Tag Archives: beef

First Tine Eating Here, but Second Tine Is a Charm

Posted on March 13, 2015 by Mark T

Update: Even though this post was very negative of Knife and Tine in Chicago during Restaurant Week, we were treated to a comped meal courtesy of the management. With this free money, we spent it very well given that their menu had plenty of great options compared to the Restaurant Week offerings. While the food from our first visit was either bland or super salty, the food this time around was great all around since they weren’t under the gun to throw out tons of food all at once. We started the meal with a free plate of their biscuit bread. It was crumbly on the outside and soft and warm on the inside. Plus, the giardiniera butter spread was a spicy cherry on the cake. Moving on to the main course, I got the bone in pork chop ($24) that was succulent and served on top of a bed of farro or an Italian wheat that tasted like fried rice with sprigs of green onion mixed in. My girlfriend ended up getting the dry roasted mussels ($12). I’m not a huge seafood person, but after trying one, they weren’t too bad compared to the more snot-like oysters. My girlfriend said that they were absolutely wonderful especially with the fennel infused salsa verde. Overall, it was a pleasant time, and I recommend a visit if you have a chance.

Welcome one and all to Mastication Monologues where I review restaurants and bring you some of my food adventures throughout Chicago and the rest of the world! This post is the final installation of Chicago Restaurant Week, and sadly it doesn’t live up to other great days that were filled with spicy plates and savory treasures. Today’s review deals with the brand new eatery Knife and Tine that opened in 2014 in the chic Lincoln Park neighborhood in Chicago.

The outside of the restaurant was modern and clean with flagstone from corner to corner, and the inside was like most modern American gastropubs: dimly lit and dark accents. Upon sitting down, we were supplied with our Restaurant Week menus. It was like most other restaurants that allowed for diners to try a three course meal for the low low price of $33 dollars, but Knife and Tine also had a $44 souped up menu that had more decadent options. The complimentary bread that started it all off wasn’t decadent. The pimento cheese spread that came on the side was a bit too salty for my liking, but it was slightly spicy that salvaged my taste buds. To start, we got an order of the spoon bread and the pear salad. The former actually didn’t involve any bread, rather fried pieces of whipped cornmeal. This staple of Southern US cooking left much to be desired on their own. They were quite bland, and the batter had no character whatsoever. They came with a hot sauce bacon aioli (dipping sauce) that might as well have been called “cream of salt with a dash of bacon”. On the other hand, the pear salad was light, refreshing, and balanced in terms of the earthy baby arugula, sweet pear slices, and salty Parmesan flakes that were liberally strewn about the salad. Then there were the arancini which are a Sicilian dish allegedly being invented in the 10th Century A.D. during Arab rule. As for the name, it comes from the Sicilian word “arancine” meaning orange since these fried rice balls are shaped like their fruit namesakes. It was fried like the spoon bread, yet a lot more flavorful than the cornmeal stuffed bites. Unfortunately, it was a matter of quantity over quality in terms of tastes as the pimento cheese and cheddar took over this plate, and even then it was more salty than savory. As we moved from snacks to the main entrees, I tucked into my chicken and dumplings platter. It looked ok, and when I had my first bite, it was a let down. While the crispy skin gave the chicken a satisfying crunch, the meat was greasy, and the ricotta dumplings were bland and semi-soggy soaking up the au-jus. As for Janice’s beef cheeks, I actually preferred the brussel sprout salad that had a tangy vinaigrette over the over roasted meat. I’m sure if you really like pot roast or other really stewed meats, this would be the dish for you. It’s not quite my cup of tea. The bone marrow bread pudding (on the left below) was confusing since I felt like the bread part overshadowed the spreadable goodness that is bone marrow. It was a case of gilding the beef cheek in this case. I was extremely impressed with the desserts, and this isn’t just my sweet tooth talking. The denouement of our dinner took the form of coconut lime panna cotta and a super brownie. The panna cotta (Italian for “cooked cream”) was coated with a blueberry coulis or thick sauce and topped with sesame tuiles (French for “tiles”) or a wafer of sorts and candied ginger.
This Italian version of flan was also infused with a bit of coconut and lime juice with gave it an interesting tropical feel. My favorite part were the toppings like the crispy sesame bits that brought a savory side to a sweet dessert and counteracted the sweeter pieces of ginger. As for the super brownie, I might as well have slapped an “S” on it and called it, “my hero”! It consisted of a blondie brownie buried under more brownie bites, whipped cream, chocolate sauce, and candied walnuts. On top of this avalanche of chocotastic flavors and crunchy walnuts, it was slightly warm that left me in a food coma and drifting off to dreamland.

While many diners have raved about Knife and Tine on Yelp and Urbanspoon, I honestly don’t know if we were eating at the same place. Based on my experience and Amy Cavanaugh of Time Out Chicago’s, don’t go to Knife and Tine unless you like overpriced and salty food.

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Posted in American Cuisine and tagged American, bacon, beef, bread, cheese, chicken, cream, dumplings, Restaurant Week, salt. Bookmark the permalink.

Little Bucharest: All the Meat That’s Fit to Eat!

Posted on October 14, 2014 by Mark T

Romania. A linguistic anomaly in Eastern Europe along with mostly being known for gypsies and the Prince of the Night, Dracula. However, a trip to Romania back when I was studying in Spain left me with a different impression of the nation. It was a bit off the beaten path in terms of the tourist trails of Europe, but it had plenty of character, friendly people, and great food. So, when my girlfriend said that she had a Groupon for a Romanian eatery in Chicago called Little Bucharest, I was more than excited.

