of his most beloved dessert, the pie. He stated, “[S]hould the case of any cupcake truck come before this Cart, I vow now, given my severe aversion to cupcakeries, to recuse myself.” Id. Mr. Chief Justice, you may do so now.

The Chief Justice has gotten it into his head that I, too, should recuse myself. He cites the same case, Dangerously Delicious Pies, as his support. Particularly, he points to my concurring opinion:

I list here, in advance, the elements that I look for in a cupcake: 1) a moist cake; 2) a buttercream frosting (fondant icing will never do); 3) a good cake-frosting ratio; and 4) a comforting flavor, like red velvet or chocolate hazelnut.

Dangerously Delicious Pies, 4 Catt. 4 (Cattleya, J., concurring). The Chief Justice points to my words as evidence that my impartiality is in question. To that I say: Pfui! It will be obvious to the reader that my words do not reflect any personal bias or prejudice. Saying that I will judge a cupcake by the moistness of its cake, creaminess of its frosting, and deliciousness of its flavor is merely a very, very specific way of saying that I will judge the cupcake by the standards of justice and fairness.

The Chief Justice calls for my recusal on other grounds as well. He has accused me of having a personal relationship with the party to this case. He describes an incident that I do not deny. One day, many months before this Cart granted cartiorari to Sweetbites, I was walking by the Sweetbites truck, which was parked in a metered parking space. The owner, having spotted me as the person closest to her truck at that very moment, handed me a couple of quarters and asked me to put them in the parking meter for her. I did, as any good Samaritan would have done. This interaction, which lasted no more than a few seconds, did not create a personal relationship and does not impair my ability to hear this case. Therefore, I do not recuse myself.

Sweetbites

II. Street Food

Like other baked goods that have come before the Supreme Cart, Sweetbites’s cupcake is not street food. See Dangerously Delicious Pies, 4 Catt. 4; In re Eat Wonky (The Whoopie Pie Case), 2 Catt. 5 (2011). As we have stated time and time again, street food is “the kind[] of food[] that can be cooked in front of you and [is] meant to be eaten with your hands, without forks, while standing up.” Eat Wonky, 2 Catt. 5. Because a cupcake is not street food, Sweetbites has the burden to prove that its cupcake belongs on the street. See In re Big Cheese, 6 Catt. 2 (2012).

III. Red Velvet Cupcake

Red Velvet Cupcake

Sweetbites describes its version of a red velvet cupcake as “extra smooth, extra rich and extra velvety, topped with luscious just-sweet-enough vanilla buttercream frosting.” Sweetbites does not lie. Its red velvet cupcake checked off all the boxes on my list:

1) A moist cake.

The cake was light and fluffy, and its freshness was evident. This cupcake did not come from a huge batch that was baked days and days ago and has been aging on a shelf.

2)  Buttercream frosting.

No fondant here! The sweet, creamy frosting was airy and balanced the rich flavor of the cake.

3) A good cake-frosting ratio.

The cake was topped with enough frosting that I couldn’t take a bite without getting a little smear of frosting on the tip of my nose. At the same time, there was not too much frosting; I did not feel like I  had gotten a serving of frosting with a small side of cake.

4) A comforting flavor, like red velvet.

Red velvet is a popular flavor at present. (Even IHOP has turned it into a pancake flavor. There’s also a brick-and-mortar cupcakery named Red Velvet in the area.) Sweetbites does not unnecessarily tinker with this tried and true flavor. It does the red velvet flavor faithfully, and it does it well.

IV. CONCLUSION

Sweetbites’s red velvet cupcake does not disappoint. At $3, it’s priced comparably with other mobile and immobile cupcakeries. Curbside Cupcakes (another cupcake truck) likewise charges $3 per cupcake, and Red Velvet (a brick-and-mortar bakery) charges a bit more at $3.25 per cupcake. Although $3 may seem like a high price for a small baked good, it’s worth it if you don’t want to bake your own batch of cupcakes and you’re just looking for a once-in-a-while treat.

AFFIRMED.

[1] The newspaper article appeared in the Los Angeles Times. Los Angeles, California is outside the Supreme Cart’s jurisdiction, which is limited to (a) Arlington, Virginia, (b) DC, and (c) Alexandria, Virginia. In addition, the article was published in the beginning of 2011, well over one year ago. For these reasons and others, the newspaper article was easily dismissed as unpersuasive and, in fact, completely irrelevant.

No. 44. Borinquen Lunch Box. Cartiorari granted on the questions of (1) Alcapurrias and (2) Tripletas.

No. 45. That Cheesecake Truck. Cartiorari granted on the question of plain cheesecake.

No. 46. Dippin’ Dots. Cartiorari granted on the questions of whether (1) cookies ‘n cream ice cream and (2) bubble gum ice cream are within the jurisdiction of the Cart.

How does one go about judging one of those all-too-classic half-smoke-hot-dog-egg-roll-pizza trucks that line Independence and Constitution Avenues, gilding the frame of the Mall with their hand-painted yellow signs? How does one go about judging one of those grandmothers and grandfathers of the food-truck scene, one of those vessels of a fleet which once comprised the entirety of the food-truck scene?

Surely, one does not judge such an establishment by the same standards one would use for one of the new guard. One doesn’t say, for example, that its half-smoke is not nearly peppery enough, or, alternatively, that the pepperiness overpowers.

No.

Street Vendor near National Mall

One doesn’t say that its egg roll is too big, too greasy, too inauthentic an offering, too Americanized. No.

One doesn’t say that its service was found wanting or that the price of its fare was surprisingly low or unfairly high. No.

You accept the truck, respect the truck, revere it, as you would Antoine’s, Delmonico’s, the Union Oyster House, the Old Ebbitt Grill, Joe’s Stone Crab, or any of the timeless dinosaurs of other food scenes.

Half-Smoke

In this case, we must do just that, without needless argumentation.

Our jurisdiction is limited to the “mobile gastronomic enterprise.” But it is all too clear that that definition of our jurisdiction includes that enterprise now before us. Even Publius admitted as much in Federalist No. 78.

In a line of cases, we have established what constitutes “street food.” See, e.g., In re Eat Wonky (The Whoopie Pie Case), 2 Catt. 5 (2011). But we needn’t restate that test here. It is simply too clear that D.C.’s original, proven street food—the noble half-smoke and her friends—constitutes “street food,” however that phrase may be defined by this Cart. Indeed no definition of “street food” that did not consider the offerings of these mobile gastronomic enterprises could properly be adopted by this Cart.

Egg Roll

Finally, where a mobile gastronomic enterprise’s dish constitutes street food, we must affirm unless the presumption of affirmance is rebutted. In re Big Cheese, 6 Catt. 2 (2012). But, of course, we could never hope to meet the burden of proving otherwise, or deciding that the case could be remanded on the ordinary grounds. Justice and, I daresay, plain and simple propriety demand that a randomly-selected, Mall-adjacent, yellow-signed, half-smoke-hot-dog-egg-roll-pizza truck be, by this Cart, wholeheartedly

AFFIRMED.

CATTLEYA, J., concurring.

We must affirm unless this Cart is to reject a long-standing tradition of street food in the District of Columbia. The question is not whether the half-smoke and egg roll were good, but whether the half-smoke and egg roll are true street food. They are, and there is nothing more to consider.

We granted cartiorari to Sol Mexican Grill on the questions of three varieties of taco: (1) steak with red sauce (hot), (2) chicken with green sauce (medium), and (3) carnitas with red sauce, each ensconced in corn tortillas and paired with pico de gallo.

Ordering at Sol is a multistep process. First, you must choose (1) three tacos, (2) two burritos, or (3) one bowl. Each costs a reasonable $7.00. We opted for the first choice: three tacos. Second, you must choose your principal filling. We opted for one steak, one chicken, and one carnitas. Third, you must choose your toppings. We opted for pico de gallo in each taco, and paired the steak and carnitas with spicier red sauce and the chicken with the milder green sauce.

The ordering process was hectic, and service was somewhat lacking, but, as a general rule, I care very little about service if the product is decent. Sol’s product was at least decent, and so there will be no more discussion of service.

Sol Mexican Grill

As an initial matter, we must decide whether tacos are “street food,” which we have defined as “the kind[] of food[] that can be cooked in front of you and [is] meant to be eaten with your hands, without forks, while standing up.” In re Eat Wonky, 2 Catt. 5 (2011). If a mobile gastronomic enterprise’s dish constitutes street food, we must affirm unless the presumption of affirmance is rebutted. In re Big Cheese, 6 Catt. 2 (2012).

