My history of ingesting terrible things is a long and sordid one, punctuated by tales of heartburn, indigestion, and food-based shame that would likely require a far better therapist than my current insurance plan allows and will inevitably end with me in a gastronomical Thunderdome where Master Blaster is a Burger King Quad Stacker and Mad Max is my heart. Yet I have continued to do this in regular intervals throughout my life, mostly because I apparently don’t learn lessons and hate my body.
Since I hadn’t indulged in the absurd end of ingestion of late and have been maintaining what one would consider a reasonable diet, I figured it was time to get back on that delicious gravy-filled horse and see what the hell I have been missing. Turns out it is the Double Down from Kentucky Fried Chicken.
KFC, the chain chicken shack for which I’ve always had a soft spot, has moved on to repurposing and recycling a few of its core ingredients into a stack of something approximating a sandwich. Let’s just go to the source on this one, shall we? Per KFC’s website:
“The new KFC Double Down sandwich is real! This one-of-a-kind sandwich features two thick and juicy boneless white meat chicken filets (Original Recipe® or Grilled), two pieces of bacon, two melted slices of Monterey Jack and pepper jack cheese and Colonel's Sauce. This product is so meaty, there’s no room for a bun!”
Apart from the unsettling promise/threat of “Colonel’s Sauce” and KFC’s insistence that the sandwich is “real” and not just some sort fever dream magic sandwich conjured up at the saliva-soaked end of a joint, the Double Down seems ideal for an evening of artery pummeling.
In the interests of journalistic integrity, I ordered both the Grilled and Original Recipe®, although a grilled option here seems antithetical to the purpose of a sandwich intentionally designed to be absurd. If you’re ordering the Double Down and are so seriously considering the health implications that you think ordering it grilled will make a difference, then you may need to recalibrate your logic machine—if you’re going to take this plunge, then go all the way and get the fried version. Commit to something for once, man! Otherwise it’s like deciding to cheat on your spouse, making the plans, booking the hotel, buying some weird outfit, and then telling the lucky cheatee that it’s probably best to just sit in the hotel and watch Spectra Vision and talk. What I’m getting at is that Original Recipe® is not just vastly superior to the grilled, but the only way to eat this fast food construction deemed the unhealthiest sandwich on the market by the stats gurus at FiveThirtyEight (http://www.fivethirtyeight.com/2010/04/double-down-by-numbers-unhealthiest.html).
Both sandwiches came wrapped in sticky wax paper, like the greasiest of fair food, which in this case is a reasonable presentation method. I started with the Original Recipe® and upon first glance it is somewhat jarring how inconsequential it seems. The promise of the advertisements make it seem like this is going to be the kind of thing that if it couldn’t choke a horse, would at least slowly lead it to the promised land on a skiff made of grease and bacon. As it stands it is a surprisingly manageable lump of faux-sandwich.
The first bite, like the first glimpse, was indeed jarring—it isn’t all that terrible. Sure the primary flavors are salt and the half-melted cheese slices and the crumbling, but reasonably juicy breaded chicken. All in all it tastes like any kind of mid-range appetizer at a chain restaurant. The next few bites are when it got sticky.
I’m not quite sure what is in the “Colonel’s Sauce”—the folks eating with me concluded it is some sort of unholy mixture of Thousand Island dressing and ketchup and/or mayo—but the watery orange substance that burst out of the center of the sandwich, like so much fruit goo from a piece of Bubblicious Burst, is a soggy, salty mess. At this point I decide to scrape out the orange-y center and replace it with gravy. Why? I guess because I am a dignified sort, like a classy butler or a guy who records books on tape about famous naval battles.
The gravy does improve the general flavor and nearing the last bite I’m left with not so much the feeling of shameful gluttony that generally comes with these things, but a shoulder shrug. It’s a battered and greased up “sandwich” that tastes like most fast food chicken concoctions.
Of course, this is before I got to the grilled version.
Thanks to Oprah’s relentless promotion and coupon giveaways, KFC’s line of grilled chicken products was met with the kind of ecstatic response usually reserved for the unveiling of Apple products or the second coming of Christ in a Camaro. The massive lines and uproar when KFC ran out of the grilled chicken was an unsettling glimpse into not just the power of Oprah and advertising, but a disturbing symptom of an economy in collapse.
The wax paper for the Double Down Grilled came soaked in the chicken juices and the Colonel’s secret spices, so soaked that when I picked up the sandwich the mess of brown simply oozed out of the wax paper and over my hands, plate, and beard. The grilled chicken works poorly as a bread substitute in comparison to the battered and fried version, simply because the batter hews much closer to a bread or bread-like substance. As for the flavor, well, it isn’t pretty. If the Original version simply tasted like a par-for-the-course chicken and cheese appetizer, this was decidedly rubbery and soggy with each bite becoming lost in a mess of gelatinous cheese slices and limp bacon. I couldn’t finish it and set it aside. As much as I enjoy the occasional lapse into ridiculous foodery, this was simply my limit for this kind of thing.