It was a cold and rainy night, similar to the weather I experienced while traveling between Bucharest and Sighisoara, so I was having a serious case of deja vu minus the feral dogs running around in the street and the airport. It had a charming exterior with a patio that obviously wasn’t being used that night along with a fountain. Upon setting foot in the establishment, we were warmly welcomed by the staff and led quickly to a table. The cheerful music and clean interior put me at ease since other Eastern European restaurants are a bit more rustic in terms of their setup. To drink, Janice got a sweet red Romanian wine, and I got a beer from Timisoara. It seems the alcohol content was a bit much for her along with its sugary aftertaste, but it was still enjoyable. As for my beer, it was a light lager that could be comparable to Heineken. We also destroyed a basket of fresh baked bread that wasn’t warm, but they said they baked it in the morning. This definitely showed in the overall quality of the sliced loaf. It was chewy but slightly crispy on the outside while the inside was fluffy and white. We demolished it so fast that the owner came over to say that our healthy appetites for his bread were quite the compliment. For our appetizer, we got an order of the Mititei ($10). These little sausages were served with a side of salad, fried polenta, and mustard. These chubby meat nuggets were quite heavenly and juicy with a heavy emphasis on the garlic, and it seemed to have more beef than pork in the meat blend that jived well with the sour mustard. The fried polenta (corn meal) was warm but not piping hot. It also had an enjoyable butter flavor that had overtones of French fries. As for our entrees, Janice got the sarmale ($18) and I got the chicken paprikash ($20). The sarmale are similar to Poland’s golabki or stuffed cabbage rolls. These wee bundles were stewed in tomato sauce which led the cabbage to be extra soft but firm enough to keep all of the pork, ground beef, and rice from bursting forth. It was a bit more sour than the Polish version of the dish, but it still had the Slavic heartiness common to both meals. As for my meal, the chicken paprikash was essentially half a chicken in a paprika infused gravy along with green beans and pearl onions. The sauce was the boss for this dish, and the chicken was falling off the bone. Beware of the small bones in the chicken though! For both the sarmale and chicken paprikash, there was mamaliga or soft polenta served on the side. This was my favorite food I tried in Romania, and it was like going into a culinary time machine for me from the first bite. From the smooth, golden polenta to the cool sour cream and strong Feta cheese, I was in heaven. The only differences between Little Bucharest and the real Bucharest was that the mamaliga in the Motherland was served in a bowl and with a fried egg on top. Aside from that, it was the perfect comfort food to combat the terrible weather outside. I couldn’t finish my meal since my stomach was about to burst from all of the polenta and grilled meats, but I didn’t feel bloated like I did with other meals where I ate a lot. At the end of the meal, we were walking out, and the owner wished us well and told us to check them out on Facebook. I then told him that I write a food blog, and he was so overjoyed that he hugged me and gave me a bottle of Romanian dry red wine on the spot. I’ve never experienced such generosity from a restaurant in Chicago or perhaps anywhere else in the world. Thanks, Branko!

So in closing, we walked away from Little Bucharest greatly satisfied with the friendly service, great prices for huge portions of delicious Romanian fare, and a memory of one of my many distant travels around the world. This is the real deal if you want to try Romanian food, and they even run their own limo service if you want to experience it in style.

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Posted in Alcoholic, Beer, Beverages, European Cuisine, Romanian, Romanian and tagged beef, bread, Bucharest, cabbage, cheese, chicken, paprika, polenta, pork, restaurant, Reviews, rice, Romania, sarmale, wine. Bookmark the permalink.

Throwback Post: Rooster Comb Fake Out and Goulash in Hungary

Posted on July 28, 2014 by Mark T

What better place for I, a traveling gourmand, to travel to than Hungary. Not only is the name fitting for my perpetual state of being, but this land of the Mighty Magyars and a tongue twisting language proved to be quite interesting when Kevin and I explored Budapest during Spring Break in 2009. It was one of a couple stops during our trek throughout Eastern Europe, but it started off with a bang the first night Kevin and I went out for dinner at For Sale Pub and Restaurant.

While the outside seemed relatively normal, that concept was quickly thrown out the window as soon as we waltzed in. The inside seemed like a peasant’s house complete with hay on the floor and a rustic wooden interior. We scaled the staircase to find a room whose walls seemed to be decorated by Office Max with all of the random pieces of white paper. Upon closer inspection, each leaf had a message on it. They ranged from the basic salutation to fellow diners to letters to loved ones to random curse words in various languages. Oh freedom of speech! We got menus and a free basket of peanuts from our waiter while Tupac’s “California Love” bumped over the speakers. Thankfully the For Sale doesn’t put on any airs since we could throw the peanut shells on the floor. Looking over the menu, they served numerous types of Hungarian specialties including the signature goulash along with some other more mysterious selections that caught my eye like the gipsy roast. I asked our waiter what exactly the roast consisted of, and he just said “meat”…goody.