In a recent case, we found that the burrito is properly considered “street food.” In re Pedro and Vinny’s, 9 Catt. 2 (2012). A taco is, in some ways, a small burrito. Therefore, for the same reasons that burritos are street food, we find that a taco is also street food. Therefore, Sol’s tacos must be affirmed unless this Supreme Cart finds the presumption of affirmance to be rebutted. The Cart finds the presumption not to be rebutted and therefore affirms.

Corn tortilla tacos with steak, chicken, and carnitas

All three meats—steak, chicken, carnitas—were well cooked. The steak had a welcome chewiness without being tough. The chicken and especially the carnitas were tender, almost buttery. All meats were well seasoned and sufficiently flavorful, which is more than can be said for similar enterprises in the metroplex. Cf. In re TaKorean, 1 Catt. 4 (2011). You could certainly taste the meats through the sauces, pico de gallo, and corn tortillas, which, again, is more than can be said for other, similar enterprises. Cf. id.

Both sauces—the spicier red and the milder green—were flavorful. Both were rather simple sauces but by no means one-note. The red was spicy, but there was some flavor behind the heat. The green tasted fresh and herby. The red complemented the steak and carnitas, and the green complemented the chicken, adding flavor and complexity without overpowering the palate.

The pico de gallo, which we added to all three tacos, was a standard pico de gallo—tomatoes, onion, etc.—but tasted quite fresh. It paired nicely with all three tacos.

Sol is by no means unique or original or extraordinary. It does what it does—street tacos—fast and well without trying to reinvent the wheel and without unnecessary gimmicks or hype. For these reasons, we find that we cannot rebut the presumption of affirmance and therefore affirm Sol’s tacos.

AFFIRMED.

CATTLEYA, J., concurring.

I concur with my brother’s reasoning in this case. Indeed, Sol makes a decent taco. I tasted no major mistakes. The meats were prepared well, the pico de gallo was fresh, and the corn tortillas weren’t stale. If you’re craving tacos when your lunch hour hits, I recommend giving Sol a try. On the other hand, if you’re looking for a meal that will leave a memory behind, that will surprise your palate with something new and different, that will make you mentally add the meal’s maker to your “must-try foods” list . . . well, then you ought to keep walking when you spot Sol near the curb. Admittedly, there are not many gastronomic enterprises – mobile or immobile – that fit this bill. So, setting the bar a bit lower, if you’re just looking for a meal that will fill you up and keep you satisfied until dinner, Sol’s tacos aren’t for you.

On a sunny Spring afternoon, we granted cartiorari to Sinplicity under Rule of Procedure 2-2 by making a sua sponte appearance at its truck. Sinplicity is a maker of hand-crafted ice creams and sorbets. I have been very open about my love of frozen treats, and the Chief Justice was willing to try Sinplicity’s desserts, since they were not cupcakes. See In re Dangerously Delicious Pies, 4 Catt. 4 (2011) (Jeremy, C.J.) (“[S]hould the case of any cupcake truck come before this Cart, I vow now, given my severe aversion to cupcakeries, to recuse myself.”) Thus with no obstacles in our way, we lined up for Sinplicity’s artisan creations.

Sinplicity

 I. SINPLICITY

Sinplicity asserts that its ice creams are “sinply” different. It explains that it “pasteurize[s] [its] own ice cream mixes from fresh local dairy products.” Everything is “cooked entirely in house,” and there are “no compounds or extracts” in the recipes (except for a little vanilla extract). The mixes are made in a gelato machine. This results in a product that’s a mix between gelato and ice cream: gelato’s flavor and texture with ice cream’s high fat content.

Speaking of the fat content, Sinplicity does not hide the fact that it’s selling a treat. It bills its frozen creations as “special occasion stuff” and “self-indulgence territory.” It tells the eater that “you don’t want to know” the nutritional information. For those that really do want to know, Sinplicty provides calorie counts. Averaging its most popular flavors, Sinplicity’s website says that one scoop of ice cream is 290 calories (150 from fat) and one scoop of sorbet is 120 calories (0 from fat).

II. STREET FOOD

Under our common law, a presumption arises that the Supreme Cart must affirm any “street food” that comes off a food truck. Street food is “the kind[] of food[] that can be cooked in front of you and [is] meant to be eaten with your hands, without forks, while standing up.” In re Eat Wonky (The Whoopie Pie Case), 2 Catt. 5 (2011). If a food truck’s offering constitutes street food, then we must affirm unless we can meet the burden to rebut the presumption. In re Big Cheese, 6 Catt. 2 (2012).

Ice creams and sorbets are street food. Although they’re usually scooped (not cooked) in front of you, and although they may be eaten with a spoon, they can be eaten while standing up. Not every prong of the Eat Wonky test must be strictly met, as the test “is not intended to affirmatively define the entire class of ‘street food,’ but is rather intended only to be a multifactor test to guide and direct our analysis.” In re Hot People Food (The Hot People Dumplings Case), 6 Catt. 4 (2012). As further evidence that ice cream is true street food, we note that mobile food trucks in the District of Columbia currently operate according to a 35-year-old law intended for ice cream trucks. Thus, historically, ice cream has been sold and eaten on the street.

Because ice creams and sorbets are street food, we must affirm Sinplicity’s frozen treats unless we rebut the preumption of affirmance. We “sinply” cannot meet this burden.

III. REVIEW

In the name of justice, we Justices put our prepare-for-summer diets aside and ordered two scoops (one ice cream flavor, and one sorbet flavor) for $5. We chose (1) Cappuccino Crunch ice cream with Chocolate Covered Almonds and Amaretto and (2) Lemon-Ginger Sorbet with Spiced Jamaican Rum. These flavors are from Sinplicity’s classic, “always available” menu. Not all of Sinplicity’s flavors include alcohol, but a good many of them do (apparently alcohol softens the ice creams). Unexpectedly, we found that Sinplicity serves its frozen creations with a piece of biscotti.

Cappuccino Crunch Ice Cream & Lemon-Ginger Sorbet

Sinplicity’s Cappuccino Crunch ice cream was worth the calories and fat. Although I am not a coffee drinker, I enjoy coffee-based desserts. The espresso flavor was strong and addicting. The kick of amaretto was not shy and added a little bitterness. The result was a flavorful taste that was not overly sweet. The chocolate covered almonds provided a crunchy nibble to break up the softness. Texturally, the ice cream was thick and creamy. Even as I neared the bottom of the cup, the ice cream held up and did not melt into a messy puddle.

The Lemon-Ginger sorbet was excellent and came with less guilt for the waistline. Texturally, the sorbet was more creamy than icy. The ginger spice was added in perfectly. It was neither too strong nor overpowering in flavor against the lemon. The rum added a pleasing zing. The overall flavor was refreshing and worked well as a post-lunch palate cleanser.

The biscotti was a nice addition. It was plain—no fussy nuts or spices. However, it by no means lacked flavor. This was a case where simple was better. The biscotti had a very buttery taste and reminded me of shortbread. The texture was what one would expect from a twice-baked biscuit. It was hard and crunchy, and it required the use of my side teeth to bite into it. The crunchy biscotti made the experience of eating Sinplicity’s frozen creations even better.

IV. CONCLUSION

Sinplicity was a real treat to eat under the sun on a warm afternoon. The flavors were thoughtfully developed and perfectly executed. I could practically taste the care that went into the making. I was happy to become a “Sinner” that day. I’m even happier that Sinplicity has a “Frequent Sinner” card (buy ten, and get one free). I’ll be back again when I deserve to enter “self-indulgence territory” for some “special occasion stuff.”

AFFIRMED.

JEREMY, C.J., concurring.

I concur heartily in my sister’s cogent opinion. Sinplicity is indeed a tasty treat for a balmy D.C. day; sin has never been so sinfully delicious. I have but one question not answered at oral argument: Is “Cappuccino Crunch” (read: “Cap . . . n . . . Crunch”) a thinly veiled reference to that delightful childhood treat, Cap’n Crunch? If so, I approve, even despite my strong preference for Count Chocula and his bat-shaped marshmallows.

To achieve greater justice in the matter before the Cart, my brother and I visited Pedro and Vinny’s (P&V) on separate occasions. Ever mindful that a food cart’s quality can vary from day to day, we wanted to minimize a Cart opinion based on an unusually bad day or an unusually good day.

My visit took place one afternoon when I spotted the burrito cart on the sidewalk across the street from Chipotle in Ballston. P&V has two carts run by a father-and-daughter team. The father, John, operates the first cart on K Street in DC. The daughter, Kristin, set up the second cart for a time in Ballston, but she recently moved to a new location in Crystal City. I had heard about the burrito cart from my new law clerk, who informed me that P&V’s vegetarian burrito had been named one of the best burritos in the country last year.

