Tag Archives: Chicagoland

Going Out With A Bang

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‘Ello everyone!  Welcome to another edition of Mastication Monologues.  I am currently writing this while rocking a food baby to sleep on this cold November evening.  Even though I may have had a bit of a rough day today, I still managed to have a dinner that chased away the blues and the cool weather.  I ended up going out to a British gastropub called Chequers located at 100 West Burlington Avenue  La Grange, IL 60525.

At first I had looked up some reviews on Yelp to see what exactly I should expect from this restaurant, and I did not see many good comments.  Now, I did take these reviews with a grain of salt since some foodies out there are quite demanding of establishments, and the British aren’t known for their culinary prowess.  However, I was pleasantly surprised.  Upon walking through the doors, I was greeted with a beefeater cutout and plenty of kitschy 19th century pictures of England and advertisements for travel, beer, and stereopticons(well, maybe not that last one).  The service was very prompt, and the actual interior was quite cozy for a winter night.  To drink, I went with a Blue Moon Harvest Pumpkin Ale since it was on special, and I do love my pumpkin flavored items aside from the pumpkin lattes or whatever they are at Starbucks.

A fine brew for a bite

I know I’m going to get a lot of hate mail from that statement, but c’est la vie.  Anyway, the actual beer was quite tasty.  It had an orange amber hue that embodied a light, spicy flavor with a slight pumpkin aftertaste with every sip.  It provided a classy undertone to the overtures of our larger than life appetizers:  onion rings and Welsh rarebit.

Appetizers fit for Godzilla

The former was pretty straight forward in terms of presentation since there are only so many ways one can cut up onions and fry them.  However, these rings were literally big enough to be worn as bracelets.  Even though these monstrous rings could serve as earrings for Shaq, their taste was equally large.  The breading was crisp and buttery and thankfully not very greasy.  The accompanying sauce was a tasty spicy ranch with a horseradish and black pepper foundation.  With the latter appetizer, the Welsh rarebit, I have always wondered of what it consisted?  For the longest time, I would think that it involved rabbit meat in some form since “rarebit” looks similar when glanced at very quickly.  However, I would cross off another food on my bucket list since I found out that it is the rough English equivalent of fondue sans the forks and mini-pot of cheese.  Instead, it is a small casserole dish of melted Cotswold cheese (the very same that people chase in the Cotswold Games), stout, mustard, and Cayenne pepper.  This spread was then supposed to be eaten on the toast points provided with the dish, and the bread was a wheat rye that was nicely toasted.  The melted cheese was quite smooth and savory, akin to a Gouda, while I could taste the hearty stout mingling with the semi-sweet mustard.  ‘Twas good to say that I had it, but I don’t know if I would get it again.

Shhh! Don’t wake the sausages

Once we managed to somehow destroy these two appetizers (it was mainly me), I got down to business with my main dish:  bangers and mash.  Now I know that there are certain Britishisms that make Americans go tee-hee, i.e. fags, bangers, and rubbers (translations:  cigarettes, sausages, and erasers), but this meal made my stomach go tee-hee with how delicious it was.  First, the sausages were roasted in a stone ground mustard sauce that still had the seeds in it which was a nice rustic touch.  Its semi-sweet/acidic yellow mustard taste complimented the pork based sausage perfectly.  As for the sides, the mash was smoother than Cool Whip and somehow incredibly buttertastic without having an entire irrigation system of Land O’ Lakes extending slowly across my plate.  The steamed vegetables were pretty pedestrian, but they were adequately prepared.  It was a hodgepodge of cauliflower, broccoli, zucchini, and carrots.

By the time we finished, the pumpkin bread pudding for dessert was a long way away in my mind.  I had bigger problems to deal with like attempting to maintain consciousness on the border of a food coma.  So if you’re looking for a slice of jolly old England with an American twist in regard to portion sizes, cheque out Chequers!

