[Photograph: Paul Bartunek]

You may, on occasion, find yourself awake after a particularly heavy bout of drinking to realize that you have absolutely no idea where you are. All you can discern is that you're on a sidewalk, next to open-stalled fish vendors and old ladies pushing boxy grocery carts filled with odd fruits you've never encountered before. Signs hanging heavy with Mandarin Chinese script offer no support, and pretty quickly you'll lift up your shirt to check for missing organs. And it's right then, at the absolute height of your hungover panic, when you're going to hear the voice of an angel. And that angel's name is Papi Chulo.

Well, his real name is Roy Choi, the megamind behind a Kogi BBQ food truck revolution, plus half a dozen egg-heavy restaurants around Los Angeles. Believe in his voice, as he calls out for orders of Ooey Gooey Fries or something called the Sour Cream Hen House. Let Choi's siren song guide you inside and you'll realize that you're not as far from home as you may have thought. This is Chinatown, Jake, and all those signs and stalls you saw before are just a regular part of the downtown Los Angeles landscape. Now hurry inside the Far East Plaza for a taste of Choi's ultimate post-drinking destination: Chego.

If you fancy yourself a Westside drinker, you're likely familiar with Chego's sticky rice bowls and on-the-menu-then-off-again burger. The former location on Overland ran into some serious issues with building management and, after a short stint as a truck in the parking lot, the entire operation up and moved east. They're still slinging those sticky rice bowls that have been known to stop hangovers, eradicate hunger, and cure cancer* (*allegedly). The monster among those bowls, the true beast that carries away your burden is the Chubby Pork Belly bowl ($9).

Stacked to the rafters and pulsing with the same vibrancy as the hip hop music that's pouring out of the kitchen, the Chubby Pork Belly bowl is a hangover's formidable foe. Thick pork belly rashers are spiced with gochujang, a delicious Korean chile paste, and then blackened at the edges over an open flame. Toss in Chinese broccoli, water spinach, Thai basil, and some pickled radishes, then dust over with cojita cheese, crushed peanuts, a little salsa verde and add in a splash of the thick, spicy, seed-in sambal sauce that is so popular along the Pacific rim. Of course, there are two big soy sauce-laced mounds of sticky rice underneath all of that gooiness, plus the requisite fried egg to smother the ingredients even further. This is the bowl that brings you back from the brink.

What more could you possibly want from a hangover reducer? There's starchy rice, fatty, crispy pork, a runny egg, a push of heat from the sambal and a dash of fresh greenery. Papi Chulo must really be an angel indeed. And now that Chego's all moved into their new Chinatown space, there's plenty of room on the picnic tables out front to rest your head until your order number is called. For those of you who can't stop chasing the dog that just bit you, Chego is also a BYOB establishment, with a liquor store around the corner. Eat a few Chubby Pork Belly bowls and one too many Singha beers and you may just find yourself back out on the sidewalk, unsure of how you got there in the first place.

Chego

727 North Broadway #117, Chinatown Los Angeles (map)
eatchego.com

About the author: Farley Elliott is a writer and comedian living in Los Angeles. He writes about strip mall food for LA Weekly and covers the LA beer scene for KCET.

[Photo: Maggie Hoffman]

I have little patience for long lines, so I haven't braved dim sum at Koi Palace on a weekend. Despite the vast size of this just-South-of-San-Francisco spot's cavernous dining rooms, I hear they're jammed if you attempt to visit on a Saturday. But some of us find ourselves at cocktail bars on school nights, and then those people (ahem) crave crisp-fried dumplings and soft rice rolls and pillowy pork-stuffed buns by lunchtime the next day. Koi Palace makes tons of sense on a Wednesday: after a quick hop on the highway, we walked right in and breezily snagged a table for two.

Though 'burrito' isn't really the keyword you're usually looking for on a dim sum menu, this particular item, the Shredded Duck Burrito ($6.90) is a must-order at Koi Palace. (You can select it on the written menu; we didn't see it showing up on the carts that make their way around the dining room.) The duck burrito might be called a 'duck pancake' elsewhere: it's essentially a set of two flaky, just slightly-greasy, tender scallion pancakes, rolled around moist, rich slices of duck and spears of cucumber. Dipped in hoisin sauce, it's sweet-savory-salty-rich in all the right ways.