When it came out, along with our goulash, it looked not too bad. I didn’t take a picture of it, but I found an adequate representative of it online. It seemed like a few slices of steak that were rubbed with some salt, pepper, and garlic. The meat itself was quite succulent and juicy. These wandering social outcasts do know good food. As for the potatoes, they were just boiled. However, the parsley gave them an herbal scent that enticed my nose and palate. The final piece of the plate I couldn’t really tell what it was. I asked our friendly waiter what exactly it was, and he said, “Rooster” while pointing to his head. I took it to meant that it was a fried rooster comb, a.k.a. the red junk on top of the rooster’s head. It was crispy yet slightly chewy with a definite bacon flavor. After doing a bit of research, turns out our English impaired waiter took me for a ride. After doing a bit of research and seeing this gipsy roast preparation video, I discovered what I ate was actually bacon, not rooster a rooster comb. What he meant to say was it was bacon cut in rooster comb style. The goulash, however, was the highlight of the meal. Apparently, the name goulash comes from the Hungarian for “gulyás” or “herd of cattle” since the Hungarian plain was a huge cattle raising area. Therefore, the herdsmen would always have some cattle to slaughter along the way in order to make their goulash. The For Sale Pub’s soup was filled with plenty of slightly spicy and hellishly red paprika which originally came from the Turks who invaded Buda in 1529. As for the contents, it was simple yet hearty fare with bobbing beef chunks, potatoes, onions, and peppers.

While I was crestfallen to find out that I didn’t unknowingly eat a bizarre food, the national dish of Hungary, goulash, definitely made up for it. It was one of many memorable moments as I traveled through Budapest with Kevin and his girlfriend. If you can’t find anything else to eat, Budapest has plenty of delicious, handmade pretzels in their public parks and blood orange, or as they put it “Spanish flavor”, flavored Fanta. I guarantee satisfaction!

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Posted in European Cuisine, Hungarian and tagged beef, Budapest, gipsy, goulash, hearty, Hungary, paprika, pepper, pretzel, Pub, roast, spicy. Bookmark the permalink.

Pole Position

Posted on July 22, 2014 by Mark T

Welcome to another edition of Mastication Monologues! I just keep on chugging along on here churning out one great review after another. In fact, I just recently passed my 200th post on my blog, so if this is your first time coming to my page, check it out here. It showcases the variety of cultures and native dishes I’ve sampled throughout the years and my travels. I hope you enjoy it. Today’s post hits a little closer to home culturally since I’m going to be talking about Polish food.

Chicago occupies a special place in Polish history given that it has long been a hub for Polish immigrants coming to America due to the need for cheap labor in the Union Stockyards starting in the latter half of the 19th Century. So many immigrants ended up coming to my hometown that it now has more people of Polish descent than the Polish capital of Warsaw.

The Pope approves this message

I am one of those people of Polish descent, and my family enjoys many aspects of the culture from the music to the food. I’ve been trying to learn more Polish, but I have a long way to go to master the extremely difficult language that seems to be an alphabet soup with special vowels and an avalanche of consonants rammed together. However, it doesn’t take much to love the cuisine. I can only describe it as a mix between German and Russian food with some Polish ingenuity and heartiness to endure very hard times. Typically, my family and I enjoy classic Polish dishes like pierogis, kielbasa, kapusta, and kolaczki at family celebrations, and I’ve visited some great Polish restaurants in my grandparents’ neighborhood by Midway Airport. However, they seemingly can never make (insert food here) as well as babcia (grandmother), but I recently visited a Polish restaurant that made it feel like you’re sitting in your babcia’s kitchen. The place in question is called Podhalanka located in the Polish Triangle area on Division.

The outside looks more like a place you’d come to get keys made than a restaurant. My girlfriend had never been to a Polish restaurant, so I was honored to bring her somewhere to get a taste of my culture. We walked through the door to find a spartan interior that had a bar and plenty of long tables covered in plastic, Kmart tablecloths. In typical Polish fashion, there was no inanely grinning hostess at the front to greet us. Instead, there was a gruff looking woman in an apron who mumbled something when we walked in. We then scanned each other to see if she spoke English and I Polish. I just said “Table for two”, and we had our pick of seats. She gave us menus slower than other customers for some reason. Looking over the selection, I could tell that this stuff was no-frills and just like what I saw in the motherland when I visited Krakow. While I wanted to go for my comfort zone with a dish like gołąbki (literally: pidgeons, really stuffed pork cabbage rolls) or kotlet schabowy (breaded pork cutlet), I knew I had to get the zurek (white borscht) ($3.80) and sztuka miesa w sosie chrzanowym (boiled beef with horseradish sauce) ($10.50). The curmudgeon of a woman who greeted us at the door, who I assumed was the owner, took our orders quite quickly. Janice ordered her food, the pieczen wieprzowa (roast pork) ($10.50), but then the old woman was suddenly aglow when I properly pronounced each of the choices for my order. Looks like I still got skillz. The old woman said ok, and I thanked her in Polish which she appreciated. While we were waiting, I looked at all of the random Polish souvenirs and cultural artifacts referencing various parts of Polish culture like the newly sanctified Karol Wotyla a.k.a. Pope John Paul II, the Polish white eagle, and the black Madonna or Our Lady of Czestochowa. My zurek came out first, and I was pumped. It was a translucent broth punctuated with small bits of dill floating on the surface and large chunks of sausage bobbing in the tasty sea. From the first to the last gulp, I loved this piping hot bowl of goodness. The broth itself was sour and meaty yet tinged with a dill bite I really enjoyed. As for the disks of kielbasa, they were substantial, flavorful, and plentiful throughout the bowl. While I was enjoying this super soup, we also got a basket filled with slices of white rye bread. It was a slice (pun intended) of the restaurants in my grandparents’ neighborhood complete with the little packages of butter. The bread crusts were especially helpful when used to mop up some of the soup. While I was midway through my soup, she brought out a salad complete with the basic vegetables used in 90 percent of Polish recipes bar cabbage and potatoes. It wasn’t anything spectacular with the cucumbers and tomatoes slathered in a semi-sweet dressing and a purple pile of pickled beets on the side, but all of the ingredients were really fresh. My personal favorite were the pickled beets since they were super tangy. Right as we finished the salad, our main entrees finally emerged. Both of our dishes looked similar in the fact that they were large pieces of meat slathered in a gravy or sauce with a side of mashed potatoes. After that, the commonalities ended. Janice’s roast pork didn’t taste like much, but my boiled beef had a life of its own. The beef was extremely tender and thankfully enhanced with the feisty horseradish sauce with a slight sinus-clearing kick in each forkful. Said sauce extended to the mashed potatoes, and I use the term “mashed” in the loosest sense. It was more like semi-clumped potatoes, but like the beef, there were no seasonings to be had here aside from the horseradish sauce. Either way, it was a hearty meal that made me think of home. I’d like to go back there to try some of the pierogi or perhaps some potato pancakes.