Although I am not a vegetarian, I somehow usually walk out of Chipotle with a rice, cheese, and sour cream burrito. As no stranger to a meatless (not to mention beanless) burrito, I figured a visit to P&V for a vegetarian burrito would be a nice change of pace.

Pedro and Vinny’s

I. THE CUSTOMER EXPERIENCE

Upon my arrival, I learned that P&V had added chicken to the menu, but I stuck to my vegetarian plan. Ordering a burrito from P&V involved quite a few decisions. Kristin walked me through the steps:

1. There’s the choice of tortilla—flour, wheat, tomato, spinach.
2. Cheese or no cheese? (Kristin needed to know this first in order to warm up the tortilla and melt the cheese. The cheese is a cheddar-jack mix.)
3. Then there’s the size: small, medium, large? (The medium and large come with rice.)
4. Chicken—yes or no?
5. Black beans, pinto beans, or both (a.k.a. “black & tan”).
6. Pico de gallo? Sour cream? Guacamole?
7. What kind of hot sauce—fruity or non-fruity? how hot?

I opted for a medium burrito: flour tortilla with cheese, black & tan beans, pico de gallo, sour cream, and guacamole. After sampling a few sauces and getting some recommendations from Kristin, I chose a cilantro habanero over a mango sauce. Given my aversion to cilantro, see In re Salt and Pepper Grill, 6 Catt. 1 (2012), this might come as a surprise, but less so if one considers that I also share my brother’s aversion to fruity sauces, see In re El Floridano, 2 Catt. 2 (2011). My law clerk later informed me that in P&V speak, my burrito order should have sounded something like “flour, cheese, black & tan, with everything, spice level 7, non-fruity.”

Making the burrito

To assemble the burrito, Kristin placed the tortilla on a round pizza tray; piled rice, beans, and pico de gallo down the middle; and then used a spatula to spread smears of sour cream and guacamole, one to the right and the other to the left. Hot sauce was drizzled on top before it was all rolled together.

As Kristin wrapped up my burrito in foil, she told me to drop my $20 bill into a Tory Burch shoe box and to “help myself to change.” This was the first honor-system style of payment that I’ve come across during my term as a Cart Justice, and I applaud it (since the hands handling the food should not also be handling the money). A medium vegetarian burrito with guacamole came out to $6.25. Next to the Tory Burch shoebox was a box of complimentary York Peppermint Patties. I always appreciate food carts and trucks that throw in a little sweet. See, e.g., In re Hot People Food, 6 Catt. 4 (2012) (providing a piece of guava-flavored hard candy).

II. STREET FOOD

We have defined street food as “the kind[] of food[] that can be cooked in front of you and [is] meant to be eaten with your hands, without forks, while standing up.” In re Eat Wonky (The Whoopie Pie Case), 2 Catt. 5 (2011). If a food cart’s dish constitutes street food, then this Supreme Cart must affirm unless we can meet the burden to rebut the presumption of affirmance. In re Big Cheese, 6 Catt. 2 (2012).

This Cart finds that a burrito is street food for the same reasons that sandwiches are street food. See In re Red Hook Lobster Pound (The Shrimp Roll Case), 9 Catt. 1 (2012); In re Willie’s Po Boy, 7 Catt. 4 (2012); In re NY Famous Kabob, 7 Catt. 3 (2012); In re Rolling Ficelle, 6 Catt. 3 (2012); Big Cheese, 6 Catt. 2. Therefore, P&V’s burrito  must be affirmed unless this Supreme Cart can meet the burden to rebut the presumption afforded to street food. This Cart rebuts the presumption of affirmance.

III. VEGETARIAN BURRITO WITH GUACAMOLE

Vegetarian Burrito with Guacamole

When Kristin handed me the burrito, I immediately appreciated the weight. A P&V burrito—even the medium size—is pretty large. The weight promised a very filling lunch. Unfortunately, although I was full after eating my burrito, I was not completely satisfied with the meal.

The burrito was not tightly wrapped, so guacamole, pico de gallo, and beans oozed out. It made for messy eating.

Some bites of the burrito were quite tasty, but most were bland. The rice and beans were mushy and lacked flavor. On the other hand, the guacamole and sour cream were fresh and delicious. Bites that included these toppings were enjoyable, but since they were smeared on the sides of the tortilla (rather than in the middle), not every bite included them.

Finally, I couldn’t taste the hot sauce. Several more splashes would have gone a long way towards adding a flavorful kick.

Towards the last few bites, all that remained of my burrito was a sloppy mix of flavorless rice and beans. Very occasionally I am met with a meal that, despite my dislike of wasting food, just isn’t worth finishing. This was such an occasion. See also In re Dangerously Delicious Pies, 4 Catt. 4 (2011); In re Sâuçá, 4 Catt. 3 (2011); In re CapMac (The Classic CapMac’n Cheese Case), 1 Catt. 1 (2011).

IV. CONCLUSION

At P&V, I got a filling burrito at an affordable price from a food cart that strives to provide a good customer experience. Although P&V used fresh ingredients, the finished product was disappointing. Perhaps, after hearing about USA Today’s “best burrito” review, I approached P&V with hopes that were too high.

REMANDED to Pedro and Vinny’s for revision.

Before the Cart is Red Hook Lobster Pound (“RHLP”), a food truck that is known on the street for its pricey lobster rolls. This food truck is no stranger to the Cart—we have already spilled ink on the topic of the $15 roll. See In re Red Hook Lobster Pound, 2 Catt. 1 (2011). In that opinion, we noted that RHLP’s menu also featured an $8 shrimp roll. We quickly dismissed the option, however. “[N]o one in their right mind orders shrimp over lobster,” we said. Id. Well, I was not in my right mind one afternoon, and I ordered the shrimp roll. (Actually, my mind was not “wrong.” It was just all too aware of my many expenses for the month, such as paying my newly-hired law clerk.)

Red Hook Lobster Pound

The first draft of my review of RHLP’s shrimp roll was very short. “It was good,” I wrote, “but it was not lobster.” I discarded that draft because it wasn’t fair. It was like comparing apples with oranges, steamed tofu with chicken fried steak, Carrot Top with Tupac, Wuthering Heights with Pride and Prejudice. It was also doing a disservice to those who wanted a real review of RHLP’s shrimp roll and wouldn’t be satisfied with “Take your $8, eat peanut butter and jelly one day to save another $7, and then treat yourself to a lobster roll.”

So I offer to you, loyal reader, my real review of the lobster roll’s oft-ignored cousin, the shrimp roll. To make the shrimp filling, RHLP tosses wild Maine shrimp in a homemade garlic tarragon mayonnaise. The sweet pieces of Maine shrimp were tiny (less than an inch long), but wonderfully sweet. The mayo dressing was lightly applied and didn’t hide the freshness of the shrimp. The taste of tarragon was evident, but it was not overpowering as often occurs with the intensely-flavored herb.

Shrimp Roll

Although the shrimp filling was executed quite well, the bread left a stronger impression with me. I have previously raved about RHLP’s bread. See Red Hook Lobster Pound, 2 Catt. 1 (Cattleya, J., concurring). I wrote, “The buttered bread developed perfect grill marks and a toasty outside, leaving behind a slightly crisp layer into which my teeth could sink with satisfaction. At the same time, the bread was just thick enough so that the inside was still soft and pillowy.”Id. Luckily for me (and for you), the bread is the same whether you order the lobster or shrimp roll. Again, there was the delicious buttery taste . . . the toasted exterior . . . the pillowy interior. Just thinking about it makes my mouth water! (The attentive reader will by now have noticed how easily satisfied I am by a great piece of bread. See, e.g., In re Lemongrass, 7 Catt. 1 (2012); In re Rolling Ficelle, 6 Catt. 3 (2012).)

The bottom line is that RHLP’s shrimp roll was good . . . but it was not lobster. (Yeah, yeah, I know what I just did there. See supra.) The shrimp roll did not knock my knee high socks off like the lobster roll did. I would be lying if I said that I hadn’t been thinking about the lobster roll while I was eating the shrimp roll. (And by “thinking” I mean “wishing that I had gotten the lobster roll.”) But if I were living in a world where RHLP’s lobster roll didn’t exist, I would be quite happy to share my lunch break with the shrimp roll.