This brings me to a bigger point about “ridiculous eats.” The actual good ones are rare breeds indeed. Think of going to town on a pile of duck fat fries and antelope/buffalo sausage slathered in sheep’s milk cheese at Hot Doug’s or bulldozing through the Thurman Café’s Thurman Burger, a beautiful monstrosity of ham, beef, and a mountain of various toppings and that’s when one gets the idea of what a ridiculous plate of food can be at its best. In their own way they are gastronomical works of pop art—exaggerated and enlarged versions of familiar things that are made different or redefined, and in some cases made better by their very exaggeration or recasting—objets d’edibles. It also helps that they are foods created by actual craftspeople, folks who give a good goddamn about the whole enterprise and use the exercise of excess in the service of something more than shameless gluttony.
Created out of a need to repurpose, reuse, and recycle excess/overproduced ingredients the Double Down isn’t so much the mountain of ridiculousness that the ads would have one believe, but an object that exists as its own salty monument—to sodium, to fat, to the fact I paid six bucks for it, to a repurposing without purpose. It is a lot to place on a sandwich, but as each bite came closer to the bitter end, the simultaneous shame and joy (and there’s nothing I love more than simultaneous shame and joy) that can come with eating something so absurd dissipated into a mess of brown and a pile of goo in wax paper.
Verdict: The Original Recipe® is a decent enough piece of fast foodery. The Grilled? Not so much. Stick with something else on the KFC menu.
Affiliated with the Buckeye Brewing Company, the Beer Engine is a comfy little spot to grab any number of delicious beers, both from Buckeye and abroad, as well as chow on some seriously tasty bar food. And since Buckeye offers weekly and monthly specials every visit is new and exciting. For example March’s Ridiculously Huge Burger of the Month is the so-called O’Fatty Melt. Where the Beer Engine’s Fatty Melt nestles one of their ½ pound burgers between two grilled cheese sandwiches, the O’Fatty swaps out the grilled cheese for two (that’s right, 2) grilled Rubens! Seriously.
And at a place called the Beer Engine there was certainly beer being drunk, right? You bet there was! Round one I went up against Southern Tier’s Backburner 2010, the brewery’s latest entry in their annual Barley Wine run. With 10% ABV and a metric buttload of hops and malt, Backburner is a pretty serious brew, but certainly one of the most even keeled Barley Wines I’ve ever sampled. Most are so crammed with hops that they taste of grapefruits lost in pine forests (definitely a good thing), but this particular iteration falls more into the malty/caramel-y camp. In the second round I took on Buckeye’s own Beaucoup D’Houblon. A double IPA with saison tendencies, this ultra hoppy beer (115 IBUs) combines fruity esters and grassy/hay flavors to create a flavor profile similar to that of bubblegum! Not at all what I would expect a beer to taste like and I was certainly skeptical of the draught list that said as much, but there it was. Amazing hops burst, followed by grass and fruits, with an aftertaste that suggests a few hours old piece of original Bubble-Yum; delicious!
Day two of this reunion was carried on at Fat Head’s Brewery and Saloon on Monday night, this time we were accompanied by Nick’s wife Melanie as well as Nicole. Fat Head’s is a Pennsylvania based brew pub that opened a branch in North Olmstead in the past few years. Fat Head’s boasts a roster of 10 beers brewed on rotation or based on season as well as offering dozens of other choice micro brews. March is, apparently, “Head Strong Month” at Fat Head, offering up “40+ extreme beers.” This means Fat Head’s guest beers, as well as a few of their own brews, are offering higher ABVs and IBUs, read as: beers not for the faint of heart. I started the evening off with a pour of Fat Head’s own Hop Juju Imperial IPA. Clocking in at 100 IBU and 9.3% this was a seriously delicious draught. Lots of citrusy hops and just the right hint of malt made this go down quicker and smoother than it should have. To chase it I moved over to the guest list for a Brooklyn Blast Imperial IPA (8.2% ABV). Another hopped up offering that drinks like the Brooklyn East India Pale Ale turned up to ten. It’s initially grapefruit city, then briefly detours into floral town, before swerving into a piney rest stop; like gin and grapefruit juice, only much, much better.
