The Beefery

Isn’t «beefer» slang for a fart? I get beefer-​y when I’ve had too much milk.
Visited Angel Stadium on Memorial Day 2008 for an Angels/​Tigers game. (And let me just say, if you love poor baseball execution, that was epic. No runs until a bases-​loaded walk in the 12^th. 21 runners stranded. Excruciating.)
Naturally, the ballpark food was overpriced. Up around our nosebleed seats, the best option appeared to be The Beefery (near Section 413), so I tried that.
Went with the barbecue beef brisket sandwich ($ 8.75). For stadium food, it was very good. Plenty of sauce, reasonably fresh bread. The brisket could have been more tender; it certainly wasn’t the best brisket I’ve ever had. The price point made it a mediocre value.
Service was really pretty bad. The lines moved at a crawl, and the server I got seemed particularly slow. After preparing my sandwich, he spent several minutes looking for the plastic knives. Had I known the goal of his arduous quest, I would have told him I didn’t need a knife. Had I known I’d be kept waiting so long, I could have read the book I brought. Or invented some new, futuristic knife.
You could do worse at a ballpark, but your best bet would be to eat beforehand. Or sneak food into the park. Yeah, I said it.