Victory's Banner

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



Restaurant: Victory’s Banner
Location: 2100 W. Roscoe


At the end of “Ghostbusters”, Gozer asks the guys to “choose the form of the destructor”. Peter realizes that whatever, or whoever, they think of will be the thing that comes and destroys them. So they all clear their heads of any thoughts. So nothing can come kill them. But then, out of nowhere, is the most terrifying beast imaginable – The Stay Puft Marshmallow Man. Ray explains that he “tried to think of the most harmless thing…something that could never, ever possibly destroy us.”

Well, if I were in Ray’s position I would have been thinking about the French toast at Victory’s Banner. It’s, by far, the best French toast I’ve ever had. Just giant, soft, gooey, sweet pieces of syrup covered goodness. Even Gozer couldn’t convince them to hurt a soul.

By the way, how bad am I dating myself with a “Ghostbusters” reference? And as another random tangent, who was more of a comedic genius – Bill Murray or Chevy Chase? Everyone quickly says Bill Murray, but I think a big reason for that is because of Bill Murray’s longetivity (which does count for something). He was funny back in the late 70’s/early 80’s, and is still funny today (thanks in large part to his resurrection courtesy of Wes Anderson). And since we’re such a “what have you done for me lately” society, we quickly dismiss the question as ridiculous. But let’s take a closer look, shall we.


HIGHEST POINT

Chevy Chase:
1985. I realize it was over 20 years ago, but that’s the year that “Fletch”, “European Vacation”, and “Spies Like Us” came out. Look at that list again. Most comedic actors don’t have three movies that good in their entire career, and Chevy did it in one year. It’s an amazing accomplishment. At that time most people thought he was just hitting stride, nowhere near hitting his peak. But looking back that’s exactly what 1985 was. Sure, he had some great movies in the years that followed, but nothing ever came close to 1985. And really, he didn’t have that many great movies after ’85.

Bill Murray:
You’d think 2004, since that’s the year he won a Golden Globe and was nominated for an Oscar. Which is amazing, because if you were a betting man, even a compulsive one like my buddy Larry, in the 80’s you never would have put money on “Bill Murray will be nominated for an Oscar some day”. But we’re talking about being a comedic genius, not a good actor. And “Lost In Translation” wasn’t funny. Sure, it had funny moments, but nobody would confuse it with a comedy. So we can’t count 2004. I’d say 1998/1999. “Rushmore” came out and kind of put Bill Murray back on the map. And the weird thing is he never really fell off the map (the way Chevy did), but “Rushmore” really made people realize that Bill could do more than classic slapstick comedy, and could do more intelligent things. And not just because it was funny, but because he was a good enough actor to make it funny yet believable. He even got a Golden Globe nomination for the role. It was after this performance that he got the chance to do something similar in “Royal Tenenbaums”, which then led to “Lost in Translation”, which then led to the Oscar. So I would consider “Rushmore” his highest point.



LOWEST POINT

Chevy Chase:
“The Chevy Chase Show”. I don’t think I have to say much else about it. If you never saw it, be thankful. If you don’t believe me, go youtube it. Just miserable. And he never really recovered from it. The only decent (and I use that word lightly) movie he made after that was “Vegas Vacation”.

Bill Murray:
I’m going to have to say “Garfield” for many reasons. 1) Because I hate Garfield. 2) He had to know that Breckin Meyer and Jennifer Love Hewitt were both involved, and yet he still agreed to do it. 3) This came after “Rushmore”, “Royal”, and “Lost”. How do you do those tree movies, have all the momentum in the world, and still feel the need to collect a paycheck by doing the voice for this movie? And then agree to do a second movie? It’s not like he has young kids he’s doing it for. It really angers me, and brings him down a notch. And here’s a random fact: the guy who did Peter Venkman’s voice on the animated Ghostbusters series was the same guy who used to do Garfield’s voice in the animated series back in the day. Then Murray, who first played Venkman, ends up doing Garfield’s voice for the animated movies. Why do I know this? Because it’s useless information.


5 BEST MOVIES

Keep in mind they had to play a key role and really add something to the movie, not just make a quick cameo/appearance that didn’t add much other than an extra credit to their IMDB page.


Chevy Chase:
(in no particular order) Caddyshack, Fletch, Spies Like Us, Vacation, Three Amigos

That’s a monster top 5. They are each all-time classics. The perfect balance of funny and total stupidity. How do I know they’re great movies? Because any time I’m watching them and my wife walks in the room, she turns around and walks out. That’s how you know something is truly, truly funny on many different levels: my wife hates it. And he just played each role perfectly. Whether it was slapstick, or loveable idiot, or sarcastic straight man (think Vince Vaughn before Vince Vaughn was Vince Vaughn), he killed it. Out of the park every time.


Bill Murray:
(in no particular order) Caddyshack, Stripes (the first half), What About Bob, Rushmore, Meatballs

Bill’s list is a little tougher to narrow down. I think he has more quality comedies to choose from, which is an advantage, but I don’t think his top 5 is as good at Chevy’s top 5. And that counts for something. Plus, Stripes was more of a half-movie. After they leave training the movie is a mess and almost unwatchable. You look at Bill’s top 5 and you think, “Those are five great movies. Wow.” But you look at Chevy’s and you think, “those are five of my all-time favorite movies. Holy crap. That man was a genius.”

5 WORST MOVIES

Chevy Chase:
Caddyshack II, Fletch Lives, Memoirs of an Invisible Man, Man of the House, Nothing But Trouble

I don’t want to spend a lot of time talking about any of these, because they were so bad, but just wanted to say that I recognize he didn’t really play a major role in “Caddyshack II”, but the fact that he even agreed to appear on screen is almost unforgivable.


Bill Murray:
Garfield, Quick Change, Stripes (the second half), Larger Than Life, Garfield: A Tale of Two Kitties

I think it was harder to find 5 terrible movies that Bill did, while narrowing Chevy’s 5 worst was easy to do, because there were so many to choose from. Really, if you take away the two Garfield movies, the other three are bad, but not unbearable. You could sit through them if you had to, which is a plus.


FINAL THOUGHTS

I think if you’re looking at their careers as a whole, you’d probably, at gunpoint, have to say Murray, simply because he’s so good for so long. He never really had a big lull in his career. Never made bad movie after bad movie. He has more quality movies than Chevy, and less awful movies as well. But, I think that Chevy has made funnier movies. You look again at his top five and it’s amazing. I don’t think Murray’s five come close. And creating several all-time classics instead of a ton of good movies has to count for something.

And that’s why it’s a little more complicated than “Bill Murray, hands down.” My vote would be for Chevy. But I think the real winners are all of us.


Anyway, back to Victory’s Banner and the French toast.

There was nothing fancy about the French toast. They weren’t a chocolate tower of French toast and they weren’t topped with some exotic fruit and they didn’t have some special ingredient baked in and they didn’t use some kind of unique bread. It was just good old-fashioned French toast. And the best I’ve ever had.

The slices were nice and big. But they weren’t dense. That’s usually a huge problem with French toast. Either the bread is too slim and flimsy and you feel like you’re eating a wet napkin. Or it’s really thick and dense, and you feel like you’re eating a moist (sorry Debbie) brick. Both are miserable.

But the bread at Victory’s was perfect. Nice and thick, but incredibly light and fluffy. It was able to soak up the syrup without falling apart. But still soak it up enough that you got to taste the syrup and bread with each bite.

On top of it all they had a great butter to go along with it. It was some special peach-flavored butter. It just added to the sweetness of the whole dish. I’ll admit the butter is “unique”, but it was unique in a way that added to the meal, not overpower it, and it didn’t feel like a gimmick. Most of the time when places have some unique French toast, it’s some gimmick and overpowers the best parts of a classic French toast. This didn’t. It was the perfect compliment. I wanted to smear the entire plate all over my body. But my wife talked me out of it. Maybe next time.

I should also mention that the place is vegetarian (I don’t have to say it, but you know), so all the meats are made of veggie-friendly products. My wife had some eggs mixed with some fake meat, and it was really good. Not nearly as good as the French toast, but not a bad option. And the potatoes were also really good.

All that being said I would say everything at Victory’s Banner is pretty good/above average. But the French toast is worth going out of your way for. I think they get the elite HJ rating on their own.

But because of everything else, the place only gets a chest bump.


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

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.

A New York Minute

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



I was just in New York for work. Flew in on a Tuesday night and back home Wednesday evening, so only got to enjoy a couple of places. However, the trip capped off the most amazing famous-people-sighting week I’ve ever had. Or probably ever will have. In fact, my entire week felt like the “Celebs, They’re Just Like US” section of US Weekly.