Chequers on Urbanspoon

Chequers of Lagrange on Foodio54

The Fattest Steak in the West

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Howdy, y’all!!  Welcome to another edition of Mastication Monologues.  Today I bring you an entry that truly lives up to its culinary heritage and more.  This week I went to Longhorn Steakhouse out in the Chicago suburbs located at 708 North Janes Avenue  Bolingbrook, IL 60440.

Roy Rogers’ home away from home

I didn’t really have much of an opinion of this restaurant before visiting it due to the fact that the number of steakhouses we have in Chicago/the Chicagoland area is simply a reflection of our long-term infatuation with the perfect slice of meat.  At one point, Chi-town was known more colorfully as the “Butcher for the World” where according to the Chicago Tribune, “At the (stock)yards’ peak in 1924, more than 18.6 million cattle, hogs and sheep passed through that labyrinth.”  However, even though our abattoirs have long left the city limits, Longhorn Steakhouse is an homage to meat, Texas-style.  Upon walking into the door, I felt like I walked into Rattlesnakes steakhouse on King of the Hill.  There was plenty of country music pumping through the sound system and half a head of cattle festooning the walls alongside beautiful landscape oil paintings of Texas.  While our waiter mumbled his way through a standard greeting, he supplied us with a complimentary bread basket.  It seemed to be a wheat, possibly honey wheat, boule that was pre-sliced and served with butter.  I wished they’d give us warmer butter than the cold sphere nestled in its black cup, but the hot bread melted it in a jiffy.  For my main meal, I ordered the Parmesan crusted chicken which came with a side salad and a side.

This is your heart on cholesterol

The salad was pretty tasty especially since they had chipotle ranch.  It added a great zing to a classic dressing, and the greens were a mix of lettuce, purple cabbage, kale, and peppers.  I’m not a huge crouton fan, so I was somewhat annoyed with their prodigious numbers inhabiting the bowl.  I think I already had my fill of bread with the aforementioned basket, thank you.  Anyway, when my main course came out, I was definitely intimidated.  The common phrase about Texas is that everything’s bigger, and this plate was no different.  Instead of tucking into the chicken straight away, I decided to sample a bit of the mashed potatoes first.  I’m surprised they weren’t rocking a questionable haircut and an Armani suit because they were richer than Donald Trump.  The texture was creamy yet maintained some tasty chunks of potato, and butter cascaded down these gentle white slopes.  As for the chicken, it made my heart race…for the wrong reason.  From the very first mouthful, I could not get over the intensely rich Parmesan crust and cheese sauce which blotted out any trace of the chicken.  However, the actual chicken was quite tender even though it tasted like I was gnawing on a block of cheese.  If you have high cholesterol, avoid this dish, and if you don’t and really really love the taste of cheese, only then I’d recommend this meal.  Next time, I’d probably just get a lean steak to avoid this fatty conundrum.

So if you’re looking for a small piece of stereotypical Texas, mosey on down to Longhorn Steakhouse.  Happy Trails!

Longhorn Steakhouse on Urbanspoon

LongHorn Steakhouse on Foodio54

“Non, je ne regrette rien”

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Hello to all out there in the blogosphere!  I have just returned from my recent food adventure for my dad’s bday (happy 59th, big guy!) at a local French eatery which I have been to multiple times before but have never written about its delectable Gallic delights.  The restaurant in question is  called Mon Ami Gabi and is located at 260 Oakbrook Center
Oak Brook, IL 60523 in the mall.

Now I have been to France before, and obviously it is kind of hard to recreate that sort of European ambiance in the Midwest.  However, Mon Ami Gabi manages to do a pretty good job at bringing its patrons a different type of eating experience with its rich, dark wood laden interiors, soft lighting, and an intimate patio which would be the perfect setting for any date night.   These elegant surroundings are just one plus of Mon Ami Gabi, and the food is no different.

