Vegetarian Voyage

Ratings Guide:
Half handshake, half chest-bump hug – 5 stars
Chest bump – 4 stars
Fist bump – 3 stars
High five – 2 stars
Handshake – 1 star
Manly ass slap – ½ star
Fone and fone – 0 stars



When I first moved back to Chicago about four years ago I was living with my parents while my wife was still in St. Louis. To keep myself entertained for those five or so months I decided to become a vegetarian. Not forever, of course, but for a month, just to see if I could do it. Now, I’m not a planner. I tend to do things on a whim without thinking too far ahead. Like my freshman year of college when I decided to dress up as Vanilla Ice and shaved lines in my eyebrows, not thinking about the fact that it would take 2-3 months for them to grow back. While it was entertaining for the night, I spend the next 3 months looking like a total douche. So for that month of December that I decided to go vegetarian, I didn’t exactly look into what vegetarians eat. Didn’t look into any good recipes. Didn’t look into any meat substitutes. Didn’t even bother to find any vegetarian restaurants. My meals ended up primarily consisting of eight things: cereal (which isn’t that different from what I normally make myself for breakfast), vegetarian baked beans (not sure how I decided to start eating these for an entire month, but I had them at least five nights a week. As my entire meal.), vegetable soup, mac and cheese (again, something I eat all the time anyway), peanut butter and jelly (I felt like I was a junior in college again), pizza, and sometimes salad. And lots of candy. And that was it. There was nothing else. I kid you not. I never ate anything but those eight things (That’s a lie. I did eat potato perogies on Christmas Eve, but that was truly the only other thing I ate.). It was so stupid. The whole experiment didn’t serve any purpose other than to see if I could go without meat for an entire month. Truthfully I figured it wouldn’t be that hard because I ate so much cereal and mac ‘n’ cheese and pizza. I thought, what the hell? I eat so much of that stuff already that I’m practically a vegetarian anyway. By day three I realized I ate a ton of other stuff (like hot dogs, and more hot dogs, and also steak, and then another hot dog). And afterwards I questioned how anyone could be a vegetarian or what the hell they ate everyday (other than the items listed about). I think I now know the answer to that question after recently dining at two different vegetarian restaurants.



Restaurant: Handlebar
Location: 2311 W. North Ave.

My buddy Geoff and I went on a man-date a couple of weeks ago and chose Handlebar. It was really nice. I picked him up around 9. He was wearing the cutest shirt and jeans that fit him perfectly. It was a little breathtaking watching him walk across the street, out of my dreams, and into my car. Geoff had been to Handlebar a bunch of times, but I had never been. Part of the reason is because they don’t serve meat, and the other reason is that they don’t serve meat. But Geoff really liked the place so that was good enough for me.

Handlebar has a fantastic patio in the back. It’s really big and open. Of course we didn’t sit there because Geoff didn’t tell me about it until we were done eating, so we ended up at a table in the front. We started off with the nachos. I really can’t say enough about them. They were covered with beans and pico de gallo and sour cream and avocado and most importantly seitan chorizo. Seiten is fake meat. It’s made from wheat gluten. I have no idea what that means, but it was good enough to fool me. The “chorizo” was terrific and spicy. And the nachos were huge. I’m gonna let you in on a little secret – I’m a pretty big eater. And Geoff can put it away when he needs to. And at the end of the night at least half the nachos were still there. And it had nothing to do with the taste, or the fact that it was covered in wheat gluten, or the amount of other food we ordered. There was just so much on the plate it was almost impossible to finish off with just two people. I was really surprised at how good they were. Especially the chorizo. You really couldn’t tell the difference.