Koi Palace

365 Gellert Boulevard, Daly City, CA 94015 (map)
650-992-9000; koipalace.com (Warning, music plays.)

[Photographs: W.S. Lyon]

Heading back to the bar on Sunday afternoon might not be your first, most obvious choice for a cure. Unless of course that bar is Nashville's No. 308. With its spacey vibe and its stoner-food plates piled high, the brunch here is designed with heavy-hitters at heart.

First off, it's never crowded. Patrons can sit in or out, out being the popular choice for the large groups of young women, in being the M.O. of the bearded young men. And it hits that sweet spot of timing: the drinks come quickly and the food not far behind, but the conversation and laughter all crawls at a hangover pace. Could be something to do with the synth pop and soul vibrating out of the light box—well, really it's more of a backlit, life-size diorama. A silhouette-of-a-DJ spins his records for the entire three-hour brunch (1 to 4 p.m.), and the music is a welcome sedative.

The menu is simple but spot-on. There's the Huevos Rancheros ($8) with a bed of Cuban black beans, salsa and cheese topped by a sunny side egg and served in a fried tortilla shell. Just the right amount of spice and weight and messiness while remaining on the fair side of greasy. The Pork Belly Benedict ($10) is a bit of a specialty. The meat is seared and served on a biscuit topped with a poached egg and maple butter hollandaise. Just for good measure, in case your the "I need to replenish my vitamins" type, a crisp snap pea salad is served on the side.

But the simply named Steak & Eggs ($8) is the hero of the day. Shredded hash browns are made into a neat little bed, and then sullied to perfection by slice upon slice of just-pink, grilled flatiron steak. Two poached eggs come floating on top, finished with a generous portion of tangy chimichurri. And though technically you can have the eggs any style, it's hard to imagine going scrambled on a plate like this, which begs for a little yolk to tie it all together.

Of course, the drinks are a draw, too. One of Nashville's best cocktail bars by night, serves up hangover greatness by day. Order a Mimosa ($6) with their fresh-squeezed OJ or Red Snapper ($6) with a house-made bloody mix. Or ask for whatever you want, like an original Mai Tai ($10) with fresh lime, house-made orgeat, Dry Curacao, Appleton Rum and a lightly spanked sprig of fresh mint. That heady aroma is just the tonic you'll need to slide into a Sunday bliss.

About the Author: W.S. Lyon wanders high and low places with a book in one hand and a drink in the other. He writes, works and lives in Nashville, TN.

[Photographs: Clay Larsen]

Headbanging all night would give anyone a hangover. Just ask the hard-partying guys behind Grill 'Em All Burgers, the long running heavy metal-themed burger truck that set up a brick and mortar base earlier this year in Alhambra. Now, for those not intimately familiar with the landscape of Los Angeles, Alhambra is part of the rolling procession of suburbia that moves west from downtown and doesn't stop until it burns up somewhere near the Salton Sea. "Valhalla", as Grill 'Em All's burger base is known, sits next to a Menchie's frozen yogurt and within thrashing distance of an Applebee's. Still, these dudes know how to rock.

The next time you wake up with a brain screaming 80's rock jams at you, hop in your AMC Pacer and drive east until you start to smell sizzling beef and bacon. Eventually, you'll come across Grill 'Em All's Dee Snider burger ($9), a beast of a burger named after the Twisted Sister frontman. The half pound of meat is served medium rare unless requested otherwise. It's plump, coarsely ground, juicy and perfectly salted, topped with thin strips of smoky bacon and a squirt or three of Sriracha. But that's not why you're ordering the Dee Snider. You're curing your hangover with an 80's hair band legend's namesake burger because it has peanut butter and jelly on it.