Simple happiness: bread and butter

For our dinner, we received a complementary mini-baguette with a side of creamy butter and relish.  I don’t know if they make their own bread at the establishment, but it still was very tasty.  The crunchy crust was lightly coated with flour, and the white inside was still slightly warm and pliant which made the butter seep into every square inch of the baguette. As for the relish, as soon as I took a bite I knew that it was made of julienned  green apples due to its tartness and the general appearance of the side, but there was a slight herbal aftertaste to it that I couldn’t put my finger on.  Thankfully our helpful waitress informed me it was fennel of all things. After finally deciding on an appetizer, we went with the baked goat cheese and tomato sauce.  When it came to our table, I wasn’t too happy with the presentation of it because we have ordered it before, and it was served with mini pieces of toast coated in a garlic/pesto mixture.  This time around, the bread element of the dish came as a whole baguette sliced lengthwise which led us to resorting to ripping the bread apart like a bunch of Cro-Magnons.  I don’t know why they changed it from small pieces of bread, but I feel that it is a choice of convenience by the chefs.  Nevertheless, the actual goat cheese was delectable with its creamy texture melding with the smooth tomato sauce to create a warm mousse that provided a somber yin to the more aggressive yang of the garlic/pesto coated bread.

From this tasty beginning, I moved on to the main star of the dinner:  the steak.  I plumped for the steak au poirve  (or pepper steak) with the hand cut house frites.  The meat was grilled exactly to my request with a solid brown hue throughout and a slight pink inside.  The peppercorns were quite potent and supplied the thin gravy with a much needed kick to highlight the high quality texture and rich meaty flavor of the steak.

I’m a meat and potatoes kind of guy

As for the frites, I didn’t eat all of them since I was saving room for dessert, but from the few that I actually did try, they were not like regular french fries at any restaurant.  They looked like shoestring potatoes on steroids with a bit of a curl from Arby’s curly fries, and the actual body had the consistency of a normal French fry.  They were not over or under fried, and the insides were white and fluffy.

The end of this three ring circus culminated with the highly decadent vanilla bread pudding.  Not only was it infused with minced vanilla beans which dotted its borders like black spots on an ermine cape, but also like Louis XIV it was adorned with an over-sized crown of vanilla ice-cream and chains of golden caramel.

*Drool*. That is all

Its flavors lived up to its regal appearance as the pudding was slightly firm and warm which formed a divine pairing with the slightly melted vanilla ice cream and caramel.  Even though I ate all of this food and finished off the meal with a flourish, I was not stuffed which also speaks to the French culinary tradition of quality over quantity.

So if you’re looking for a new place to try French food, put aside your fears of frog legs and snooty waiters and try Mon Ami Gabi.  You won’t regret it!

Mon Ami Gabi on Urbanspoon

Mon Ami Gabi on Foodio54

El Mago: Quite Bewitching

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It has been awhile since my last entry, but I come back with another classic edition of Mastication Monologues.  Recently, I went to El Mago Grill located at 641 E. Boughton Rd., Suite 152 I Bolingbrook, IL 60440.  It is nestled in the recently erected Promenade shopping center that combines outdoor ambiance with quaint boutique style shopping.

They Even Have Their Own Doorman

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El Mago, to begin with, means “The Wizard” in Spanish, and it truly was a magical experience for my family and I.  First off, we used this sweet Groupon deal where we managed to get the guacamole appetizer, two Hechizo margaritas, and two entrées for fifteen dollars…a pretty good deal I say, amigo!  Anyway, the interior of the restaurant is quite contemporary in design with plenty of bright colors of the American Southwest and Mexico, desert tones/woodwork, and other elements from Mexico like the varieties of tequila that constitute the entire wall behind the bar or the menagerie of luchador (think Nacho Libre) masks that adorn another wall opposite of where you enter the establishment.

We started with the complementary tortilla chips and three different types of salsa.  The first one was a red chile árbol based sauce that was slightly spicy with a smoky aftertaste that only the dried chile árbol could produce.  The second salsa was an interesting twist on a jalapeño based recipe that also incorporated peanuts to provide a mellower flavor that is considered quite spicy for those who can’t handle the heat (I was not phased by any means).  Finally, I decided that out of these three salsas, the salsa verde that was made with cilantro and green tomatillos was my favorite by far.  It wasn’t very spicy, but it had a slightly sour wash over your palate that was further enhanced with the texture of the seeds from the tomatillos.