A note about the portion and price: At $8, RHLP’s shrimp roll is comparably priced to other sandwiches on the street. See, e.g., In re Willie’s Po Boy, 7 Catt. 4 (2012) ($9 crawfish sandwich); Lemongrass, 7 Catt. 1 ($7.50 pork sandwich); In re El Floridano, 2 Catt. 2 (2011) ($7 pork sandwich); Rolling Ficelle, 6 Catt. 3 ($6.95 ham sandwich); In re Bada Bing, 5 Catt. 2 (2012) ($6.50 chicken sandwich). But unlike some of these sandwiches, the shrimp roll will leave you hungry. That’s not to say that the shrimp roll isn’t worth its price tag. It is. It’s just that you might find yourself standing in front of the vending machine at 3:30pm. (If you do and can’t decide while you’re staring at the rows of salty snacks and sweet candy, may I suggest Cheetos or Cheez-Its? They’re my personal favorites.)

I will now address an issue that I should have addressed at the beginning of this opinion. (I can feel the Chief Justice rolling his eyes at my oversight.) When reviewing a food truck’s offerings, this Supreme Cart determines whether the offering is “street food.” Street food is “the kind[] of food[] that can be cooked in front of you and [is] meant to be eaten with your hands, without forks, while standing up.” In re Eat Wonky (The Whoopie Pie Case), 2 Catt. 5 (2011). Street food is entitled to the presumption that it should be affirmed by this court. In re Big Cheese, 6 Catt. 2 (2012). It is well-settled that sandwiches, under which category the shrimp roll fits, is street food. See Willie’s Po Boy, 7 Catt. 4; Rolling Ficelle, 6 Catt. 3; Big Cheese, 6 Catt. 2. Therefore, RHLP is entitled to the presumption that its shrimp roll should be affirmed by the Cart. But, as should be clear by the reasons stated in this opinion, even without this presumption, RHLP’s shrimp roll—on its own merits—would be affirmed.

AFFIRMED. It is so ordered.

No. 39. Pedro and Vinny’s. Cartiorari granted on the question of vegetarian burrito.

No. 40. Sinplicity. Cartiorari granted on the questions of (1) Cappuccino Crunch ice cream with Chocolate Covered Almonds and Amaretto and (2) Lemon-Ginger sorbet with Spiced Jamaican Rum.

No. 41. Sol Mexican Grill. Cartiorari granted on the questions of corn tortilla tacos with (1) steak, (2) chicken, and (3) carnitas.

No. 42.  Street Vendor Near National Mall. Cartiorari granted on the questions of (1) half-smoke and (2) egg roll.

Pupatella is a Neapolitan pizzeria and friggitoria located in Arlington, VA. It is a brick-and-mortar restaurant. However, Pupatella started out as a pizza cart in the Ballston neighborhood. The issue before this Supreme Cart is whether the court has jurisdiction over a brick-and-mortar restaurant that was once a food cart.

The Judiciary Act of 2011 (Cartiorari Act) grants the Supreme Cart “exclusive jurisdiction of all food carts, trucks, and other transitory alimentary establishments within those portions of the District of Columbia or the part thereof retroceded to the Commonwealth of Virginia.”

Rule of Procedure 1-2 explains that the Cart’s jurisdiction “extends to all mobile gastronomic enterprises situated throughout those parts of (a) the County of Arlington, Virginia, (b) the District of Columbia, and (c) the City of Alexandria, Virginia, which are reasonably proximate to public transportation of a reasonably rapid and efficient character.”

On their face, these provisions do not provide a clear answer to the question before the court. No explicit temporal limitations are to be found in the words of our guiding legislation or rules. Neither does our case law provide a clear answer. Our first jurisdictional opinion, In re China Garden, 5 Catt. 1 (2012), involved a food cart that was currently in operation. We were not asked to determine whether we had jurisdiction over a defunct food cart that now operates as a brick-and-mortar restaurant. So does this Supreme Cart have jurisdiction over all food carts now operating in our region, or over any food cart that at some point operated in our region?

Pupatella

This Cart does not have jurisdiction over a brick-and-mortar restaurant that once operated as a food cart. This is an issue of timing. For this Cart to exercise judicial power over the case of a food cart, the case must not be moot. This means that the food cart in question must be in operation during all stages of the Cart’s review. If a food cart is not in operation when its case comes before the court, then there are no culinary offerings for this Cart to eat and judge.

But what if the brick-and-mortar restaurant serves the same culinary offerings as it did when it operated as a food cart? Would the Cart not then have something to eat and judge? The answer is that this would not change the answer. The former food cart, now brick-and-mortar restaurant could not be reviewed by this Cart.

Even assuming that Pupatella serves the same pizzas with the same ingredients and the same styles of preparation as it did when it was a food cart, the resulting slices would not necessarily be the same. For example, it is conceivable that one could get a warmer and gooey-er pizza slice if it arrived to one’s table at a brick-and-mortar restaurant a few seconds after coming out of a 1000-degree, wood-fired oven. If food prepared in the same truck can be different from day to day, see, e.g., In re Bada Bing, 5 Catt. 2 (2012), then surely food served off a food truck can be different from its reincarnation in a brick-and-mortar restaurant.

Pizza Classica

Today, we hold that the jurisdiction of this Supreme Cart does not extend to a brick-and-mortar restaurant that previously operated as a food cart. Pupatella is outside this court’s jurisdiction, and we may not review its dishes. However, we leave open the question of whether this court’s jurisdiction extends to a brick-and-mortar restaurant that concurrently operates a food cart. We note that there are several such businesses in the region. For example, Sâuçá has a food truck, District Taco has a food cart, District of Pi has a food truck, and Amorini Panini has a food truck. This is a question for another day.

DISMISSED.

JEREMY, C.J., dissenting.

Once again, as in China Garden, my sister’s cramped and arbitrary interpretation serves only to “remove[] from our jurisdiction an entire class of cases and controversies that now may find no tribunal in which to be heard.” Such interpretation can go by one name only: judicial activism. To say it smacks of Lochner is no exaggeration.

As my sister writes, the Judiciary Act of 2011 (Cartiorari Act) grants the Supreme Cart “exclusive jurisdiction of all food carts, trucks, and other transitory alimentary establishments within those portions of the District of Columbia or the part thereof retroceded to the Commonwealth of Virginia.” Rule of Procedure 1-2 explains that our jurisdiction “extends to all mobile gastronomic enterprises situated throughout those parts of (a) the County of Arlington, Virginia, (b) the District of Columbia, and (c) the City of Alexandria, Virginia, which are reasonably proximate to public transportation of a reasonably rapid and efficient character.”

My sister writes that “[t]oday, we hold that the jurisdiction of this Supreme Cart does not extend to a brick-and-mortar restuarant that previously operated as a food cart” (emphasis added). She specifically leaves open the question of whether the Cart’s jurisdiction “extends to a brick-and-mortar restaurant that concurrently operates a food cart” (emphasis in original). She states that this is “a question for another day.”

I am afraid my sister is badly mistaken. This is precisely the question before the Cart today. I would interpret the phrases “transitory alimentary establishment” and “mobile gastronomic enterprise” to include those establishments and enterprises which operate food carts, trucks, etc., even should they also purvey their offerings from immobile, brick-and-mortar structures.

Having so concluded, I feel I must conclude further that Pupatella—though it now operates only from an immobile, brick-and-mortar structure—comes within our jurisdiction. Because we would have had jurisdiction over its truck while it was still extant, it follows that we have continuing jurisdiction over the brick-and-mortar structure operated as part of the same “establishment” or “enterprise.”

My sister inserts some vague notion of “temporality” into the texts of the Cartiorari Act and Rule of Procedure 1-2. Perhaps my vision fails me, but I see no explicit phrase, either in the text of the Cartiorari Act or in that of Rule of Procedure 1-2, that would serve to limit the extent of our jurisdiction on the basis of time. It is a guiding principle of this Cart, as it is with the other federal courts, that, had Congress wished to so limit the extent of our jurisdiction, it would have done so explicitly. See, e.g., Hamdan v. Rumsfeld, 548 U.S. 557 (2006). Accordingly, I would hold that, because jurisdiction would clearly have been established had this case come before us at an earlier time, this Cart continues to have jurisdiction, irrespective of uncertain and supposedly implied notions of “temporality.” Instead of dismissing, I would thus proceed to judgment. Sadly, my sister’s decision for the Cart artificially precludes, at least for the time being, our further consideration of this case of significant importance. This is a sad day for Justice, indeed.

Smithsonian magazine recently compiled a list of the twenty best food trucks in the United States. From the region within this Supreme Cart’s jurisdiction, one made the list: fojol bros. of Merlindia (“FB”). After reading Smithsonian’s list, I rushed over to FB’s truck to see what the hoopla was all about.