That's right; the Dee Snider is a PB&J burger with bacon and a Sriracha kick. And no, this isn't a one-off stunt burger. It's a part of Grill 'Em All's regular menu, and it's actually co-owner Ryan Harkin's favorite thing on the menu. It's not hard to taste why. The Dee (not to be confused with The D) is slapped up with enough peanut butter to give off a smooth, nutty undertone to all of that juice and salt from the patty. Then, when the chile-laced Sriracha and the bacon threaten to take over with their strong flavors, a cooling dose of grape jelly swings in to sugar up and mellow out the meal. It's indulgent, but Grill 'Em All's Dee Snider burger really works as a confluence of salty, sweet and spicy flavors.

The Dee Snider may not be your everyday burger, but you should put it in your phone under Emergency Contacts the next time your head is pounding like a drum. Grill 'Em All might be a haul for many, especially anyone rocking a nasty hangover, but the results inside Valhalla speak for themselves. Plus, if you catch a second wind, they pour full 16 ounce pints of some of the best craft brews around town. Heavy metal fan or not, that's music to anyone's ears.

Grill 'Em All Burgers

19 East Main Street, Alhambra 91801 (map) GrillEmAllTruck.com

[Photographs: Adam Lindsley]

The food scene in Portland, Oregon, often feels split between two objectives: one-upping the status quo with dishes you don't often find here, and reinforcing an obsession with comfort food. At Sweedeedee, a newish brunch spot in North Portland that entered my radar when Michael Russell of the Oregonian called it the "brunch find of the year," you'll find tradition and the unexpected coexisting harmoniously.

A quick glance at the corncakes plate ($10) may not strike you with the notion that it's particularly noteworthy. Flapjacks (of the corn variety, not that you'd know to look at them), eggs, bacon, and maple syrup? You can just go to Denny's for that stuff, right? You could, but none of it would be prepared with nearly the prowess of the Sweedeedee kitchen. Corncakes are a crapshoot on any menu, typically resulting in flat, dry, bland discs better suited for winging across an open field, but here the cornmeal-rich batter achieves a sweet and salty balance that's satisfying enough on its own as to render the accompanying dish of syrup unnecessary. Fat and moist, yet not undercooked, they're hearty breakfast fare worthy of your attention.

Don't ignore the rest of the plate, though. The baked eggs emerge from the oven impossibly tender and elicit a delightful crunch courtesy of a sprinkling of flaked sea salt over the golden yolks. Three strips of bacon, neither too crispy nor too chewy and pleasantly free of grease, nestle against the syrup cup, dying to go for a swim to hit even more sweet-and-savory notes. And the addition of braised greens is a master stroke; they provide much-needed bitterness to the indulgent array of sugars, fats, and proteins occupying the remaining real estate on your plate.

It's all quite filling, but don't leave the restaurant without ordering one of the most surprising desserts I've come across in ages: the honey pie ($4). It tastes like nothing I have ever eaten. Plenty of Pacific Northwest honey went into its creation, yet no honey to cross my palate tastes anything like this. I picked up notes of caramel and butter in the custard-like filling, and the sweetness is tempered by the application of sea salt and the plainspoken crust that shatters into flakes when attacked with your fork.

Word is getting out, and Sweedeedee is already drawing more diners than perhaps the kitchen is able to handle at its current capacity, so plan to get here before others in the neighborhood get the same idea you do.

Sweedeedee

5202 N Albina Avenue, Portland, OR 97217 (map); sweedeedeepdx.tumblr.com
503-946-8087

About the author: Adam Lindsley is a Pacific Northwest-based writer, musician, and the author of the pizza blog, This Is Pizza. You can follow him at @ThisIsPizza on Twitter. He thinks Belgian beer is just tops.

[Photographs: Lauren Sloss]

It's a truth universally acknowledged that most anything is made better when you put an egg on it. This is the case, ten-fold, when you have a hangover. Bonus points if the following are also involved: something fried, white bread, hot sauce. Save the hot sauce (and I'm sure it can be arranged), all of these components are in full, glorious force in the Fisherman's Breakfast ($10.50 NZD) at the Fresh Fish Market in downtown Tauranga.

This plate of food is big enough to share, and I highly recommend you do (remember: you're hungover, that doesn't mean you have to be totally stupid). $10.50 gets you two meaty, flaky hunks of fried snapper, a pile of french fries, a scoop of coleslaw, and two orange-yolked, perfectly runny fried eggs on top.