Restaurant: Latitude
Location: 783 8th Ave, New York, NY

We were staying at the W in Times Square, so we were in tourist-trap central. Right across the street was the Olive Garden. Now, I joke a lot with friends about things that make me embarrassed to be an American. Songs like “My Humps” and “Fergilicious” and “This Is Why I’m Hot” reaching #1 on the charts (for several weeks at that). Movies like “Norbit” and “Evan Almighty” and “Fantastic Four” opening up #1 at the box office. Guys who eat hot dogs every day for a week and write a blog about it. Our President. Americans who travel to different countries and expect everyone to speak English. Everyone on a Disney Cruise. Stuff like that. Well, the Olive Garden in Times Square just got added to that list. The line was out the door and the wait had to be almost two hours long. I can’t even talk about it. I love all-you-can-eat breadsticks as much as the next guy, but you’re in New York. There are a million places to choose from, and somehow places like the Olive Garden and TGI Friday’s are packed. Who knows, maybe they’re all foreigners who want to experience something “American”. Either way I hate everything about it.

We asked the doorman where to go, stating that we wanted to go someplace where we wouldn’t see any tourists (which is probably impossible since we were in the heart of Times Square), and he suggested Latitude, which was only a block from the hotel. When I was in London years ago I asked the same question to the concierge there (a place for dinner that locals go), and he said “Hard Rock Café”. I almost punched him. The doorman at the W was much wiser and at least reco’d a place that we didn’t recognize as a tourist trap. When we got there the place was pretty much dead. About 6 people at the bar, and another couple of booths filled with people. As far as we could tell it was definitely not a tourist hot spot (but what the F do we know?). We started off with some hot wings, BBQ wings, and mini burgers. Well, when I say, “started off”, we ordered them as apps before we ordered dinner, but they were delivered at the exact same time as our entrées, so we didn’t really start with them. The table just ended up being like a bar-food version of tapas. Not a bad idea actually. For my meal I had ordered the Spedino. Which is a fried mozzarella sandwich. Which is actually just a fancy way of saying “large square mozzarella stick”. It was delicious. It was battered in white wine or something, and served with some sort of white wine sauce. It added this sweet, elegant taste to fried cheese. A nice combo, I thought. I really enjoyed it. It was a little small, but it was only $7, so you get what you pay for. The mini burgers were decent. Nothing special, but nice and filling, so that was a plus. The hot wings were hot. Real hot. Make-your-forehead-sweat hot. Mess-with-your-intestines-the-next-day hot. I liked them. They were a little dry, but it was late and I was drinking, so I didn’t mind. The BBQ wings were just OK. Nothing special about them, nothing horrible about them.

And that was it. Everyone liked their meal (I think Joe got the pulled pork and Chris got some other sandwich, and they both seemed to enjoy it). And I liked the laid-back atmosphere. You didn’t feel like you were a block away from Times Square. Fist bump.



Restaurant: Bread Tribeca
Location: 301 Church St., New York, NY

So here comes the US Weekly edition of Born To Fork. On Monday I ate at Cuatro with my wife and some friends. I wanted to go to Room 21, but we were afraid it was too expensive, and I love Cuatro, so we opted for that. But when we were done eating we walked down to Room 21 just to check it out. The place was empty on the inside, but the outdoor patio (which is amazing) was packed. I walk in the front door for a look around, and there are only two people in the place and they’re sitting at the bar having a drink. But they aren’t just “two people”. It’s Chris Tucker and Brett Ratner. And I don’t know what to do. Part of me wants to go up and say “hi”, but the other part of me doesn’t want to be that douche bag who walks up to celebs and makes a big scene. I’ve done this twice in my career, and both time I walked away feeling like an a-hole (it was to Ryne Sandberg and Mark Grace, who both were cordial, but also both had a hint of “please stop talking to me and let me enjoy myself” about them. And they’re not even big-time celebs, so I can only imagine what a big shot like Chris Tucker might do. But in Grace’s defense, he was trying to get laid at a bar in Milwaukee at the time and I was throwing some serious salt in his game.). I called my buddy Geoff, who in the past told me that his dream would be to have Chris Tucker narrate his life. I decided that I was going to get Geoff on the phone, then walk up to Chris and ask him to say “hi” to Geoff. But Geoff told me he might pass out if he talked to Chris Tucker, so I decided against it. And you know what? As much as I didn’t want to pull a d-bag 101 move, I was kicking myself the rest of the night for not saying something to them. I’ve got to imagine they’d be pretty cool guys. Oh, the other thing is that Chris Tucker doesn’t look nearly as fat in person as he does in the “Rush Hour 3” trailers.

Fast-forward to Wednesday. Following our meeting we headed across the street to Bread Tribeca. After we sat down and got a Peroni in our hands, I randomly was looking around the place. It was pretty empty, but then again, it was two in the afternoon. It’s one of those places that just feels like New York. Huge windows that look onto a street that’s constantly filled with people. I can’t really explain it, but you know how certain cities or places have a feeling? Well, to me, New York is a city that has a feeling. And this place was one of those places in New York where the whole experience just felt very New York. Follow? I didn’t think so. Anyway, I’m looking around a mostly empty restaurant and in the corner I see Anne Hathaway. That’s right, the star of “The Devil Wears Prada”, which I’ve seen about ten times in the past week thanks to HBO. After the whole Chris and Brett sighting I started to feel like Perez Hilton. I was tempted to walk up to her and say something like, “Your boobs looked amazing in Brokeback Mountain and Havoc” or “I LOVED you in First Daughter” just to see her reaction. Instead I just turned back around and enjoyed my lunch.

Speaking of, the food at Bread Tribeca was really good. I had the Mozzarella panini, tomato soup, and some mashed potatoes. The panini was pretty good. I liked the bread (which isn’t surprising since that’s the name of the place), and the sandwich was pretty simple – just mozzarella, tomato, and basil leaves. The basil leaves were pretty over-powering. If you like basil, you’d love this sandwich. But if you’re just so-so on basil (as I am), it is a bit distracting and takes away from the overall enjoyment of the sandwich. That being said, I enjoyed it anyway. The potatoes were really good as well. Perfectly creamy, and flavored only with some pepper. It really was a nice change of pace from most mashed potatoes, which try to do way too much in the way of seasoning or garlic or butter or chives or whatever. These felt like a better version of the kind that Mom used to make (actually, a slightly better version of my brother-in-law Kerry’s potatoes, which are extra creamy and extra delicious). But the big winner was the tomato soup, and I don’t even really like tomatoes. In fact, I think the only tomato soup that I have ever liked was a tomato and cheese soup we used to make back at Bruegger’s Bagels when I was working there in college. When this soup came out I was terrified. It was just as thick as the mashed potatoes. In fact, it wasn’t really soup; it was more like mashed tomatoes. But you know what (and you already know what, since I told you about five sentences ago)? It was delicious. I mean like I-couldn’t-put-my-spoon-down-and-could-have-eaten-three-more-bowls-of-it delicious. I don’t know what it was that made it so good. I’m not even 100% sure what else was in it, but whatever it was I liked it. Bread Tribeca gets a real solid chest bump. I want to give it a little more, but it is just a tad pricey. But then again it is gourmet and it is in New York and it does have Anne Hathaway’s blessing.

But the story isn’t over yet. After lunch we had a “limo” take us to the airport. It smelled like feet mixed with B.O. But like the feet and B.O. of an Eastern European athlete. And it just stuck with you. I smelled it the whole plane ride home. It was like that Seinfeld episode. Not good. After my flight got cancelled and I was moved from the four o’clock flight to the six o’clock flight, which was then delayed until seven, I decided to give up my seat altogether and get a free ticket out of it. The only catch was that with my new flight I had to fly through D.C. before heading back to Chicago. During my hour layover in the nation’s capitol, I needed to eat some dinner, so I went to Wendy’s, which was the only thing really available. As I’m waiting in line I turn around and see ANOTHER celebrity behind me in line (I use the term “celebrity” lightly here). It was the Pride of Providence. The runner up in the first season of The Contender. The one-and-only, Peter Manfredo Jr. He was actually a pretty nice guy. I talked to him for about 30 seconds before the guy behind him mauled him with questions and conversation. When I told my wife I saw him, she was kind of excited because she loved The Contender. She said, “Was he the guy with the jacked-up nose? I liked him.” Jacked-up is an understatement. I’ve never seen a nose so destroyed in my entire life. I’m amazed he can even still breath. The whole experience was a nice way to cap off my week.

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

Coalfire

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


Restaurant: Coalfire
Location: 1321 W Grand


I was channel surfing the other day and came across the college cheerleading championships or something on ESPN2. Now, anytime I see 18-year-old girls wearing short skirts, I’m gonna stop and watch. I got so excited watching them jump around and yell that I decided to write this review in cheer (yes, it’s its own language).


I love Coalfire,
Yes I do!
I love Coalfire,
How ‘bout you?


Watch out, it’s here!
Bring your own beer!
Let’s eat, and cheer!
And then drink aforementioned beer!


