Author Archives: Mark T

South Carolina (Day 2): Hoppin’ John and a Carolina Fried Chicken Ring

Posted on May 13, 2016 by Mark T

Welcome back to Mastication Monologues, and if you haven’t been back here lately, I am currently recounting the tale of when Janice and I went to Charleston, South Carolina. Here’s the first installment for your reading pleasure. The second day is also full of history, good eats, and one of the greatest moments of my life: proposing to Janice. So, buckle up because you’re about to read one of the greatest love stories since Jon Snow and Ygritte minus the whole being shot through with a bunch of arrows and tragic death part.

After that first day of gallivanting about the Chuck, as the locals call Charleston, we decided to get out of the hubbub of the city and visit the Middleton Plantation. However, before we even left the house, I realized that this was the day I would propose to Janice. I was planning on doing it at the Angel Oak tree after visiting the Middleton Plantation, but now I needed to figure out how to carry the ring. I could have worn my coat, but it was a warm day outside. Luckily, before we left Chicago, I had stowed a piece of gauze in one of my jean pockets. So, when Janice was showering, I went to my backpack where the ring was hidden in my backpack back at the security line in Chicago. I took out the box, which was too big for my jean pockets, and removed the beautiful ring. I wrapped it in the gauze, removed some business cards from an interior pocket in my wallet, and placed the ring in that very same pocket. Mission partially complete. I played it cool when Janice asked if I was ready to go, and we made our way to the Middleton Plantation.

At the current moment in America, race relations are continuing to grow tenser as the country becomes more diverse, and the race interactions established at the outset of our country through slavery and immigration can be seen today at this opulent 7,000 acre estate. We decided to do the entire tour package, with included a house tour and carriage ride, but we had free time before we got to meet the horsies. So, we decided to stroll about the grounds and marvel at the natural wonders that were planted and landscaped to perfection. Some of the highlights were seeing the oak trees that dotted the walkways that ranged anywhere from 200 to 900 years old. Mind you, the plantation was first established in 1730, and it actually is home to the oldest landscaped gardens in the United States. Eventually, it was time to hitch a ride with a born and bred Charlestonian and two old ladies, horses that is. Janice could hardly contain her excitement as they clip clopped their way to the pickup point and into Janice’s heart.

Cue emotional music

We climbed aboard the old carriage and took off as our driver explained the history of the plantation to us. The Middleton plantation was not mainly a working plantation but rather a country estate. That is not to say that there weren’t slaves who worked there, but they were either employed as house servants, lumberjacks to harvest the timber, rice planters in the large rice paddies off the Ashley River, or grow and collect indigo to a lesser extent. This was not your stereotypical cotton plantation. The real money was in the signature gold grain Carolina rice which was well suited for the humid Carolina weather and the planters’ profit margins. We went about the ground looking at the farm house complete with one of the male horses who wanted to bust out of his pen and the famous layabout known as Rocky the guinea hog. There was also one of the former slave houses next to the animal pens. We learned that the slave quarters were raised off the ground because it was a way to offer a bit of cool air in an otherwise brutal environment. By the time we reached the end of our journey, the horses were ready to get some hay and a nap, but we still managed to get some pics with these local celebrities.

Bffls!

All of that excitement going 2 miles per hour with a slight breeze in our hair worked up our appetites, so Janice and I decided to try the plantation restaurant which was housed in a former guest house. We were led to the main dining room that was overlooking the lily pond. We looked over the menu which was filled with plenty of Low Country classics. We quickly made our choices since we had to finish our meal before our house tour. Janice got an order of fried chicken, macaroni and cheese, collard greens, and cornbread, and I got the pecan smoked pork shoulder with Carolina gold mustard sauce. Before they brought out our food, they also asked if we wanted sweet tea, regular tea, or water. Naturally, I went for the sweet tea, and Janice got the unsweetened tea. I was so happy with my sweet tea for one main reason: it was actually sweet. McDonalds back home always would promote their sweet tea during the summertime, and I love my sweet iced tea. When I got it, it tasted like plain black tea poured over some ice. Naturally, I had to go to the South where they know how to make it correctly. Then the food came out, and we had to hold ourselves back from going full Cookie Monster on these enticing plates. My pecan smoked pork shoulder took me to hog heaven. It was melt-in-your mouth tender, and the smoky flavor mixed perfectly with the slightly sweet mustard sauce. The creamed green beans were good but not great. However, I enjoyed the Hoppin’ John on the side. This southern staple has been around as long as African slaves have been in the USA, and the name is thought to have come from the possible corruption of the Haitian creole for pigeon peas or “pois pigeons” ([pwa pi jahns]). It was a scaled back version of the richer version that southerners serve on new year’s day with green elements like kale or peppers to symbolize luck and money. The rice was perfectly cooked with a bit of salt and pepper with plenty of black beans, and I would highly recommend mixing it with the pork. Janice was equally satisfied with her fried chicken. The breading was light and gave way to the juicy all white meat chicken below the surface. I was more of a fan the plantation cornbread since it didn’t skimp on the butter and sugar compared to the more crumbly and savory cornbread at Husk. While I am averse to eating any type of pasta (yes, I’m a monster), Janice gave the macaroni and cheese two thumbs up. The collard greens were ok, but not as satisfying as the ones at Hominy Grill. By the time we were finished, we had to get up and get moving because it was almost time to start our house tour. Janice was going to pay the bill, but she couldn’t find her credit card. I paid the bill instead, and we assumed it must have been left in the car. As we walked past the house for the house tour to see one of the oldest trees on the estate, we heard someone call out, “Excuse me!”. We turned around to see two older women walking toward us, and they asked Janice if her name was “Janice Kim”. She replied in the affirmative, and it turned out that two different people had found her drivers license and her credit card in two different areas and turned both in to the visitors’ center. This was a prime example of Southern hospitality and manners. We decided to pick the cards up when we would leave, so we went to snap some pictures with the 900 year old oak tree, the same river where they blew up the British ships in the movie the Patriot, and the burned down houses. After successfully being insignificant next to this natural giant, we went to our house tour. It was originally built in 1755, but is only one of the original three houses left standing. The main house and the north flanker house were burned down by Union troops during the Civil War. Unfortunately, we were not allowed to take any pictures, but we were up to our necks in historical facts including the lodging being home to Henry Middleton’s son, Arthur, who signed the Declaration of Independence. We highly recommend checking out the rich mahogany interiors if you love architecture, history, shiny things, and/or how high class society lived. By the time we emerged from that time capsule, we had to make a decision about what we wanted to see before they closed up the Angel Oak park. We decided to pick up the all important credit card and drivers license and check out the gift shops. Janice was on the hunt for souvenirs while I was secretly having time anxiety and subsequent sweats. Visit http://kratomcrazy.com for help on how to fight anxiety in a natural way. She would ask me for opinions on magnets and rice while I was starting to run in place (in my head). Janice eventually picked up my vibe, and we got to the car quickly. We had to make the ride from northern Charleston down to John’s Island quick because we had about a hour before the park closed. Thankfully, we made it with enough time, and on the way, Janice was seriously doubting whether or not I was ever going to propose to her. She wasn’t joking, and neither was I. Perfect timing to put a ring on it. I realized I had to get the rock out of the interior pocket of my wallet, and I managed to do so as Janice rushed toward the tree with her selfie stick. The Angel Oak is estimated to be over 1500 years old and what a more romantic place to pop the question? It is one of the biggest and most sprawling trees I’ve ever seen. We took some pictures on one side of the tree, and I was analyzing the best place to do the deed. Cue the palm sweat and shifty eyes. Janice was none the wiser as we walked under the massive branches. We moved to the back side of the tree, and there wasn’t anybody around. This was it. My heart felt like it was going to pound out of my chest as I fumbled for the ring in the gauze and placed it in my hand. She turned around and everything I had planned to say went out the window. I said that it was a fitting place since she was my angel. I could see she was shaking her head due to the high levels of cheesiness in the atmosphere, but then she knew something was afoot when I dropped to my knee. I choked out my request to spend the rest of my life with her, and her response was like something out of Shakespeare: *cue crying, some laughing* “I’m holding my selfie-stick”. Just like in the movies! I was still waiting on my knee with the ring in my hand as she was more worried about her contraption. Eventually she took the ring and put it on her finger while still profusely crying with me on bended knee. Janice finally said “yes” through the tears, and I could get out of the power lunge of the century. It felt like we were floating on air beneath this relic of antiquity, and we even had an audience eventually who clapped for us. Once we finally got a picture in front of the tree with her new ring, we proceeded to let the world know of our engagement. We were then at a loss at what to do next, so I suggested that we could go for a romantic stroll along the river walk in downtown Charleston. It was the perfect setting as new fiance and fiancee as we watched the sunset, poochies running in the park, and the Citadel cadets getting some fresh air. All of the aforementioned events had made us quite hungry, so luckily I managed to find a romantic restaurant to celebrate known as High Cotton.