While most of the beers at Fat Head are big and flavorful, the “Fat” in the name comes from the food menu. There is nothing small or restrained about the menu, each appetizer, sandwich, and burger is bigger and meaner than the last. Having gorged on burger the night prior I skipped over that delicious and inimitable section in favor of the “Headwiches.” But with so many options I was completely stuck for what to get. My first thought was the “Bay of Pigs,” a mammoth take on the Cuban sandwich. Or maybe the “Head Banger,” a sandwich-ized take on the pub classic bangers and mash. Ultimately I picked the “South Side Slopes” for a variety of reasons—most of which were between the buns—but also because it was picked as one of the Best Sandwiches in the USA by that paragon of journalistic integrity: Maxim Magazine. I had to know if they were right or not. But before judgment is passed, let’s take a look inside. This monster starts with a huge grilled kielbasa, then topped by potato-cheddar pierogies, caramelized onions, cheese, and horsey sauce. Not to shabby, but does it all add up? At first, only sort of. Although I tried to get a little bit of everything into the first few bites I found the rest of the components to be totally over powered by the big and bold kielbasa. But after a few bites I finally got into it. The potato and pasta in the pierogies help mellow out the smokey bite of the sausage while the tangy cheddar and horseradish add some sharper notes to the big brassy tones of sausage and potato. And the caramelized onions once again add some much needed sweetness to the mix. Delicious to be sure, but I’m not sure if it ranks as one of the Best Sandwiches in the USA.”
The band scored an out-of-town gig this weekend, so Friday night we loaded up the car and made the trek up to Detroit for a show with our friends the Sons of Adray. The show was at a cozy little dive called the New Way Bar. The New Way was the perfect spot for our bands’ reunion: dark, hot, and smokey with Elvis and British heavy metal serving as the between band soundtrack and on of the coolest sound guys ever. The beer selection at the New Way is almost exclusively domestic bottles and cans and the liquor shelf was comprised mostly of whiskey. You could pay a few dollars more for a Heineken or a Corona, but then again you could also pay some one to punch you until you felt tipsy. Basically what I’m trying to say here is that the New Way is the quintessential dive bar with an uncharacteristically clean rest room. After playing and sweating and partying into the night and sleeping it off on chairs and couches and floors and the Adray’s drummer’s house we headed back to Ohio sometime around 12:30 or 1:00pm. Our mission for the drive home, besides a safe return, was sweet, sweet sustenance.
I have no idea how long Gander’s has been in Luna Pier, but the building and hand-painted sign suggest a long time. The inside, however was updated at some point; the late 80s would be my guess, but it’s a bright, friendly space with booths lining the walls of the small dining room, a few tables in the middle, and a counter that serves as the (gasp!) smoking area. We seated ourselves and ordered water and coffee. The coffee at Gander’s is exactly what a diner should serve: dark, rich coffee that tastes like coffee. No fancy roasts or blends just flavorful, rejuvenating coffee. And thankfully, too, as it seems like it’s harder and harder to find a good, simple cup anymore. Sure, there are a number of excellent local boutique shops in the area and chains like Starbucks offer a great brew, but sometimes a simpler cup is what the doctor orders. Anyways, I’m digressing. Gander’s menu is exactly what one would expect from such and establishment, burgers, hot sandwiches, chicken/steak/meatloaf in the entrees, and breakfast served all day.
Gander’s is certainly light on flash and flare, but they more than make up for a lack of fanciness with excellent food, friendly service and a damn fine cup of coffee. This restaurant is absolutely worth the hour’s layover in Luna Pier, plus it gives you an excuse to visit the pier and Beef Jerky Unlimited which offers way more flavors of jerked animal flesh than I could ever imagine (gator or buffalo jerky, anyone?).
But thinking of Polleyes got me thinking more, and it dawned on me: Stuffed Fucking Breadsticks! Fellow alumni, friends of Falcons, and family should all know about the magic of Campus Polleyes’ stuffed breadsticks, but for those who missed out on the magical powers of Northwest Ohio’s “World Famous” (according to their menu) Stuffed Breadsticks let me let you in. The stuffed breadstick is pretty straight forward menu option; a sheet of bread dough is layered with cheese and the customer’s choice of pizza toppings. Chicken and roast beef are likely the two most popular, but almost anything that can go on a pizza can go in a bread stick. While the chicken and cheese was a long time favorite of mine, this go round I opted for the taco style. In this iteration, the breadstick is filled with Colby-Jack cheese and seasoned ground beef. After a stint in the oven, the breadsticks are served with optional garlic butter on top (delicious) and customer’s choice of pizza sauce, house made ranch, nacho cheese, or barbeque sauce. The ranch and the cheese are the most delicious so I chose those two to accompany my sticks.