Tauranga is a seaside town, and a major port for boat traffic in New Zealand. So, this snapper is fresh, easily flaking apart with the touch of a fork.

And, the fish is perfectly battered and fried. The crusted exterior is delicate, almost tempura-like in texture and crispness, but it's greasy-in-a-good-way (all the better for your hangover, my pretty). This is a flavor-rich batter, too—I'm guessing seasoned salt, but these ladies aren't the kind to reveal secrets.

But those runny eggs really put it over the top. That gorgeous orange-gold yolk coats the fish, adding a lovely richness without rendering the fried crust soggy. The slaw is a nice flavor contrast, too. It's sweet and crisp without the gloppy mayonnaise texture of lesser coleslaws.

The french fries are a little undersalted, the white bread untoasted. But both provide excellent vehicles for mouth-stretching, egg-coated, all-in-one-bites. AKA: hangover curing manna from heaven.

Fresh Fish Market

1 Dive Crescent, Tauranga 3110 New Zealand (map)

About the author: Lauren Sloss is a bicoastal food-lover who is based in San Francisco. Some of her favorite things include The Black Keys, goat gouda, and guacamole. You can follow her on Twitter @laurensloss.

[Photographs: J. Kenji Lopez-Alt]

K Restaurant in Orlando is quite practiced in the art of curing hangovers. They don't always serve brunch, but when they do, they do it up right. Served only on the second Sunday of every month, their brunch menu is packed so full of hangover helpers it's hard to know where to even begin.

The awesome Creole BBQ Shrimp ($13) served with plenty of buttery sauce over an oozing pile of creamy Logan Turnpike grits would be a good place to start, as would the Fried Chicken ($19) that comes smothered in sausage gravy with a side of cheese biscuits.

But the real star is the Pork Belly Benedict ($17). A couple thick slabs of pork belly from Palmetto Creek are braised until fork tender, then fried until crisp and bubbly. They come perched not-so-delicately on top of a slice of tomato (this is Florida, where good tomato season comes more than once a year) and a split biscuit. Soft poached eggs from nearby Lake Meadow Naturals and a thick coat of hollandaise sauce finish it off, unless you count the scattering of microgreens, which are more just a polite gesture than an actual functional ingredient.

This is one of those hangover helpers that was so effective at stuffing my aching body with tasty, buttery fat that I actually needed a hangover helper helper to take the edge off as I started to come down off my pork-and-egg-fueled high. Best thing for the job? How about a bit of the hair of the dog?

The Deviled Eggs ($6), made with more of those Lake Meadow Naturals eggs come with creamy, mustardy yolks, a tart tomato jam, and a sprinkle of crisply crumbled bacon.

K Restaurant

1710 Edgewater Drive, Orlando, FL 32804‎ (map); 407-872-2332; krestaurant.net/

[Photograph: Clay Larsen]

Big is beautiful, right? Oversized margaritas, yard-long beers, shots the size of punch bowls? If you went large last night, chances are you're going to need a morning-after breakfast that's just as bulky. Bar Amá, the dinky downtown TexMex space that's helping to expand the chef Josef Centeno empire one puffy taco at a time, is just the place for you. You may have to request a four-top table to squeeze in you and your outsized hangover, but there's one breakfast item on the menu that will make you shudder in its shadow: the sausage breakfast taco.

Make no mistake, this thing is a monster, and not in that lurching, slow-moving way. The sausage breakfast taco is a Danny Boyle-style zombie, in your face and unexpected. It may not conform to traditional expectations of what a breakfast taco should be, but this is a new time we're living in, folks.

There's a lot to love about the sausage breakfast taco ($6), that's for sure. This thing is curvy, a half moon of thick hand-patted tortilla, blistered and spotty in all the right places. Instead of trying to button itself up inside the weighty tortilla, this chunky concoction spills hefty yellow nuggets of softly scrambled egg all over the place. You can't stop the breakfast taco; you can't even contain it.