I paid the bill, and I saw that I got charged for the soup and salad, but Janice did not for her salad. Perhaps the old lady was kind hearted after all and made my visit complete. So, if you’re on the northside and want to try some great, down-home Polish cooking at reasonable prices, check out Podhalanka. The service might be a bit brusque, but you’ll just have to trust babcia on this one.

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Posted in European Cuisine, Polish and tagged authentic, beef, beets, bread, butter, Chicago, cucumbers, dill, horseradish, kielbasa, mashed, Polish, potatoes, rye, sauce, soup, tomatoes. Bookmark the permalink.

How I Learned to Stop Wondering and Love the Bomb

Posted on June 30, 2014 by Mark T

Ah the sandwich. One of the most simple yet fluid concepts in food. Food has long been enveloped or contained in some sort of bread in various cultures across the world, but the actual word can be traced to 18th century England. Edward Gibbons states that John Montagu, the Earl of Sandwich, would ask for his meat to be between slices of bread, so he could eat with his hands while playing cards and not get the cards dirty. Eventually, people began to ask for their meals, “The same as Sandwich”, and a new word entered the English language. Today, there are a million ways to put one together that range from the classic peanut butter and jelly to the straight up bizarre. Today’s edition of Mastication Monologues features a Mexican twist on the food staple in the form of Cemitas Puebla in Chicago.

This eatery in Humboldt Park has received its fair share of publicity after appearing on the Food Network, PBS’s Check Please, and the Hungry Hound a.k.a. Steve Dolinsky from ABC 7 news. Surprisingly, given that this establishment is located in the heart of Chicago’s Puerto Rican community, it is purely Mexican, specifically from the state of Puebla. The exterior blends into the neighborhood, and the interior is just as simple. I went there around lunch, and it was hopping. The line was moderately long, but the cooks knew how to hustle. Looking over the menu, the cemitas were dominant, but there were other dishes like tacos, enchiladas, chalupas, and quesadillas to name a few. I was determined to see what made these south-of-the-border super sandwiches were made of. I decided to speak in Spanish with the lady at the cash register to maybe get a bit of extra info that the gringos wouldn’t get. I was torn between the pata (cow foot) or the atomica (atomic) cemita, but the lady recommended the atomica because the cow foot wasn’t very popular and lower quality. Taking her word for it, I put down $9 for the atomica cemita and a small agua de jamaica to drink ($1.25).

While waiting for my meal, the cashier got my drink from the back freezer along with a couple of squeeze bottles. She set them down, and I asked about the different salsas in the bottles. While the two clear ones were filled with some sort of red and green sauces, the woman pointed out the bright yellow bottle of sauce would go the best with the cemita. I thanked her for the info started sipping on my drink. Agua de jamaica (literally: water of hibiscus) is a tea that can be served either hot or cold, the latter in this case, and is an infusion of hibiscus flowers and a bit of sugar. It’s a great drink for a hot day with a hint of sweetness in each sip, and it has anti-oxidant properties that can lessen the effects of hypertension. Finally, the star of the show emerged from the grill, and was brought to my table with minimal fanfare. I was taken aback by how large the sandwich was for the price I paid and then pondered how to tackle this monstrosity? The atomica consisted of breaded pieces of milanesa (breaded pork), carne enchilada (chili seasoned meat), and jamon (ham). This meat parade was further accented with adobo chipotle peppers, Oaxacan cheese, and fresh papalo or a green herb used for seasoning. I took my first bite that consisted me of unhinging my jaws like a reticulated python around a baby hippo, and it truly was a weapon of mass deliciousness. The bun was moderately toasted with a generous sprinkling of sesame seeds on top, and it was strong enough throughout the meal to keep these ingredients in check and not on my pants. Each layer of meat moved from strength to strength as the jamon was salty to compliment the milanesa breading while the breading provided a crunchy contrast to the soft carne enchilada. I loved the stretchy Oaxacan cheese that was plentiful along with the chunks of creamy avocado. The papalo was there, but I personally didn’t think it brought much to the table flavor and texture-wise. Once I was acquainted with my new sandwich friend, I decided to try some of the sauces on the table. I began with the recommended cemita sauce, and it was a peppery adobo that had a robust, peppery bite to add a savory dimension to the sandwich. I moved on to the green sauce that had an uncanny resemblance to boogers, but it thankfully didn’t taste the same. I’d liken it to a flavorful tomatillo salsa with hints of cilantro. As for the red sauce in the other clear bottle, it was nothing noteworthy. ‘Twas just another run of the mill tomato based salsa. Much to my dismay, I wasn’t overly stuffed even though the sandwich probably had over 3,000 calories and could choke a horse. It was a simple yet thoroughly satisfying lunch.