The second course of this nostalgia feast came from the one and only Myles’ Pizza Pub. An operational monument to extreme foods Myles’ loads and re-loads all their pizzas with double or triple the amount of toppings normally found on a pizza then tops their thick crusted beauties with handfuls of cheese. Not New York and not Chicago, Myles’ is a pizza unto itself and a must try for any/all pizza aficionado. Myles’ menu boasts a huge array of sides (tomato bread is a popular favorite), massive salads, and incredible pizzas. But the stars of the Myles’ line up are the “Lovers Pizzas.” To clarify, these pizzas are for lovers of their toppings and not aphrodisiacs, unless of course feeling bloated and overstuffed is your idea of sexy time. And with 9 in the line the Lovers Pizzas offer something for everyone. The Breakfast Lovers is topped with scrambled eggs and breakfast meats, the Mexico Lovers mixes seasoned ground beef and spicy sausage in tangy pizza salsa then tops off with all the usual taco fillers (lettuce, tomatoes, olives, etc.), the Wild-West Lovers is cram jammed with bacon, mushrooms, and ground buffalo (when available, otherwise it’s ground beef). But my favorite has always been the Spice Lovers. With a massive layer of spicy pepperoni, salami, and homemade Italian sausage sandwiched between Myles’ perfection-nearing sauce and mound of cheese, this pizza packs plenty of pleasing zing into every bite. Topped with a little crushed red pepper and this is pizza heaven. Should you leave Myles’ Pizza Pub anything short of filled to bursting, the Myles family also operates BG’s Dairy Queen and approaches the Blizzard and sundae making business in the same manner they make their pizzas: bigger, better, more. A small blizzard at Myles’ DQ is equivalent to the mediums at most other franchises, and has as much of your topping of choice mixed in as is structurally possible.
Rounding out this hearty cast of characters is a lesser known, but my no means less delicious component of the Bowling Green food community: the hummus and pita chips from South Side 6. SS6 has been a part of the BG community for years and for most of that time they were simply a beverage store offering up a variety of beers and sodas on the southern edge of town. Around 2003 or so the owners of SS6, a family from the Middle East, added a food service counter to mix and started serving up gyros, falafel, and other fare from that region. Everything I sampled from there was pretty outstanding, especially the falafel pita roll and the fries with tangy garlic sauce, but the hidden jewels on the South Side 6 menu are the hummus and pita chips. The hummus seems simple enough, but there’s something extra special about it I’ve never been able to put my finger on. It makes almost anything that’s dipped into it mouthwateringly delicious, and my guess is that it has extra garlic and tahini in it. The pita chips SS6 offers by the bag full have something special about them, too, but their greatness is easier to pin down. First of all they’re fried crisp giving them a texture similar to a tortilla chip, but they’re also topped with a savory and slightly spicy herb and spice mix that certainly contains basil, oregano, garlic and onion powders, and sesame seeds. There’s got to more to it than than that, but anything subtler gets lost in the mélange of other spices and the hummus. South Side 6 pita and hummus makes a great snack or side, but it’s good enough that I’ve made meals out of it more than once.
The location of this gorging was Cleveland Heights’ own Cedar Lee Pub & Grill. Located about a block from the similarly named movie theatre, the Cedar Lee Pub occupies a great location. Inside the bar is simple and welcoming; a large bar is centrally located with seating areas on either side. The minimal décor is charming with little on the walls to distract and our two-person booth was cozy and comfortable. Cedar Lee Pub offers a solid beer list and hosts some great nightly specials (on Monday night five bucks will get you a burger, fries, and a Labatt draught!). At a glance the CLP&G’s menu offers standard bar food, sandwiches, salads, wraps, etc., but nestled in the center panel of the menu is a laundry list of some really amazing burgers. The “Boss Hog” boasts pulled barbequed pork and fried onions, the “Polish” adds pierogies to the burger, and the “Say Cheese” is loaded with three different cheeses, bacon, and tomato on toasty garlic bread. Needless to say, the Cedar Lee Pub & Grill is not messing around.