High Cotton oozed class. It seemed like we stepped into a time machine to an old mansion complete with an antique bar, dark wood accents, and tropical ceiling fans. It is a moderately dressy place, so don’t expect to fit in with your tank tops and jorts. We were seated at a table in the main dining room, and our waiter informed us of Charleston’s restaurant week which meant there was a special menu where we were able to choose an appetizer, entree, and dessert for the low low price of $40. Overall though, High Cotton is a restaurant that focuses on local ingredients and classic Low Country recipes. We also told him of our very recent engagement, so he treated us to a pair of complimentary champagne flutes. For our appetizer round, I got the fried green tomatoes napoleon which were the bread to a pimento cheese sandwich and surrounded by pickled shrimp. I found it to be satisfying and surprisingly light even though it was deep fried, and the pimento cheese was like a thick, spicy cheddar with the consistency of peanut butter. The shrimp were also pleasing even though they were pickled. Janice’s blue crab soup was ok. It was savory with a hint of sweetness that came along with the blue crab. We moved on to our entrees with gusto. My 8 oz. beef tenderloin with Bearnaise sauce, horseradish mashed potatoes, and Brussels sprouts were fit for a king. Everything was phenomenal. The mashed potatoes were creamy with just the right amount of sinus-clearing horseradish. The Brussels sprouts were roasted and slightly burnt and crunchy but not terribly charred. As for the meat and sauce, it was grilled to optimum juiciness which wasn’t overshadowed by the rich Bearnaise sauce. Can’t say enough good things about this dish. Janice’s shellfish and ravioli had a lot of fresh seafood from the nearby harbor including clams, shrimp, and crab along with peas and ravioli in a Parmesan sauce. I didn’t try the ravioli, but the clams were extraordinarily good. Our waiter said that the clams in the Low Country are actually better than oysters, but they don’t get the hype they deserve because they aren’t as sexy as their supposed aphrodisiac cousins. Couldn’t agree more with him. Janice thought the plate overall was ok though. Thankfully, dessert didn’t disappoint. I ordered the chocolate bread pudding complete with candied pecans, bourbon caramel, and vanilla ice cream. Need I say more? It was slightly warm which melted the ice cream which went along with the smoky caramel and crunchy pecans. It infused the semi-sweet, spongy dough of the bread pudding with a heavenly taste. Janice went with one of her favorite desserts: the vanilla bean creme brulee with a Carolina twist with tea infused citrus segments. The burnt sugar on top was a golden brown with a luscious and moderately rich cream below. By the time we reached the final spoonful, we were not only in love with each other but with High Cotton’s fare, atmosphere, and service. We made our way out and enjoyed a bit of the jazz quartet in the bar that was not performing when we first walked in. However, it was a classy end to a day filled with viewing history past, making history of our own, and plans for the future. If you’ve successfully made it to the end of this post, congrats and there are plenty more adventures to come!

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Posted in American Cuisine, Barbecue, Beverages, Comfort Food, Desserts, Non-Alcoholic, Steakhouse and tagged bbq, beef, Beverages, Charleston, chicken, chocolate, cornbread, dessert, Food, fried, green beans, grill, Low Country, mac and cheese, mustard, restaurant, Reviews, rice, sauce, South Carolina, Southern. Bookmark the permalink.

South Carolina (Day 1): Everyday I’m Husklin

Posted on May 9, 2016 by Mark T

Finally, done with final exams and my 2nd Bachelor’s Degree!!! The feeling is amazing, and what better way to celebrate than starting the story of our journey to Charleston, South Carolina? Oh yeah, and also asking my wonderful girlfriend to marry me! So, like any good tale, let’s start at the beginning.

Before we left for Charleston, we had been talking about when we would get married and types of engagement rings Janice wanted. In fact, she was the occasional Debbie Downer thinking that I might never pop the question. Little did she know I had already ordered and secretly stashed the ring at home. *Cue maniacal laughter* Once we got to the airport, the game was afoot. Through a series of strategic positioning choices while walking, like holding her left hand in my right hand because the ring was in my left pocket, and taking advantage of classic airport situations, like the madness at the security lines and Janice’s subsequent rage at everyone’s incompetence, I managed to sneak the ring in my backpack. This is where it would stay until later in our trip. Keep that in mind, readers. The flight and nighttime jaunt to our Air BnB was relaxing, and we were ready to explore the city the next day. We woke up to a slightly cool day that was punctuated with plenty of intermittent rain and wind as we were off to brunch at our first Charleston restaurant. From the outset, we knew this was going to be an eventful day since we were greeted with biblical floods throughout downtown Charleston. Not only were we learning the streets, but we were also playing our own version of Oregon Trail in our rental car which also oddly had a dial instead of an actual gear shift. Definitely was freaking me out.

Notice the flood waters right outside our window.

Fording all of those rivers really whipped up our appetite, and we finally arrived at Hominy Grill (thankfully we didn’t lose any oxen!). This tastefully and colorfully decorated historical Charleston house was a symbol of the deep roots that run through the east coast port town. Charleston was one of the richest cities in the original 13 colonies due to cash crops like rice, indigo, and timber that were harvested by the slaves that were subsequently brought over to do all the dirty work. Although the institution of slavery is based on the concept that one group of people is viewed as being less than human and more like chattel or general investments, the power of good food can still make the oppressed class make their voices heard even when other parts of their culture might be done away with by the ruling class. In fact, it is often the case around the world that some of the best food comes from the lower classes since they have to make the most of what they could afford. That would be a common theme throughout our trip as we ate signature Southern American dishes that have African roots but appeased the taste buds of the English colonists. Hominy grill brought plenty of this blended South Carolinian culture. We loved the antique interior which also kept the quaint colonial vibe when I noticed they weren’t playing any music in the restaurant. I don’t know if it’s a Chicago thing, but we more often than not have music going on in restaurants. So, it was a welcome change to just hear the sound of families and friends enjoying good food. The meal began not with a bread basket rather a paper container of boiled peanuts. While these are now a common Southern snack, they trace their roots back to Africa. They are commonly sold as a street food in Ghana even to this day, and in the South they can also be called “goober peas” which reminded me of a popular Civil War my mom would randomly sing. I had actually never had them, so we tucked into them. It was weird because the normally crunchy shells peeled off like a loose skin, and the peanuts had an almost meaty quality to them. I can see why they could be a good snack food, but I prefer my honey roasted variety. I did like that we got more than we bargained for because for some reason it seemed that there were a lot of three and even four nut shells. We kept the food festival going with two appetizers in the form of fried green tomatoes ($6) and hushpuppies ($5). I had had hushpuppies before, but never like this. The first people to have made them were Native Americans in the Southern United States, but they became popular during the Civil War. Their name supposedly came from the Confederate soldiers using them to make their dogs be quiet or “hush the puppies”. I can see why because I was making my barking stomach curl up and sleep in a food coma. I didn’t really get the jalapeno flavor or spice in them as advertised in the menu, but the subtly sweet sorghum butter was a fitting compliment to the crunchy and salty crust. The real star of the appetizer round was the fried green tomato plate. It was another Southern fried treat which consisted of unripe tomatoes coated in batter and fried with a side of ranch dressing. It might have been the Midwesterner in me which embraced the ranch dressing, but the creamy richness was a match made in heaven with the semi-juicy and sour interior and crispy exterior. As if that wasn’t enough food, we managed to move on to our entrees. Hominy Grill is a Michelin starred restaurant with not super Michelin prices serving plenty of Southern comforts, and we stayed true to what Hominy Grill is good at. Janice ended up getting the Shrimp and Grits ($19) which was different than most grits I’ve ever had. They were more like a very fine risotto compared to the creamier grits that I tried in Georgia or have seen at soul food events. The shrimp were perfect and the scallions and bacon brought a savory edge to the smooth plate. Then there was my choice: the Nasty Biscuit ($10.50). If there was one plate to sum up Southern cuisine, this tried to roll every element into one meal (minus delicious barbecue). It was a buttermilk biscuit with a piece of fried chicken in the middle bobbing in a sea of sausage gravy and cheddar cheese. Straight. Up. Nasty. (in a good way, naturally) There was no easy way to eat this symbol of Southern madness/genius, but it was as heart stoppingly good as you might imagine. I wouldn’t have to eat for another week with the amount of calories this bomb contained, but I would recommend it to anyone who wants something that’s more southern than Colonel Sanders, the Dukes of Hazard, and Nascar combined. We also got a side of collard greens since Janice likes them, and we needed to keep the southern food train rolling. I never really tried them before this moment, but I would liken them to an earthier spinach. Not something I’d go out of my way to eat, but thank God I got something green to eat in this sea of deep fried goodness. Somehow, some way we managed to make room for their famous homemade buttermilk pie. Good lawd, I have never had a pie like this, but it was the lightest pie I’ve ever eaten. First, it was chilled which made it seemed more lithe than the cumbersome fried food we had before. Then the filling was like consuming a sweet treat that was like a suave vanilla custard that caressed our overworked palates. Finally, the crust. It was minimally intrusive compared to your typical lard based pie crust which made all the difference in this belt buster of a meal. We came super hungry and left super satisfied. Can’t praise the Hominy Grill restaurant and staff enough.