FB is “a traveling culinary carnival” with three separate trucks from “distant lands”: Indian food from Merlindia, Ethiopian food from Benethiopia, and Thai food from Volathai. Following its “carnival” vision, the folks aboard the trucks wear mustaches and colorful costumes. A hula hoop even leaned against the truck’s side, waiting for anyone who wanted to try it. FB is clearly having a good time, but did its food live up to its creative concept?

fojol bros.

My culinary adventure was hosted by Merlindia. The items on the Merlindian menu are served over basmati rice. I opted for the “Pick 2” ($8) and chose the (1) butter chicken and (2) spinach & cheese. If you’re less or more hungry, you can get a “Dingo Bite” for $2 or the “Pick 3” for $11.

Since my platter of meat, rice and veggies was not true “street food,” FB is not entitled to the presumption that its offerings should be affirmed. See In re Eat Wonky (The Whoopie Pie Case), 2 Catt. 5 (2011) (explaining that street food is “the kind[] of food[] that can be cooked in front of you and [is] meant to be eaten with your hands, without forks, while standing up”); see also In re Salt and Pepper Grill, 8 Catt. 2 (2012) (finding that a similar platter of Indian food was not street food). Therefore, I now consider the merits of FB’s butter chicken and spinach & cheese.

Butter Chicken with Spinach & Cheese

FB’s butter chicken was excellent. It was well-seasoned and very tasty. The spice-level was perfect. It was more medium than mild, and I sensed the heat right away. The chunks of chicken were moist and tender, and I was easily able to cut the pieces with the spork that FB provided. FB also scooped up a generous spoonful of sauce to mix with the rice.

The basmati rice was better than the standard heap that often finds its way onto plates of Indian food. No dried-out grains here. It was fluffy (dare I say even almost sticky?) and felt like it had been freshly-prepared. (It probably was, as I was fourth in line after the window had opened for the day.)

The spinach & cheese was not to my liking. The pureed spinach was wonderfully thick and the pieces of paneer cheese were aplenty, but the flavor carried a heavy earthiness that did not appeal.

For the reasons stated above,

I AFFIRM in part and REMAND in part to fojol bros. for revision. It is so ordered.

The first time that I lined up in front of Salt and Pepper Grill (“SPG”), the chicken tikka masala was already gone. See In re Salt and Pepper Grill, 6 Catt. 1 (2012). The second time that I stopped by the truck, the chicken tikka masala had not yet run out, but the basmati rice had. On my third trip to SPG, there was basmati rice and chicken tikka masala. Finally! So the question is: Was SPG’s chicken tikka masala worth the wait?

Salt and Pepper Grill

 I. STREET FOOD

This Supreme Cart presumes that a dish should be affirmed if it constitutes “street food.” See In re Big Cheese, 6 Catt. 2 (2012). Street food is “the kind[] of food[] that can be cooked in front of you and [is] meant to be eaten with your hands, without forks, while standing up.” In re Eat Wonky, 2 Catt. 5 (2011). This Cart has already determined that SPG’s meat-and-rice platters are not street food. See Salt and Pepper Grill, 6 Catt. 1. Therefore, I will pursue the issue no further.

II. COMBO WITH CHICKEN TIKKA MASALA

SPG’s chicken tikka masala combo ($7.99) comes with basmati rice, naan, and salad. SPG was kind enough to allow me to make a substitution: palak paneer instead of salad. I address each component of the platter below.

Chicken Tikka Masala

 A. Chicken Tikka Masala

The chicken tikka masala, though not heavily spiced, was enjoyable. The creamy, tomato-based sauce was spicy, but the spice was slow-building rather than immediate. I would have preferred a bigger kick of paprika. There were large chunks of chicken, which were not overcooked or dry.

B. Palak Paneer

See Salt and Pepper Grill, 6 Catt. 1. My high opinion of SPG’s palak paneer remains the same. I recommend skipping the salad and requesting this in its place.

C. Basmati Rice

There is not much to say about the basmati rice because it was as it should have been. My only complaint was that the rice-to-meat ratio was off — I was left with a lot of rice after my chicken tikka masala had disappeared. If the number of chicken chunks cannot be increased, perhaps in the future there can be a more generous serving of sauce? The kid in me who enjoyed rice smothered in ketchup would probably also like rice swimming in orange-colored sauce.

D. Naan

Unlike the roti I previously sampled from SPG, see Salt and Pepper Grill, 6 Catt. 1,  the naan was made well. It was soft and chewy in the right kind of way.

Although I’ve had better versions of chicken tikka masala, I will probably return to SPG the next time I have a hankering for Indian food during my lunch hour. It was good enough, I got it quickly, and I got a lot of food for my money.

AFFIRMED in part and REMANDED in part to Salt and Pepper Grill for revision. It is so ordered.

Basil Thyme (“BT”) is a food truck that “serves fresh from-scratch pasta/Lasagna, sauces and dessert.” Up for review today is BT’s combo special, which includes a pasta entrée, side salad, dessert, and drink. For my entrée, I chose the “Guissepe” lasagna. The dessert of the day was a chocolate cannoli.

I must start with a confession: When I first spotted BT on the street many months ago, I walked right by it. I thought, “I cook pasta for dinner at least three times per week, and I don’t want to buy from a food truck what I can make for myself at home.” But the truth is that I can’t really compare my homemade pasta bakes with BT’s lasagna. I certainly don’t make lasagna from scratch, and even if I did, it probably wouldn’t be as good as BT’s. My stomach is glad that I was very wrong about BT.

Basil Thyme

 I. STREET FOOD

First, I must determine whether BT’s combo special is “street food.” This Supreme Cart has defined street food as “the kind[] of food[] that can be cooked in front of you and [is] meant to be eaten with your hands, without forks, while standing up.” In re Eat Wonky (The Whoopie Pie Case), 2 Catt. 5 (2011). This is important because if BT’s combo special is “street food,” then a presumption arises that [the combo special] should be affirmed” and “the burden of proof lies entirely with the Supreme Cart to prove that [it] should be remanded to [BT] for revision.” In re Big Cheese, 6 Catt. 2 (2012).

Although the Supreme Cart has not yet considered a combo special consisting of lasagna and salad, it is similar to other platters that have failed our “street food” test. See, e.g., In re NY Famous Kabob, 7 Catt. 3 (2012) (finding that a platter containing meat-over-rice and salad was not street food). A look at the main factors of the “street food” analysis supports the hunch that BT’s combo special is not street food. First, although a salad can be tossed in front of a food truck’s waiting customer, lasagna cannot be cooked within the minute or so that a customer steps up to a food truck. Second, neither lasagna nor salad is meant to be eaten without forks. Indeed, BT offers a fork to its customer. Third, lasagna and salad are not intended to be eaten by the customer while standing up. The standing position can be especially awkward and uncomfortable for the customer who likes to use a knife to cut smaller pieces.

BT’s cannoli does not constitute “street food” either. Although the dessert is meant to be picked up with the hands and can be eaten while standing up, the fried-and-filled pastry is not meant to be made in front of the customer. In fact, BT’s cannoli is similar to the pre-made whoopie pie that triggered our “street food” test in the first place. See Eat Wonky, 2 Catt. 5.

BT’s combo special is not entitled to the presumption that it should be affirmed as true “street food.” However, BT’s lasagna, salad, and cannoli proved to be pleasing to my palate, and I affirm.

II. COMBO SPECIAL

Guissepe Lasagna, Side Salad, Cannoli & Drink (Combo Special)

A. Guissepe Lasagna

BT’s from-scratch Guissepe lasagna is made with black truffles and gorgonzola. The truffle-and-cheese pairing was well-chosen, as the gorgonzola brought out the flavor of the truffles. Moreover, the gorgonzola was an inspired choice for the lasagna because it melted very well, leaving behind just the right amount of gooeyness. Not all mobile sellers of cheese dishes have found good melting cheeses, see In re Big Cheese, 6 Catt. 2 (2012), so BT is to be commended for this.

Note: The Guissepe lasagna a la carte costs $9. For an extra $2, you can get it with Portobello.

 B. Salad

The salad was impressive. It was made with fresh greens, cucumber slices, shredded carrots, roasted red peppers, Kalamata olives, shavings of Parmesan, and a light vinaigrette dressing. Compared to all the iceberg lettuce salads out on the streets, see, e.g., In re 1st Yellow Vendor, 4 Catt. 2 (2011); In re Ali Khan Express, 3 Catt. 5 (2011);  In re Tasty Kabob, 3 Catt. 4 (2011), this salad was a surprising and welcomed addition to my Styrofoam container.