Struck by a sudden sushi craving Nicole and I investigated Ariyoshi Japanese Restaurant on Lee Road. Ariyoshi’s dining room is elegantly understated, and patrons may sit at either a table, dressed simply in white, or at the sushi bar. What Ariyoshi lacks in décor is more than made up for in menu. The number of food options is almost dizzying, to help sort things out we ordered warm sake and hot tea. The tea was a delicious, full bodied green tea, the kind you only seem to get at good Japanese restaurants and decent coffee shops and the sake was good. I guess? I don’t know that much about sake but I know what tastes good and we had no problem putting this down. Its pungent first taste was well complemented by its subtle floral and vanilla aftertastes. Having finally made my decision, Nicole had no problem making hers, we ordered. Our meal consisted of:
As outspoken proponents of the breakfast and brunch arts, Nicole and I are always on the prowl for great morning grub. While the Inn on Coventry is our go-to breakfast spot, there are numerous places in Cleveland serving up delicious morning munchies. A few weeks ago when we both had a Saturday off together we headed over to Shaker to eat at the Vine and Bean Café. Nestled in the cozy first floor of one of Shaker’s elegant old homes, Vine and Bean has the atmosphere any place serving breakfast should seek: homey and relaxed with the wonderful smells of coffee and the griddle filtering throughout. Vine and Bean’s dishes are all made from the freshest local ingredients seasonally available so the menu is subject to change, but it seems their chef is on point as the whole thing looks amazing. We started with cups of their fresh brewed coffee. Vine and Bean is a coffee shop in addition to restaurant so they know their way around a cuppa, and their dark roast is an excellent, full bodied way to start a meal. For our brunch I ordered the Gingerbread Waffles. Two huge, hearty homemade waffles loaded with cinnamon, nutmeg, and clove, these uber-waffles come piled with maple poached apples, honey-whipped cream, and homemade caramel sauce. The amazing this about this was, that for as massive and rich everything was, at no point did it seem overwhelming. Sweet, sour, spice and fat were all in perfect balance in this dish and it disappeared off my plate almost immediately. Nicole opted for the biscuits and gravy. We had both concurred that we were neither of us huge fans of this southern standard, but V&B’s iteration of this classic must be tried. Built on a base of cheddar scallion biscuits, topped with scrambled eggs, and a creamy sausage gravy loaded with sausage bits. Simple but somehow refined, Vine and Bean has turned this simple fair into a modern and almost elegant dish without losing any of its rugged charm. And it doesn’t stop at breakfast, Vine and Bean delivers modern takes on classic cuisine all day long with an equally amazing sounding lunch and dinner menu.
Rounding out the dining adventures I’ve had recently but haven’t been able to post up is Number 1 Pho. I feel like this restaurant has been in Cleveland forever, but it wasn’t until about two weeks ago that I finally made it in. My only regret is not eating there sooner! Pho, if you’re not familiar, is a Vietnamese soup. The base of which is boiling hot beef broth and rice noodles into which sliced, rare beef is added to continue cooking. Bean sprouts, basil, peppers, lime, and hot and soy sauces can be added to taste. Working with a somewhat loose set of ingredients, Pho is almost endlessly customizable or variable depending on available ingredients, location, and dietary constraints. We started our meal with an appetizer made of spiced shrimp paste wrapped around pieces of sugar cane and steamed. With a side of sweet spicy chili sauce, this was a great little bite to kick start the old gastric juices. For the main course we both ordered the soup. Nicole chose the Pho with sliced beef and beef balls. With the basil and lime and hot sauce, this dish had everything going for it. Hearty and savory with a nice bit of acidity from the lime and a serious kick from the hot sauce it verged on a perfect flavor profile. The rare beef added to cook in the broth was wonderfully tender and the meat balls were perfectly cooked and seasoned, but had an interesting texture. I opted for the seafood variant, with a delicious fish stock as the base this soup was loaded with shrimp, squid, and fish balls. I was a little nervous about the so called fish balls at first, but they were delicious and tender, with a little bit of the stock they were the very essence of the taste of good seafood. The seafood soup arrives unadorned but is spiked with a handful of onions to add some depth to the dish. Amazing and delicious, but searing hot on it arrival, Pho is something to sip and savor, not wolf down.
Our first stop was the Velvet Tango Room on Columbus Road. Nestled in the first floor of a 
While VTR’s mission is to present the highest quality cocktail possible, drawing on the mixology’s rich history, they’re not above innovation. Combing the best spirits available with the finest mixers and a slew of house made sodas, syrups, and bitters means VTR’s libations are as potent as they are delicious. After perusing both—that’s right both—drink menus Nicole and I ordered. For her a Manhattan. A classic cocktail usually consisting of bourbon or whiskey, vermouth, and bitters, the Tango Manhattan features VTR’s own wine reduction syrup, giving the drink a fullness and warmth not usually found in the traditional recipe. Served up in a cocktail glass this was one of the best Manhattan’s I’ve ever tried. I ordered the Old Fashioned. Building on a foundation of citrus muddled with sugar and bitters, this whiskey drink beautifully balances three of the four tastes. Deliciously smooth to sip with a beautifully subtle finish, this is easily one of the best cocktails I’ve ever had. Certainly a great way to start the evening, but all this perfection has a price, so be prepared to shell out or get there early for happy hour! This is certainly the Cleveland parallel to Chicago’s Violet Hour.