Scrambled in with the egg is a small farm of meat, dairy and vegetables. Warming red salsa, fistfuls of melty cheese and a patch full of shredded lettuce give the pretense of a balanced meal, but that's about it. You'll also find chef Centeno's breakfast sausage tucked under the hood, a snappy series of well-seasoned pork bites that are pressed to the point of almost resembling a kielbasa.

Good luck picking this taco up off the plate. The tortilla is warm and pliable, but that certainly doesn't mean it's sturdy. Instead, go big with a knife and fork. Or, if you're feeling contrarian, shrug off the haters and dive in with two hands to feed your hangover beast. There's nothing subtle about your $6 breakfast taco, so why stop now?

One taco should be more than enough to satisfy a normal human, but ordering up two wouldn't break your weakened bank account and might help you sleep off your hangover for oh, say the next six months. No matter how many tacos you choose to order, or what your method of getting said taco(s) into your face is, you'll be sure to find a smile etched on your lips in no time. A wide grin, falling off the edges of your cheeks like a half-moon tortilla. After all, bigger is better these days.

Bar Amá

Menemen. [Photographs: Max Falkowitz]

More often than not my hangovers begin around 5 a.m. I wake up dazed and confused, not so much nauseous as suddenly worried about what dried mushrooms I have in my pantry. I get out of bed, check on them, and make a note of what to buy. I lie in bed waiting to fall back asleep. I read a post I wrote two years ago and decide I have to make some edits right now. I realize what a colossally bad idea this is and get back into bed.

It's now 10 a.m. and I'm still awake. I'm hungry, damn it, but not for a gut bomb that'll send me back to sleep. I've been awake for five hours and I intend to stay that way. This is usually when the Turkish food craving kicks in.

The Turks know what breakfast is all about, food that's nourishing and comforting but all about getting your day started right. So these days I haul myself on the 7 train to Sunnyside, home to Grill 43.

Meat may be the claimed specialty here, but I'm far more impressed by the vegetables and menemen ($5.95) pictured above. This tomato and egg stew is the Turkish edition of shakshuka, with onions cooked until they're buttery sweet and nubs of egg as soft as cottage cheese. Grill 43's version adds mild green chilies for a welcome vegetal counterpoint to the onions and tomatoes; they make sopping up the pool of orange oil all the more rewarding.

Grilled eggplant.

Go with a friend and split two dishes: the menemen and one of the eggplant offerings. The tomatoey sautéed spicy eggplant ($4.95) is excellent but a little redundant with menemen on the table. Better is the grilled eggplant ($6), which is grilled and smoked into utter submission, then soused with "whipped garlic sauce," a kind of thin aioli with lots of garlic and some scraps of bread for body. Pile it and your eggs onto the warm and poofy house bread for best results.

Grill 43 opens at 8 a.m. daily for breakfast at a more sober hour, but perhaps more important for cloudy headed late risers: they deliver, too. It's also worth mentioning the portion size of these dishes. The two above each fill out a large dinner plate for a total of twelve bucks, and with bread they're plenty for two people. Tell me again: how much did that fancy brunch place charge you for Eggs Benedict?

Grill 43

43-02 43rd Avenue, Sunnyside, NY 11104 (map)
718-706-0600
grill43turkishcuisine.com

About the author: Max Falkowitz is the editor of Serious Eats: New York. You can follow him on Twitter at @maxfalkowitz.

[Photographs: Adam Lindsley]

For a slow day at the office made even slower as a result of hitting the sauce a little fervently the night before (hey, no one's judging anyone here), a hearty bite of Tex-Mex is just what the doctor ordered. And it's what you'll order, too, if you find yourself in a similar predicament and manage to make your way to the doors of Trigger, the newest place in Portland to procure that soul-pleasing marriage of Texas and Mexican comfort food.

You may find Trigger's menu daunting at first, but you'll do right by zeroing in on the Spoonbread-Stuffed Chile Relleno. The large poblano pepper isn't breaded; instead it comes nearly blackened by heat and doused in tomatillo salsa and crema on a bed of black beans. Cut through the bittersweet, tender body of the pepper and you'll be greeted with soft cornmeal spoonbread mixed with a little goat cheese in place of the usual metric ton of Monterey Jack. As a result, the dish feels considerably less heavy than its battered-and-deep-fried brethren.

