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Temenaks in Tenerife (Day 3: Whistling for Cookies; La Gomera)

Posted on July 26, 2018 by Mark T

Finally, I have found some time to continue telling you the wonderful saga of our adventures in the sunny Canary Islands on Mastication Monologues! If you haven’t been following my blog, day 1 was non-stop action while day 2 was more laid back. Today’s post has more of a cultural focus compared to the previous posts, but that doesn’t mean it’s any less interesting.

As mentioned in the day 2 post, day 3 would be the day we would travel across the channel to the west of our hotel to the second smallest island of the Canary Island chain: La Gomera. The island’s name origin is unclear, but some believe it comes from the native Guanche word “Ghomara” meaning “boss” or “notable”. The Romans called the island Junonia, but the first full map of the island appeared in 1372. Long story short, it still remains a mysterious and ancient island compared to the island of Tenerife where tourism reigns supreme. We started by meeting up with our tour group via a very busy transfer in a sea of German and Dutch tourists. Why those particular nationalities? We learned that Angel Merkel, the Prime Minister of Germany, has chosen the sleepy island as her holiday getaway spot. Thus, her countrymen and women were naturally to follow and admire the hiking and natural beauty. When we arrived at the port of Los Cristianos, we boarded the ferry and crossed the crystal blue waters on an hour long journey. We landed at San Sebastian de la Gomera which is the main port of the island. Further interesting history to come toward the end of the post. We started our tour of the island by climbing north into the forested mountains to Los Roques which was a series of ancient volcanic plugs or explosions of cooled magma that are contained within the rock of the Earth’s crust. There have also been indigenous Guanche sacrificial shrines found on the top of these formations, but further climbing has been prohibited after a German film crew looted the site. We then moved to Garajonay National Park whose name is derived from the Guanche lovers Gara and Jonay or the indigenous version of Juliet and Romeo, respectively. However, instead of the Italian version of the Bloods and the Crips, the Guanche version had Mt. Teide erupting as a sign of the gods disapproval, and the forbidden lovers from two different Guanche tribes committing suicide on the top of a mountain on the island. Talk about drama.

My Gara

Mt. Teide on Tenerife across the bay.

However, their tragic story aside, the national park is home to a subtropical forest that was similar to what existed in Europe before massive human expansion. The forests have been traced back to at least 9,500 years ago, and their ancient beauty were a sight to behold. From the moss-covered, gnarled trees to the tiny mountain roads, we were taken aback by Garajonay’s treasures and our bus driver’s ability to somehow allow another bus pass us on a road made for two cars.

How do you get out of this situation?

As we further explored the park, we toured a recreated traditional Canarian village complete with a house and a hut serving one of the iconic Canarian foods: gofio. The name comes from the indigenous language of the island of Gran Canaria in the same chain, but on Tenerife it is known as ahoren. The Berbers of North Africa, who are likely the ancestors of the Guanche people, call it “arkul“. Whatever you call it, it is a flour made from ground and toasted grains and cereals such as wheat and maize. It can also be found in Dominican and Puerto Rican cooking. It can be made into an oatmeal of sorts, candy, or in this case, cookies. I went for a chocolate cookie and a cinnamon cookie. Janice wasn’t a fan, but I personally liked them.

Chocolate gofio goodness

They were like harder, crumbly sugar cookies minus the overt sweetness which was replaced with a light cocoa flavor or plenty of savory cinnamon notes. Cookies in tow, we went to a lunch where was nothing of note aside from some typical Canarian food like mojo verde, but we saw a demonstration of the indigenous language of el silbo or “the whistle”. The native Guanche people likely brought this language based on whistling as a way to communicate up to 4 miles/7 km away between the mountaintops of the islands (for an example, click here). This language was on the brink of extinction until campaigns saved it, and it is now a mandatory class in schools on the island. However, Spanish remains the dominant form of communication across the Canary Islands. In this demonstration, the “speakers” were able to communicate phrases by mimicking the tonal patters of Spanish via whistling, and they were even able to locate hidden items in the room from our fellow diners and return them back to the original owners. Following lunch, we continued to tour the island and went to an aloe farm in one of the valleys close to San Sebastian which was also next to a banana plantation, two of the Canary Islands’ main products. We learned from our guide Alex that only true aloe very has yellow flowers growing out of it; aloe vera tends to turn purple when low on water; and it can be harvested via cutting and leaving the leaves to soak overnight. I also tried unsweetened aloe water straight from the plant, and it tasted strangely musty yet acidic. It’s not replacing lemonade as a cool Summer drink that’s for certain.

Alex shucking them aloe leaves!

Finally, we traveled back to the port of San Sebastian to see Iglesia de La Asuncion where Columbus prayed in 1492 before reaching the New World in addition to the customs house where Columbus lived during his time on La Gomera and the Torre de la Conde.It was part of the oldest military fort in the Canary Islands having been built in 1450. Although only one turret is still standing, you could imagine how imposing it would be when fully standing even though it seems it was inhabited by tiny people upon closer inspection.

Perfect sized door for her

We eventually made our way to the port, but we couldn’t help but admire the beautiful black sand beach and local aquatic fauna. Thusly, we ended day three on la isla magica!