You might order a pizza,
You might start off with a snack,
But when it comes to the calzones
They’re as good as riding bareback
They’re as good as riding bareback


Hey, hey the pizza’s thin,
Makes you feel less masculine.
Hey, Hey I’d do it again,
The sauce was as good as sin!


They put it IN they pull it OUT (sounds like my college years)
The coal-burning oven leaves no doubt
Enjoy the grub that it creates
Cause the margherita pizza dominates!


U.G.L.Y.
You ain’t got no alibi
You ugly
What, what, you ugly
You’re ugly, you’re oogley
Your mama says you’re yoogley
U.G.L.Y.
You ain’t got no alibi
You ugly
What, what, you ugly


Neapolitan pizza is the current sensation,
Popping up everywhere across the nation!
Chicago-style get ready for a fight,
It’s about time we all take a bite!
So who is the champion,
And the style that gets it done,
For Born to Fork,
Chicago-style is still #1!!!!
WHOOOOOOO!!!!!!!


Hey x the ambiance x it’s cozy in here
Seating x is limited x but I don’t really care
Just come x to the counter x to order your food
Then sit down x and wait x they’ll bring it to you
C-O-A-L-F-I-R-E
COALFIRE!!!


When I say BRING you say YOUR
BRING YOUR
BRING YOUR
When I say OWN you say BOOZE
OWN BOOZE
OWN BOOZE
When I say B.Y. you say O.B.
B.Y.O.B.
B.Y.O.B.


Order Order Order it up
Order that caprese salad up
Eat Eat Eat it up
Eat that caprese salad up
It’s It’s It’s OK
The caprese salad is just OK
GO SALAD!


We're back again better than before
Watch out Crust we'll raise that score
We're number one we thought you knew
Look out Spacca Napoli we're coming for you


I don't know what you've been told
I don't know what you've been told
Coalfire is as good as gold
Coalfire is as good as gold
If you heard what I just said
If you heard what I just said
Get on your knees and give me head (what?)
Get on your knees and give me head
Sound off
One, Two
Sound off
Three, Four
When you’re done you’ll want more
When you’re done you’ll want more


OK, I think that’s enough. In case you didn’t follow any of that, here’s a quick recap. I loved Coalfire. Liked it better than Crust (though the caprese salad at Crust is better, even though they call it something different) but not as much as Spacca Napoli or Pizza D.O.C. The calzone was my favorite. Really doughy and not too much ricotta. The pizza was maybe a little too thin (I love Neapolitan pizza, but still say Chicago-style is as good as it gets), but a great sauce and perfectly cooked. BYOB. It was also really reasonably priced. I’ll go back. Probably more than once.

Chest bump.


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

Chew Chew Cafe

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


Restaurant: Chew Chew Cafe
Location: 1 Riverside Drive


This past Sunday was Easter Sunday, so my wife and I had planned on having brunch with my folks. My mom told me she made reservations at Chew Chew Café. She’s mentioned it a bunch of times in the past and claimed that the food was really good. All I knew was that it was a train place and located right next to some train tracks. My dad is a HUGE train geek (he does model trains and actually has a train that runs though the backyard) so I wasn’t surprised that my parents liked it. And when I say HUGE geek, I mean in a good way. Model trains don’t sound sexy, but that’s because they aren’t. But, they do look pretty tight when done right. My parents’ backyard is a good example. Back in the day they used to call my dad LL Cool T (Ladies Love Cool Trains). My mom never had a chance.

When I asked my mom the name of it so I could get directions online she said, “Chew Chew Café, but it’s spelled C-H-E-W.” Oh boy. I assumed it was spelled the traditional train way (as in Choo Choo). Now, as a writer I love a good pun, a sweet play on words, and all the geeky stuff. But Chew Chew? Seemed a little much (but I was also secretly amused). I could only imagine what this place was like. “Witty” name. In the ‘burbs. My parents liked it (remember, these are the same people who eat at Lalo’s every Friday night). Here’s the best way I can explain it. When I went back to St. Louis to visit after I had moved we were trying to find a place to have breakfast, and someone said First Watch. So we headed there. The wait was really, really long, like it was the best (or only) breakfast place in all of St. Louis. And when I was done I felt like I had just eaten at a cleaner Denny’s (except not as good) but paid twice as much. I realized that it was one of those places that people talk themselves into being better than they really are because if they can’t convince themselves (and other people) that it’s good, then it means they have nothing. The same way people in suburbs like Naperville try to convince you that they have all this great stuff going on out there because they don’t want to believe that they are missing out by not living in the city. So that’s what I figured Chew Chew Café would be. A place that suburbanites try to convince you is great so that you feel like you’re missing out on something. Guess what? They’re right.

Believe me, I’m as shocked as you are. The day before I went I mentioned my plans to Geoff, and he said, “Chew Chew? That place is good. For real.” Even this didn’t convince me. But you know what did convince me? The chocolate chip pancakes.

Allow me a quick aside. I was just killing time and channel surfing and I stopped to watch “Thank God You’re Here.” The show is an improv type of show featuring different comedians each week competing against each other. Here’s the part I don’t understand – Dave Foley (who has aged horribly, and that’s an understatement. New Radio was about 10 years ago, but judging by Foley it might have been closer to 30.) is the “judge”? He gets to decide what’s good and what’s bad and picks a winner at the end of the show. What qualifies him to be the one and only judge? And don’t say “Kids in the Hall” because he’s a long way from those days. I don’t get it? Was he like the all-time greatest “Thank God You’re Here” improv guy? I have no idea why this bothers me, but it does. It also doesn’t help that David Alan Grier is the host. He’s a long way from In Living Color.

OK, sorry about that. Back to the pancakes. See, a lot of places try to do the special pancake thing. Whether it’s some kind of fruit pancake (like seasonal fruit, or apple and cinnamon) or something sweet (like chocolate pancakes) or something “kooky” and “over-the-top” (like pumpkin pancakes with chocolate syrup and bananas and gummy bears). The problem is not many places do it well. Most places try too hard and end up with a mess that has no taste, or too much taste, or it’s thrown together with no thought. Rarely do you find a place that does it really well (like Bongo Room). So as I was checking the menu and deciding what to get, I really wanted to put Chew Chew to the test. Eggs are easy. Omelets are easy. Even pancakes are pretty easy. But, chocolate chip pancakes? Not easy. There are a lot of places where they can go wrong. Too much chocolate. Not enough chocolate. Too much sauce. Or syrup doesn’t go well with it. It’s just really risky. But Chew Chew did ‘em right.

Each pancake had a perfect balance of chocolate chips baked in. Then the stack was topped with the perfect portion as well. Not too much. Just enough that if I wanted to add a little extra chocolate to a bite I could. And on top of that there were sliced bananas on top. And on top of THAT there was caramel sauce drizzled over the whole thing. But again, not too much. It was the perfect balance in every bite. And you didn’t have to add any syrup. The caramel sauce and chocolate chips were just enough to keep it moist and sweet without needing sauce or anything. It was amazing. I loved them. Now, I don’t think they were as good as what the Bongo Room produces, but these were definitely worth the trip.

Luckily my wife never finishes what she orders, so I got a couple of bites of the eggs benedict. Another great order. The key was the English muffin it was served on. Just a big ol’ piece of bread, toasted and buttered perfectly. Then top it with all the good stuff. Delicious. Not too much taste, not too little taste. Special, but not too special. Good stuff. Chew Chew was two for two.

And according to Geoff, and my parents, the dinner here is really good as well. For now, I’ll have to take their word for it. But I might just have to check it out sometime.

Chew Chew Café gets a surprising chest bump.


Got a question? Send it to born2fork@yahoo.com.

New York, New York

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



OK, so about a month ago I turned 30. Awesome. Turning 30 really wasn’t that big a deal. The one thing it does do is open your eyes a little bit. You notice what you’ve accomplished in your life (like bowling a 250 once), and what you haven’t accomplished (two chicks at the same time). You also start to notice little things about yourself that have probably changed over time and you never noticed it before but suddenly you’re 30 so you start to really think about it. For example, back in college, a typical day’s worth of food looked like this:

Breakfast
- Two bowls of cereal
- A ham and cheese omelette
- Four pieces of toast (with butter)
- A glass of milk
- A glass of chocolate milk
- A glass of orange juice
- An apple or banana (or both)
- And a huge waffle (with butter and syrup)
(Just for the record, this was my breakfast every day at Eva J’s. No joke. It never changed. Not in four years. Except that sometimes I might get a little of the day’s special (like biscuits and gravy or something).)

Lunch
- Two footlong Subway subs
(This varied every day. Depends what I was in the mood for – Burger King, Subway, the cafeteria, etc… - or where friends wanted to eat. The only requirement was that the place had to take student charge, so my parents would end up paying for it.)