With fancy-pants drinks tickling our hungry bones we departed the Velvet Tango Room in search of some eats. During one’s time in Ohio City there are plenty of food options, but hungering for something new we made for ABC the Tavern at Nicole’s suggestion. A bar that’s trapped between dive and respectable, ABC’s atmosphere is an atmosphere of no atmosphere. High ceilings, little to no décor, and dim lighting should signal blandsville, but somehow ABC pulls it off. We seated ourselves to a soundtrack of Al Green’s greatest hits—almost always appropriate—and ordered a round of Dogfish Head 60 Minute IPAs (along with Sierra Nevada’s pale this is one of the best widely available IPAs in the country). We scanned the short but tasty menu filled with bar food standards—appetizers, sandwiches, sides, etc.—and placed an order for their burger and the Jamaican Jerk Chicken sandwich. 
Our hunger pacified for the time being we were still looking for a little of that night life, so we made one last stop before heading home in what would eventually become last week’s Snowpacalypse. Our last call of the evening was made at the Academy Tavern on Larchmere in the Shaker neighbor hood. Another no-frills, locals and regulars type joint, the Academy is the place to go for an Early Bird Special, the game on TV, and plenty of beer that tastes like beer. The perfect spot to end a great night out. We ordered a few Beam-and-Ginger-Ales, the drink that’s quickly becoming the drink of choice as winter winds down, and watched the Cavs come from behind for decisive victory over the hated Celtics. There’s nothing fancy about the Academy, but who needs fancy when you’re just plain good?
(OK, not this one exactly. This is one of the west-side locations, but the east-side shop is too new to have Internet pictures up yet)
We arrived in Chicago around nine having dined on leftover Gallucci’s pizza 
Girl Talk at the Congress Theatre was a blast, starting about 11:30 we all danced and partied until he called it quits around 1:00 or 1:30am. The venue was great and a movie-set style house was built as a back drop, giving the whole shindig a house party feel. And what, you may ask, did we toast the new year with? Why that champagne of beers, Miller High-Life, of course!
Post show we left our fellow revelers and made for the Flat Iron, a bar a few train stops away. Best part about this was the free train fare on New Year’s Eve, thanks Chicago! Arriving at the Flat Iron around 2:30 we grabbed a few PBRs and found our fellow revelers from the first party. After a few late night rounds our hunger returned so Nicole and I, along with her friend Gavin, trekked what seemed like a million blocks in the cold and blowy Chicago weather for some of the tastiest Mexican food north of the border: Arturo’s. Regular readers of this blog will remember Arturo’s from our last journey to Chicago, but it’s so good it bears repeating.
Arturo’s in an unassuming little place, patrons seat themselves and may have to share some of the larger tables should the place become overly crowded, as it was at about 4am on New Year’s Eve/Day. Luckily we were able to find a table to ourselves in the back corner. Service was a little slow that evening, but it was completely filled and probably had been since earlier that evening so I can’t fault them for being delicious and busy as a result. Eventually we ordered and our food arrived, it was slow but well worth the wait. I ordered a taco barbacoa: tender, savory steamed beef (think Mexican pot roast); one taco al pastor: spit roasted, seasoned beef (the “Mexican Gyro”), and a quesadilla (not on the menu, but they seem happy to make it for you). Everything was so delicious and simple, there aren’t tons of layers of cheese or excessive amounts of lettuce and tomato, just the filler, some onion, and a bit of cilantro on a homemade corn tortilla (which I think is their secret). Sated and weary we wandered back into the cold and made for Gavin’s apartment, which was the closest crash pad.
The next morning we needed to excise the bit of hangover still hanging around, so the three of us walked to the Silver Could. A simple bar and restaurant, Silver Cloud offers delicious breakfast options and a tasty lunch/dinner menu. Looking for something simple and homey, I ordered the breakfast sandwich. Two eggs over medium, cheddar, and bacon on whole wheat was just what the doctor ordered, and the few bites I had of Nicole’s Salmon Benedict were pretty amazing, too. I think a mark of a good restaurant is the quality of their Hollandaise sauce. As a long time not-fan of the warm yellowy topping I believe that if a restaurant can make a Hollandaise that I can not only eat but enjoy then it must be good. Plus a little smoked salmon never hurt nothing.
