As we’ve said in the past, the new food offerings at Disney California Adventure have been almost as essential to that park’s popular relaunch as the rides. Nowhere is that more evident than inside Cars Land, the signature centerpiece of DCA’s expansion.
To start this series, I shared some thoughts on my favorite edible attraction in Cars Land, the citrus turkey salad prepared by Flo’s V8 Cafe. That appealing plate took first position in this taste trilogy. Sadly, my second contender isn’t nearly as savory. Grab your antacids and greet the Lee Van Cleef to the salad’s Clint Eastwood.
On weekdays, I rarely ingest more than a cup of coffee before noon. But on weekends, I’m a strong advocate for a scrambled eggs with cheese and salsa for brunch. So on my first morning inside Cars Land, I was almost as excited to visit the Cozy Cone Motel as I was to ride Radiator Springs Racers. As one of the first customers of the day, I stepped up to cone #3 order a Verde Scramble Cone, billed as “Scrambled Eggs, Salsa Verde and Queso Fresco served in a Bread Cone.”
And then my pain began.
I don’t blame the mildly spicy green chile sauce for my intestinal suffering, nor the bland white cheese crumbled over the top. The fault fully lies with the infernal fiend who prepared the scrambled eggs, which were presumably cooked over the fires of Hades itself. If you want to know the proper way to cook scrambled eggs, check out Julia Child’s low-and-slow method, which takes a few more minutes but makes creamy, buttery, velvet-soft eggs every time.
The chefs at DCA apparently studied this technique, and then did the exact opposite, in a concentrated effort to create the densest, most rubbery, chewy, indigestible pseudo-egg substance known to man. If you are an afficiado of the reconstituted powdered yellow sludge served in prisons and military boot camps, you’ll be in heaven here; all others are duly warned. And as an extra joke, they wrapped the entire mess in a flavorless bone-dry bread cone that resembles a pretzel crust made from recycled sawdust.
Adding to my agony, my beverage of choice for washing this gut-bomb down was the closest thing on the menu to fruit juice, Filmore’s Pomegrate Limeade. a nearly-opaque red liquid topped with a vile-looking canned foam and loaded with enough syrupy sugar to make my teeth feel like they were wearing fur coats. It might make an acceptable afternoon energy-booster, but as a breakfast beverage it lags slightly behind a melted Jolly Rancher.
In the end, I was unable to eat even half of the eggs, and couldn’t consume all of the ‘ade either. I will consider that $10.28 (plus tax) well spent if I can spare just one TouringPlans.com reader from sharing my fate. Eat careful out there on Route 66!
Have you tried DCA’s breakfast cones? What’s the worst new flavor you’ve found in Cars Land? Leave your comments below, and return soon for the conclusion of this series.