Dinner
- Two steak soft tacos from Taco Bell
- A Whopper
- Fries
- Onion Rings
- A small pizza from Pizza Hut
(Again, this varied every night depending on things, but you get the point.)

Late Night
- Two pints of Ben and Jerry’s
(During my sophomore year Hitt St. Market was running a special – 2 pints for $5 – and since they took student charge, I got two pints every day. And each night I would eat an entire pint of Phish Food and an entire pint of Chunky Monkey. And I usually wouldn’t start the first pint until about 10 at night. Now, keep in mind each pint contains about 1,200 calories and 80 grams of fat. So that’s 2,400 calories and 160 grams of fat. Every night.)

The point is I ate a lot. More than a lot. I ate more than several countries. But the thing is I never gained any weight. I had the metabolism of a 20 year old, and could work out 2 hours a day, because what else was I going to do? Go to class? I never weighed over 185, and when I weighed that I was pretty ripped (not to brag, but I had a six pack). Now? I don’t eat nearly as much (but let’s be honest, I still eat more than most, and way more than I should) and the weight just keeps creeping on. And it’s much tougher to get rid of. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, being 30 is awesome.

So, for my 30th birthday, my wife surprised me with a trip to New York. And not only that, she had some friends come meet me, including my sister. Here’s the low-down on some of the places we ate at while visiting the Big Apple.


Restaurant: John’s
Location: 408 E 64th St.

When my wife was making plans for the NY trip, she didn’t have much in mind. She wasn’t sure what I would be up for, and since there were a bunch of people coming in at different times, it was also probably tough to coordinate a bunch of activities. So, she kept it pretty simple. Lunch plans on Thursday and dinner reservations on Friday.

By the time we got in Thursday (we left on the 6 a.m. flight, got in about 8 or something, then decided to take the train, which was a mistake because it was under construction, so we didn’t end up making it to our hotel until almost 11. Maybe the most painful experience of my life. When I walked into the hotel and my sister was there waiting, I was so pissed off that I didn’t even say “hi” to her. Needless to say I don’t have a lot of patience. Luckily the DoubleTree offers free cookies, so that calmed me down.) it was about time to grab lunch. We threw our stuff in the room, relaxed for a minute, and waited for Matt and Allison to get in. Then the five of us headed out to John’s.

Well, we start walking there, and my wife knows the address, and my sister has been waiting on us long enough that she spent the morning walking around and at one point headed that direction. So as we’re walking there and getting further from touristland, my wife looks around and says, “I don’t remember this at all.” Apparently she’s been to John’s before. “I thought it was in the theater district.” About a block later we finally reached John’s. We’re relieved, but my wife is pretty confused. “This can’t be the place.” I checked the menu posted on the outside of the building, and the front of it showed three addresses for John’s, one of them being in Times Square. “That’s the one I meant to go to.” Oh well, we’re here now.

When we got inside the place was empty. I guess that’s why she wanted to go to the other location. Then again, it was almost two o’clock. So we had our choice of seats and slid into a booth. We started off with some Pete’s-A-Rolls. They’re balls of dough stuffed with stuff. We went with the fresh spinach and mozzarella. Here’s something you may not know about me. I like spinach pizza, especially when it’s stuffed pizza. It’s definitely not my first choice (the pepperoni and pepperoncini combo, also known as the Ricky Kim), but it’s up there. So, I thought the spinach Pete’s-A-Rolls were the right choice. And they were. These things were delicious. Just little balls of goodness. You know how Munchkins are great little poppable versions of donuts? Well, these things were great little poppable versions of pizza.

As we were ordering our pizza, a couple came in to eat. I didn’t really notice them when they walked in, but I noticed that they decided to sit in the booth directly behind us. So, my back was to them, but Amy, Allison, and Matt were facing them perfectly. The only reason I bring this up is because they could have sat ANYWHERE in this place. I mean it was more wide open then Briana Banks. But they sat as close to us as possible. And as you’ll find out in a minute, I’m glad they did.

Matt and I ordered a pizza with pepperoni and prosciutto. I wasn’t sure what to expect with the pizza here. I’m used to buying New York pizza by the slice, where you get a giant thin slice that you have to fold in half just to get it in your mouth. Well, you know what John’s reminded me of? Shakespeare’s in Columbia, MO. Not that it tasted the exact same or anything like that, but the pizza looked similar, similar style crust and slice size and all that stuff. John’s pizza is cooked in a coal-burning oven, and maybe that’s the same way Shakespeare’s does it. I don’t know. Anyway, the pizza was delicious. I loved it. I could see this being one of my “places” if I lived in New York. But the pizza wasn’t the highlight of the place. The couple sitting behind us was.

When they walked in I didn’t really notice them. It was a man and a woman, and that’s about as much as I saw. But as their lunch went on, it became obvious that this wasn’t a lunch but a rendezvous. They were having an affair. Allison was somehow hearing the best of it, mostly because she was the one who was listening and watching their every move. Turns out the guy was telling the woman that he wanted her to leave her husband. And if she didn’t, he wasn’t sure he could go on like this. He said something about her getting both of their life insurances or something. And throughout the whole conversation, the more heated he got, the more he swore. And this is when I took better notice of what Allison already knew – the guy looked like he was in his 70s and she looked like she was in her early 40s. I just pictured my grandpa throwing around the f-bomb to his 30-years-younger mistress. I wanted to turn around and tell this gentleman that he was my hero, but I thought that might be inappropriate. Mostly because my wife was there, and I wasn’t in the mood for a swift kick to the groin.

John’s gets a solid chest bump. Really enjoyed this place.


Restaurant: Telephone Bar and Grill
Location: 149 Second Ave.

On Thursday night, after a day of walking around, we were trying to decide where to grab dinner. No one really wanted to make a decision, and I’m the kind of guy who just likes to wander and pick a place at random. So, we jumped in a cab, told him we wanted to head to East Village (as if I had any idea what or where that was), and that we were looking for some food (nothing special, just something casual). So he drops us off and we start walking around. Well, everyone is about to pass out because they’re so hungry, so we only walked around for about 30 seconds, and there was Telephone Bar and Grill. Looked like a decent, local crowd inside, so we headed in. I loved the atmosphere of this place. Some people were eating. Some were just standing around drinking like they were making happy hour last all night long (the Dave Hart special), and the backroom was hosting an open-mic comedy night. I never got the chance to head back and check it out, but I’m sure it was hilarious. Our waiter had a British accent. I was convinced he wasn’t really British, but a struggling actor who was working on his accent for some off-off-off Broadway play. One that I would never see. Unless it was about food. For dinner I ordered the stew. Not sure how I felt about it. It smelled of something awful. You might even say pungent. But that didn’t stop me from eating the whole bowl. I think I was just really hungry and could have eaten anything at this point. The fries were another story. They were amazing. They were the kind of fries where you would put one in your mouth, and as you were chewing it, you would already have another one in your hand and shove it in your mouth right as you were done swallowing. Kind of like how chain smokers will light their next cigarette off the one they have in their mouth, because they can’t even stand to be without a cigarette long enough to light it with a match or lighter. These were like that. Without the cancer. But with the cholesterol. And Telephone had a great selection of beer. I also enjoyed that. But, overall, I can only give the food a High Five.


Restaurant: Pinnacle Deli
Location: Corner of 3rd ave and 45th st

On Friday morning, while everyone else was recovering from Thursday night (I’ll spare you the details, but they involved a lot of drinking, some 21 year old who shared my birthday trying to make out with me, and us ending up at some bar where the bartender agreed to stay open as late as we wanted), I decided to head out for a walk and was on a mission to find some little corner bagel place and get breakfast. About 6 blocks from where I was staying in Midtown I found Pinnacle. The bagel was really, really good, and the guys behind the counter couldn’t have been nicer. But who gives an F? The great thing about Pinnacle was that they spread the cream cheese onto the bagel with a spoon. That alone earns them a perfect rating. The only thing that could have topped it is if they used a shovel. Half handshake, half chest-bump hug.


Restaurant: Café Borgia
Location: 196 Spring St.


During the day on Friday we headed down to SoHo to do some shopping. We stopped for lunch at Café Borgia. I enjoyed it. Just a small little intimate setting with some great home-style food. I had the chicken soup, which tasted just like the one mom used to make. I also got a hot chocolate, which was fantastic. It tasted like they melted a Hershey’s bar into some whole milk. And I thank them for that.

Chest bump.


Restaurant: Mesa Grill
Location: 102 5th Ave.


My wife wanted to have at least one dinner as a big group at a nice restaurant, so she made reservations at Mesa Grill. Mesa Grill is Bobby Flay’s restaurant, which leads me to one question: is that his real name?