We made it to Handle Bar in one frozen piece hungry and excited to eat. Handle Bar, for my Cleveland readers, is kind of like having Tommy’s relocate to the Grog Shop, serving up delicious vegan, vegetarian, and seafood dishes in a punk atmosphere—we dined to the entirety of the Ramones’ eponymous debut and then a solid chunk of the Nugets collection. Despite our chilly exteriors we chose to warm our insides with a pint each of Three Floyds’ Pride & Joy. A “mild ale” according to their website, Pride & Joy as a wonderful floral nose with a nice hop punch up front and smooth citrusy finish. Much like Tommy’s, Handle Bar’s menu is pretty simple featuring lots of sandwiches. Having had little vegetable matter in us in the last 48 hours or so Nicole chose the Green Meanie: avocado, herbed goat cheese, spinach, sprouts, tomato, and honey mustard on whole grain bread. The tomato-less bite I had was delicious! Also feeling the need for green I chose the Grilled Tofu sandwich: spice rubbed tofu, spinach, sprouts, and avocado spread on wholegrain bread. The spice crust on the tofu was excellent and didn’t mind the hot sauce boost I gave it, this was completed by the creamy avocado spread, and all this soft palate food was counter pointed by the crisp greens. But, as good as the beer and sandwiches were the real star of the show that night was the smoked gouda mac-n-cheese. Oh. My. Fucking. God. This was one of the most delicious things I’ve ever been fortunate to put in my eat hole. Perfectly prepared the noodles were still a little al dente, the sauce was thick and creamy, and the smokiness of the Gouda provided excellent balance to the rich sauce it helped create. I’m going out on a limb here, but I’ll say it: best mac-n-cheese, ever.
With beer and (mostly) healthy, (totally) delicious food to steel ourselves against the cold we journeyed out into the arctic winds once more. Our ultimate destination was Inner Town Pub where our friends were continuing the weekend’s festivities, but we had another stop to make along the way. I’ve been lucky to have Nicole with my on these last few trips to Chicago. Having lived there for several years she knows a lot more interesting places to eat and drink than I could ever hope to stumble on or Google search for. Her suggestion for a digestif was The Violet Hour. Stashed away in a relatively unmarked building on North Damen, Violet Hour seeks to recreate the atmosphere of prohibition era speakeasies. The serve sophisticated, classic cocktails sometimes with a modern twist in a sprawling, mostly candle lit dining room and bar, with booths and tables masked from one another by curtains and high backs. Adding to atmosphere and mystery, Violet Hour concocts a large portion of their drink components, going so far as to brew their own bitters and steep their own flavored liqueurs. What does this all mean? Amazing cocktails well worth the $12 price tag, served in a bar the likes of which are rarely seen these days. I ordered the Daisy 17, assembled thusly: Wild Turkey 101 Rye, lemon, house Grenadine, and house orange bitters. As a flourish before serving, the drink is also showered by flaming orange oil. Sha, and might I add Zam! Not only did this taste amazing, sweet from the grenadine, sour from the lemon, bitter from the bitters and rye; but it packs quite a whallop. Despite the mixers the Daisy 17 is still mostly rye, and 101 proof at that. Top three mixed drinks of all time? I’d say so. Nicole’s drink was equally complex and delicious, and though the name escapes me at the moment, it was along the lines of a dry Manhattan spiked with the Violet Hour’s house made coffee bitters. If you’re looking to impress that special someone on your next trip to Chicago, Violet Hour is a must, just be patient trying to find it.
The Cadillacs of cocktails fueling our engines and stoking our furnaces we continued our icy walk to the Inner Town Pub. A dim, dirty, dive of a bar where I felt a little more comfortable, or certainly not under dressed, at the Inner Town. We found our friends and discussed the night’s adventures over pints of Pinhead Pale Ale. One of the lighter entries in the pale ale family, Pinhead is fully but not overwhelmingly hoppy, yielding floral and light citrus tastes from its bouquet. A great jumping off point for people interested in pale ales but wary of too much hops. Having lost track of time and arriving later in the evening we had time for only a beer before last call. It was at this point that a decision had to be made: continue the party elsewhere or call it a night. The call to party on was made. The new question was: where?
Because of our location and the time of night a few of us—Nicole, Maureen, Sara, and me—ventured on to The Continental. Another dive-y bar that keeps its doors open until 4am. Among the first of the late night crowd to arrive we had no problem ordering a few PBRs and finding a seat. Within a half-hour or so the place began to fill up with other folks looking to keep the night alive. We drank our beers and talked a while until the DJs started playing really fantastic music. Mostly obscure 60’s funk/soul/R&B so we all decided to get up and cut a rug. We danced and drank cheap beer until getting the boot at 4:00 when we finally decided to call it a night. Although in not-unreasonable walking distance, it was certainly no warmer at 4am that it had been at 2, midnight, or 10 so we were eternally grateful for the grouchy cab driver who picked us up.