Thankfully, we walked like crazy afterward along Charleston’s harbor. Since the weather was craptacular, we thought we could wait out the rain in the Charleston aquarium, but unfortunately we missed the last tour for the biggest draw: the sea turtle hospital.

We did come out on top with puns though.

We cut our losses, and got tickets for the next day and instead went to Fort Sumter which just so happened to be next door. Well, actually it was the national park museum commemorating the flashpoint of the beginning of the Civil War, and it was chock full of historical goodness that we appreciated. The actual fort consisted of us getting on a ferry boat and going out to an island in the harbor. It was windy and cold, and I was smart enough to not bring a jacket (or I’m just that tough). We landed and it was the perfect time to go since the weather scared away the hordes of tourists. The fort was a mere shadow of its former self, but I could imagine how terrible it must have been for the defenders to be behind its ramparts and being shelled day after day. My favorite part of the visit consisted of the flag lowering ceremony that was similar to how the former Union defenders would do at the end of each day. It was an extremely windy day, and it was more challenging than you may think. Think about a fifty foot piece of heavy canvas flying and whipping at you violently, but luckily teamwork saved the day. Going back on the ferry, thankfully the weather let up to take in the many beautiful views of Charleston skyline and bridge. I later learned that Janice had thought I was going to propose to her on the ferry which surprised me. That big event will come later in the story at a more unique location! Instead, we continued to walk off our heavy lunch along the broad avenues of Charleston’s historical downtown. I could not get enough of how much history was around every corner. Surprisingly, we were hungry again, so we had to try a little place called Husk. It is in a late 19th Century mansion and led by a James Beard award winning chef, so we threw ourselves at the mercy of their menu. Janice wisely got reservations before we even landed in Charleston, so we checked in just below the steep staircase. We still had to wait for a table though since the entire establishment was hopping. Thankfully, they had a smaller guest house next door that was converted into a two tiered bar. The drink menu was Charleston through and through with references to parts of the city (the Four Corners of Law) and southern flavors. We were quickly seated upstairs at one of their rustic wooden tables. We started off with a Turcotte’s Tipple ($11) and a Charleston Light Dragoon’s Punch ($9). Janice’s tipple drink was an homage to the rider of the Triple Crown winner Secretariat, and it was a bourbon based, grapefruit-infused drink that was as fleet footed as its steed namesake. If you’re looking for a light, understated fruity drink for a hot summer day, this is your best bet. As for mine, it was taken straight from a 1783 recipe from the archives of the Preservation Society of Charleston. It was much stronger than Janice’s front porch refreshment due to the rum and the peach brandy, and it combined with black tea and lemon juice to add a spiked sweet/iced tea flavor to the mix. I’d liken this drink to a British version of a Manhattan. Even though we were next door, Husk’s staff actually came to get us upstairs in the guest house to lead us to our table in the main house. Now that’s what I call service! We were shown upstairs past their homemade pickled vegetables and firewood for the ovens to one of the front dining rooms that had a view of the second floor porch. Janice also got a Copperhead ($11) which a whiskey with a hint of absinthe that was like a licorice infused Old Fashion. As for food, we got a complimentary basket of fresh pretzel rolls that were small, warm orbs of heavenly dough with a side of whipped creamy butter. The culinary dream that happened soon thereafter was the stuff of legend. First, we got fried chicken skins with kimchi mayo, black garlic mayo, and scallions ($11) and glazed pig ear wraps ($12). The former was continuing with the southern fried theme from our Hominy Grill lunch. The people at Husk could sell them at any national chicken chain as a guilty pleasure and make a fortune. They were just the right amount of crunchy, salty, savory, and spice with the kimchi mayo. As for the glazed pig ear wraps, they were like a southern version of Korean ssam bap. The cook had similar strips of pork that were a bit tougher than kalbi, but they did have some pickled cucumbers and red onion to keep in line with this Korean fusion dish. I would highly recommend both of these appetizers. We moved on to the entrees where Janice got the heritage pork ($34) and the bacon cornbread ($8) while I got the flat iron steak ($34). I thought that combining the hottest ingredient/breakfast food since sliced bread with a delicious southern staple would have yielded an unforgettable pairing to our flawless dishes, but alas, we were not impressed since it was actually on the dry and crumbly side. Thankfully, my flat iron steak was assembled to perfection with medium rare steak, mushrooms, broccoli, and shishito peppers. The steak were burgundy nuggets of bliss and the vegetables were expertly sauteed. Kudos to the addition of the shishito peppers that gave the mostly mild ingredients a nearly undetectable hint of sweet spiciness. I thought Janice’s pork plate was ok, and she didn’t feel it warranted the price tag. I could see why because the pork, while flavorful, was too much of the same flavors. There wasn’t that element, like my peppers, that always kept you guessing with every forkful. Finally, there was the dessert, and what a dessert it was. It was a caramel bread pudding that consisted of a brown butter crumble and cinnamon ice cream with flower blossoms for decoration. Now, I’ve had my fair share of bread puddings, some good and others not so good (contrary to popular opinion), and this was hands down the best I’ve ever had. It wasn’t too hot or too cool. The crumbles were spiced and just in the perfect ratio to the soaked bread below that was filled with luscious caramel. The warmth of the skillet made the cinnamon ice cream atop this work of art melt and soak into each spoonful. I was having my own When Harry Met Sally moment by the time we sadly hit the end of our metal clad sweet secret. After we paid and did a short nightly jaunt around one of Charleston’s main streets, we made our way home after a successful first day in Charleston. Stay tuned for the next chapters in our journey and the road to our engagement proposal!

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Posted in Alcoholic, American Cuisine, Bakery, Beverages, Comfort Food, Desserts, Mixed Drinks, Pie and tagged Beverages, bread, Charleston, cheese, chicken, dining, Food, fried, grill, Hominy, Husk, peanuts, pudding, restaurant, Reviews, Sandwich, sauce, Southern, sweet, tomatoes, Travel. Bookmark the permalink.

My Neighbor Tokoro

Posted on April 23, 2016 by Mark T

Hello…helllooo..helloooooo….Is anyone still left out there that reads this blog? It seriously has been way too long since I have posted any new content on Mastication Monologues, but such is the life of someone working on a 2nd Bachelor’s degree. Thankfully, the light at the end of the tunnel is near, and I am looking forward to some mental rest and relaxation. Thankfully, I won’t slack too much though because I have plenty of great reviews and food adventures to bring to you. Today’s review involves Tokoro Sushi in the Lincoln Square neighborhood.

My fiancee, then girlfriend, suggested we try the new eatery when it opened last year, and we have been back since. However, our first visit wasn’t the most enjoyable compared to the second time. There is mainly street parking and there are plenty of public transportation options for those of you rocking Ventra cards on the bus or L. The interior of Tokoro looks like any other sushi restaurant complete with bamboo prints and assorted Japanese tchotchkes. Fitting given the name of the restaurant in Japanese literally means “place”, i.e. this could be the interior of any of the other million, lower/middle rung Chicago sushi restaurants. They have a BYOB policy and a free corkage service which helps if you care for a glass of chardonnay to go with your unagi. Upon sitting down, we looked over their extensive sushi menu and saw most of the the typical Japanese restaurant offerings from lunch specials, soups, gyoza dumplings, sushi rolls, sashimi, and even hibachi offerings for diners searching for something a bit more substantial. Janice and I preferred to try the figurative treasure chest of sushi that lay before us in the menu, so we got the “all you can eat” sushi option for 20 bucks. Some people always wonder or straight up deny that the all you can eat option is a waste of money, but when you think about it, there is some method to the madness. Based on current trends of fishing, human consumption, and sushi demand from around the world, the price of fish, especially the fatty toro tuna, is only going to sky rocket. Therefore, placing a cap on your wallet but not on your stomach makes perfect sense to me especially if you were as hungry as we were. Then again, who knows if most sushi restaurants actually use the fish advertised on the menu. The results are often times surprising. Either way, that didn’t stop us from enjoying some good, not great sushi. Thankfully, we got a complimentary bowl of miso soup which I think should come free with each meal in Japanese restaurants because it is such a simple but satisfying soup to make. This traditional Japanese soup consists of a kelp/fish based broth and a soy based paste called, you guessed it, miso. I have never seen it anywhere, but there are also red and mixed color miso pastes used in miso soup. However, I greatly enjoy the white miso which is typically used in American Japanese restaurants because it is salty, savory, and has a taste that envelopes your entire body with a warmth that is enhanced with the soft cubes of tofu and slightly crunchy scallion strands. Definitely great for the cold Chicago winters. Once we drained our bowls, it was time to dive into our sushi. Side note: the service was absolutely terrible the first time around in terms of waiting for food, but thankfully they have improved their turnaround time from ordering to bringing out your order. Our first platter consisted of the crazy tuna roll, spicy tuna roll, and mountain roll.