But your order's not complete yet: Trigger is one of the few restaurants outside of central Texas do nachos properly. You'll receive six large housemade chips, each piled with charred brisket ends, refried beans, melted cheese, sour cream, and tomatillo salsa, along with a pickled jalapeno on top. With every chip getting the same amount of toppings, it's hard to imagine why anyone would want to go back to the "dump everything on a big pile of chips" method that leaves bare every chip beneath the top layer.

Trigger is best considered a weekday hangover cure; if you show up before 5 p.m. on the weekend jonesing for Tex-Mex, you'll be staring down a CLOSED sign and have to drag yourself to a lesser establishment. (Of course, you could always take a nap and come back later.)

Trigger

128 NE Russel Street, Portland, OR 97212 (map); triggerpdx.com
503-327-8234

About the author: Adam Lindsley is a Pacific Northwest-based writer, musician, and the author of the pizza blog, This Is Pizza. You can follow him at @ThisIsPizza on Twitter. He is currently on a serious coffee stout kick, so if you have a particular favorite, be sure to let him know.

[Photograph: Lauren Sloss]

I appreciate hangover cures that get right to the quick-and-dirty point. Hair of the dog. Bacon. Done.

So is the case with the Breakfast of Champions ($9 NZD), a daily special served from 10 - 11:30 am at Mac's Astrolabe Brew Pub in Tauranga. Seeing as this is, well, a bar, there's a decent chance that you'll be returning to the scene of your previous night's crimes (and the reason for your rough morning). But buck up: Betty's Big Breakfast Bacon Butty (no, you don't have to use the full name when you order it) is a righteous anecdote, especially since a glass of Mac's Gold is included in the $9 NZD price tag.

The sandwich keeps it simple: a half-set fried egg is served atop a massive pile of bacon, doused in Betty's barbecue sauce, and sandwiched in a 'doughboy doorstop.' Meat, egg, bread, sauce.

The nature of New Zealand bacon, which includes the loin in addition to the belly, makes this a worthy sandwich filling (and it's the bulk of this one). You still get the fatty, crisp bits on the edge, but enough meaty heft to add some balance and salty ham-flavor.

The 'doughboy doorstop' sounds much less appealing than it is: the roll is sweet and soft, easily squishing down to surround the bacon and egg within (as with Astrolabe's burger, the bun was a decidedly big win for this sandwich).

It could have been even better, of course, with the addition of some hot sauce and/or some grilled tomato and/or some avocado and/or some cheddar cheese, but if I'm picking two ingredients, bacon and egg are pretty alright ones. And as for that beer—it's a pretty weak lager, one that I wouldn't necessarily order independent of this special. But considering a normal pint can run you $7.50, this is a damn good way to get your hair of the dog and a pile of bacon on a roll.

Mac's Astrolabe Brew Bar

82 Manganui Road, Mount Manganui, 3116, Bay of Plenty, New Zealand (map)
07 574 8155, astrolabe.co.nz

About the author: Lauren Sloss is a bicoastal food-lover who is based in San Francisco. Some of her favorite things include The Black Keys, goat gouda, and guacamole. You can follow her on Twitter @laurensloss.

[Photographs: J. Kenji Lopez-Alt]

I gotta admit it: when I was in Austin a few months ago, I simply could not wrap my head (or tortilla, for that matter) around the fuss surrounding breakfast tacos, and it wasn't for lack of trying. I hit Juan in a Million, Tacodeli, Tamale House, Taco X-Press, and a handful of others before I turned to my wife and said to her, "have you liked any of these?" Warmed-over buffet line flavor in most of them and overcooked eggs in all of them simply don't make for a satisfying bite on any level, no matter how awesomely flavorful and flaky the flour tortillas or fresh the salsa.

I don't know, maybe it's just something you have to grow up with.

At least, that's what I thought until I tried the Migas at Torchy's Tacos, soon followed by their Wrangler, with tender scrambled eggs, crisp potatoes, and smoked brisket in a fresh flour tortilla.