After a good night’s sleep we awoke with one last mission before leaving Chicago: best lunch ever. It was determined that the place offering best odds on this endeavor was the now infamous Kuma’s Corner. What had started out as a not-so-quiet little bar and restaurant has become the heavy metal hang out for hipsters, foodies, and families alike. However, our first attempt to dine in was foiled by the enormous line for tables, like 3 hours or so. We left, investigated some local vintage stores, and picked up Maureen before heading back to Kuma’s. This time we were, as they say, “in it to win it,” so we hunkered down for the 2-3 hour wait. The wait was interesting as we got to see the vast array of Kuma’s clientele. There were, of course, the requisite metal dudes sporting their favorite black tee shirts emblazoned with increasingly inscrutable metal fonts and gory imagery. There were also the cool kids, investigating some place that’s been recently recognized as “hip enough.” But the strangest groups of people waiting for tables were the families. Kuma’s décor is pretty minimal, simple tables and chairs, a nicely carved bar, fairly well lit, but the music was primarily metal and the art on the walls was comprised largely of prints of partially naked women in bondage gear, some covered in Technicolor-red blood. No skin off my back, really, but it did make me wonder what the parents of the tweens waiting for burgers were thinking when they noticed. Anyways, we waited and waited before finally deciding that a beer might help the waiting process so Nicole and I split a pint of Three Floyds’ Gumball Head, the brewery’s wheat beer offering that drinks like an ale. Gumball Head is less cloudy than most wheat beers and way hoppier, too, but the hops and the wheat balance out making for a seriously enjoyable brew with bitter-sweet citrus notes. Unfortunately Three Floyds doesn’t distribute here in Ohio but if you’re ever in the greater Chicago metropolitan area pick up a case or two! We continued waiting, and waiting and finally decided that the second hour of waiting deserved another beer, this round: Three Floyds’ Alpha King. An amber colored American pale ale, Alpha King was definitely the most intense of the Three Floyds beers I tried on this trip. Just a hint of malt on the tip of the tongue then it’s all hops. Bracingly bitter with a grapefruit finish and a kiss of pine aftertaste, perfection in a glass. And our wait wore on and on, we watched all sorts of people come and go, drooling over the amazing food that was being hurried past us but a wait staff that no doubt saw the hunger and desperation in our eyes. And then, finally, just as we began to give up hope they called our names.
Seated, we poured over the menu trying to figure what to eat and what we’d seen served during our wait. There was the mountainous Slayer a burger served atop a plate of fries and topped with anger! There were the pulled pork fries, barbequed pork and cheese draped atop Kuma’s waffle fries. And, of course, there was the build-your-own mac-n-cheese. So many options but only one stomach. It was agreed before we were seated that our repast would consist of, at least in part, the pulled pork fries. This was a great decision. The pork is perfectly slow-cooked and drenched in one of the best barbeque sauces I’ve ever tasted. Spicy and sweet like a good barbeque sauce should be, but there was something else to it that pushed it past good and way into great. What that was, though, I’m not sure. And as if amazing pulled pork and waffle fries weren’t enough the whole thing is topped with melted jack cheese! The cheese provides just enough saltiness to counterbalance the sweet (but not too sweet) barbeque sauce. This is a must for any/all visits to Kuma’s. Round two brought us Kuma’s famous customizable mac-n-cheese; we added bacon and caramelized onions. There have been some mighty high praises of Kuma’s mac-n-cheese sung on this blog, and make no mistake it is really good, but it still places second to Handle Bar’s smoked gouda variation. Bacon and caramelized onions were definitely good adds.
Finally, the reason we came. Round three arrived and we were not disappointed by the monstrous mounded before us. In my corner: Neurosis with cheddar, Swiss, caramelized onions, sautéed mushrooms, and horseradish mayo. Cooked a perfect medium, this burger is hearty and mouthwatering with the sweet onions providing counterpoint to the salty cheese, the mushrooms adding to the meatiness of the 10oz patty, and enough horseradish in the mayo to alert the sinuses. I chose well. Nicole chose the eponymous Kuma Burger. Topped with cheddar, bacon, and a fried egg it was our skipped breakfast and dinner all in one. It should also be noted that while we all know about the magic of bacon, Kuma’s bacon is in a league of its own, incredibly rich pork flavor and perfectly smoked; it should be a side dish. On the opposite side of the table Sara ordered the Kaijo topped with more of this amazing bacon, bleu cheese, and “frizzled” onions. Long, thin strands of fried onion, the frizzled onions were mounded on top her burger like some delicious bird’s nest. And finally Maureen tried the Plague Bringer. Kuma’s spicy burger, the Plague Bringer is Kuma’s 10oz burger topped with roasted garlic mayo, tortilla strips, Chicago CO-OP hot sauce, fresh garlic, pepper jack, and sliced jalapenos. According to her it was more than a little spicy, but judging by the looks of it the tongue pain was probably well worth it.