The crazy tuna roll, the one closest to the wasabi in the picture above, consisted of the rice rolled around a tuna and pepper mix and topped with slices of tuna and a sriracha chili sauce. I didn’t find it to be too spicy, but it went down just fine. The mountain roll was next which left the biggest impression on me for this round. The inside was a cool cucumber and creamy avocado duo, but the real fire came from the spicy crab and spicy mayo on top that was festooned with a sprinkling of crunchy tempura crumbs. I liked it the most out of the three selections due to the contrast between the relatively understated interior and the more eye-catching exterior. Kind of a case of sushi superficiality, but this is a roll whose cover really makes the book a must read. The same could not be said about the spicy tuna roll which was like the crazy tuna roll minus the “crazy” part. I’m a big spicy food eater, and I didn’t think it lived up to its fiery moniker. So it was not a big draw for me. It was just a transition to the next sushi round we ordered. We amped it up with a volcano roll, a kiss on fire roll, another mountain roll, and got some actual sushi on the side with a tomago, shrimp, and a piece of yellowtail. I’ve already spoken about the mountain roll, but the volcano roll and kiss on fire roll were bolder than the first round participants. The kiss on fire roll (between the raw fish and fried roll) did actually bring some spice since below the tuna there was a raw jalapeno pepper resting in wait for our unsuspecting taste buds. I always like being kept off kilter sometimes during my dining experience, and I would recommend this roll for those who do like a bit of spice with their rolls. Then there was the volcano roll. Frying actual sushi is a crime against humanity, yet with rolls it kind of works. The light, rice flour based batter goes well with the delicately constructed rolls, especially one that was bulging with spicy tuna, crab, avocado, cream cheese, and eel sauce and spicy mayo streaks across the sliced roll. I think this was more of a luxury roll than a spice-centric entree due to the amount of ingredients that went into it. I’d still recommend it though if you’re looking for a bit more heft to your typical sushi roll. I did not have the tomago (egg) sushi, the shrimp, or the yellowfin, but Janice said they were all competently made but not mind-blowingly fresh/delicious.

So, if you’re looking for a solid, middle of the road sushi restaurant on the far northside of Chicago, roll on over to Sushi Tokoro!

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Posted in Far East Asian Cuisine, Japanese and tagged Chicago, crunch, dining, Food, fried, jalapeno, mayo, northside, pepper, peppers, restaurant, Reviews, rice, rolls, salmon, soup, spicy, sushi, Tokoro, tuna, wasabi. Bookmark the permalink.

Nice to Meat You!

Posted on February 26, 2016 by Mark T

Zdravo, friends! Welcome to another edition of Mastication Monologues! If you didn’t recognize my initial greeting, it was just one way to say “Hello” in Bosnian. This Balkan nation goes back to time eternal, but after millennia of shifting borders and political alliances have managed to achieve stability and a high standard of life for its citizens. The name of Bosnia and Herzegovina is disputed, but many scholars believe that Bosnia is derived from the Bosna river while Herzegovina is a bit more complicated. A Bosnian nobleman adopted the title Herceg (“duke” in Bosnian) and combined it with the ending “-ovina” meaning “land”. Once again, a rich guy stamping his name on a piece of land like Pennsylvania and America, for example. Anyway, moving on from monikers, today’s post involves Kiko’s Meat Market, a homey piece of the Balkan nation located in the Lincoln Square neighborhood which is home to numerous immigrants from the Balkans.

It was a cold night when Janice and I finally made our way into this mysterious restaurant right across the street from one of numerous magic shops that inhabit this part of town for some odd reason. I didn’t know what to expect from an establishment with the term “meat market” in the title. Was it going to bring me back to my life as a deli counter worker in the now defunct Chicago-based, all things Slavic emporium Bobak’s Sausage Company, or perhaps something more fitting in the Boystown neighborhood? It was neither. There is street and paid parking on the surrounding streets, and the staff were very friendly to us upon entering. We heard more Bosnian and Serbian conversations than English as we were escorted to our seats which only added to the ambiance of traveling to another corner of the world without even needing a passport. As for the actual decor, it wasn’t anything over the top or notable. It was a basic diner that reminded me of some of the Polish diners that used to be all over on the Southwest side around my grandparents house. Not only was it a restaurant, but it was connected to a Balkan grocer and deli where you could buy different types of meats and treats from the old country. Definitely worth a visit if you’re looking for some sausage or bakery or waiting for the waitress to come to your table like I did. Before we got a chance to look over the menu, we ordered our drinks. I got a Jelen beer which is a Serbian pale lager. The name of the beer in Serbian means “deer” hence the majestic wildlife on the label. It was nothing of note. In fact, it reminded me of every beer from Southern Europe, i.e. thin and inoffensive. Not surprising when these brews come from wine cultures. On top of the liquid bread, we were provided the old fashioned sliced kind. It may not look like much, but it was clearly homemade with the warm, pliant middle and just crusty enough edges that were enhanced by the accompanying European butter that was smoother and not as salty as its American counterpart. These were just warning shots before the bomb that was dropped in the form of the entrees: the sampler platter (Mješano meso) and the cabbage rolls (sarma). The cabbage rolls looked similar to the gołąbki my Polish family makes for most, if not all, family get-togethers. It consisted of a soft and slightly sour exterior of translucent, pea green cabbage that was doused in a beef and tomato sauce. These little rolls were camping between two mini-mountains of mashed potatoes that were enhanced with a generous dollop of sour cream like fresh powder in the Alps. We quickly cut into the rolls and were met with a rice and beef blend that was kind of different from the pork, rice, and pea mixture found in my family’s Polish counterpart. It was everything I love about Eastern European cooking: warm, comforting, and hearty. The cool sour cream cut through the bit of grease that accompanied the meat. The mashed potatoes were anonymous in a plate full of character and bold flavors. After that first act, it was time to step up to the plate and take on the champ. The sampler platter was the Andre the Giant of our meal: just one giant hunk of meat (thankfully, better looking though).

Beauty and the Beast

Actually, to be specific it consisted of a variety of Bosnian meats including chevapi, sausages, chicken, veal kebobs, and veal liver all served within traditional a traditional Balkan pita bread with a side of fries, salad, and ‘kajmak’ cheese. We asked our waitress if it was going to be enough food before we ordered it, and once it was in front of us, we could see why she laughed at our naivete. I felt like I was King Arthur putting Excalibur back into its stone home, but instead of having my crown rescinded, we were both blessed with a bountiful meal. Naturally, the bread was warm and much more substantial than a Greek pita and baked to perfection. The kajmak cheese was like a Balkan version of brie that went very well on the warm bread. The chevapi weren’t new to us since we’ve tried other countries’ versions of these miniscule skinless sausages. They’re essentially char-grilled pieces of beef and pork that just go down way too easy. The sausages were all made in house, and they seemed to be pork based. I was more particular to their chicken that absorbed a little bit of each of the other meats’ flavors which isn’t surprising since every meat seems to taste like chicken. Long story short, if you’re a carnivore, this sampler platter is just for you. The veal kebobs were very tender, juicy, and bursting with flavor. We both tried a bit of the veal liver, but we weren’t fans of the unique, grainy texture that accompanies liver. Then again, we were also saving room for dessert like the smart people we are. Even though we felt like we were ready to burst, Janice jumped for the tiramisu while I went for the more exotic tufahija. Tiramisu isn’t Bosnian, rather Italian, and is a more recent invention around the 1960s. The origin of the name of the dessert is up for debate including the name of a Veneto baker’s apprentice’s maiden name, but a layer cake by any other name would taste as sweet and coffee-tastic. It was a welcome change from the heavier plates we chowed down on earlier. From the coffee soaked bottom layer to the heavenly light cream on top, it was a dessert fit for my classy bella donna. As for my tufahija, it is a relic of centuries of Ottoman rule in the Balkans. This is clearly evident since the name is derived from the Arabic word “tuffàh” (تفاحة‎) meaning “apple” in English, but the dessert itself originates in Persia. It consisted of a cold, skinned apple soaked in sugar water and then stuffed with walnuts and topped with whipped cream. It was so wildly different compared to everything I had that dinner, nay I’ve had in dessertdom, and I loved every minute of it. The apple was slightly moist and chilled but not soggy somehow. As I moved my way through the dessert, the core was filled with crunchy, basically raw walnuts that provided a much needed crunch and offset the sweet, but not overly so, apple. These elements by themselves were wonderful, and the whipped cream was good up to a point. I think it was a bit excessive with the wavy white sea this dessert was bobbing in. I would highly recommend this dessert though if you’re looking to break away from traditional end platters to your meal.