The Moe, Curly, and Larry of the salsa world

To drink, I ended up imbibing the Hechizo margarita.  Even though its name implies a magical spell, I, a mere muggle, was not held under its sway.  It was quite watered down and had way too much mixer in it; however, they might have just made it with less panache given the fact we were using a Groupon.  So, splash some cash and see if it actually does make a difference.  Soon enough, our guacamole appetizer arrived, and the aftermath looked brutal (the bowl was picked clean like a zebra on the Serengeti).  Gory comparisons aside, the actual guacamole was quite fresh and creamy.  I could taste every single element of this goopy concoction from sweet tomatoes to the very slight hint of the lime juice.  It was definitely a nice departure from the typical guacamole in other Mexican restaurants that have the consistency and taste of bland mashed potatoes.  Plus, it definitely helped when it came to stomaching the tortilla chips that were abnormally salty ( Dead Sea level), but if that’s your thing, then more power to you.  Once that tasty ordeal was over, it was onto the main course.  Little did I know I was about to receive the culinary beatdown of a lifetime.

Amazing guacamole next to a sub par margarita

I decided to order the Ropa Vieja (or “old clothes”, strange name, I know) which consists of shredded beef brisket, farmer’s cheese, sweet plantains, and refried black beans.  When it came out to me, I didn’t know whether to poke it to see if it was going to bite back or to say a prayer to see if I would make it out alive (it was a monstrous portion of food).  The beef brisket alone took up half the plate, but it was so tender you could eat it with a spoon since it was stewed in its own seasoned juices.  The sweet plantains really gave the plate a full body and made it even harder for me to finish.  However, it was my first time venturing into the realm of the use of plantains in cooking, but I can now say that I am looking forward to trying other Latin plantain dishes in the future, i.e. jibaritos and mofongo.  The actual plantains were not soggy by any means, had an underlying sweetness, and seemed to be almost like the potato portion of a steak dinner but with south of the border flavors.  As for the black beans, it complimented the plantains to give it a very Cuban feel to the dish, but they were not like the ordinary refried beans they serve at run of the mill Mexican establishments because you could still see the individual beans in the enormous globule that occupied the left third of your plate.  In addition to all of this food, they provided me with a “very spicy salsa”, but I was not impressed.  So, I managed to finagle with our waitress in Spanish to actually get me a salsa that would make my taste buds and do the lambada (I didn’t quite say this in Spanish…lost in translation haha).  Two salsas later, the chef actually whipped up a Habañero based sauce, that finally provided me with a kick that I was looking for, and I provided a show for the Mexican staff as they couldn’t understand how a güero like me could speak Spanish and eat such spicy food?

They should rename this “El Montón” (the heap)

I just chalk it up to being adventurous in terms of traveling, eating, and learning about new cultures…you can go far with an open mind.   As a whole, this meal was very filling while providing new/unusual flavors and textures and definitely worth the money if you’re looking for something off the beaten path of tacos, enchiladas, and tostadas.

In closing, El Mago Grill is a pretty good cantina for those traditional aforementioned Mexican favorites or dishes you perhaps never have heard of like the Ropa Vieja.  Plus, the very fact that the chef  made up a sauce for me on the spot really made me think that good food is like platform 9 and 3/4s in Harry Potter, “You just have to believe that its there”…now go out and find those good eats!  Buena suerte!

Mago Grill & Cantina on Urbanspoon

Mago Grill and Cantina on Foodio54

A Doughnut by Any Other Name Would Taste as Sweet

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Hello to all out there in the food world coming back again for another helping of culinary wisdom from Mastication Monologues.  This month’s adventure I will be explaining the fundamental deliciousness of a breakfast place by me with an odd name serving up breakfast standards with unique twists.  The establishment in question is called Juicy-O which can be found at various places around the country, but the location I went to is at 6300 Kingery Highway , Suite 418, Willowbrook, IL.  This restaurant has been around for a couple of years now in the strip mall by my house, but the two times I have been in there have been quite interesting.

