A Public Service Announcement: Why the best drunk eating is never at home
It seems like a great idea to have a shower before going to see a band in some dank venue instead of eating dinner. In place of lining the walls of your alcohol soaked stomach, you’re jumping up and down in a sweatbox where the walls feel like carpet, the actual carpet smells like a bag of ball sacks and rubbing up against thirty unshowered punks and hipsters seems like a terrible consolation.
As always, you’ve had too many shots and beers, and shots in beers that you've spent all your money and somehow you’re at Black Pearl with a Manhattan, a longneck of Tsing Tao and you can no longer feel your legs.
Who cares, they have just called last drinks and YOU’RE. FUCKING. STARVING.
The best option is to eat the dirty pizza and potato cakes next door and wake up with a mouthful of regret, but that isn’t always the case. Sometimes, just sometimes, your entourage is large (stupid) enough for you all to convince yourselves that it's a good idea to go back to one of your homes and drunk eat.
I don’t know about you, but this almost always ends in a combination of all the failures on the “Munchies” channel mixed with the disorientation of Hannah Hart’s “My Drunk Kitchen” (and if you’re in a mix with men, then they may feel as victorious as the “Epic Meal Time” boys).
It doesn’t matter what the skill levels are amongst the group, the sadness (and sometimes hunger) will last. Let me convince you why it is never a good idea to go home and make any kind of food that requires heat application.
Depending on how fucked up you are, don’t try to make a toastie or any other concoction of carbohydrate fused together by cheese in a pan (quesadilla). It's more than likely that you are too impatient to do this properly and will burn the fuck out of your bread and set off all the smoke alarms at four in the morning. Be a boss and use a damn sandwich press or eat the cheese straight from the fridge. Who gives a fuck if your cheese is cold, I thought you were wasted! Disclaimer: cheese dreams are real.
Anything in an oven
Don’t. Just don’t. You will fall asleep. Pretend you’re a student and use the microwave – your skank mouth won’t know the difference at this hour.
First of all, I don’t know what type of drunken person thinks it’s a good idea to make eggs. They just look like pre-vom when you screw them up. Secondly, I think your omelette is all fancy and deconstructed, so much so, it could've been scrambled.
What? Why are you doing this now when you could have bought one before, asshole!
This always seems like an amazing thing to eat after you've had too many drinks. With enough people and peer pressure, you can turn this heavenly piece of fried into poutine if you hate yourself enough. However, drunken deep frying is never an option and if you’re going to be a pussy and throw your processed potatoes into an oven, refer to point two (but please don’t put your chips in a microwave, that idea makes me cringe like I’ve just seen a pigeon). Also, I like that none of your flesh is cooked. Let's keep it that way.
Now, who hasn’t made a big ass pot of pasta for a large group to communally dive in with forks? Not you? LIAR!
Look, I know it may have worked a couple of times in the past and you think you’re a pro, but remember: while boiling pots of water seems like NBD, when you realise you have to clean out everything from the sink to drain it (I’m assuming you live in a share house), your attitude may be slightly different. Also, when you’re drunk, I can guarantee you that you’re not as strong as you think, and half the water will end up pooling at your feet. Don’t tell me you’re one of those people that cooks barefoot (let alone barefoot in front of people) as well. You disgust me. Plus, I bet one of your friends is a vegetarian.
Unless you're one of those people who thinks bread dipped in something runnier than bread is a great drunk-food, or are inclined to eat really cold pate, smallgoods and cheese in the middle of the night, go for it. Personally, if I am wasted, it’s time for something that has been either covered in cheese or submerged in oil.
So, the moral of the story is: don’t cook while wasted, save that shit for breakfast. (And don’t eat KFC when drunk, that’s a hangover food. I’ve seen it do too many bad things to good people.)
All images via Shutterstock.