
It's not true what people say, that eating in the parking lot of a gentleman's club makes food taste better. Maybe this theory has resonated as strongly with you as it did with me... and for the same vulgar reasons. So imagine my googly eyes when GPS led us right to a sign advertising the next Miss Nude Baltimore competition.
Baltimore, as a kinda southern city, has its own version of bbq called pit beef. It's not "real" bbq, in the smoked, sauced, or rubbed way that other places do bbq. If you're a fan of 'The Wire', as every truly thinking up there person is, this dysfunctionality will strike you as oddly correct. Pit beef, similar in taste and appearance to roast beef, is beef round steak, grilled rare, left unsmoked, and thinly sliced like deli meat. It's typically served on a Kaiser roll, then pungently piled with raw white onion and tons of raw horseradish. I really don't care for horseradish, but it didn't seem fair to eat pit beef the wrong way: the artistic integrity of every sandwich deserves respect, on principle.
Sandwiches are always worth eating (another principle), but this one was a bit plain somehow, even with the heartburn-inducing toppings. In bland roast beef tradition, it was badly in need of salt and rather flat in flavor. Even the "tiger sauce" (watery sour cream loaded with horseradish) didn't make it taste like much. So I only ate one.