We left Kiko’s with very happy and stuffed bellies with another full meal of leftovers in our doggy bag, so you will definitely get your money’s worth at this eatery. If you’re a carnivore or looking for a new and unique restaurant that also serves one of Chicago’s many Balkan communities, you got to get to Kiko’s Meat Market!

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Posted in Bosnian, European Cuisine and tagged beef, Beer, Beverages, Bosnia, bread, cheese, Chicago, chicken, deli, Food, fried, Fries, grill, meat, pork, restaurant, Reviews, sauce, sausage, sweet. Bookmark the permalink.

To Live and Pie in Wicker Park

Posted on December 8, 2015 by Mark T

Welcome one and all to another great blog post from Mastication Monologues! Things have been picking up as of late since it’s the holiday season. In between studying and braving the Walking Dead-esque crowds at the mall, I managed to squeeze in a trip to a Chicago bakery that was truly memorable in terms of its concept and approach to classic desserts. If you’re a sweets lover, strap yourself in for a wild ride! If not, prepare to be amazed!

The adventure all started back when I received an email from A Baker’s Tale saying that they were huge fans of my blog at the bakery, and they wanted to invite me to an exclusive event for local bloggers. Naturally, I said yes, and informed Janice that we had some serious business to take care of. Baked goods business. I looked it up, and I saw it was located in the Bucktown/Wicker Park area which has been recently gentrified. What this means is that you can’t walk more than five feet without running into an ironic mustache or fixie bike. However, the exterior of A Baker’s Tale exuded neither a hint of pretentiousness nor any sort of kitchyness. Walking in, we were immediately greeted by the employees and eventually the owner, Christine, who’s in the middle of the pic below. I didn’t know where to look first in this coffee shop+bakery+fun house. Once more bloggers and vloggers and what have you arrived, Christine explained that she loves literature and baking which in turn translated to the Alice in Wonderland and other literature inspired establishment that surrounded us. Since I am also a fellow librophile, I couldn’t get enough of the homages to many classic works. From the classic book prints, the talking doorknob statue, whimsical cakes, hedgemazed trip to the bathroom, and the breathtaking tree overshadowing our tasting tables with leaves made of pages from Alice in Wonderland, there was no detail left on the sideline as we quickly made our way over to the tasting table. I was late, so late, for a very important date…with some bakery! Surprisingly, there was no door mouse, march hare, or Mad Hatter when we sat down. As more bloggers began to stream in and take their seats around the table, I was half driven to yell, “Change places!” to get in the spirit of Mr. Carrol’s work, but I decided to focus more on the diverse spread of pastries in front of us like a very late high tea. We started with a plate of a mini cherry pie, a passion fruit raspberry cheesecake, and a s’more bar. While none of them made me shrink or grown into a giant like Alice when speaking with the doorknob, they were big on flavor. First, there was the mini cherry pie that was a version of their normal sized pie. It was topped with hearts as an homage to the Queen, but I felt like a king with this royally decadent dessert. The crust was buttery and mixed with the sweet and tart filling to perfection. I then had the passion fruit raspberry cheesecake. It was filled with a burst of tropical flavor that was like a mix between an orange, mango, and lime that kind of gave the whipped cheesecake a slight key lime pie vibe on the aftertaste. However, if you’re not into tart flavors, it might be a bit overwhelming for you like it was for my gf, Janice. As good as these first two desserts were, they were beneath the third option: the s’mores bar. These desserts date as far back as the 1930s from a Girl Scout campfire cooking manual, or so the legend goes. However, A Baker’s Tale version of it presented it in the least messy way possible. One of my personal pet-peeves with traditional s’mores is how the crunchy graham crackers explode with every bite and can’t keep the blazing hot marshmallow inside to save its own inanimate life. I quickly learned upon the first bite that these bakers really can work magic.

Step 1: Take a bite

Step 2: Enlightenment

Step 3: Devour

The graham cracker base was soft yet substantial and topped with a house-made marshmallow fluff that sported a rich, chocolate accent that tied it all together to perfection. Plate two wasn’t as over the top in terms of bombastic flavors, but it was a solid entry to the tasting event. The chocolate chunk and peanut butter cookies (both also were available in gluten free versions at the tasting as well) were good but not great probably because they weren’t the most decadent options. Case in point, they were overshadowed by the toffee chocolate cheesecake that was presented in a Reese’s peanut butter cup form. From the Oreo cookie crumb crust to the creamy filling that had ample pieces of chocolate coated toffee and a thin layer of gooey caramel on top, this dessert checked all the boxes for me. Moving from there, the next plate was the belle of the dessert ball. It consisted of three, vibrant, expertly-crafted macarons sporting three very different flavors: pistachio (green), raspberry (red), and elderberry (blue). According to the almighty Wikipedia/internet, macarons originated in Venetian monasteries in the 9th Century A.D. but were brought to France when Catherine Medici, an Italian noblewoman, married King Henry II of France. Their popularity began to rise during the French Revolution when two nuns in the city of Nancy made the cookies to pay for their rent; however, the original version of these desserts were basically a cookie. The modern version of the macaron with two cookies and a filled center came about in the 1830s in Paris where it was known as the Gerbet, named after the supposed inventor, or the macaron parisien. They were then brought over the USA and sometimes confused with the coconut-based macaroon. Actually, the word “macaroon” is just the English translation for the French “macaron“. Whatever it’s called, these little morsels went down too easily. My personal favorite was the pistachio because it was sweet but not too sweet whereas the elderberry one was a bit too saccharine for my palate (surprising, I know). The outer cookies had that thin, crisp shell that gave way to feathery interiors that led to the thin but incredibly rich layer of flavored cream. Ils sont tres delicieux! Finally, there was the somewhat sweet and savory plate. Whereas the other plates contained straight up desserts, the scone platter mixed it up in terms of flavors and textures. Scones have an interesting history to say the least. Their name has many different origins including the Middle Dutch schoonbrood or “pure bread”, the Scots Gaelic’s sgonn or “large mouthful”, or perhaps after the Scottish town of Scone. They were not as cutesy at they look today because before baking powder, a scone was a large, flat, unleavened oat cake made on a griddle. Thankfully, A Baker’s Tale did not harken back to the scone’s roots. The two on display were the vanilla scone and the jalapeno white cheddar scone. I thought I would prefer the former over the latter, but in reality, it was the opposite. Yes, both were denser and somewhere between moist and arid that scones should be compared to the aforementioned cookies and cakes, but somehow the savory option won me over. I personally think it was because it was such a sharp contrast to the mountains of sweet stuff I hoovered up over the course of the tasting, but I was partial to the clear pepper notes that came out in every bite that resulted in me showering the floor with crumbs. Don’t hate me because I’m so debonair. I highly recommend the jalapeno scones if you don’t have much of an affinity for all things sugary sweet.

As the night went on and my sugar levels reached their optimum level of satisfaction, we called it quits. We departed A Baker’s Tale with a warm farewell from the owners and thoughts of the wonderful experience we had the priviledge of enjoying. I highly recommend a visit to this very welcoming bakery that boasts desserts that are as satisfying as a finishing a great read where all of the ends are tied up and the villains receive their just desserts. Lucky them!

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Posted in Bakery, Cake, Cookies, Pastries, Pie and tagged baking, cakes, cherry, Chicago, chocolate, cookies, jalapeno, macaron, northside, peanut butter, pepper, pies, scone, tasting, vanilla, Wicker Park. Bookmark the permalink.

Woochon Clan Ain’t Nothing to Mess With

Posted on December 2, 2015 by Mark T

Fire. It can both cleanse or soil, sustain or end life, or perfectly cook or singe delicious, mouth watering meat. Chicago has always been known for their meat products. At one point, we were known as the “Hog-butcher to the world” compliments of one Carl Sandburg due to the presence of the now defunct Union Stockyards that were an engine of industry and the employer of the immigrant masses that called Chicago their new home. Although these legions of cattle and pigs no longer stream into the city by the millions, the ethnic communities have remained a very integral part of Chicago. They are constantly in flux depending on the decade and world politics. On the northside of Chicago, there has long been a large and tightly knit Korean community. Going down Lawrence Avenue, you can still see some of the remnants of the once thriving Koreatown that my girlfriend tells me about when she was younger. Thanks to the Immigration Act of 1965, it allowed these Korean immigrants to finally come in families and establish business that brought the pleasures of the home country to the US of A. However, due to changing demographics and the rise of the Latino population in America, Koreatown now has more of a Latin American and Middle Eastern flavor due to the original Korean families moving to surrounding northern suburbs. However, that doesn’t mean that the food has gone anywhere! Even though I have lived in South Korea and have eaten my fair share of different Korean foods, I’m always down for a quick pop over to a new restaurant that my girlfriend swears by. She hasn’t steered me wrong yet! In this case, we went to Woo Chon Korean BBQ .