C. Chocolate Cannoli

Chocolate Cannoli

BT makes its cannolis with “house-made Ricotta.” The chocolate filling was rich and creamy. The shell still had a bite to it and was not soggy. My only complaint: I would have liked a light sprinkling of confectioner’s sugar to top it off.

Note: A cannoli a la carte costs $3.

III. PORTION SIZE

Much ink has been spilled over whether BT’s portions are too small. I will add to the dialogue by saying that on first glance, the lasagna serving appeared on the small side, especially when juxtaposed with the larger serving of salad. But after eating the lasagna and salad, I was in that happy place where I was satisfied, not too stuffed, and could move on to dessert without feeling very bad. (In other words, if I had been in the mood to pig out on carbs, I probably would have been disappointed and wished I had gone to BT another day.)

 IV. CONCLUSION

 BT’s $10 combo special — with lasagna, salad, cannoli, and drink — is a solid deal. Since BT prices its lasagnas at $9, you basically get a salad, cannoli, and drink for an additional $1. (The exception is the Guissepe lasagna with Portobello. It costs $11 a la carte and $12 with the combo special.)

Everything was done well, and the ingredients were of good quality. I wouldn’t say that BT’s food is unique enough to reach the level of “food you absolutely must try,” but if you’re going to get lunch anyway and want a good meal for your money, then head over to BT’s truck and bring a Hamilton with you for the combo special.

A final note: BT readies and bags the customer’s meal very quickly (about a minute), so don’t let a long-looking line scare you away.

Affirmed. It is so ordered.

No. 35. Salt and Pepper Grill. Cartiorari granted on the question of chicken tikka masala.

No. 36. fojol bros. Cartiorari granted on the questions of (1) butter chicken and (2) spinach and cheese.

No. 37. Pupatella. Cartiorari granted on the question of whether pizza is within the jurisdiction of the Cart.

In the opening to King Creole, the King sings soulfully of the “sweet meat” of the bayou crawfish. “He’s gonna [sic] look good in your frying pan,” he chants. “If you fry him crisp or you boil him right, he’ll be sweeter than sugar when you take a bite,” he belts out. While we often opt for the boiled variety—with its eminently slurpable, heady ambrosia—today we opted for the frying variety—battered and deep-fried, that is, high atop a po’boy.

We granted cartiorari on the question of Willie’s Po’Boy’s (“WPB”) crawfish po’boy. When I approached the mobile gastronomic enterprise (“MGE”) for oral argument, I was struck by the long line that stretched nearly a quarter of a block along the sidewalk. Ever mindful of the TaKorean effect (i.e., the consequences of hype), I read this as a good sign and waited with great eagerness for a po’boy I could call my own.

Willie’s Po’Boy

WPB makes several variants on the classic po’boy. In the past, we have applauded MGEs who stick to limited, focused menus. We do so again today. Of the several varieties—oyster, shrimp, shrimp and oyster, catfish, etc.—we opted for crawfish. Like the catfish, the crawfish po’boy does not appear on WPB’s online menu but came recommended as crawfish were then in season. While the crawfish was excellent, in the end, we affirm in part and remand in part on the question of the bread.

Under our analysis, we must first address whether WPB’s crawfish po’boy constitutes “street food.” See In re Eat Wonky, 2 Catt. 5 (2011) (“[S]treet food is “the kind[] of food[] that can be cooked in front of you and [is] mean to be eaten with your hands, without forks, while standing up.”).  A po’boy is a sandwich. We have twice held that a sandwich is per se street food. In re Rolling Ficelle, 6 Catt. 3 (2012); In re Big Cheese, 6 Catt. 2 (2012). Therefore, “a presumption arises that the case should be affirmed,” and “the burden of proof lies entirely with the Supreme Cart to prove that the case should be remanded to [WPB] for revision.” Big Cheese, 6 Catt. 2.

As we often do, we consider each aspect of the crawfish po’boy separately. See In re TaKorean, 1 Catt. 4 (2011).

Crawfish Po’Boy

The crawfish was superb. It was indeed “sweeter than sugar,” as Elvis promised, and perfectly cooked. Most importantly, perhaps, it tasted fresh. The batter, too, was crisp, flavorful, and well seasoned, but without overpowering the crawfish.

While simple, the dressing—remoulade, lettuce, pickle, tomato—added a welcome brightness.

Finally, we arrive at the bread. WPB gets its bread from Leidenheimer Baking Company, a century-old New Orleans establishment. You could tell the bread was once a very good bread. And while I applaud WPB’s importation, and its dedication to authenticity, in the end, the bread was, unfortunately, a wee bit stale.

Overall, the po’boy was, I thought, quite good. Given our presumption in favor of affirming proper “street food,” we must, I feel, affirm. But there remains the issue of the stale bread, and here arises the question of severability. May the court sever the crawfish and dressing from the bread, affirming the former and remanding the latter? We find that, at least in this case, we can. Therefore, we affirm the crawfish and the dressing and remand the bread to WPB for revision, and it is so ordered.

Now if only I had had an ice-cold Dr. Nut to wash my po’boy down with, perhaps I could have prevented my pyloric valve from slamming shut so suddenly.

AFFIRMED in part and REMANDED in part to Willie’s Po’Boy for revision.

CATTLEYA, J., concurring.

My brother reaches a fair conclusion. WPB’s crawfish was well executed, but the bread fell short.

I want to stress how well WPB battered and deep-fried the crawfish. WPB first dipped the crawfish in buttermilk and then delicately applied a cornmeal batter. Since WPB did not pre-fry the crawfish but rather fried it to order, I was met with crispy, not soggy, seafood bites. And despite the inevitable grease stains on my takeaway paper bag, my po’boy did not feel overly greasy.

Even though I visited WPB on a different day than my brother, my bread too was stale. It would have been much better a day or two before, and unfortunately the light toasting could not hide the dryness.

At $9, the crawfish po’boy seemed on the pricey end. However, considering that Pearl Dive Oyster Palace*–a newcomer on Washingtonian‘s 100 Best Restaurants 2012 list– charges $13 for a similar po’boy plus fries, WPB’s po’boy is reasonably priced.

*I recognize that this brick-and-mortar restaurant is outside the Cart’s jurisdiction. My reference to the restaurant should not be construed as a review of its po’boy. Rather, I only offer it as a price comparison. Furthermore, I recognize that my brother introduced the pricing of a brick-and-mortar restaurant in another review of a costly seafood sandwich. See In re Red Hook Lobster Pound, 2 Catt. 1 (2011). At the time, I called this evidence “irrelevant.” See Red Hook Lobster Pound, 2 Catt. 1 (Cattleya, J., concurring). I retract that statement now, as the pricing of a similar foodstuff as offered by a brick-and-mortar restaurant can inform us about the reasonableness of a food truck’s pricing.

On my lunch table today are (1) lamb and rice and (2) chicken on pita from the newly-opened NY Famous Kabob (“NYFK”). NYFK is an Arlington-based cart that serves “New York style kabob[s].” It has been spotted at two different locations: 1) North Lynn Street (Rosslyn); and 2) GMU’s Arlington Campus (between Clarendon and Virginia Square). The green cart at GMU might look a little familiar to students, as it used to be part of the Tasty Kabob fleet. See In re Tasty Kabob, 3 Catt. 4 (2011); Metro Halal Food v. Tasty Kabob, 1 Catt. 2 (2011).

So the question is, in a mobile food landscape that is full of kabob trucks (see, e.g., Tasty Kabob, Metro Halal Food, Ali Khan Express, DC Kabob and Grill Truck, Halal Gyro Plus, and Kraving Kabob), how does NYFK rate?

NY Famous Kabob

I. STREET FOOD

Our regular reader will know what this Supreme Cart’s first order of business is: to determine whether NYFK’s  offerings are “street food.” Street food is “the kind[] of food[] that can be cooked in front of you and [is] meant to be eaten with your hands, without forks, while standing up.” In re Eat Wonky (The Whoopie Pie Case), 2 Catt. 5 (2011).

It should come as no surprise that NYFK’s lamb and rice platter, like other meat over rice dishes that have come before the Cart, is not street food. See, e.g., In re Hot People Food (The Sassy Chicken Case), 7 Catt. 2 (2012); In re Salt and Pepper Grill, 6 Catt. 1 (2012). Therefore, no presumption arises that NYFK’s lamb and rice should be affirmed. See In re Big Cheese, 6 Catt. 2 (2012) (“[W]here an offering is deemed to constitute ‘street food,’ a presumption arises that the case should be affirmed. That is, the MGE has made out its prima facie case and the burden of proof lies entirely with the Supreme Cart to prove that the case should be remanded to the MGE for revision.”).

