Stay classy, Ocean City.  (If you’ve never been, and have some Axe body spray you can put it in your mouth, it’s a little bit like that.) Our arrival was met with a dousing of liquid sunshine that went on for 72 straight hours.  If we’re keeping score, it actually rained every single day in each of the 7 states we visited. It’s probably also pertinent to mention here that I was four months pregnant on this trip – although apparently the meal you see below is some kind of “give away.”

“Grilled Cheese: Your choice of cheese, your choice of bread.”

I opted for American on white, and the results were adequate. The bread was unnecessarily saturated with whatever oily nonsense they grilled it with, but it was just distracting enough that I could pretend for a moment that my girly drink was legit. I was trolleyed right out of the land of make believe when a delightful woman at the bar broadcasted that “Only a pregnant girl would order a non-alcoholic daiquiri and a grilled cheese!” Despite my impulse to challenge her, I’ve come to understand that having the palate of a toddler should embarrass me legitimately, and probably not something I should continue to volunteer. I kept quiet, and I gave it a 6. ($5.99)

“The Sweetest Thing: Brie and Mascarpone cheese blended with raspberry preserve and chocolate chips.”

I have to confess something. I’ve been trying to mask this for some time, (so no harm would come to my cheese-loving reputation)…but here it is: I don’t like brie. I think it tastes like musty dirt curd, and it pisses me off that it’s allowed near food. I keep trying to like it, but inevitably become irked each time someone calls it an “acquired taste,” really just a pretentious way to say something tastes like shit until you get used to it. WHY FUCKING BOTHER?

Consequently, it was with trepidation that I sampled the gooey “treat” above. I will admit, it was not without merit, and it was by no means inedible. It was rich, and sweet, and messy – on paper, everything a good dessert grilled cheese should be. Unfortunately, my palate is not yet sophisticated enough to appreciate chocolate and wet basement mushrooms as a food pairing. I will keep working on it.  7/10.  ($6.99)

We began day 2 of our trip bright and early, hurling down the highway towards the coast with eighty other rumbling german imports. The rally had a number of planned stops before we reached Ocean City, so I figured skipping one of those would easily afford me this (teeny) little 7 mile deviation off highway 70, right?

“The Fresco: Fresh mozzarella & provolone cheese, fire roasted red peppers, basil pesto and a balsamic glaze:“

We lost the rally. A little bit. BUT LOOK AT IT. It’s hemorrhaging all things good, right there in my lap. Finally, 967 miles from home, a sandwich with enough heft and hot cheese to make my home state proud. If all that weren’t enough, (and it is, btw) they slathered the whole thing in peppers and pesto. Both tasted legitimately fresh, and came surfing out when I pulled the halves apart. Structurally, this bread was a delicate choice, barely equipped to support the load. Ultimately, though, it was perfectly grilled, and left a perfectly insufficient barricade between me and the best part of the sandwich. 9/10 ($7.99)