It is a very tiny restaurant that is wedged between a Korean store that is both grocer and video store next door that has all of your K-drama needs. However, if you want to get some of the best barbecue in the city, this is your place. The waitstaff is also probably some of the nicest you can find in a Korean restaurant since they aren’t known for having the same rules as found in American restaurants. They might be a bit gruffer or forward compared to your typical server in a T.G.I.Fridays, but they know how to make some delicious food. We were quickly seated at one of their simple tables which are a bit cramped if you are six feet or taller like yours truly. We decided to start with kimchi pajeon or a type of savory Korean pancake. It is derived from a Chinese green onion pancake (cōngyóubǐng) yet different because it is made from an egg based mix. The name “pajeon” literally means “green onion (pa) + pancake (jeon)”. While the ingredients seem quite obvious, there are many varieties of jeon that can be filled with different meats, seafood, or in this case, the signature fermented Korean lifeforce known as kimchi. Typically, Janice’s family gets the haemul jeong or fish, shellfish, and octopus pancake, but I can’t get enough of kimchi in any form. It was a ton of food to start off the meal for a reasonable price. It is kind of bready yet filled with crunchy green onions and spicy, crisp pieces of hot and spicy fermented cabbage. As we moved our way through this perfect pancake, they quickly began putting out the banchan or little plates of random Korean snacks like pickled cucumbers, cellophane noodles, pickled radish, and even the mysterious acorn jelly that looks like cut up, corrugated pieces of rubber. It’s not at terrible as it sounds but not my cup of tea. As well as bringing out the small plates, the server also provided us with a blazing hot bowl of coals for cooking our orders of kalbi or beef short ribs. Korean bbq has been a bit of a recent phenomenon in American cuisine, but it is a form of dining as old as time. In Korea, eating beef was a great privilege since the cattle were beasts of burden, and the Koryo Buddhist dynasty of rulers forbade the consumption of meat. However, in the 13th Century, those crazy Mongols invaded and removed the ban. They were pragmatic nomads, but they knew good food too. However, beef didn’t become prevalent on Korean tables until the latter half of the 20th Century as South Korea quickly became the advanced nation we now know. History lesson over, we threw the raw pieces of meat on the grill with a satisfying sizzle and pop. Once Janice grilled them to perfection, we mixed them with rice, doenjang (soybean paste), and banchan in leaves of lettuce to create ssam bap or what could be described as lettuce wraps with plenty of savory flavors to enjoy. We also got a side of pre-prepared dwegi bulgogi or sliced pork loin that is sauteed in a soy based sauce infused with ginger, gochujang (chili sauce), garlic, sugar, and rice wine. It wasn’t on the menu but highly recommend this Korean classic. It also has a bit of a spicy kick to it if you’re not feeling the more mild grilled meats. I loved mixing the pork’s zing with the green onions that came with the kalbi. It provided a definite earthiness that mellowed out the grease of the meat. We also got an order of moo guk or literally “radish soup”. If there’s one thing Korean soups and stews are known for, or at least what I’ve noticed, is being absolutely as hot as the surface of the sun, temperature-wise. While it takes a bit of time to cool off, the taste alone is worth it. Plus, if you’re looking for a bowl of comfort food during these cold Chicago months, step aside mac ‘n’ cheese, get a warm and filling bowl of soup. By the end of the meal, we were stuffed to the gills with great food, and we were ready to take on the cold climes outside.

So if you’re looking for a more low-key Korean bbq place that isn’t packed with everyone who wants to experience the novelty of grilling meat at their table, I’d recommend Woo Chon Korean BBQ. Oh yeah, and the food is mouth-watering to say the least and easy on the old wallet.

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Posted in Far East Asian Cuisine, South Korean and tagged banchan, bbq, bulgogi, Chicago, guk, kalbi, kimchi, onions, pajeon, soup, sour, South Korean, tang, Woochon. Bookmark the permalink.

A Sumptuous RePass

Posted on October 12, 2015 by Mark T

Welcome one and all to another very interesting and hearty food post on Mastication Monologues! Today’s subject actually involves a type of cuisine that is as old as time and comes from an incredibly well traveled part of the world, the Khyber Pass. While this landmark might not evoke a reaction from most readers, it is actually one of the crucial geographic features to the shifting sands and roaming armies of global empires. It is a key link between Afghanistan and Pakistan, and has been transversed by every conqueror from Alexander the Great, Darius I of Persia (Father of the big bad Xerxes from the movie 300), Ghengis Khan, British colonial forces, and even to the modern day with the murky conflict with the Taliban and NATO forces. Not only was the Khyber Pass a route for war since time immemorial, but it also was a giant outpost during the heyday of the Silk Road. With all of these populations moving to and fro in the region, naturally they were going to leave an impression on the local cuisine. I mean, they were peddling seasonings to Europeans that we take for granted nowadays for imparting all of our food and drinks with immense amounts of flavor like black pepper, chili peppers, cinnamon, cloves, ginger, and even nutmeg to name a few. Basic white girls in Fall wouldn’t even be a trending meme in American culture if it wasn’t for the Khyber Pass! A giant historical stretch, I know, but a definite reality we have to deal with. Thankfully, when Janice and I visited the Oak Park location of the Khyber Pass restaurant chain, there wasn’t any pumpkin but plenty of spice on the menu.

It was a cold and frozen drizzle kind of a day, so what better way to cut through the terrible weather than some soul-warming Indian food? We walked in around the lunch hour after finding some parking in the back, and it was not terribly packed. It was very welcoming with its warm colors and interesting decorations.

This takes all spice to another level

Tea, anyone?

We were quickly seated, and we noticed that they had a lunch buffet special for $15. Based on my experience with previous buffets, I didn’t have any qualms, so we informed the waiter we were interested in getting our money’s worth since we were starving. According to Khyber Pass’ website, they champion the cuisine of the Pathan people or more commonly known as the Pashtun in their language, Pashto. Their homeland spans the border between Afghanistan and Pakistan, and some famous Pashtun that you might of heard of include Harmid Karzai, the former president of Afghanistan, and Malala Yousafzai, the famous young lady who stood up to the Taliban for women’s rights. Clearly, it is a region that is not the easiest to live in, so their cuisine is similar to Indian food in terms of utilizing simple ingredients in a variety of ways with plenty of spice and flavor in every bite. This was epitomized looking over the assortment of vegetarian and non-vegetarian dishes along with a healthy array of curries, salads, soups, sides, and entrees. We decided to try their half of a tandoori chicken ($12.95 or $16.95 for a whole) along with a side of naan bread to accompany our foray into the buffet. Before we received all of our food, I got a Maharaja Premium Beer to slake my thirst, and that’s all about it did. This brew from Mumbai was nothing of great note. It was a thin, slightly fruity pilsner that had a very faint, bitter aftertaste. I wouldn’t go back for another one. However, the tandoori chicken and naan looked great. Tandoori chicken originally was popular in the northern region of India and Pakistan called the Punjab due to the cultural practice of every home having a charcoal fired oven called a tandoor. Just like in India, Khyber Pass roasted their chicken in a traditional tandoor after it had been marinated in yogurt, Kashmiri chilies, and turmeric. However, this chicken isn’t super spicy if you don’t have a tongue of steel. It is instead savory with swirls of flavor that are both umami yet earthy. The naan bread we had it with also has an interesting history. It seems like your typical, slightly leavened, flatbread that has been around since the beginning of time and the word originates from the Iranian word “n’n” which is a general word for “food” or “bread”. However, this particular type of bread only became popular beyond the Indian subcontinent and surrounding cultures when the Roma people, more commonly known as “gypsies”, brought it during their exodus across the Central Asian steppe all the way to Europe. Side note: Based on genetic blood studies done in Roma communities and studying the Romani language, all signs point to an origin in India, not Romania, Ireland, or even Egypt which is where their modern nickname came from. The Greek’s believed they came from Egypt, so they called the Roma Αἰγύπτιοι (Aigyptioi) or “those from Egypt” which then eventually made its way to the Middle English “gypcian“. Whatever they call themselves, I can’t get enough of their bread. It has more body and texture contrasts than a pita but still has its strength when dealing with soupy curries. Khyber Pass’ naan had both a lightly buttered, crunch exterior that gave way to a moderately chewy center that sopped up all of the delicious chicken juices and the plates we got from the buffet. My first plate was a mix of different items from their regular menu including: vegetable pakora ($5.50), green salad ($5.95), chicken curry ($11.95), bhuna gosht (lamb in a light spicy sauce), bengan bhurtha (stewed eggplant; $10.95).