See, my theory is that Bobby Flay’s life story was kind of like an after school special. Back when Bobby Jackson was in high school, his parents started asking him where he wanted to go to college. But Bobby told them he didn’t want to go to college. He wanted to become a chef and go to The French Culinary Institute. This lead to a disapproving look from his dad, followed by his dad screaming, “No son of mine is going to become a…a…a chef! What are you, some kind of fruit?” So Bobby ran away. Shamed by his family he changed his last name from Jackson to Flay, and eventually graduated from the Institute with an Outstanding Graduate Award. After graduation he headed to New York City and worked in several restaurants, honing his skills, until one day he was ready to open his own place. And when that day came, he called his parents (of course his dad still wouldn’t talk to him) and convinced his mom (who would drag dad along, even though he wouldn’t know why) to come to New York and see him. Bobby would convince them to meet him at a new restaurant called Mesa Grill. When they arrived and sat down at the best table in the house, out comes Bobby. His dad is furious and wants to leave, but mom convinces him to sit. So, the three of them have dinner together. Eventually his dad is a little less pissed off, and as he finishes his meal, he says, “Wow, that was terrific. This place is great.” And Bobby simply says, “I’ll let the owner and chef know you think so.” And his mom asks, “You KNOW the owner?” And Bobby grins, and says, “Yeah. It’s me.” Both parents stare in amazement, and then his dad puts down his napkin, stands up and hugs his son.

And then I probably cry.

Seriously, with a name like Bobby Flay, it has to be made up, right?

Speaking of changing names, I have one more quick sidetrack. A couple of years ago I happened to watch a special on HBO called “Katie Morgan: A Porn Star Revealed”. It featured Katie Morgan talking about her life, how she got into porn, why she does it, why she likes it, how she got her porn name, etc… Of course she is sitting on a stool naked the entire show. Well, at one point she talks about growing up with conservative parents: "I might as well have been raised in the 40s," Katie sighs, adding that her mother and father still don't know what she does for a living. Excuse me? Your parents don’t know what you do for a living? And you still talk to them? And you don’t want them to find out that you’re a porn star? Um, guess what, there’s a good chance they just found out. Why would you go on HBO if you didn’t want them to find out? I mean, there’s already a chance that some pervert from your home town is going to see you in a porn, recognize you, do the math, and maybe leak the news, which will eventually make it’s way through the gossip-mill of small town USA. But now that you had your own special on HBO? I mean everyone has HBO these days. Now I’m sure half the town has seen it, and your dirty little secret isn’t really a secret anymore. And why do I bring this up? I have no idea.

By the way, the food at Mesa Grill is really good. The blue corn pancake, which includes barbecued duck, is terrific. The corn tamale is also really tasty, but it has garlic, so it should be tasty. Seriously, is there anything made with garlic that isn’t tasty? I can’t think of anything. I don’t even remember what I ordered for dinner. I think some kind of steak or something, and I’m sure it was great, but the New Mexican Spice Rubbed Pork Tenderloin stole my attention. I’ve said it before – pork falls into three categories. Terrible (very few fall into this category, and the restaurant has to almost try to make it terrible), good/great (probably 90% of pork dishes fall into this category. You can’t screw up pork (unless you try), and in the end they all end up tasting pretty similar, which is why it’s always a safe order), and unbelievably perfect HJ-worthy pork. Guess what, the pork tenderloin fell into this category. It was…indescribable. Just one of the best dishes I’ve even eaten. I might have finished in my pants. It was $29, and I would have paid $1,000. That’s how good I thought it was.

For dessert by buddy Tony had called ahead and had them prepare a special chocolate cake just for me (well, it was actually for everyone at the table, but in my honor). So, Mesa Grill had their pastry chef prepare something special and from scratch. The cake was awesome. And for $90, it should have been. But you know what they did? They brought the cake out and presented it, then took it back to the kitchen to cut it, then brought out 9 equal pieces (one for everyone at the table). But where was the rest of the cake? No way those 9 pieces added up to that whole cake. I think they charged us $90 (which Tony paid for) for half a cake, then used the other half to feed other tables probably later in the night. Kinda shady.

But, that being said, I still think the place was terrific. I’m gonna give them a chest bump with a manly ass slap. They would have gotten a perfect score, but something about Bobby Flay bothers me, so I had to knock them a half point.

After dinner we headed out for the night again, drank a lot (I drank less than most, but I also ate more than most, so it was a wash), went to a great dive bar, and eventually ended up at the same late-night bar from the night before, except this time Matt went on a McDonald’s run and brought about 20 cheeseburgers and fries into the bar. Good times. And the bartender was getting high, so he appreciated the food.

I just want to wrap this up by thanking my wife for surprising me and organizing the trip. And I want to thank Yvette, Matt, Allison, Katy, Nick, Tony, Jamie, and Dave for coming out to help me celebrate.

I give the whole trip a half handshake, half chest-bump hug.



Got a question? Send it to born2fork@yahoo.com.

Feed

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


Restaurant: Feed
Location: 2803 W. Chicago


There are some experiences that are better “live”. For example, everybody claims that music is always better live. You can feel the music move through you. The crowd adds that extra element of energy. The songs are played with a little more passion. But I disagree. Music isn’t always better live. Go check out a Rhymefest (or almost any hip-hop act) concert and you’ll see what I mean. Or see a show in a venue with suspect acoustics. Or a musician that is so over-produced that a live show exposes their lack of talent. Then you’ve got musicians playing their songs so they sound EXACTLY like they do on the album, leaving you wondering if they are just lip-synching the entire show. And I hate that. Or musicians that play their songs so they sound NOTHING like they do on the album, so you don’t even recognize the songs. I hate that, too. I love live music. I’m one of those people who think, when done right, music really is better live. The problem is that it isn’t done right as often as people want you to think it is.

On the other hand, food is something that is better “live” 9 out of 10 times. Actually, more like 95 out of 100 times.

Take Feed, for example. I’ve been there a couple of times, and every time I say it’s one of my favorite places and that I should eat there more. I love the simple menu, the simple atmosphere, the clucking chicken egg-dispensing machine, the chickens roasting in the back, the old school cooler filled with cans of soda, even the out-of-the-way location. Well, the other night I headed over there for some take-out. And it was no surprise that take-out from Feed wasn’t nearly as good as eating at Feed. And it’s like that for almost every restaurant when you do take-out/delivery vs. eating at the restaurant. It’s just that subtle difference of food coming out hot and prepared just like the chef intended. Whether it’s burgers, pizza, hot dogs, sushi, Chinese food, tacos, whatever, it just looses a little something in the time it takes to get it from the restaurant to your house.

Anyway, back to Feed. Your choices are simple. They have a couple of sandwiches to choose from (pulled pork, BBQ chicken, burger), roasted chicken (1/4. ½, whole, dark or white), and some side dishes (mac and cheese, fries, collard greens, mashed potatoes, etc…).

On the take-out night I got the BBQ chicken sandwich, pulled pork sandwich, ¼ white-meat chicken, fries, and some mac and cheese (just to be clear, it was for me and my wife).

The BBQ chicken sandwich was the best of the bunch. It’s normally really good, and somehow suffered the least in the drive from Feed to my house. If I’m not eating the roasted chicken, I usually go with the chicken sandwich. The pulled pork didn’t have the same results. Granted, if you’re looking for pulled pork Feed isn’t the place to go (I’d head to Calvin’s BBQ on Armitage, which isn’t too far away). Feed is known for their chicken, as it’s about 90% of their menu. But if you want pulled pork, get it only if you’re eating there and not taking it with you. The roasted chicken at Feed is some of the best in the city. It’s usually juicy, perfectly cooked, and just tears apart with ease. You don’t even need any sort of sauce or anything to enjoy it. The juices and roasting process are enough. However, my car must have a dehumidifier, because the chicken was a little dry by the time I got home.

That being said, the sides suffered the most. The mac and cheese is so delicious at feed it hurts. It’s normally just a bowl of cheese and noodles with some spices. In fact, the mac and cheese is a little sweet. I’m not sure what they put in there, but I could eat a gallon of it. At home? Not as cheesey. A little cold. And it felt like a slightly smaller portion size. It was definitely missing something. The fries were even worse off. They have hand cut fries here, and I usually just devour them. But when I got them home I ended up leaving half of them uneaten. And that’s saying something.

So, if you want some good chicken and some down-home cooking, head to Feed. Just make sure you eat there (and try the fried okra. It’s fantastic.).

A tasty chest bump (but a disappointing fist bump if you get it to go).



Got a question? Send it to born2fork@yahoo.com.

Spacca Napoli

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


Restaurant: Spacca Napoli
Location: 1769 W. Sunnyside


First, let me apologize for yet another list. I know they get old (actually, they’re already old, kind of like HJs with no lube or trucker hats) but this one is very important. After “Stomp The Yard” enjoyed another week of box-office success I thought it was important to rank the best “battle” movies in the recent years. See, I have a long history of these awful types of movies. For the last several years me and my good friend and co-worker Debbie have taken a long Friday lunch in order to avoid responsibility and head to the theater. And when we do we are always drawn to the “guilty pleasure” movies, which for us involve some sort of dancing or competition, a horrible script, and even worse acting. I love these movies, and I won’t apologize for it. Here are my favorites, in order.