So if you want to try a unique piece of Mexico beyond tacos and tamales for a reasonable price, check out Cemitas Puebla.

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Posted in Latin American Cuisine, Mexico and tagged adobo, beef, bread, Chicago, chile, chipotle, ham, Mexico, Oaxaca, papalo, pork, Puebla, salsa, Sandwich, seed, sesame, tomatillo, verde. Bookmark the permalink.

Solid Like a Rock

Posted on June 25, 2014 by Mark T

What says summer more than a barbecue? Burgers, beers, and brats abound as Americans across the country congregate in their backyards around a sizzling grill as our ancestors have done since the beginning of time. While we’ve gone beyond grunting at each other and digging into fresh hunks of mastodon, the love for grilled meats is still going on strong as I found out at Rocks in Lincoln Park.

The previous night we had spent a good time enjoying some bodacious burgers and brews at George Street Pub, so we ended up at Rock’s since they had some delicious brunch options. It didn’t strike me as anything novel in terms of decor or concept upon walking into the establishment though. A high end pub with wood and stone accents that focuses on beer and whiskey…yawn. Since it was already noon, I was in the mood for something a bit more on the lunch end of things. They had a fair bit of appetizers, sweet plates, sandwiches, and burgers (including a four pound burger challenge). Plus, they had a litany of beers along with plenty of whiskeys; hence the name, Rocks, as in the ice cubes. Continuing in the trend of the weekend, I looked over the burgers and tried to find something new and interesting. Enter El Gordo or “The Fat” ($10). I could then choose a side from a mini list of intriguing options, but I went with the Greek fries.

When the burger came out, I was taken aback with how it was presented with all of its toppings bared to the world like a sorority girl at Mardi Gras. I could see the half pound beef patty topped with pepper jack, cheddar, and provolone, three strips of bacon, pieces of onion rings, deep fried pickles, and a coating of spicy 1,000 island dressing. I was having the meat sweats just looking at this mountain of a meal, but I put the pretzel top bun on and got ready to rock. The first bite was quite intense as I cut through the gooey layer of cheese, juicy meat, crispy bacon, and sour layers of fried vegetables. I personally thought they were gilding the rose though with this burger. While I’d recommend it to anyone, it seemed like a bit too much was going on in regard to the flavor profile. The pickles overwhelmed a lot of the flavors including the supposedly spicy 1000 island sauce. Thankfully, the pretzel bun managed to keep all of the contents between my fingers, and I’ve found the pretzel bun to be the sturdiest variety of bread utilized in burger construction. Good old fashioned German food engineering at work. What I was more entertained with were the Greek fries. While they were similar to some taters I’ve tasted in Oregon, they were a Hellenic treat complete with actual chunks of seasoned Feta cheese. I’m loco about my queso, and these fries fit the bill. The creamy and crumbly pieces of goat cheese were pungent and transported the oregano coated potatoes to a cut above the rest.

So if you’re looking for another bar that serves ridiculous burgers alongside brunch items with a touch of class, roll on over to Rocks!

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Posted in American Cuisine, Barbecue, Burgers, Chicken Wings, Comfort Food and tagged bacon, Bar, beef, bread, Burger, cheese, Chicago, dressing, French, Fries, grill, hot, onions, spicy. Bookmark the permalink.

Raising the Bar

Posted on June 15, 2014 by Mark T

Bars are normally just known as watering holes for groups of friends on the town or creepers trying to cruise for some ladies (all dependent on what part of town you’re in, of course). Their drink selections can range from the mundane to the most elaborate with the rise of microbreweries and the sudden rise of professional mixologists, a.k.a. hipster bartenders. However, it’s not often that people associate fresh and/or gourmet food with bar food. True, it may be delicious, deep fried, and coated/stuffed/infused with many different types of cheese but nothing for more elegant palates. This was the case with Jimmy’s Grill in downtown Naperville.

Originally, Jimmy’s was your more typical waterhole that was the starting point of the night with a couple drinks before going to some of the more dance-centric establishments. The food? Just burgers, fries, nachos, and more fried foods up the wazoo.

Meh

These guilty pleasures were of average quality and served more as a lining for your stomach for the bender to come rather than a culinary experience. However, I recently visited it for the first time since coming back from Korea. Not only do they have a new logo and color scheme, but according to the menu, they have a new chef in the form of Travis Rodriguez and new management. Looking over the menu, I could see that they really upheld their pledge to utilize, “house braised, grass fed meats, free range chicken, fresh seafood, and baked goods.” I mean hummus? tartare? asparagus? Talk about the transformation of the ugly duckling. After much deliberation, I decided to get the Cubano sandwich ($11) which came with a free side of vinegar chips, salad, or fries. I went with the last option. My dad got the Picasso burger with Swiss cheese on top ($11), and my mom got the pulled pork sandwich ($11).

