come for the gas, stay for the grease

The other day I posted a link on my Facebook page to a 'restaurant' review from the East Bay Express of a new place in Fremont. I say 'restaurant' with quotes around it because the place in question a) specializes in deep-fried junk food and b) because it's located in a gas station. Even though the accompanying comment I made on the link was disparaging, I was kind of intrigued by this place. Kind of like that morbid curiosity people have while gawking at a wreck on the side of the road: you know you shouldn't look, but you just can't help yourself.

Now, as much as I might seem like a food snob, I have a confession to make: I grew up on white trash food. I didn't realize it until I was much older, but a lot of what my mom cooked when I was growing up was totally redneck. You know the kind of stuff I'm talking about: 'meat' from a can, Campbell's Soup used as gravy, Jell-O mold with fruit cocktail inside and the like. My mom is actually a great cook, so I'm pretty sure this was a function of growing up in the seventies as more women were working outside the home and looking for quick dinner solutions. My favorite dinner when I was a kid was meatloaf made with Lipton French Onion soup mix mashed in to the ground beef, then smothered with Campbell's Cream of Mushroom soup with a scoop of rice and Green Giant corn niblets on the side. If I went to visit my folks and my mom put a plate of that in front of me, I would devour it like a starving 10-year-old who just got home from two hours of swim team practice. I wouldn't make it at home for myself - my mom probably hasn't made this dish in 25 years either - but I would still think it was totally yummy.

Like any good American, particularly one who was raised on white trash cuisine, I love fried food. I'm down for pretty much anything dipped in batter and run through the deep fat fryer. So it's a little odd that I've made it to this point in my life without ever having a deep fried Twinkie. But then again, maybe not so odd because that particular delicacy seems to be most easily found at events like county fairs and tractor pulls - two places where I very rarely (if ever) find myself. (Well, there was that one time Kirk and I went to the San Mateo County Fair to see Night Ranger, but we were there to rock, not eat. Wow, did I really admit that in public?)

It just so happens that the following day I was working in Santa Clara and would be driving right past Fremont on my way home, so I made it my journalistic DUTY to go check it out so I could report back to you, dear reader. Wasn't that altruistic of me?

The place is called "The Deep Fried Twinky (sic) and Pastrami Shop," or at least that's what the banner outside says. It's situated in the back of the convenience store attached to the Valero gas station on the corner of Mowry Avenue and Fremont Blvd. Not sure if the misspelling of "Twinkie" is on purpose to avoid any kind of copyright infringement or if the sign maker or store owner is not smarter than a fifth grader. Does anything say 'redneck' more than deep fat fried food from the gas station? I bet they sell rifles and ammo there too.

Besides the obvious pastrami sandwich (which is not deep fried) and Twinkies (which are), this place offers all kinds of deep fried goodness (or should I say, badness) including but not limited to, Oreos, PB&J, bananas, cookies and cupcakes. On the savory side, they have a bacon-wrapped hot dog (deep fried), ham & cheese sandwich (deep fried) and garlic fries (obviously, deep fried). I think the only thing not deep fried on the menu is the pastrami sandwich. Not sure what makes it so special that it doesn't get a batter-and-oil bath like everything else they offer, but I suppose I'll have to find that out another time.

I find the menu a little overwhelming. Which fried delight should I have? For the truly undecided, they have a Sweet Sampler plate which consists of two bananas, two Oreos, half of a PB&J, one Twinkie, two cookies and one cupcake for $9.99. But I am by myself and not looking to give myself a heart attack on the spot, so it's between the Twinkie (hereafter refered to as DFT) and the PB&J. The PB&J sounds a little more exotic and somewhat more satisfying, but I'm actually not all that hungry. I decide to go for the DFT mainly because I figure that if I'm going to pop my white trash fried junk food cherry it might as well be with a classic.



The DFT comes drizzled with chocolate sauce and dusted with powdered sugar. It actually presents well, like if it wasn't being served on yellow fast food paper in a disposable paper tray, you might actually mistake it for a five dollar dessert at some family restaurant chain like Chili's or Applebee's instead of a two-buck one at the gas station.

The first bite is a hot, crunchy burst of molten cake. A little too hot to taste anything, really, so I let it cool down a bit. After a few more bites, I have to honestly say that I'm not a fan. What I like about Twinkies in their original form is the sponginess of the cake and the lightness of the creme center. But the hot oil has turned the cake into a gritty, mushy substance almost the consistency of polenta and the creme into flavorless liquid. At least the batter, chocolate sauce and powdered sugar made it into something that was edible and mildly enjoyable. I think the DFT could have benefited from a scoop of vanilla ice cream to temper the hotness and sweetness.

Even though I'm not impressed with the DFT, I'll probably come back to the DFTAPS to try the PB&J and the pastrami, and of the bacon-wrapped hot dog sounds pretty awesome too. I think the PB&J will hold up better in the fryer than the Twinkie - melty peanut butter sounds infinitely more palatable than disintegrated sponge cake. Of course, I would ONLY be returning here because it's my journalistic duty to report back on these things. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

Did I mention that the gas here is really cheap? Like 20 cents per gallon cheaper than what I paid at the ghetto gas station near my house. It's worth the five-minute detour off the freeway just for that. And hey, if I have to fill up my car, might as well fill up my belly, too.

The deets: The Deep Fried Twinky & Pastrami Shop, 4004 Mowry Avenue at Fremont Blvd, Fremont. Phone: (510) 794-7666. Open Monday through Saturday, 10 a.m. to 9:00 p.m.