1. You Got Served. Still the one to beat. It had the perfect combination of unbelievable dancing, unrealistic story line, and Keanu Reeves-esque performances, except worse, which is nearly impossible. Plus it had the memorable quote that every other movie has tried to duplicate but couldn’t – “You just mad ‘cause you got served.” Aw snap. I saw this thing twice in the theatres AND bought the DVD. It really is an awful movie. Awful good, that is.

2. Stomp The Yard. That’s right, I’m putting this one in the number two spot. It’s basically a combination of “You Got Served”, “Save the Last Dance”, “Step Up”, and “Teen Wolf” (although every movie on this list is a combination of those movies). Most Memorable Quote: “’What are they doing?’ ‘ They’re stompin’ the yard. Where you from?’” This movie probably had the best script (which isn’t saying much) and the best all-around acting (which still isn’t saying much). I also love that the opening credits say, “Introducing Chris Brown” even though he’s been around for a couple of years (just not in any movies) and he’s in this movie for about 5 minutes (though it’s an incredibly emotional 5 minutes). When you “introduce” someone, shouldn’t it be the first time you are ever hearing about this person? Is there one person in the world who saw this movie and didn’t know who Chris Brown was? Plus the movie featured Meagan Good. Why is this significant? Just look at her resume: “You Got Served”, “Roll Bounce”, “Biker Boyz”, and “Stomp the Yard”. At least she’s not being typecast. How she wasn’t in “Save the Last Dance” I’ll never know.

3. Step Up. It combined my two favorite guilty pleasures – dance movie and romantic comedy. My only knock is that it could have used more dancing. And I’m glad they didn’t call it “Save the Last Dance 3”, which they very easily could have done. Since it is almost the exact same movie with a gender flip and school flip.

4. Stick It. It featured girls in leotards. Enough said.

5. Roll Bounce. 70’s music. 70’s hair. Chicago setting. Roller skates. AND Bow Wow crying while destroying a car with a bat and screaming, “She’s never coming back”. Very dramatic. So dramatic that I laughed out loud in the theater. What’s not to love?

What does this have to do with Spacca Napoli? Absolutely nothing.

So, we got to Spacca on a Saturday night. We waited for an hour. Lucky for us it was on one of those An Inconvenient Truth nights and we could stand outside and have a beer without freezing our aces off. And we weren’t alone. Tons of other people were waiting, which is always a good sign. And more people kept coming. And more people kept putting their name on the list. And clearly a lot of those people had been there before (which was made obvious when Jon Goldsmith, the owner, would greet them by name). You know what happens when you know the owner? You get preferential treatment. Like getting a seat before others who have been waiting longer. Well, we were one of those people waiting longer. And the look from my wife made Jon fear for his life. He quickly found us the next available table, brought over some free drinks, and comped us some free appetizers. When he brought over the apps he said, “I’m sorry for the wait. You never should have had to wait for an hour.” What he meant was, “Lady, please don’t castrate me.”

But after that the rest of the experience was great. The atmosphere is fantastic. A very bright room filled with the buzz of conversation. A great patio that we can’t wait to check out when the weather is nice. A huge front sidewalk where you can stand around and have drinks while waiting for a table (weather permitting). And really, really friendly service.

Spacca Napoli specializes in traditional, wood oven cooked pizzas. Just like the ones from Naples, the birthplace of the pizza. The oven was even built by 3rd and 4th generation artisans from Naples (whatever that means). Stepping inside you really do feel like you could be in Italy. If Italy was filled with a bunch of Americans speaking English in the heart of Ravenswood.

I could tell you all about the appetizers, but when pizza is the specialty, why waste your time? We went with the Margherita (tomatoes, fior di latte mozzarella, basil, olive oil) and the Bianca con Bufala (pizza Bianca (as in no red sauce) with mozzarella di bufala (as in from the buffalo’s teet), basil, olive oil). Now, we had recently been to Italy, and even made a stop in Naples and had some pizza. Spacca Napoli doesn’t quite measure up to the real thing, but really, what does? The pizza I had in Naples was one of the best of my life, so it was a lot to live up to. But I definitely wasn’t disappointed. Both pizzas were great, with enough cheese to make your mouth water, but not so much that the pizza was all cheese and nothing else. It was the prefect balance of ingredients. And surprisingly I think I would have to say I liked the “white” pizza better than the traditional “red” pizza. Of course I made myself sick on both, so there really weren’t any losers. Except for my stomach.

I can’t wait to get back and have more. It’s a little bit of a trek for me, but well worth the trip. I could see us heading back there a lot in the summer, when the weather is nicer and you don’t mind leaving your house.

Chest bump.

Got a question? Send it to born2fork@yahoo.com.

Diversey Rock 'n' Bowl

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


Restaurant: Diversey Rock ‘n’ Bowl
Location: 2211 W. Diversey


I have a healthy obsession with a lot of things in this world. Hot dogs. Fantasy football. Sports. Eating. Procrastinating. Avoiding work. Milkshakes. Cheese fries. Backyard games. Thunderstorms. The Bulls. The Bears. The Cubs. Bowling. Mario Kart. Shoes. Pizza. Movies. Music. Napping. Chocolate. Hot showers. Golden showers (just seeing if you’re still reading). Working out. Sitting on the couch. Watching TV. Staring at my wife’s rack. And ass. Gambling. Matt’s cookies. Pickles. Dining out. Talking trash. Bad movies that involve dancing or girls in tights or both (Step Up, You Got Served, Roll Bounce, Stomp the Yard, Stick It, etc…). Pop culture. And being awesome.

It just so happens that a number of things on this list can be found at one place - Diversey Rock ‘n’ Bowl.

BOWLING
This one is kind of obvious. It’s a bowling alley. You bowl here. I love bowling and Rock ‘n’ Bowl has some of the best lanes in the city. My only complaint is that they can be inconsistent. Sometimes they are a little too waxed and the ball slides like it’s on ice, and other times it’s not waxed enough and the ball really catches. But you can get a feel for it quickly and adjust. Well, if you’re a great bowler like myself you can adjust. If you throw like Ryan Dumpster or Ricky Kim then you might be screwed. And Rock ‘n’ Bowl is smoke free. Half handshake, half chest-bump hug.

GAMBLING
Maybe the best, and most underused, part of bowling is the gambling that can, and should, be involved. You can bet on things like the first throw of every frame (set an over under for a bowler and bet on it), spare pickups (set odds on the chances of a bowler picking up a spare and bet on it), final score, number of strikes, the beer frame bet, reverse spin spare pickups, opposite hand throws, number of closed frames, strip bowling, number of bucks shot in “Big Buck Hunter”, amount of cheese fries eaten. Really the possibilities are endless. Half handshake, half chest-bump hug.

CHEESE FRIES
I had this discussion the other night with my buddy Neuman, who also happens to be on my bowling team, and I said that cheese fries might be my favorite food. He said pot stickers (no, he’s not gay) with cheese fries as a close second. What’s not to like about cheese fries? The answer is actually “a lot”. See, first you have to have the perfect fries. They have to be thick enough to really soak up and hold the cheese and really stand up to the cheese taste. They can’t be too thin, because then it’s all cheese and no fry. And it can’t be too thick, because then it’s all potato and no cheese. It really is a delicate balance. Then you still have to have the perfect cheese. Can’t be some shreds of cheddar melted on top of the fries. And it can’t be some nasty Cheez Whiz type of goo. It has to be that perfect liquid cheese that either comes out of a pump or is scooped with a ladle. And if you’re lucky enough to find the cheese that has some jalapeño flavor baked right in? Eureka. My favorite cheese fries in the world are actually found in a bowling alley in St. Louis – Tropicana Bowl. Ricky and I would always bet cheese fries on our first game. Let’s just say there’s a reason I put on some pounds in the Lou (Hint: I killed Ricky at bowling. And golf. And any sport where I could get in his kitchen and cook some food at will.). When I got the cheese fries at Rock ‘n’ Bowl I was a little worried. The fries are the cross cut variety, which I like, and they were “spicy” (which means lightly seasoned with some seasoning salt) which I also like as long as the seasoning isn’t overwhelming, which these weren’t. The scary part was that the cheese came in a little cup instead of covering the fries. See, I like my cheese COVERING my fries, to the point that you need a fork to eat them. The cheese and grease of the fries get a chance to make friends and party for a while, creating the perfect cheese fry. When you have to dip the fry you lose something. The second problem was the cup wasn’t that big. It was only enough for the fries if you half dipped them, and if you ate a couple of the fries with ketchup. It was like being at a Bulls’ game and getting the nachos that never come with enough cheese so you either have to order extra cheese for $1.25 or use the cheese sparingly. This does not make me happy. The third watch-out was that the cheese looked a little thick, and not gooey enough. But, in the end, they weren’t too bad. They ended up being pretty tasty, and the fries themselves were delicious. I think if you simply ask them to drip the cheese over the fries, and give the lady at the counter a little wink (if you’re hot like me) for some extra cheese, then you’ll be pretty happy with the order. Fist bump. (Oh, and if you’re looking for some good cheese fries in the Loop check out Max’s Take-Out. It’s my favorite place for cheese fries and a hot dog.)