After a good amount of time taking in the new environs and checking out their ginormous tvs on the patio, they brought out our meals. My Cuban sandwich looked great and tasted even better. Not only did it have the signature grill marks thanks to the panini-esque grill called the plancha, but I could see all of the key ingredients that have made the Cuban sandwich a Miami staple since the early 1960s when Cuban refugees fled Castro’s Commie paradise. From the first bite, I was hooked. The bread was light, crispy, and chewy and gave way to a one-two punch of juicy pork loin and a hefty layer of succulent ham slices. Next came the melted Swiss cheese that gave the sandwich a slightly nutty yet mellow flavor that served as a contrast to the sour pickle slices and tart yellow mustard drizzled over all of the bread. They didn’t spare any expense with any of the ingredients which led to a meal packed with plenty of sassy Latino flavor to the last cheesy bite. The French fries were expertly fried and very lightly salted which scored major points with me. Moving on from there, I luckily was able to steal a nibble from my mom’s barbecue pulled pork sandwich that came with a side of apple jicama slaw and onion rings. The pork was messy yet heavenly with the sweet sauce that coated every strand, and the onion rings were perfect in terms of breading composition and onion stability within the crunchy shell. I didn’t get to try my dad’s burger since I didn’t fancy a ruptured stomach, but he took it down like a champ. Ergo, I’d only assume it was delicious. I did try the vinegar potato chips on the side, and they were crispy yet oh so sour with plenty of white vinegar bite.

Overall, I’d highly recommend checking the newly improved Jimmy’s Grill. Not only is the food delicious but also nutritious for a reasonable price.

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Posted in American Cuisine, Barbecue, Burgers, Comfort Food and tagged beef, bread, Burger, cheese, Chicagoland, dining, Food, French, fried, Fries, hamburger, restaurant, Reviews, Sandwich. Bookmark the permalink.

Sea It to Believe It

Posted on June 9, 2014 by Mark T

What’s up, foodie adventures! Welcome to another edition of Mastication Monologues! I know it has been too long between posts, and I really do apologize. However, summertime in Chicago can make a man very busy, busy but very hungry. Naturally, my stomach loves to roam from country to country, but somehow it always manages to roll south of the border to get that sweet sweet Mexican food. Luckily the Chicagoland area has plenty to offer in terms of Latino cuisine, and Casa Margarita in La Grange is a competent, but not extraordinary, representative of tex-mex cooking.

I’ve had my fair share of Mexican food whether that be in the form of enchiladas or tacos at better restaurants, but Casa Margarita is a middle of the road establishment overall when it comes to la comida mexicana. It has both indoor and outdoor seating which served us perfectly on the beautiful evening we visited Casa Margarita. While it allowed us to people watch and make friends with plenty of meandering poochies, that was also the downside since they crowded too many tables on the sidewalk. Plus, their round tables didn’t allow for my mom, dad, and I to sit comfortably. It would be a better experience if they utilized square tables. While sitting down at the table, we also noticed that it was taking quite awhile to bus off our table. My mom noted the “Help wanted” sign in the window, so that explained everything. Luckily our waitress was a superwoman who seemed to be doing ten different things at once while still being quite cheerful. Perhaps it was the delirium of running all over the place though. Either way, she made up for the shorthanded staff by hustling and starting us with the typical complimentary basket of tortilla chips. They thankfully weren’t super salty, and the salsa was more of a smoky, peppery salsa that was a welcome change from the typically bland, tomato salsas provided with the Latino version of the bread basket. They had a full drink menu including wines, beers, non-alcoholic beverages, and surprise surprise, margaritas! I started with a Pacifico beer ($5) since I was in the mood for a lighter beer. This Mazatalan brew was a clear but uninspired lager that was jazzed up with a spritz of lime juice. The Mexicans aren’t exactly known for their beer culture beyond the uber-popular (personally, I think gross) Coronas, and the Pacifico was a pedestrian compliment to my main platter. Their menu is extensive complete with appetizers, soups, seafood, chicken dishes, beef platters, fajitas, and tacos to name a few sections. I went with the fish tacos ($8.50). Why fish tacos? Well, I’ve heard many good things about them, and I’m all about trying new foods. I’m not the biggest seafood guy, but I decided to make the plunge. Before I began my deep-sea culinary adventure, our waitress came out with mini-bowls of chicken soup. Overall, I was more of a fan of the broth than the ingredients since the “chicken” seemed like an odd intermediary between tuna and chicken. I know the former is known as the latter of the sea, but I’d prefer my meat to taste like what its advertised as. When they came out, the tacos looked quite delicious, and this book’s cover adequately represented what was under the surface. While the tortillas weren’t as corn-laden as I expected, they were light and strong enough to keep in all of the delicious flavors. The plentiful pieces of grilled Tilapia were buried underneath a refreshing, tangy pico de gallo and a drizzling of a slightly spicy guacamole sauce. Taken all together, the fish gave the taco plenty of body with a clean flavor that was further embellished by the aforementioned latin elements. I requested some hot sauce to jazz up the tacos and satisfy my need to feel a kick in the old tastebuds. They indulged me with two of my favorite hot sauces. The red Tapatio (Spanish for someone from Guadalajara in the state of Jalisco in Mexico) sauce is moderately spicy with a slightly more sour flavor compared to the fiery Yucateco sauce. This verdant sauce from the Yucatan Peninsula in Mexico ratchets up the Scoville units with that hellish heat synonymous with habanero peppers. While they’re not like the ulcer-inducing fritters I tried at Salvador Molly’s, it will drop a lighter on your tongue and walk away while putting on its sunglasses and listening to your tastebuds exploding in a ball of flame. These two condiments took this plate to another level. I also used them to enhance the dry Mexican rice on the side and the dreary refried beans. I also tried a bit of my mom’s shredded beef enchiladas. While I’m more of a fan of cheese enchiladas, these juicy beef strings were quite succulent. By the end, I was stuffed and satisfied with my mouth-watering tacos and topped off the night with a visit to my friend in the neighborhood, Truffles the bear at the Rocky Mountain Chocolate Factory.