To begin, why exactly is this restaurant named, “Juicy O”?  I soon found out when I walked into the door with their walls that are covered in small picture frames containing comical pictures about the importance of  enjoying a good breakfast in a society that seems to be even more fast paced with each passing year.  It also gave off a vibe of being more along the lines of an old-fashioned diner that prides itself in its freshly squeezed O.J. (that’s orange juice= the Juicy O in question), I’m not talking about the other type that tries to run away in a white Bronco haha).  I digress, here is an example of their homely wisdom about the universality of breakfast and the integration of various cuisines:

E Pluribus Unum tasty breakfast

As we were seated quite promptly, we received our menus that were quite profuse in terms of variety and the bright colors that inflamed the senses as soon as you looked at the front of it

The Book of Deliciousness

I was immediately surprised that they served bubble teas given that the only time that I have had them was when I was in a restaurant that specialized in Asian cuisine, but I guess they were reaching out to all possible markets when designing the menu.  They got the Latino market as I naturally gravitated towards the Southwestern favorites since I always do crave something spicy/something with tortillas to eat.  However, whilst I was attempting to make my choice there was something that made me bow down to the greatness of this place.  The waitress proceeded to place a bowl of small donut holes covered in cinnamon sugar in front of us…for free!

Donuts of the Gods…complete with divine cinnamon sugar

This definitely blew the standard basket of bread out of the water at any Greek run restaurant, and my giddiness was confirmed as I took one succulent bite of these expertly and lightly fried donut spheres of excellence.  Before I could realize it we had destroyed the entire donut population like settlers decimating the buffalo on the Western plains.  We should have paced ourselves because the second bowl wasn’t free, but it focused my mind again which eventually settled on chilaquiles, which is eggs with chicken, tortilla chips, and salsa all mixed in a bowl.  Initially I was worried about my choice given the fact that earlier in my life I ordered enchiladas in a similar place which lets just say did not end muy bien.  However, the dish was surprisingly tasty since the tortilla chips were not too soggy, the eggs were not runny at all, and the spicy salsa did not cover the flavor of the other elements of the dish but rather brought them out to their full potential.

My second, more recent, visit was pretty much the same deal with the donuts, but I decided to get something a bit more traditional with a twist since I thrive on finding new foods to try or variations of universal favorites.  Thus, the Elvis French Toast caught my eye (price: $9) due to the fact that it had French toast, bananas, and peanut butter (three of my favorite foods in the world since I eat pb and banana sandwiches everyday), so I thought it would be a match made in heaven.  I also tried their famous, freshly squeezed orange juice which was tasty and tangy, but definitely not worth the $5 price tag it supposedly demanded.   Eventually the moment of truth arrived when I’d be face to face with a Rock and Roll legend in French toast form, and my mom also ordered Bananas Foster French toast due to her obsession with New Orleans cuisine.

At first glance, my Elvis french toast looked like his ’68 return special when he was rejuvenated through the use of black leather and sweet sideburns kind of like this:

The Resemblance is Uncanny to…

The King of French Toast

Sadly, this dish was as bland as his characters in his many movies, and it just left me bloated/disappointed at the end of it all (R.I.P.).  The syrup did add a hint of flavor to the peanut butter, but overall it was too many neutral flavors cavorting in one dish which never really grabbed a hold of my palate and said, “I Want You, I Need You”.  Instead I was just left with Suspicious Minds…alright, pun fest over.  My mom’s choice, the Bananas Foster French toast, was the same pattern where the presentation overshadowed the quality:

A Taste of NOLA for Breakfast

I enjoyed the bananas more than with the French toast which was bland overall, but the fruit had a nice coating of a cinnamon sugar glaze which would satisfy anyone with even tiniest of a sweet tooth.

Overall, I would recommend Juicy O to anyone who wants to try some new variations on breakfast favorites, even if they aren’t that satisfying sometimes.  On a closing note, the establishment only stays open till 3 p.m., so if you’re uncertain about going, take the everlasting advice of a soulful Mississippi boy, “It’s Now or Never”.

Juicy-O on Urbanspoon

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