THE CUBS
You wouldn’t think the Cubs have anything to do with bowling. Until you see my Chicago Cubs bowling ball. Then you’d change your mind. It’s the only thing Cubs related that throws strikes consistently. The Cubs get a manly ass slap. The Cubs ball gets a half handshake, half chest-bump hug.

HOT DOGS
I think they have hot dogs at Rock ‘n’ Bowl. I’m not sure. I’ve never looked. Which probably shocks you. As it does me.

SPORTS
Bowling is a sport. Kind of.

MILKSHAKES
This you may not believe, but it’s true – Rock ‘n’ Bowl actually has really good milkshakes. Made from scratch with ice cream, milk and some chocolate sauce. Just like Mom used to. Chest bump.

SHOES
You get to wear bowling shoes. I have my own pair. They are sweet. Like the milkshakes.

PIZZA
I think the pizza at Rock ‘n’ Bowl is surprisingly good. It helps that you don’t expect a bowling alley to have good pizza, and then when it over delivers you feel like you’re eating the best pizza in the world. It’s really cheesy and incredibly greasy. Just like a pizza should be. I recommend the ground beef and tomatoes. But, sometimes the ground beef is spicy (which I prefer) and other times it’s bland (and bland is never good. Blanch from the Golden Girls is a different story). You’ve been warned. Fist bump with a manly ass slap.

TALKING TRASH
In high school they used to call me “The Mouth”. I think it’s because of the amount of trash I talked. At least I hope that’s why they called me that. Now they call me “The G.I. Track”. Half handshake, half chest-bump hug.

BEING AWESOME
I’m awesome at bowling. There’s not much else I can say. But I’ll try anyway. I hit the pocket. I hit it hard. I throw a sweet spin ball. I knock down lots of pins. I’m clutch. I’ve carried one of my bowling teams to second place (I have a trophy if you want to see it) and have my current team in first place. I get in people’s heads. I intimidate people. I have ice in my veins. Simply put, I’m awesome. Half handshake, half chest-bump hug


ROCK ‘N’ BOWL
Chest bump. Would be higher except that they do the cosmic bowling with the black light after 10 p.m. I hate it. Too bad. They could have been perfect.

Got a question? Send it to born2fork@yahoo.com.

Mundial Cocina Mestiza

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


Restaurant: Mundial Cocina Mestiza
Location: 1640 W. 18th St.

Good things seem to come in threes. Three’s Company. The three-toed sloth. My fat rolls. The Three Stooges. The Three Wise Men (and not the Jim, Jack and Johnnie kind). The three pointer. Three Dog Night. Tricycle. Three strikes and you’re out. Babe Ruth. The Holy Trinity. Bulls’ championships. Michael Jordan’s draft position. Ménage à trios (the kind with three chicks, or two chicks and a guy. Not the kind with two dudes, or three dudes (not that there’s anything wrong with that)). The Dahm sisters. Three sheets to the win. Three Amigos. Amazing Grace Smith. The chefs at Mundial Cocina Mestiza.

Katie and Eusevio Garcia and Jorge Hernandez are the three-headed brain-trust behind Mundial Cocina Mestiza (please don’t be confused. This isn’t actually one person with three heads; it is, in fact, three different people. “Three-headed brain-trust” is just a figure of speech.). They all have different backgrounds from different restaurants around the city, so the food is a mix of Latin and Mediterranean and goodness.

The night we headed there we had our choice of tables, so we took the table by the window. Mundial is located in Pilsen, which I love. There are a ton of great restaurants down that way that I don’t explore them nearly enough. There was actually a surprising amount of people out walking around, so the window seat doubled as some good people watching. The restaurant itself is very simple and down-to-earth. Nothing fancy here. Just some tables, chairs, and a couple things hanging on the walls. There are two rooms, a front room and back room. The back room has a little more going on, but I like sitting in front where you can see people coming and going.

Because of the diverse menu we wanted to try as much as possible, so we ordered lots of appetizers. They included:
- Queso flameado con chorizo (basically a cheese dip) which was really, really, really cheesy. Of course I loved it. And stabbed anyone with a fork who tried to steal a taste.
- Nopales empapelados (it had cactus in it). I’ve never eaten cactus. It tastes like cactus, which is surprisingly good. For sure worth trying.
- Sopa del dia (soup of the day). I can’t remember what it was, but it was creamy and spicy and good.
- And I think somebody got a salad, but who cares about salad?
So, the apps were really good. And really filling. The portion size was great, especially for the money. We didn’t really even need to get entrees after the apps, but of course we did anyway.

Allison got a pasta, which was a ravioli in a red cream sauce. It was really good, which I didn’t expect. You feel like the place should really be a Mexican/Latin food place, but the Mediterranean mix adds a great flavor to all the dishes, especially the pasta. Matt got the jumbo shrimp. It was cooked in garlic and butter. I’ll let you guess what I thought of it. Now, when it was time for me and my wife to order, I couldn’t decide. She insisted I get the house-cut grilled ribeye. She said she read it was their specialty. I asked the waiter what I should order, and he said the same thing. Know that I HATE ordering something similar to anyone else at the table, especially when trying someplace new. I like everyone getting something different so you get a good feel for how the place is as a whole. I asked my wife to order first, but she didn’t know what she wanted, so I had to order. And guess what? I went with the ribeye. My wife told me to get it. Something she read told her to tell me to get it. Our waiter told me to get it. So I got it. What choice did I have? Then my wife was ready to order, and you know what she got? The carne asada. The other steak on the menu. Basically the same thing I got. I wasn’t happy about it. She didn’t care. Something about me being a child. Or a baby. I forget. And normally I really wouldn’t care, but hers was MUCH better than mine. I really didn’t think the ribeye was anything special, but the carne asada was fantastic. If you go there, and you want meat, get the carne. And it’s not that mine was bad, it’s just that hers was better, and frankly I should have gotten the fish I had my eye on. Next time.

And while we all contemplated heading to the bathroom to purge ourselves like Meredith Baxter in Kate’s Secret the dessert menu came. Everyone decided they were too full to try anything. So I ordered the sampler platter. I was expecting nothing from the dessert. It was fantastic. Get it. As an appetizer.

The service was great (they let us sit there for over two hours and never made us feel rushed, yet they kept coming by to check on us and make sure we were doing OK). The prices were fantastic (nothing over $16, and most things around $12). BYO. Total bill was $50 a couple (in comparison to $150 a couple at Más a couple of weeks ago). I liked this place much better than Más but not quite as much as May Street Café. So, if you’re heading down to Pilsen, I would say check out May Street Café first, but go out of your way for a second trip down there and have a seat at Mundial Cocina Mestiza.

All things considered I have to give it a chest bump.


Got a question? Send it to born2fork@yahoo.com.

The Hot Spot

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


Restaurant: The Hot Spot
Location: 2824 W. Armitage


I’ve done a complete 360 on The Hot Spot. I started hot, got cold, and now I’m hot again. I’m like a 52-year-old lady going through menopause (minus the mom jeans, though I have the FUPA to pull them off).

Here’s the story.

HOT
My wife read about The Hot Spot in Time Out when it first opened up. It sounded great. Breakfast is our favorite meal of the day (not that I mind any meal), so we keep a lookout for places to go, and the Hot Spot sounded perfect. I’d already decided I liked it even though I’d never gone. And it would stay that way for some time. We never found our way to the place.