It was because of this that Geoff convinced me to order the BBQ seitan sandwich. He said if I was blindfolded that I wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between it and a normal BBQ beef sandwich. Well, when it came, and I took a bite, he asked, “Can you tell the difference?” And I said, “No. It tastes just like real meat. A really bad piece of meat, but meat none-the-less. But no, I can’t tell the difference.” The best way to describe it is that it reminds me of a hamburger patty at McDonald’s. A little bit tough. Tastes a little bit pre-cooked (OK, a lot a bit pre-cooked). And it seems like it’s probably meat. As far as you can tell. Of course I love McDonald’s and their “real” meat burgers (I can’t tell you how many cheeseburgers I get when they have their .59 cent special), so the seitan BBQ sandwich really didn’t bother me. It was actually pretty tasty. If I was a vegetarian for more than a month, then I’m sure this is something I’d be happy to get to satisfy my meat craving.

Lucky for me Geoff and I decided to split our meals, so he ordered the Green Meanie, and I got to enjoy half of it. The Green Meanie is a big ol’ slice of avocado, goat cheese, sprouts, spinach, tomato, and honey mustard. It was really good. I only have two complaints (which I actually think is pretty reasonable since I’m talking about vegetarian food here). One: why sprouts? Why do places insist on sprouts? It’s like they use it as filler to make the sandwich look bigger than it really is. Nobody likes sprouts. I don’t think I’ve ever met someone who likes them. And I’ve never heard of anyone actually ordering them. In fact, when sprouts come with a meal/sandwich, most people I know ask to have the sprouts left off. Yet places (like Handlebar) insist on including them. Boo, I say. Boo. Two: honey mustard. I’m not going to knock Handlebar for this one, because most people like honey mustard. I’m just not one of those people. And the honey mustard at Handlebar was the kind of mustard that was really potent, so it was pretty distracting to someone like me who doesn’t love mustard. If I ever got this sandwich again I’d get it without the two things I mentioned and it would be perfect. With them, it was still pretty good.

For my side item I went with the collard greens. Not sure why. They just sounded really good that night. However, they weren’t really good. In fact, they were terrible. I took one bite, and was barely able to swallow it. I took a second bite just to confirm that they really were as bad as I thought. Which they were. Too bad. I was in the mood for them.

Luckily I also ordered a side of the smoked Gouda mac ‘n cheese. Oh. My. God. (by the way, what’s more annoying in a text/email, OMG or emoticons? I say emoticons, but it’s pretty close.) They were fantastic. Geoff said they were just OK that night, and that they were a little watery than normal. But I didn’t care (even though they were a little watery, but he promises they are usually much, much creamier). I couldn’t put my fork down. I was tempted to get another order. That’s how much I loved them. In fact, it was the best mac n’ cheese I’d ever had. Of course that all changed a couple days later when I had the mac ‘n cheese at Hot Chocolate. But when you’re talking about the two best mac n’ cheeses of all-time, there really isn’t a loser. Except for my heart. And my cholesterol. You can actually order a meal of three sides, and I think I might try this next time, and just get three orders of the mac n’ cheese. I can’t recommend it enough.

I’m actually kind of surprised to say that I really, really liked Handlebar. And not only that, I’ll be back. Over and over again.

Chest bump


Restaurant: Green Zebra
Location: 1460 W. Chicago

My next venture into the vegetarian world was at Green Zebra. We were celebrating some friends’ birthdays (Nick and Allison) so a group of six of us decided on Green Zebra. None of us had ever been, and I’ve heard only good things about it, so it seemed like a safe bet.

Let me just say this: it’s a bad sign when your waiter comes over to present the menu, and the first thing he says is, “We recommend you order three plates [off the menu] per person.” It’s moments like these that make me hate vegetarians. Three plates per person? And that’s assuming they are talking about a normal person. What about someone like me? Does that mean I should order 12 plates? I was incredibly nervous. It also didn’t help that when our waiter talked he smacked his lips at the end of ever sentence. It’s bad enough to hear that you need to order a ton of plates to satisfy your appetite. It’s worse when the person telling you that smacks his lips as he does it. Of course the topper is that each plate is $7 - $15. So if you order the cheapest stuff, and stick to only three plates, you’re still spending $21. And chances are if you’re sticking to the cheapest plates, they are also the least filling plates, so you’ll end up needing at least four plates. Green Zebra and I were getting off on the wrong foot.