Clockwise: green salad, lamb, chicken, vegetable pakora, and eggplant

The pakora were little, deep fried vegetable fritters that were rich with flavor but not super greasy. Plus, the smooth breading was very different than typically Western fried foods that is flakier. Surprisingly, their green salad lived up to its name, even more impressive that it was part of their buffet, since it was bursting with fresh, verdant veggies that I topped off with the slightly tangy raita yogurt sauce. The chicken curry was competently made but nothing to rave about. I felt that the food overall wasn’t super spicy, so I asked them to bring some sort of hot sauce. They brought me a Sriracha knock-off, but I told them that I wanted what they, i.e. the South Asian staff, ate. Next thing I know, I was greeted with a cook inspired hot sauce that looked nuclear from the bright orange yellow that was emanating from the bowl.

This just looks angry.

I put it on my chicken, and it was amazing. It was a coconut based sauce that up on the vindaloo level of spice that let me know that I, a real chilihead, was actually eating something spicy. They were shaking their heads when I wasn’t dying from heat stroke, and that added to the long list of people from spicy food cultures being flabbergasted at my spice tolerance. Yet, I think that it offers a more authentic experience that isn’t watered down for the locals. Tongue searing spice aside, I was definitely into the bhuna gosht or stewed lamb. It added the gamey dimension that comes with lamb and fused it with a cumin and curry sauce that took it to another level of flavor awareness. It was the clear standout on my plate and paired perfectly with a hefty piece of naan for some finger food that was finger licking good. The bengan bhurtha was a close runner up in terms of flavor. It consisted of minced eggplant roasted directly over a fire that then was stewed with cilantro, chilis, and onions. The smoky flavor from the grill was unlike any other eggplant I had ever tasted, and it was melt in your mouth tender. My second plate wasn’t as over the top as the first with dal mukhni ($10.95) and stewed vegetables as the only new entries.

Clockwise: green salad, eggplant, lentils, vegetables

The dal mukhni was supposed to be a four lentil stew, but it seemed quite heavy on the chickpeas. I wasn’t impressed by it or the dal mukhni and should have gotten more of the meat dishes and bengan bhurtha. Unfortunately, by the end of the second plate, we were stuffed and had no more room for dessert sady. However, Khyber Pass left us with full bellies and wallets before going out into the cold.

So if you find yourself downtown or in Oak Park and are looking for an establishment with typical Indian food prices that aren’t the cheapest in the world but with plenty of authentic and unique dishes, I suggest swiping right instead of left on Khyber Pass!

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Posted in Indian, Southeast/Southern Asia Cuisine and tagged Afghanistan, Beer, bread, chicken, fried, India, lamb, lentils, naan, Pakistan, Pilsner, sauce, spice, stewed, vegetables. Bookmark the permalink.

Ann Extraordinary Brunch

Posted on October 9, 2015 by Mark T

Hello and happy Fall to all (or Autumn for the international crowd)! It has been way too long since my last post, about a month to be exact, and I’m planning on changing that fact right now. If you’ve been wondering why the silence on the foodie front, it’s due to my path to speech pathology grad school. However, that hasn’t extinguished my passion for tasty morsels and bring all the best recommendations to you, the readers. Today’s post focuses on the Chicago diner cornerstone Ann Sather.

I’ve heard every opinion of these diners ranging from sheer ecstasy when talking about their famous cinnamon rolls to ambivalence to the opposite end of the spectrum with upturned noses looking for greener brunch pastures. Instead of turning my interest away from this supposedly inferior diner to other, more modern establishments, it only intensified my curiosity when Janice, Michael, and I visited the Broadway cafe location, but there are other locations on the northside Chicago with one on Belmont and another on Granville. Now, with a name for a restaurant like Ann Sather, you can safely bet that there is a story. According to their website, Ann Sather was a real woman who bought the original restaurant over 70 years ago on Belmont from the previous Swedish owners of the property. She was a stickler for quality, simple food made from scratch with a mix of American breakfast staples, Swedish classics, and a bit of Ann’s ingenuity. Ann eventually passed the baton in the mid 1990s to a southsider named Tom Tunney who actually is a Chicago alderman as well. Even with the changing faces in charge, their decades of quality food and service shone through during our visit. The Ann Sather cafe had plenty of personality on the inside with lots of Swedish inspired artwork which brightened up a rather gray and drizzly day. I don’t know if it was my sweet tooth on a rampage or the warm orange/yellow motif, but I knew I needed to get some of their famous, daily handmade cinnamon rolls into my belly. When they came out, they looked like the best $3.50 I spent. When I sunk my teeth into one of these rolls, I was transported to culinary Valhalla on a boat of soft, cinnamon spiced dough covered in a rich, sugary sauce with a vanilla hint. I wish I could have had an entire pan of them, but I knew I had to slow my roll (see what I did there) because I needed room for my actual breakfast entree. Perusing the menu, I didn’t know where to begin. Their wraps and omelets looked way to good to just pick one, but I couldn’t jump off that sugar train after taking down those cinnamon rolls like a great white shark to a seal. Sadly, I don’t have a week on the Discovery Channel or the Food Channel devoted to me yet, so I got to keep practicing with more great eats like what I ordered next. I finally settled on the daily special which was their cinnamon roll French toast ($7.50). It was an interesting transformation of the dulcet treats I just devoured. Instead of being doused with the sticky, soupy icing, a sprinkling of powdered sugar covered the plate and rolls like the semi-flurries that were fluttering past our window outside. The fine white covering was punctuated with bright raspberries and blueberries and a tan layer of granola that blended into the rolls’ surface. However, I didn’t know that the magic of the dish lie in wait for me because when I cut open the meal for my first bite,

Presto…

I was greeted with a cream cheese filling.

change-o!

It wrapped the plate together to perfection. The French toast transformation of the cinnamon rolls replaced an overwhelming pool of pure sugar with more subtle, nuanced elements that complimented each other to make a Swedish-American original. The berries, treading the fine line between sweet and tart, provided a contrast to the powdered sugar and sweet, but not overwhelmingly so, cream cheese filling. I actually liked that the cream cheese centers were not too chunky or heavy but instead whipped to keep the rolls from turning into a culinary quagmire. Plus, let’s not forget the granola, dude! It was just enough to form a thin, rough coating to provide a satisfying and groovy crunch to the majority of the squishier ingredients, and the honey coating on each piece of the granola made me feel like these rolls and I were meant to bee. I highly recommend this daily special if they have it available, and I have to note that my fellow diner’s choices were great as well.

In closing, I have to say that my visit to Ann Sather’s quashed all of the negative publicity with their food that is clearly made with plenty of care and quality ingredients along with a very affordable price tag in a brunch town where some prices are just plain criminal at times. So, if you want to get a piece of Chicago’s breakfast history, roll on down to Ann Sather!

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Posted in Bakery, Breakfast, Chain Restaurants, Pastries and tagged Ann Sather, berries, breakfast, Chicago, cinnamon, dining, Food, French, fried, granola, northside, restaurant, Reviews, roll, toast. Bookmark the permalink.

Picking Up and Eating the Tab(erna)

Posted on August 28, 2015 by Mark T

Hola a todos y bienvenidos a Mastication Monologues! If you couldn’t tell, the flavor of today’s post is Spanish, and what a wonderful flavor that is. Spain is known for many things: sun, bullfights, and flamenco to name a few, but few may truly appreciate what a giant Spain is in the culinary world. It seems like only recently that tapas have become truly popular in the United States, and we are feeling the full force of molecular gastronomy, a technique of manipulating the molecular composition of food and drink in order to render them in a different form, that was pioneered in Europe, first in France and then in Spain. Two names of chefs/magicians that immediately spring to mind in regard to this food movement are Ferran Adrià, head of the famous but now defunct El Bulli, and José Andrés, restauranteur and one of Anthony Bourdain’s besties.

The real O.G.s

However, these giants of the food world would contend that what they do isn’t molecular gastronomy. Tomato/tomahto. These advanced ideas have made their way even to Chicago as found at Grant Achatz’s Alinea, widely considered the best restaurant in the world, or at the wildly innovative Moto which was owned by the late kitchen mad scientist, Homaro Cantu. However, I’m not here to talk about molecular gastronomy but rather tapas. I’ve had my fair share of tapas after living in Spain, and this has served as the measuring stick for all other taperías outside of the peninsula. I’ve had some charming tapateos and others not so much, but I found La Taberna Tapas to be a perfect place to get some delicious finger food in the Chi.