On the other hand, NYFK’s chicken on pita, similar to a sandwich, is street food. See In re Rolling Ficelle, 6 Catt. 3 (2012) (finding that a sandwich was street food); Big Cheese, 6 Catt. 2 (finding that two sandwiches were street food). Therefore, NYFK’s chicken on pita must be affirmed unless this Supreme Cart can meet the burden to rebut the presumption of affirmance. See Big Cheese, 6 Catt. 2.

 II. LAMB AND RICE

Lamb and Rice

Having determined that NYFK’s lamb and rice is not entitled to the presumption that it should be affirmed as street food, I now evaluate the platter. I cannot comment on whether NYFK’s lamb and rice is indeed “New York style,” since New York is outside this Cart’s jurisdiction. I consider the platter on its own merits and against the backdrop of similar food carts and trucks within this Cart’s jurisdiction.

The platter is like other lamb and rice platters that the Supreme Cart Justices have sampled. It contains lamb gyro meat over rice, with a side vegetable and a small salad. See In re Ali Khan Express, 3 Catt. 5 (2011) (lamb, rice, chick peas, salad); Tasty Kabob, 3 Catt. 4 (same). In this case, the side vegetable was spinach. The price of the platter was $6.99 plus tax.

NYFK’s lamb gyro was flavorful, but the shaved meat was overcooked and dry. The long-grain rice was as long-grain rice should be: nicely separated and not sticky. The spinach, which was served in a watery broth, was a bit bland. The salad was a standard offering of lettuce and tomato with a drizzle of white sauce. All together, the platter was a generous serving – certainly enough to split into the day’s lunch and dinner, if one had the will power to do so. I, of course, did not.

III. CHICKEN ON PITA

NYFK’s chicken on pita, which is true street food, is entitled to the presumption that it should be affirmed. I cannot meet the burden to rebut this presumption.

Normally, I would never order chicken over lamb. See In re Red Hook Lobster Pound, 2 Catt. 1 (2011) (“[N]o one in their right mind orders shrimp over lobster.); In re El Floridano, 2 Catt. 2 (2011) (“[N]o one in their right mind orders [tempeh] over [pork].” (internal quotation marks omitted)). But after experiencing NYFK’s dry lamb, I put my right mind aside and ordered chicken.

Chicken on Pita

It turned out to be a good decision. The chicken was well-seasoned. Moreover, it was cooked properly, meaning that it was moist and not dry. The pita was thick, pillowy, and not stale. Slices of tomato sat beneath the chicken, and a generous sprinkling of lettuce covered the top. White sauce and hot sauce finished off the dish. It was exactly what I expected, and nothing stuck out as bad or off-putting. I did not regret spending $5.99 plus tax.

IV. CONCLUSION

For its rice platters, NYFK fills the diner’s Styrofoam container to its maximum capacity. I was not hungry after I finished my lamb and rice, but I was not satisfied either. With dry lamb, the platter was disappointing.

The chicken on pita was not disappointing, but it was not as filling as the platter. At only $1 more, the platter seemed like a better deal.

I noticed as I left that NYFK offers a two-meat combination platter containing lamb and chicken. Perhaps this is a wiser selection because even if you get dry lamb (like I did), hopefully you’ll get moist chicken (like I did). Of course, you could just get the chicken and rice platter, but as indicated earlier, who in their right mind orders chicken over lamb?

I AFFIRM in part and REMAND in part to NY Famous Kabob for revision. It is so ordered.

Before us is Hot People Food (“HPF”), a food truck the serves, um, “Hot People Food.” This Cart has already determined that “Hot People Food” is “‘people food’ that is ‘hot’ in terms of spicing, temperature, excitement, or any combination of the above.” In re Hot People Food (The Hot People Dumplings Case), 6 Catt. 4 (2012). “Hot People Food” is most probably “hot” in terms of spicing, as HPF spices its food to the particular diner’s tastes. On HPF’s recommendation, we ordered the Hot Grab Lunch Box with Sassy Chicken. In addition to the meat entrée, the Hot Grab Lunch Box comes with miso soup, rice, vegetables, and half of a so-called “GolDDen Egg.”

I. STREET FOOD

This Cart has determined that street food is “the kind[] of food[] that can be cooked in front of you and [is] meant to be eaten with your hands, without forks, while standing up.” In re Eat Wonky, 2 Catt. 5 (2011). We conclude that the Hot Grab Lunch Box, like other platters of meat, vegetables, and rice, is not street food. See, e.g., In re Salt and Pepper Grill, 6 Catt. 1 (2012). Therefore, no presumption arises that HPF’s Sassy Chicken should be affirmed. See In re Big Cheese, 6 Catt. 2 (2012) (“[W]here an offering is deemed to constitute ‘street food,’ a presumption arises that the case should be affirmed. That is, the MGE has made out its prima facie case and the burden of proof lies entirely with the Supreme Cart to prove that the case should be remanded to the MGE for revision.”).

II. HOT GRAB LUNCH BOX: SASSY CHICKEN

As this Cart very often does, each element of the Hot Grab Lunch Box will be addressed in turn. See, e.g., In re Takorean, 1 Catt. 4 (2011).

Sassy Chicken

A. Sassy Chicken.

The “Sassy Chicken” name itself doesn’t indicate how HPF prepares the meat and HPF doesn’t provide a description of the dish, so we weren’t sure what to expect. What makes chicken sassy? It turns out that the answer is soy sauce, fennel, and ginger.

First, the good news: The Sassy Chicken was moist. This is no small feat. Not all food trucks have avoided the trap of dry chicken. See In re Bada Bing, 5 Catt. 2 (2012).

Now, the bad news: The Sassy Chicken was not sassy at all. It was bland, and despite the “Hot People Food” name, it didn’t have even a hint of spice. For those diners seeking heat, HPF drizzles Sriracha sauce over the Sassy Chicken. As much as I love Sriracha sauce and believe a bottle should be stocked in every American kitchen, even it could not make the Sassy Chicken more exciting. I would have preferred if the spiciness came more from a marinade and less from a condiment, but perhaps that is not possible when one is trying to cater to all spice preferences.

B. Miso soup.

My opinion of HPF’s miso soup on this second tasting was the same as it was on the first. See In re Hot People Food (The Hot People Dumplings Case), 6 Catt. 4 (2012) (Cattleya, J., concurring). It was a nice addition, but it was standard miso soup and nothing out of the ordinary. The only comment that I have to add is that this time, my bowl of miso soup was only half full. I suspect that HPF is less generous with the serving size towards the end of the lunch service, when its food stocks are running low.

C. Rice.

HPF’s default rice is steamed. On some days, HPF also offers fried rice. I was lucky enough to show up on such a day. The fried rice was good, but like the miso soup, it was standard Chinese food fare.

D. Vegetables.

The Hot Grab Lunch Box came with a side of steamed broccoli. Beneath the Sassy Chicken, there were more vegetables in the form of carrots and potatoes. (This raises the question: Are potatoes vegetables?) These vegetables, assuming that they are all vegetables, allowed me to tell my mother later that day that, yes, I had eaten my vegetables. Which is to say that they were good, but nothing special.

E. GolDDen Egg.

A “GolDDen Egg” is a hard-boiled egg that is steeped in tea. Tea eggs are common street food in Asia. They are also street food under out Eat Wonky test because a tea egg “can be cooked in front of you and [is] meant to be eaten with your hands, without forks, while standing up.” See In re Eat Wonky, 2 Catt. 5 (2011). For this reason, this Cart presumes that HPF’s GolDDen Egg should be affirmed (even though the Sassy Chicken entrée did not merit this presumption). I cannot meet the burden to rebut the presumption because I found HPF’s egg to be quite tasty. So tasty, in fact, that based on my enjoyment of half of one piece, I will probably get the appetizer portion of two pieces on a future visit.

III. CONCLUSION

At $7.99 plus tax, HPF’s Hot Grab Lunch Box is a lot of food. The diner gets a large portion of meat, plus miso soup, rice, vegetables, and half of a tea egg. On top of that, HPF throws in a piece of delicious guava hard candy to finish off the meal.

Nothing in the Hot Grab Lunch Box was bad. One thing was quite good (GolDDen Egg). Some things were standard (miso soup; rice). One thing could have been much better (Sassy Chicken). Overall, the meal left a mediocre taste in my mouth.

For the reasons stated above, the Hot Grab Lunch Box with Sassy Chicken is

AFFIRMED in part and REMANDED in part to Hot People Food for revision.