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Posted in Spanish and tagged aloe, authentic, bananas, cookies, dining, flour, Food, gofio, potatoes, Reviews, sauce, sweet, Travel. Bookmark the permalink.

Temenaks in Tenerife (Day 2: Cannonballs and Cuttlefish)

Posted on July 17, 2018 by Mark T

If you’re still reading Mastication Monologues for day 2 of our Tenerife adventures, you’re in luck because that’s exactly what’s in store for this post! While my post for day one was action packed complete with a beach rave and us being tardy to a sardine burning party, this post is for those who are more into chill days or fans of the world’s beautiful game: Soccer or better known as football.

We started the day off with breakfast in the hotel restaurant, and we decided to take a post-breakfast paseo or stroll to the walkway below the hotel that traced the jagged, volcanic coast of the island with plenty of giant aloe plants, beautiful flowers, and lizards along the way. Eventually, we looked out over the alcantilados or local cliffs and saw that there was a round indentation that jutted out from the coastline and was filled with water. Upon closer inspection, we saw that there were people walking around it and swimming by it in the ocean. Our new plan for the day was to make it to the natural pool and swim in the ocean or bust. This was our first foray into the very hilly main neighborhoods east of our hotel, and it turned out to be more complicated that we thought. Since Tenerife has undergone and still is experiencing the influx of tourism, we had to navigate a labyrinth of private resort properties and small side streets to eventually find a series of stairways that led to the rocky coast line. However, our adventure didn’t end there, we then traversed a series of giant, sloping crags to eventually reach the end of rocky shore and the natural pool. It was a true test of marital teamwork. As we made our way past snorkelers riding the waves while also trying not to be thrown upon the giant stones lining the shore, we were amazed at how Tenerife manages to still have pockets of wild beauty amidst the encroachment of humans. We gazed upon the water as we prepared to dive in, and we could even see small fish flitting about under the surface before we cannonballed our way into the cold and salty Atlantic. It was a great day of soaking up the sun and surf while swimming. Eventually, we decided to call it a day after we began to feel like pieces of salty bacalao, and on our way back up from the natural pool we made friends with an older Italian couple. The jolly signore and I bonded as we helped our ladies over the giant rocks, and he was surprised to find we were American. Turns out he was retired Italian air force officer who temporarily worked with the U.S. military and lived in Huntsville, Alabama (said with his best impression of a Southern American accent), and we enjoyed a good laugh about sometimes not being able to understand some of our fellow tourists’ thick British accents. Eventually, we parted ways at the top of the hill, and Janice and I decided to get an early dinner before the Spain vs. Morocco match.

We ended up at a small restaurant called Camber (Calle Herrador, 64, 38683 Puerto de Santiago, Santa Cruz de Tenerife, Spain) that was your typical Spanish cafeteria with terrace seating and indoor seating and a bar with tapas out for display. We decided to sit outside to enjoy the sunny weather, but that quickly became our undoing as we were bombarded with a horde of flies that were enchanted with my saltwater-soaked jersey. Between enraged swats, we had a lovely meal. The first tapas that emerged were paella and the albondigas or meatballs. The paella wasn’t as good as the one from our sunset cruise, but the sweet tomato sauce went well with the pork-based meatballs. We then received our gambas al ajillo or garlic shrimp which was served in a way I’ve never seen before. Instead of being grilled and tossed with garlic, they were served in a low, wide clay bowl still boiling in water and olive oil and surrounded by a plethora of sliced garlic cloves. Although they were on the smaller end of the shrimp kingdom, they were fresh and coated in a heavenly garlic wash. Finally, our main and muy canario entree emerged from the kitchen: choco or cuttlefish with a side of papas arrugadas or wrinkly potatoes. Surprisingly, there were some indigenous potatoes on the islands before the Spaniards introduced the variety we were eating in the 1500s. However, the ancient preparation of this dish hasn’t changed where they are boiled, heavily salted, and then left to dry which results in a shriveled potato with a salty crust (kind of how we felt after our Atlantic Ocean adventure). These spuds were accompanied by traditional mojo verde and mojo rojo (pronounced “mo-ho). The green/verde variety was more like a mild chimichurri made from parsley, cilantro, garlic, and olive oil, and the red/rojo variety was spicier since it contained paprika and small, red peppers from the neighboring island of La Palma. I liked both of them, especially when mixed together, on the potatoes. These sauces were eventually brought to the Caribbean where they live on in Cuban, Puerto Rican, and Dominican cuisine, and the red mojo legacy even can be seen in some spicier barbecue sauces from the American South where Spanish influence existed like Texas, Florida, and Louisiana. As for the choco or cuttlefish, it is a very common dish as well as octopus in the Canary Islands since island nations typically love their seafood. I don’t think it was the best cuttlefish in the world, but it wasn’t terrible. I liked the green mojo that brought out more of the cuttlefish’s salty flavor, but I’m sure there are better seafood spots on the island. Once we paid, we walked back to our hotel to change out of the fly-enticing clothes we were rocking. On our walk back, we perused a local open-air mall for some possible souvenirs, and we found a let’s just say “suggestive” trend of suspiciously shaped bottle openers as we went from store to store. Eventually, we asked a shopkeep why there are so many of these kind of bottle openers, and he simply said, “One person sold them, and people buy them.” Hooray for civilization! Once we changed, we walked back up the mini-mountain to Bar Central (Av. 5º Centanario, s/n, 38683 Santiago del Teide, Santa Cruz de Tenerife, Spain). It was similar to the Camber cafeteria, but it was soccer themed with all of the crests of Spanish futbol clubs along the top of the establishment. As the teams took the field and the anthems played, we saw the surrounding tables fill up with patrons, some who worked at our hotel, to see the furia roja play their way to the top of the group. As the ball began to roll, our waiter came around with free tapas (credit to Janice for the excellent portraits) including green olives, liver sausage on crunchy, mini toasts, and our favorite spicy chorizo spread on the same small toasts. It was the perfect side to our cold Doradas and the dramatic injury time goal that brought the Spanish to the top of their group. After all that excitement, it was calming to watch the sun set over the horizon and the beautiful island of Gomera that we would explore the following day. Stay tuned, readers!