As I said at the beginning of the post, there are plenty of better Mexican restaurants in the Chicagoland area, but if you’re in the La Grange area, you might as well try Casa Margarita’s fish tacos.

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Posted in Latin American Cuisine, Mexico and tagged beef, Beer, enchiladas, fish, lager, Margarita, Mexican, pico de gallo, salsa, spicy, tacos. Bookmark the permalink.

In the Garden of Eatin’

Posted on May 24, 2014 by Mark T

“What’s beef? Beef is when you make your enemies start your Jeep
Beef is when you roll no less than thirty deep
Beef is when I see you guaranteed to be a ICU, check it”
-Notorious B.I.G.

While my gangster friend, Biggie, had other ideas about what “beef” meant to him in a serious context, today’s Mastication Monologues post is much more lighthearted. While I could be considered a culinary hitman who is hired for his discerning palate and ruthless ability to deal with difficult dining experiences, I was working pro-buona at this latest establishment, Buona Beef that is.

While Philly has their cheesesteak and NYC has their monstrous pastrami sammiches, Chicago’s sandwich is one that was born out of poverty. When Italian immigrants used to work in the Union stockyards of Chicago, they would bring home the lower quality, tougher pieces of meat. So what would be the easiest way to stretch these meager resources for a meal? Easy. First, they wet roasted it in a beef broth seasoned with garlic, oregano, and other spices. Then, they’d slice the meat extra thin to feed the most amount of mouths with the least waste possible. These paper-thin pieces of meat were thrown back into the broth to soak up all of the flavor from the roasting period for maximum deliciousness. From there, the Italian immigrants put the beef on Italian bread loaves, and thus the Chicago Italian beef sandwich was born. While the times and customers have changed, the cooking process has stayed the same. Enter Buona Beef. This franchise started back in 1981 by the Buonavolanto family who brought Neopolitan family recipes to the mainland and brought them to the American public. Buona Beefs can be found all throughout the Chicagoland area but nowhere else in America. I went with my parents to the location in Darien, IL, and it was a pleasant dining experience. The service was quick, and the prices are reasonable. The menu ranges from pizza, salads, pasta, and of course, da beef sandwiches! I got the regular 7″ sandwich ($5.50), but they also have piccolo (small) and maggiore (large) sizes. While most sandwich restaurants ask if you want everything on it, ordering an Italian beef sandwich could almost sound like a script Ron Jeremy could read. One can be asked if they want it juicy/dipped (dipped in the beef broth), dry (sans broth), hot (with hot giardiniera on top), or sweet (with sweet peppers on top). While my mom went for the more subdued sweet, dipped sandwich, I kicked it up a notch by getting a hot dip. This is definitely where I parked my car. While Buona Beef offers various desserts like cannoli, brownies, gelato, and lemon knots, I knew I had to try their new maple bacon shake ($3.25) which apparently diners have been scared to try. Since I was the first to do so, the manager was overjoyed that I ordered it. With our orders in, we took our number, and waited for them to bring us our food.

After a brief wait, our sandwiches came out along with the shakes. I hadn’t had one of these bad boys since coming back to America, and when I laid my eyes on it, I could remember why I missed this small, meat-laden piece of home. While I prefer the spicy over the mild, my mom’s sandwich still looked pretty good. I think they could have given her more of the roasted, sweet peppers though. As for my sandwich, it was a thing of absolute beauty. The bread was fresh yet glistening slightly with the juice of its beefy bathtub in the back. Plus, the vegetables, or giardiniera (jar-din-air, Chicago pronunciation), looked fantastic. Giardiniera means comes from the word in Italian for “garden” but actually means “pickled vegetables”. That’s why the version in Italy is called “sotto aceti” or “under vinegar”. However, there are slightly different takes on giardiniera depending on where you are. The West Coast version is closer to its Italian roots with just using vinegar, but here in Chicago we use olive oil. I’ve asked friends from across the US if they’ve heard of giardiniera, but it seems to be chiefly a Chicago thang. Typically, one can find a cornucopia of vegetables in the mild or spicy oil such as carrots, celery, olives, pimentos, cauliflower, and bell peppers. Everyone has their own favorite blend and brand like Greco’s for me. Even though they’re soaking in oil, the vegetables still maintain their crispy texture. compliments of the pickling process. After appreciating the beefy Botticelli in front of me, I finally took the first bite. Not only is the Italian beef sandwich unique in terms of ingredients and being a culinary representative of Chicago, but one must eat it in a certain way known as “the stance”. I’ll let the owner of Al’s beef, the mothership of Italian beef sandwiches in Chicago since 1938 in Little Italy, and Adam Richman explain it. Much like Mr. Richman, I was overwhelmed by the soft, juicy bread that encased the delicate pieces of garlic and oregano-laced beef. The giardiniera provided a much needed crunch and spice to offset the soggy sandwich. Naturally, my basket by the end of the meal looked like a sloppy slip-n’-slide, but it hit the spot. As for my shake, it was thick and topped with a few morsels of bacon. Upon sipping the ivory-hued beverage, I was immediately greeted with a wave of excruciatingly sweet maple flavor that dominated the shake for the most part until I reached the latter half.Once I finally dove deep enough, I could find and sample the crispy creatures hiding beneath the whipped cream. The smoky and salty flavor of the bacon combined well with the sweetness of the maple riffs, but it proved to be a bit overwhelming as I sampled the dregs. By the end, I feel like I drank a bottle of sugar syrup which didn’t settle well with me. I think if Buona Beef lightened up on the syrup and evenly distributed the bacon in a smaller portion size, they’d have a real hit on their hands.

