Two weekends ago, my cousin treated me to the Vic Darchinyan-Jorge Arce boxing match at the Honda Center for my birthday. He scored club-level seats and also invited me to eat whatever I want. I had just treated him to Mariscos Licenciado #2 just up State College Boulevard, so I contented myself with a Kobe beef hamburger and fries. For the fight, everyone sitting in the club-level seats could flag down an usher, who would take their order and bring back food from a restaurant exclusive to the c