Janice and I went here back in the winter wonderland half of this year to meet two of her friends from out of town, and it was a the perfect venue to do so. The parking on the street is plentiful even though you have to pay for it. The interior was dark but welcoming, and the live music started soon after we sat down. Thankfully even though it was flamenco dancing and guitar, it wasn’t overwhelming like other restaurants that I’ve been to with live music acts. I get that you’re enthusiastic about your craft, but there’s a fine line between passion and being obnoxious. Tread lightly when I’m eating, brah. Before I get to the foodstuffs, let me have a moment for the beers I tried. Both of them came from the super verdant and Celtic influenced northwestern corner of Spain known as Galicia, and the Hijos de Rivera brewery that has been making these beers will be celebrating its 110 year anniversary. Perhaps their longevity could be down to them keeping the operations 100 percent Spanish and keeping it in the family. Who knows? I have to say though that when living in Spain, I wasn’t too impressed overall with Spanish beers, but the Estrella Galicia ($5) had a lot more taste than the more grating on the palate Estrella Damm from Cataluña. This brew from Hijos de Rivera was a slightly bitter lager that went down smooth and heightened the bold flavors of the tapas that were to make their appearance soon. The Estrella Galicia wasn’t an upper echelon type of libation, but it’s just something refreshing to sip on. The 1906 Reserva Especial ($5) from the gallego brewery was better since it poured with a good amount of head and had more notes of caramel and grass throughout each sip. It was another solid, if not spectacular, Galician beer. Anyway, now onto the good stuff: the tapas!

First, we had the pinacho de pollo that consisted of grilled chicken breast, sauteed bell peppers and onions, and garnished with a basil aioli and pistashio pesto. I would recommend this segundo plato since it is a bit more filling than the dainty plates that we followed this one up with. Not only is it satisfying, but the ingredients are superb. The succulent, pure white chicken was further amped up by the basil aioli and pesto. These elements combined with the veggies made for a complete dish that also was quite easy on the eyes. The torre de berenjena y tomate ($7) or tower of eggplant and tomato kind of fell flat in my mind and mouth. It didn’t seem that spectacular with some mushy slices of eggplant in a pool of bland tomato sauce. I’d skip this tapa unless you’re vegetarian. Another tomato based tapa that I always enjoy, and it was no different here, was the queso de cabra ($7) or goat cheese. It consists of is a chunk of goat cheese that is baked in a tomato basil sauce topped with truffle oil with a side of tomato and garlic rubbed pieces of toasted bread. What more could you ask for? Well, for one thing, I would suggest that they make it more even ratio of cheese to tomato sauce since I felt like we got cheated out of the earthy cheese that goes so perfectly with the seasoned and warm tomato sauce on the crusty bread. On the plus side, we followed it up with two of my favorite tapas: patatas bravas ($7) and dátiles con tocino ($7). With the former, it is hands down my favorite tapa. It’s nothing fancy since it just consists of cubed and fried potatoes and a paprika infused aioli. So easy, yet never reproduced Stateside surprisingly. This version of my favorite tapa was almost like what I inhaled back in Barcelona yet not. The white sauce was more on the mild side, and the potatoes were also covered in a chunkier tomato sauce bordering on an Italian marinara. As for the dátiles con tocino, they were the same like I´ve had before yet different. These sweet and gooey chunks of heaven were put to bed with a crunchy snuggie of bacon, but I think the sweet sherry reduction was a bit too much a case of gilding the lily. We weren´t only sampling creatures of the land but also the sea. The script flipped when they brought out our pulpo a la plancha or grilled octopus ($9). This was another salute to Galicia which is known for quality grilled octopus seasoned with paprika. I didn’t taste much of the almond pesto, but the squirt of lemon over it with the herb coated potatoes made it a good mix of surf and tuber turf. The final two tapas we had wouldn’t really be considered true tapas. The pincho punta de res ($7) is a supposed to be an homage to Basque culinary traditions where the word actually comes from the Spanish “pinchar” meaning “to pierce”. If you go to the Basque Country in northern Spain, you will notice that all of their “tapas” are actually pierced with toothpicks and not just served in a dish. Therefore, I don’t understand how these pinchos are Moorish as indicated on La Taberna’s menu. Origin’s aside, I thought these skewers were more like taking a page from the Brazilian steakhouse than a tapería, but this didn’t take away from the high quality of the peppered steak that was paired with a generous helping of tenderly caramelized onions and a cup of sinus clearing horseradish sauce. Surprisingly, we still had a bit of room left at the end of the meal for another classic Spanish dish in the form of paella con pollo y conejo or paella with chicken and rabbit ($12). The word “paella” comes from the Latin “patella” or Old French “paelle“, both of which mean “pan”. The origin of the dish is a bit shrouded in mystery, but the most likely origin is from Valencia on the east coast of Spain during the reign of the Moors (8th Century-15th Century A.D.). The Valencian people managed to use the old Roman irrigation systems to grow more rice which was brought to the peninsula by the Islamic rulers. They then took the rice, local seafood, and cooked them together in a pan. The popularity of the dish soon grew in the following centuries to other parts of Spain like Madrid where they added other types of meat, like the variety we ate at La Taberna, and eventually became world renowned. I visited Valencia during my residence in Spain, and I got a tin of paella from the mercado central, and it was a jump up from La Taberna’s version. La Taberna’s paella was good but not the best ever. It was well made with plenty of peppers, peas, onions, and even a Latin American twist with chile de árbol that gave the meal a smoky undertone. The smoke enhanced the chicken and rabbit, but these meat elements didn´t shine as much as the cooked veggies, in my opinion. I´d still recommend this paella though if you´ve never had it before and want one of Spain´s signature meals.

So in closing, if you want to have a taste of Spain´s delights for a date night or just a fun night out of culture and culinary adventures, get down to La Taberna Tapas for a tapateo you won´t forget!

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Posted in European Cuisine, Spanish and tagged beef, Beer, Chicago, chicken, eggplant, Galicia, Halsted, onions, paella, peas, peppers, potatoes, rabbit, rice, saffron, Spain, tapas, tomatoes, UIC. Bookmark the permalink.

It’s Greek to Me

Posted on August 25, 2015 by Mark T

Everyone needs a no-frills diner. A place where you can go to get food that may not be the best for you or might not look the prettiest, but you know it will always make you feel good. This type of culinary sanctuary is as varied as an individual’s palate, mood, and perhaps even time of day. Let’s be real, late night eats are never the healthiest in the world, but there’s nothing like being a little naughty when the sun goes down. This is where Margie’s Restaurant comes in.

It was a cold and dark night like any old Midwestern winter night, and Janice was craving a milkshake and some fries. Instead of just going to the local McDonald’s, I suggested we try a local favorite that I’ve always seen but never visited. Margie’s is not much from the outside or inside. It’s just a local fast food joint that serves really basic food for reasonably prices in large portions like your standard hamburgers and hotdogs or Chicago classics like homemade Italian beef sandwiches. While I do love all of those, I had a particularly greasy favorite in mind when I went to order. The gyro (plural: gyros) has become a staple of American fast food cuisine compliments of Greek immigrants who brought it here and made it popular in their diners across the nation. It probably became popular with Americans due to the fact that you can eat it on the go even though I wouldn’t recommend it since they can be pretty jam packed with ingredients. The name is also a point of contention as you might hear “jai-ro”, “jeer-oh”, or “yee-ro”, but the closest pronunciation is the last one. The word “gyro” comes from the word for “turn” which replaced the Turkish term “doner” which means the same thing. The turn part comes from the fact that the gyro meat is roasted vertically and sliced off in thin strips with a long knife or shaver. This technique was invented in the 19th Century in Turkey, but the Greeks will tell you otherwise. Your typical gyro consists of a pita flatbread that is filled with spiced lamb, tomatoes, onions, and tzatziki sauce. However, there are alternatives out there; the most common variant I’ve seen is with chicken instead of lamb. I always keep it traditional because I love the spice and flavor of lamb that the Eastern Mediterranean nations do so well. Margie’s had a gyro special where I could get a plate of the Greek classic with a side of fries for 5 bucks. Naturally, I jumped at the chance. The service was brisk given I went on a random weeknight, and it was freezing outside. The food came out quickly and wrapped up very nicely. When I got home, Janice definitely enjoyed her meal, and when I opened up my bag, I didn’t know where to start. A huge pita was lain over a facefull of fries, tomatoes, and onions along with two tubs of tzatziki sauce. Basically, I had to be the mad scientist to put this monstrosity together, and luckily I had the skill and mettle to do just that. Once I combined everything like a boss, I got down to the business. The typical problem that I mentioned before is that the meat is oftentimes quite greasy, so you run the risk of having your clothes ruined by the gyro’s juices hopping a ride on your pants and or shirt. Margie’s gyro, on the other hand, was not greasy at all, and the pita held up quite well to my ravenous choppers tearing through my meal. The tomatoes were fresh and onions plentiful, and the tzatziki was cool and tangy like any good yogurt based sauce should be with hints of cucumbers. As for the French fries, they were of the crinkle cut variety, and they were fried to perfection. I wasn’t able to finish the golden stack of potato sticks due to the filling nature of the gyro, but I highly recommend this special or any of the other specials. You’ll get your money’s worth, that is for certain.