And we didn't stop there. As soon as that "ok, I get it" light switch flicked on, we went all out, plowing our way through both the breakfast menu (chorizo, egg, and cheese tacos, yum!) and most of the lunch menu before finally slowing to a halt, sipping our horchata, listlessly making tortilla sharks in the remnants of their of oozily delicious queso dip, basking in the post-tortilla glow of a few lunch dollars well-spent.

There's nothing on the menu at the several branches of Torchy's that wouldn't send a hangover back to the depths from whence it came, but might I make a few suggestions?

We've already told you about The Dirty Sanchez, with its fried poblano, scrambled eggs, and guacamole, but the Independent is another strong contender for best-in-show: a slab of deep-fried breaded portobello mushroom perched not-so-daintily on a pile of fresh corn kernels, piled with pickled carrots, avocado, queso fresco, and a squirt of ancho chili aioli. Did I say "perched not-so-daintily"? What I meant was "slammed raunchily".

Or if you crave meat in the morning, the Trailer Park is the way to go. Fried chicken, green chilies, a poblano pepper sauce, pico de gallo, shredded cheese, and a handful of shredded iceberg lettuce in a flour tortilla. What's that iceberg doing in there, you ask? Good question. Just say the words "extra dirty please," and that iceberg will be magically replaced with a ladleful of their excellent cheese sauce.

My favorite dish on the menu wasn't a taco, but Torchy's fresh-and-tasty version of esquites; Sweet corn kernels dressed with mayonnaise, lime juice, cilantro, queso fresco, and ancho chili powder. (Which, for the record, are far better than the frankly overrated version from Fuel City). Prices vary by location, but all dishes are in the $2 to $4 range.

Torchy's Tacos

Multiple Locations throughout Texas (Location finder); torchystacos.com

About the author: J. Kenji Lopez-Alt is the Chief Creative Officer of Serious Eats where he likes to explore the science of home cooking in his weekly column The Food Lab. You can follow him at @thefoodlab on Twitter, or at The Food Lab on Facebook.

[Photographs: Clay Larsen]

Have you ever had one of those nights where you walk into a bar in downtown Los Angeles, and wake up the next morning in San Antonio? You know, where the party starts off with a wall-high selection of tequilas and mezcal, and before you know it you're up and bleary-eyed, staring into a plate of Tex Mex specialty puffy tacos in southeastern Texas?

Perhaps not, but you can recreate the experience right downtown with a back-to-back trip to Josef Centeno's Bar Amá. The man behind Bäco Mercat (with their incredibly unique toron bäco sandwiches) has turned back to his roots with inspired Tex Mex fare. And what better flavors to soak up the debauchery that Bar Amá's own libations will get you involved in. Most everything here is thick and fresh, dripping with juices and warming to the core. But when you've got a mezcal hangover and the harsh morning light is streaming through the plate glass windows, look to the puffy tacos($10 to $12)—they're all you'll need.

While San Antonio may be able to lay claim to the puffy taco as a regional specialty, it's a wonderful thing to know that you don't actually have to make the trip to enjoy them anymore. Chef Centeno's version in the heart of downtown L.A. will do just fine, especially if you're coming off a bender. Each order comes two to a plate, stacked high with chopped lettuce and tomatoes, plus a generous dusting of cojita cheese. The carne guisada is a surefire winner with the 'please someone save me from this hangover' crowd, packed as it is with stewed and spiced beef. The shredded final version is dropped warmly inside the airy taco shell.

A few words about that puffy shell. It is definitely thin and light, but not as delicate as you might imagine. If anything, the fried masa is chewy and sturdy, sort of like a carnival fried dough, without all the sugar and heaviness. The disks are fried in peanut oil, which helps to keep them from becoming saggy and sloppy. Depending on the level of your hangover, actually navigating the oversized taco might be a bit of a challenge, but if you can manage to find the middle of your face, just poke around until you find an open mouth and you should be all set.

