Try to imagine a mechanic, circa 1959, building a rocketship out of spare parts in the shade of his backyard pecan tree.
That's what I do with food.
Every day I watch people stuffing lunch into their faces with laptops opened in front of them, or with stupid, stupid bluetooths jammed into their skulls, and think that these zombies should just pop a couple of sci-fi B-movie nutrient lozenges and stay in their cubicles forever and stop using my frequently tasty lunches as fuel for their suicide-by-tedium.
This is food for people who like food. It will require, and reward, your full participation. If you're ready to experience big flavors with about as much authenticity as a made-in-Japan cap pistol and almost as much subtlety as a plank upside the maxillary, come on in.
Welcome to the Diner.
For your assistance . . . The CalaMaori.
Almost every main course that shows up at Doc's Atomic Diner is going to have a bit of a slow burn. More commonly, there is a lot of slow burn following a very rapid burn. Always keep in mind that the Professor is the kind of guy who puts 5-spice powder in his desserts. For your safety, guides have been created in the Luau Laboratory to keep unwary experimenters from harming themselves or others. They are the CalaMaori: unerring, color-shifting guides of unquestionable intellegence and veracity.
The CalaMaori ranging from blue to red indicate the spice level of entrees, with blue being simply well-seasoned to red, which indicates an invigorating level of heat. Side dishes are marked with a green CalaMaori while you will be alerted to sweets by a purple CalaMaori. Trust the CalaMaori, my friends: they will not steer you wrong.
The CalaMaori are designed by Internationally Renowned Artist, Robert Jimenez.