JEREMY, C.J., concurring in the result.

“The issue is, what is [sassy] chicken?” See Frigaliment Importing Co. v. B.N.S. Int’l Sales Corp., 190 F. Supp. 116 (S.D.N.Y. 1960). As my sister rightly points out, “[t]he ‘Sassy Chicken’ name itself doesn’t indicate how HPF prepared the meat and HPF doesn’t provide a description of the dish . . . .” The opinion of the Cart finds that HPF’s Sassy Chicken is chicken marinated in a blend of “soy sauce, fennel, and ginger,” with a drizzle of Sriracha. However, upon ordering Sassy Chicken on a separate occasion from my sister, I was presented with battered and deep-fried chicken bits in a sticky sweet-and-sour sauce. Therefore, though I agree generally with the result of the Cart’s decision, I must find that HPF’s Sassy Chicken, far from a chicken marinated in a savory blend of herbs and spices, is instead battered, deep-fried, and coated in a markedly different gastrique.

I agree heartily with my sister’s assessment of HPF’s GolDDen Egg. (Get it? Double-D . . .)

(Further, I was presented with white rice and bok choy instead of fried rice and broccoli, but that is largely immaterial.)

However, though I agree generally with the result of the opinion of the Cart, I feel I must voice my disapproval on a certain matter of considerable import.

I am shocked, shocked, by my sister’s apparent willingness to cast aside sound precedent. The concept of stare decisis is foundational in any common law system of adjudication. It is “usually the wise policy, because in most matters it is more important that the applicable rule of law be settled than that it be settled right.” Burnet v. Coronado Oil & Gas Co., 285 U.S. 393, 406-407, 410 (1932) (Brandeis, J., dissenting).

I thought it well settled law that a potato is, indeed, a “vegetable.” Therefore, my sister’s eagerness to reopen that question—to ask, as she does, “[a]re potatoes vegetables?”—is perturbing, to say the least.

In a seminal case of the United States Supreme Court, it was determined that a tomato is a “vegetable.” Nix v. Hedden, 149 U.S. 304 (1893). In that case, the Court wrote:

Botanically speaking, tomatoes are the fruit of a vine, just as are cucumbers, squashes, beans, and peas. But in the common language of the people, whether sellers or consumers of provisions, all these are vegetables which are grown in kitchen gardens, and which, whether eaten cooked or raw, are, like potatoes, carrots, parsnips, turnips, beets, cauliflower, cabbage, celery, and lettuce, usually served at dinner in, with, or after the soup, fish, or meats which constitute the principal part of the repast, and not, like fruits generally, as dessert.

Id. (emphasis added). And thus, in passing on the question of the tomato, that venerable body passed also on the question of the potato.

Now, my sister may object that such is merely obiter dicta. But, from Nix, the now settled legal test for whether a plant is, for culinary purposes, a “fruit” or a “vegetable” rests on whether the plant is “usually served at dinner in, with, or after the soup, fish, or meats which constitute the principal part of the repast” or whether the plant is served “like fruits generally, as dessert.” While I am aware that the potato may be employed in a dessert, it is common knowledge that it most often served with “the principal part of the repast.” Indeed, it is so with HPF’s Sassy Chicken meal. Thus, as far as this Cart is concerned, there can be no question but that a potato is, in fact, a “vegetable.”

Instead, I would treat my sister’s question as dicta. It is simply too late in time to reopen discussion of the inherent vegetableness of the potato.

We granted cartiorari to Lemongrass, a food truck specializing in Vietnamese cuisine, on three menu items: (1) slow roasted pork banh mi; (2) lemongrass chicken taco; and (3) Thai tea with bubbles. The Washington Post upheld the quality of these three items. It described the banh mi as “addictive.” It found that the taco was “a surprisingly great twist on the [banh mi].” And it concluded that the bubble tea was “a sweet, milky way to wash it all down.” We now affirm, but with more elaborate reasoning.

Lemongrass

I. STREET FOOD

Before we address Lemongrass’s offerings, we must settle the question of whether they constitute “street food.” This Cart has defined “street food” as “the kind[] of food[] that can be cooked in front of you and [is] meant to be eaten with your hands, without forks, while standing up.” In re Eat Wonky, 2 Catt. 5 (2011). We further explained that under the Eat Wonky test,

a dish must (1) be cooked or be capable of being cooked in front of the customer, i.e., aboard the mobile gastronomic enterprise (“MGE”); (2) is meant to be eaten with one’s hands, i.e., without forks or other cutlery; and (3) is eaten or is capable of being eaten while standing up.

In re Big Cheese, 6 Catt. 2 (2012). However, this test is “intended only to be a multifactor test to guide and direct our analysis.” In re Hot People Food (The Hot People Dumplings Case), 6 Catt. 4 (2012).

It is clear that the banh mi—a sandwich—satisfies the Eat Wonky test. Time and time again, this Cart has declared sandwiches to be true “street food.” See, e.g., In re Rolling Ficelle, 6 Catt. 3 (2012); Big Cheese, 6 Catt. 2.

Today we find that tacos, like sandwiches, are “street food.” Similar to sandwiches, taco can be cooked and assembled in front of the customer. Moreover, tacos share the finger-food quality of sandwiches. They are meant to be eaten without utensils, and the customer can easily eat tacos while standing up.

Thai tea with bubbles—a drink—can similarly be characterized as “street food.” Requiring only the boiling of tapioca pearls and the mixing of black tea and condensed milk (plus another step or two), Thai tea is capable of being prepared in front of the customer. Furthermore, it is capable of being consumed without the use of any gadget or tool. Although bubble tea is usually served with a large straw (straws enhance the eating experience of tapioca pearls), the presence of the straw doesn’t change this result. See Hot People Food, 6 Catt. 4 (finding that dumplings were “street food” because they could be eaten with one’s fingers, even though a fork was provided). Finally, there is no doubt that the customer can perform the task of drinking while in the standing position. (The Chief Justice’s clerks, who are still doing double duty to assist me as well, tell me that young people regularly exhibit this skill at bars and other social establishments.)

Because Lemongrass’s offering constitute “street food,” this Cart presumes that they should be affirmed, and the burden to show that they should be remanded lies with the Cart. See Big Cheese, 6 Catt. 2. For the reasons stated below, we find that the burden is not met for any of the three food items before us; therefore, we affirm.

Thai Tea with Bubbles, Pork Banh Mi, and Chicken Taco

 II. SLOW ROASTED PORK BANH MI ($7.50)

Another reviewer—the Washington Post—called Lemongrass’s pork banh mi “addictive.” WaPo, however, did not explicitly state what made the sandwich addictive. Was it the pork? The spicy mayo? The baguette? The pickled carrots and radish?

The pork was tender, but while one might have expected it to take the spotlight, it did not. The flavor of the spicy, creamy Sriracha mayo was stronger than the pork. The mayo was very tasty though and gave a nice kick to my palate, so I didn’t mind that the pork fell into the background.

The pork was also overshadowed by the pickled carrots and radish. The pickled topping nicely balanced out the spicy mayo. Texturally, it provided a nice crunch. Taste-wise, the acidity was very refreshing. This is a pickled condiment done very, very, very well.

The element which made the biggest impact on my food memory was the baguette. According to WaPo, Lemongrass gets its bread from a Vietnamese bakery in Falls Church. Lemongrass’s choice of bread is perfect. Like another bread that’s being sold on the street, see In re Rolling Ficelle, 6 Catt. 3 (2012), the baguette was crusty on the outside and soft on the inside. Each bite into it made me want another . . . and another . . . and another. It’s a very good thing that the baguette was large in size, so that I could keep having another, another, and another bite. (Initially, I was going to save half of my sandwich for dinner, but there was no stopping me from eating every crumb of this bread as soon as I could.)

In the end, I really didn’t care that the pork was merely a supporting player in the banh mi. The baguette and pickled vegetables were so exceptional that Lemongrass could sell them together as a new sandwich and would see me in front of the truck every week.

N.B.: There was also cilantro on the banh mi, but I will leave any comment on this herb to my brother. As I have noted before, I do not like cilantro. See In re Salt and Pepper Grill, 6 Catt. 1 (2012). But it’s not my fault.

III. LEMONGRASS CHICKEN TACO ($7.50 for 3; $4 for 1)

Lemongrass styles its tacos as the “carb friendly sister” to the banh mi. It includes the same ingredients but serves them on a flour tortilla instead of a baguette. WaPo concluded that the taco was a “great twist on the [banh mi].” I disagree on the grounds that there is no need to find an alternative to the banh mi, but I still affirm.