Pork barbacoa is another worthy filling, a stewed bit of pig that emerges tender and strong with porky flavor. Tomatillo salsa and a few dashes of cumin add to the earthiness of this version, but you'd be hard-pressed to go wrong with either. After all, you've got stewed meats, fresh vegetables, cheese, salsa, avocado and a whole lot of fried masa dough. You could take a wrong turn at Albuquerque with ingredients like that and still end up in hangover helper heaven.

Bar Amá

118 West 4TH St., Downtown Los Angeles 90013 (map)
bar-ama.com

[Photograph: Jay Friedman]

Meander's recently moved from its inside-a-Chinese-restaurant location (they never changed the Jade West Café sign) in West Seattle to a larger space just to the south in unincorporated White Center. Many miss the intimacy of the old space (including the chef/owner herself), but the new location—in an old bar but not serving booze--has a big back room with lounge area that features a pool table and a jukebox.

The Hangover ($9.50) is just what the carb doctor ordered: "a double order of crispy browns topped with homemade sausage gravy." Additional protein comes from two eggs, which I ordered over easy so that the yolks could run down the potatoes. Finishing the plate is a biscuit, a natural match with the gravy. If that's not enough carb action for you, do as I did and get a side of snowy beignets that come with house-made marionberry jam.

The potatoes are crisped until crunchy, holding up well even while swimming in the sauce. Really, though, this dish is all about that gravy. There are plenty of crumbles of sausage to satisfy, and the perfectly peppery flavor will perk you up for breakfast—served until the 3 p.m. closing time for those having slow mornings. Note, though, that the menus are slightly different weekdays and weekends; some of the weekday classics are missing on the weekends, but you can get waffles with fried chicken on Saturdays and Sundays. Furthermore, be coherent enough to know that Meander's is cash only (the owner disdains credit cards), though there's an ATM machine inside the restaurant if you're caught empty-handed.

Meander's Kitchen

9635 16th Avenue SW, Seattle, WA 98106 (map)
(206) 932-9840; Facebook page

About the author: Jay Friedman is a Seattle-based freelance food writer who happens to travel extensively as a sex educator. An avid fan of noodles (some call him "The Mein Man"), he sees sensuality in all foods, and blogs about it at his Gastrolust website. You can follow him on Twitter @jayfriedman.

[Photograph: Farley Elliott]

It's entirely possible that you've never considered pasta for breakfast. You've probably been thinking that the most important meal begins at cereal and ends at pancakes. That sounds like a nice life. Quaint even. Except that it's completely wrong.

Pasta for breakfast makes perfect sense, especially if you're hung over. There are fortifying starches and energy-rich carbs in every spiraling forkful. Plus, if you eat too much, your body goes into a pasta coma and you sleep away the rest of your hangover. That's just sound science.

What also can't be denied is the true pasta perfection that is the Pasta Papa ($12.75) from Hugo's in West Hollywood. The airy brunch spot is teeming on the weekends with hopeful diners looking to sate their appetites with a tempting array of vegan and vegetarian fare. But let's get real: your hangover requires something more than a few tempeh lettuce cups and some cucumber water. Keep flipping through the bulbous menu and you'll find the Pasta Papa you're after. It's right there under the Breakfast heading and everything!

So what do you get for your thirteen bucks? A pile of thick, slightly chewy spaghetti noodles, tossed and coated with fresh garlic and parsley, plus a few 'secret' spices that taste suspiciously like oregano and red pepper flakes. All of those tasty pasta tendrils come wrapped around thick chunks of griddled bacon and snappy turkey sausage, with chopped scallions on top for a touch of depth and parmesan cheese slivers held on the side. Oh, and there's supposed to be scrambled eggs inside, but you're no fool. You need fried eggs, two of 'em, wavy at the edges from their time in the heat with some olive oil, and offered sunny side up on top of your pasta concoction. Ask your waiter for the substitution, and watch their eyes go wide at the possibilities.

The end result is a meal so savory, so starchy and hearty and warm and meaty and funky and satisfying, it makes hangovers head for the door. It's a shame that it took a restaurant like Hugo's to finally show us the way, but now that we're all on the correct path, pasta breakfast will reign supreme for all eternity. Or... at least until your next hangover.

Hugo's

8401 Santa Monica Boulevard, West Hollywood, CA 90069 (map)