After having a sip of my over-priced wine and taking a deep breath, I was able to focus and look over the menu. I started things off with the Sweet Onion Soup. While being the cheapest thing on the menu ($7), it was actually a much bigger portion than I had expected. And not only that, it was fantastic. In fact, it was better than fantastic. It was creamy, but not too creamy. Oniony, buy not too oniony. And it had some scallions mixed in to add the perfect amount of flavor. It was the kind of soup that as you get to the bottom you want to ditch your spoon and pick up your bowl and drink out of it like a complete Hoosier. And if I wasn’t with my wife, I probably would have. Instead I had to use the spoon as best I could, and was then forced to stare at the last bite my spoon couldn’t get to sitting at the bottom of the bowl, taunting me. Luckily the waiter came by and took it away; smacking his lips a couple of times before doing so. I wonder if “your honor, he was smacking his lips” is a suitable defense for homicide. That reminds me of a time in college when I was eating with my roommate. I lived with two girls, and one of them was heading out to get a sub from Subway and asked if I wanted anything. So I ordered the old Cold Cut Combo with mayo, pickles, lettuce, onions, and more pickles. When she brought it back I was really excited to eat it, but then she started eating next to me. And she was an open mouth eater. And a loud eater. And a loud open mouth eater. She chewed loud. Smacked loud. Even swallowed loud. It’s like every bite had this disgusting juicy sound. I’m not kidding, I almost puked. I actually had to stop eating. She asked me what was wrong, and I had to tell her that I was saving half my sandwich for later. Of course she didn’t believe me since I usually ate two footlongs as a meal. So for me to stop after six inches it was pretty obvious something was a miss. And for me to pass up a joke using “six inches”, well, something really is a miss.

Where was I? Oh, after the soup I ordered the Butternut Squash Raviolo. Went it came out it was one piece of ravioli. Which makes sense, because I guess raviolo is the singular version of ravioli. But you never see the word “raviolo” because every place serves ravioli (as is several pieces of raviolo). I didn’t even know ravioli had a singular version of the word. I thought it was kind of like “deer”, which you use whether describing one deer, or a group of deer, of six deer. Either way the raviolo was pretty good. It had egg yolk on the inside, so cutting into it felt kind of like eating an egg over-easy. The yolk just filled the plate, so you’d take the piece of raviolo and use the yolk almost as a dip, the same way you use toast to soak up the yolk that pours out of your over-easy breakfast. Of course one piece of ravioli (or raviolo, if you will) was enough to hold me over for about 38 seconds.

Next I got the Truffle Risotto. Part of the reason I ordered it was because it sounded decent (have you ever had anything with “truffle” in the title and it not be delicious?) and because risotto is kind of like a cross between pasta and rice, so I figured at the very least it would be filling. I was right on one account. It was delicious. But it wasn’t very filling (unless you’re a girl).

I wanted to order a couple more plates, but I had already spent $35 for these three plates ($7 + $13 + $15) so I just moved on to dessert.

The peanut butter and chocolate mousse was amazing. The key was that it was served with concord grape jelly. So it tasted like a peanut butter and jelly and chocolate sandwich, which I love. And at a mere $8 it seemed like a deal. It was a really good way to end the meal.

Afterwards I ran into Geoff, RJ, Summer, and Brian at Rx, and Geoff asked me what I thought of Green Zebra. I said, “It’s really, really good, but I’m fu@&ing starving.” And that’s really the best way to describe it. It’s really good food that’s not really filling but is really expensive (and the fact that the wine menu doesn’t have any cheap glasses to choose from doesn’t help). I think you could make a killing if you had a hot dog stand outside Green Zebra. I would have bought about 8 hot dogs after this meal. And I can’t be the only one.

Would I go back? No. Am I glad I went? Yes.

So if you’re a hippie (vegetarian/vegan), you’ll love it. As long as you’re a rich hippie.

Chest bump.



Got a question? Send it to josh@borntofork.com.