So if you want to try a unique piece of Chicago’s culinary history without having to make the trek downtown to Little Italy, try Buona Beef!

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Posted in European Cuisine, Italian and tagged bacon, beef, Chicago, Chicagoland, drink, giardiniera, Italian, juicy, maple, shake, spicy, sweet. Bookmark the permalink.

I’ve Seen and Eaten Things, Man…Delicious Things

Posted on May 21, 2014 by Mark T

Goooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooood morning, Mastication Monologues readers! Today’s post deals with a country’s cuisine that I have over the years become more acquainted with due to the increased prevalence of said eateries in the Chicagoland area and throughout the world. While Japanese and Chinese food are the two most popular forms of Asian cuisine in America, Southeast Asia, specifically Thai and Vietnamese food, has thrown its hat into the ring with some wonderful dishes. While I do like my Thai food as shown on my blog, today’s restaurant is a cozy Vietnamese place called Nha Hang Viet Nam in Chicago.

As I said before, Vietnamese food has quickly grown into the ever-expanding and shifting profile of the American culinary landscape. Some of the key dishes that have assisted this jump in popularity include Gỏi cuốn or spring rolls and the banh mi sandwiches which could be considered one of the original forms of Asian fusion. At Nha Hang Viet Nam, I expected that they would have these, but anything else would be a mystery to me. The outside of the restaurant blended in with the rest of the Little Saigon area around Argyle, and yet seemed a bit like a place that they would hold a scene from the Deer Hunter at due to the bars on some the windows. The shady exterior gave way to a welcoming interior that was almost like walking into a family’s kitchen it was that small. Not only did the size add to the intimacy of the establishment, but the family was all sitting at one big table waiting to serve us. We had the place to ourselves essentially aside from another Vietnamese couple. Upon going over the menu, I had no clue where to start as they had everything from the aforementioned spring rolls and sandwiches along with soups, noodles, vermicelli, fried rice, various meats (fish, pork, beef), and desserts. While I was pouring over the vast menu, I found an item on the drink menu that caught my eye: fresh pennyworth juice ($3.50). What is pennyworth juice? No, it doesn’t cost a penny (although it probably would in Vietnam), but it has been used in Indian, Chinese, and African traditional medicine. In Vietnamese, it’s called rau má or “mother vegetable”, and I’m not quite sure what sort of motherly comforts this drink brought to me during my meal. When it came out, it looked like something from one of the recent body detox diets. Not only was it frothy, but it had a deep verdant hue that intrigued me. While I’ve had good luck picking random drinks of menus in Jamaican and Cuban restaurants, I wasn’t quite sure if I won the grand prize with this drink. I appreciated how cold it was compliments of the ice, but the taste was complex and semi-indescribable. It had some grassy notes yet a herbal, semi-spicy after taste that could be likened to cilantro almost. It was a glass of funk that set the stage for my appetizer: the bánh xèo or “sizzling cake” ($7.95). Our waiter was incredulous that I ordered it just for myself since he said it was for two people, and he was right in terms of the size. However, he never met someone like me with a Cookie Monster appetite when hungry. As I started down at the large yellow pancake, I wondered how to eat it since it had a plethora of mint leaves, cilantro leaves, and lettuce leaves on the side. Our waiter then explained that I could cut a piece of the pancake, wrap it up in a lettuce leaf, and then dip it in the fish sauce on the side, similar to the ssam bap I tried in Korea. The pancake itself was made of rice flour and tumeric, and then on the inside there were plenty of bean sprouts, shrimp, and pork. I tried a piece of it by itself, and it was a rich, buttery, fried piece of heaven that only got better when dipped in the thin, sweet fish sauce. Slowly but surely, I completed my search and destroy mission against the pancake that was as big as my face. When the dust settled, my main entree, the com bo nuong or steamed rice with grilled beef, came out. It came with a delicious, salty miso that had bits of cilantro floating on the surface and rings of green scallion bobbing about the bowl. As for the dish, the beef was savory and juicy. I pumped it up a notch with some red chili sauce to satisfy my love for spicy food. The mysterious part of the meal was the noodles on the side. While I could ascertain that they were indeed noodles, I couldn’t tell what type of meat was lurking between the strands, perhaps tripe. It was also a mostly dry side with a generous dusting of some type of powder that I guessed could possibly be dried mung bean or soy beans. It wasn’t the highlight of the meal, but I wasn’t complaining at that point.