COLD
Fast-forward about a year and a half. We move from Ukrainian Village to Logan Square. Suddenly The Hot Spot is just a stones throw away from our new place (it wasn’t that far from our old place, but it shows just how lazy we are). So my wife’s family comes up and we head over for breakfast on a Saturday. I loved it the moment I walked in. I love the décor, the atmosphere, and the fact that we don’t have to wait even though it’s ten in the morning. If we were at Bongo Room I’d be standing outside for an hour (which I never complain about since Bongo Room has the best breakfast of all-time). Here? We sit right down. My favorite part is the breakfast bar. Great for grabbing a solo meal. I start off with a coffee and I’m pretty happy with it. There’s a lot to choose from on this menu. Luckily there was a group of us, so we got to sample a lot. They’re known for their Logan Berry pancakes, so my brother-in-law gets those. My wife ops for the lox bagel while her sister gets an omelet. I go for the Belgian waffle. Nothing special, but was in the mood for it. Not good. The waffle was just OK. The omelet was just OK. The lox bagel was just OK. The only thing that was above average was the Logan Berry pancakes. I was devastated. I brought it up with a co-worker (Anne) who had been there and she felt the same way. We decided the problem was that everything just kind of tasted like something you’d make at home. There was nothing unique about any of the dishes. This was worse than the time I saw Anchorman for the first time and nearly sent a letter to Will Ferrell asking for my money back (no joke). I had such high expectations and when the experience didn’t live up to those expectations it makes it worse than it really is. With Anchorman I declared it one of the worst movies of all-time. But then I made myself watch it again. And again. And again. And again (and again multiplied by about 100). And now it’s one of my favorite movies. After this first Hot Spot experience I wasn’t sure I would ever go back. I’m glad I changed my mind.

WARMER
My buddy Dave and I meet for breakfast every Thursday. Gives us a chance to catch up, chat, discuss football lines, and so on. One Thursday neither of us were working so rather than head downtown for breakfast we kept it close to home. The Hot Spot just happens to be directly in the middle of our places. So, we chose to meet there. This time around I got the Huevos Rancheros. What a treat. Just a slop of eggs, beans, salsa, sour cream, and chorizo served in a skillet. You just mix it all together and enjoy. I couldn’t get enough of it. Why didn’t I get this the first time? This changed everything. Maybe The Hot Spot was better than I gave it credit for.

HOT
So I’ve been back several times since, and each time I’ve been satisfied. From the burrito to the breakfast sandwich to the rancheros I haven’t had a bad meal since. The key is to not order the simple things on the menu that you can make at home. Omelets, pancakes, and even the French toast. All just average. And it’s because there isn’t anything unique about them (not that there’s anything wrong with that). I told Anne about my new love for the place and explained the change, and she said she never ordered anything but the plain pancakes or eggs, so now I know why she never truly enjoyed it.

The service is always great. The clientele is diverse. The atmosphere is bright. The prices are reasonable. And I love the food (now).

There you have it. The Hot Spot is like a goiter - it’ll grow on you.

Chest Bump.


Got a question? Send it to born2fork@yahoo.com.

Webster Wine Bar

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
Fone and fone – 0 stars
Manly ass slap – ½ star


Restaurant: Webster Wine Bar
Location: 1480 W. Webster


There are some things that get better with age. My basketball game is not one of them. At one point in my career I could shoot from the outside, hit fadeaways in defenders’ faces, effortlessly block shots, pass, and I could run the backdoor alleyoop better than almost anyone. Now, I can’t shoot, can’t play defense (and really, I never could), can’t jump, and I really can’t shoot. On Sunday I went 0-2 from beyond the arc, missed a couple of short jumpers in the lane, and looked incredibly awkward going in for a lay-up. Plus, I got my pocket picked trying to crossover a short, fat guy. But, I look great in basketball shorts. And that’s all that really matters to me these days anyway.

As far as those things that do get better with age, wine and cheese come to mind. And this past Friday I had a little of both at Webster Wine Bar. I’ve been here a couple of times, and I really like it. But, I’ve never eaten here. And honestly, I didn’t even know they had food.

Granted, the menu is pretty small, but the choices make it feel bigger than it really is. They have some salads, which we didn’t try, and some appetizers. We got a couple plates of cheese, some hummus, and some fried calamari. Shockingly, I’m not a huge fan of eating slices or blocks of cheese at a wine bar. Not sure why, since I love cheese so much. Maybe it’s a little too fancy for me. Maybe the fried calamari distracted me. Either way, I only had a couple pieces of the cheese, and they were fine. I’m told the hummus was really good (it was gone before I got a chance to give it a try, but I’m not a big fan of hummus, so I wasn’t trying that hard). I focused all of my attention on the fried calamari. It was the three “F”s - fantastic and flavorful and fried. When you hit the trifecta like that you can’t go wrong. I wish we would have ordered two plates of this.

For dinner I got the Cuban sandwich with fries. Awesome. The sandwich was juicy and not tough at all. Your teeth just sank into it. And the combo of meats (pork and a spicy ham) was terrific. And the fries – well, they were fried. That’s always good. But these were better than most.

My wife ordered a small pizza to share with another friend. The pizza wasn’t that big (supposedly 12 inches), and clearly these women couldn’t handle all 12”. Luckily, I could. I think I ate two pieces of it. It was mushroom and smoked mozzarella. And it was good. I wanted to order the pesto pizza, but thought better of it, as we were going to a movie and I would also consume some candy and soda there.

Some other orders at the table included the quesadilla, the lamb shank, and the penne pasta. By all accounts everyone enjoyed their meal. Although it’s tough to tell if Dima enjoys anything he eats, since he eats anything. I think you could serve him a paper plate drizzled with olive oil and he’d finish it quickly, think it was pretty good, and look around to see what else he could eat off of other peoples’ plates.

And we got three bottles of wine. The wine was great, and the recos of the server were right on. The only complaint I have is that although the waitress was super nice, she was also a very soft talker. It’s a miracle I didn’t walk out of the place wearing a puffy shirt.

And I didn’t even mention that we asked the place to switch our tables two times (three different tables), and they did without question or complaint each time. That’s always a good sign. Plus, I learned that our friends got engaged here. Awwwwwww.

So, Webster Wine Bar gets a chest bump. And my basketball skills get a high five.

Got a question? Send it to born2fork@yahoo.com.

Dunlays on the Square

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
Fone and fone – 0 stars
Manly ass slap – ½ star


Restaurant: Dunlays on the Square
Location: 3137 W. Logan


Don’t go to Dunlays for lunch or brunch or anytime before dinner if you haven’t eaten breakfast. I tried that genius idea, and I ended up consuming roughly 1 million calories because of my extreme hunger. What’s the problem, you ask? Well, usually there wouldn’t be one, as consuming 1 million calories per sitting is pretty much common practice for me. The reason it’s a bad idea to do it at Dunlays is that you end up consuming 1 million calories of food that is unsatisfying to the taste buds.

And it’s not as if the food is bad, it’s just that the food is OK, so when you’re done stuffing your face to try and get rid of your hunger pains, you sit back in your chair, unbutton your jeans and realize you’re full, but not really satisfied. And that’s not a good feeling. You start thinking about what you could have eaten. Where you could have gone to over indulge. And it’s kind of depressing. Luckily this lasts for about 30 seconds, and then you get a fresh beer and start thinking about where to go for dinner.

I went to Dunlays on the Square (there is a Dunlays on Clark in Lincoln Park) for brunch on a Saturday. We got there at about 12:15, sat down, and didn’t have a waitress take our drink order (or more importantly, take my drink order) until about 12:30. Then, about 3 days later when she returned with our drinks, we had to tackle her just to get an appetizer order in. We went with the Spinach Dip and the Beer Cheese. Both were really good. How good, you ask? Well, let me tell you. We quickly ran out of chips for the dips. Now, normally I’ll flag down the waitress, ask for some extra chips, and finish the dips, but since our waitress couldn’t be found by David Caruso and the rest of his CSI squad, I took matters into my own hands. And that’s to say I picked up my fork and finished off the dips that way. There is nothing more pathetic than a hung-over, starving guy forking cheese dips into his mouth.

Sometime before the sun went down we were allowed to place our food orders. The waitress apparently got bored ignoring us and came over to see what we wanted. She talked me into the French toast (I know, real difficult). The following Tuesday when it came out, I devoured the four pieces. And I mean devoured. I actually finished the entire plate before one of the other people at the table took a bite of their burger. No joke. And then when that left me feeling more unsatisfied than Teddy KGD, I finished off half of one of the burgers someone else wasn’t going to finish. Now, if your playing along at home, I finished a plate of French toast AND half a burger (and some fries) before ANYONE at the table finished their food. And then I sat there wondering what else I could eat. I also was trying to decide if we needed to issue an Amber Alert for our waitress.

Here’s the bottom line – Dunlays has fine bar food. If you live in or anywhere near Logan Square and you’re looking for someplace where you can get some bar food and watch some sports, then sure, stop by here. Are there better places? Yeah. Are there worse places? Yeah. But do any of these places offer you the chance to see a guy eat his weight in cheese dips using his fork? No.

And I know that I’m giving the waitress a lot of crap, and in her defense I think she was actually the only waitress working a full bar, but it really was bad service.

All that being said, Dunlays is your typical neighborhood bar with bar food, and there’s nothing wrong with that.

High five with a manly ass slap.


UPDATE: OK, I've now been here a ton of times and the ratings have gone way up. The burgers are good, the salads are good, teh apps are great, and the skillet cookie dessert is maybe my favorite dessert in the city (and gets an HJ). New rating - Chest bump.


Got a question? Send it to born2fork@yahoo.com.