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Posted in Alcoholic, Beer, European Cuisine, Spanish, Spanish and tagged authentic, Bar, Beer, Beverages, chorizo, dining, Food, grill, onions, peppers, pool, pork, restaurant, Reviews, rice, salad, salsa, sauce, sausage, spicy, swimming. Bookmark the permalink.

Temenaks in Tenerife (Day 1: Noche de San Juan, Sunset Cruise)

Posted on July 12, 2018 by Mark T

Welcome back once again to another entry of Mastication Monologues! I may or may not have more free time to write on this blog now that I have officially graduated from my speech pathology program, but my wife and I actually just came back from a magical honeymoon in the mysterious land of Tenerife in the Canary Islands. When we eventually settled on the location, I was very excited because I wanted to go somewhere in Spain, but a location I had never been before so my wife and I could explore together.

The Canary Islands are a series of volcanic islands that are off the west coast of Morocco that truly are a hidden gem and basically Hawaii for Europeans who are searching for fun in the sun, i.e. English, German, and Russian tourists mostly. However, when we told people stateside where we were going, we were greeted with typically an uncertain, “Oh cool. That’s awesome.” followed by, “So where are they exactly?” However, they wished us well and to have plenty of fun which we obviously did. Funny enough though, the islands are not named after the chirpy birds that were used in mine shafts rather the birds were named after the islands. Numerous theories about the islands’ name abound. One involves the Romans calling the islands Canariae Insulae or “Island of Dogs” due to the presence of the dogs the indigenous Guanche tribes bred, worshipped as gods throughout the island, and even mummified them to be buried with their owners. When the Spanish arrived in the 1490s, they described the same large, powerful dogs killing wolves that were attacking their livestock, and today this ancient breed is known as the Prensa Canario as shown below. Another theory is that the Romans named the islands after the large amount of seals or “sea dogs” they saw on the shores. Instead of starting our travels in the Eternal City like the ancient travelers, we left Chicago on an overnight flight. We decided to start our honeymoon off right with a light dinner at Hub 51 at O’Hare airport. We had been to Hub 51 in Chicago before with friends (delicious food), so we knew they wouldn’t disappoint us. We got a delicious, not too dry Giuliana prosecco in addition to sharing guacamole and chips. The chips were on the thin, cantina-style side which sometimes was a drawback if we wanted to really pile on the rich but not too spicy guacamole. We also wanted to try their Brussels sprout salad, but we had a stroke of luck when they said they were out of the Brussels sprout salad. We switched it up and ordered the Sonoma salad instead which was delectable from the mixed greens to the fresh slices of grapefruit that offset the sweeter vinaigrette and candied walnuts. With our bellies full and ready to depart the Windy City, we eventually arrived in London-town and had a layover in “beautiful” Gatwick airport. During our time there, we decided to grab some food before our next leg to the islands. We ended up at Garfunkle’s which seemed like England’s take on a Chili’s with general burgers as well as more traditional British fare in the form of fish and chips and a chicken pie which we ordered. While the fish and chips weren’t as authentic as getting it from a chippy or a fish and chip shop for those who don’t speak British English, the breading was light and crispy with plenty of delicious cod beneath. Their chips were a bit stale which I didn’t care for, and their mushy peas were a bit too mint heavy. Janice’s chicken pie was more satisfying with layers of creamy mashed potatoes, seasoned chunks of chicken, a hearty cream sauce, and a side of carrots and broccolini. After our bite to eat, we grabbed brews to watch the Belgium v.s. Tunisia. Funny enough, the beers my wife got were from Portland, Maine that her and her friends get when they’re in Connecticut. It was a quite hoppy IPA, but thankfully it was something light before the second leg of our trip that finally brought us to Tenerife.

Flying into Tenerife, it looked like a more desert-covered version of what I would expect Hawaii to be. The most breathtaking portion of the island was seeing the looming Mount Teide above the clouds. It is a still active volcano that the native Guanche people called Echeyde. They viewed the peak as a portal to hell and the home of a powerful demon, Guayota, who was imprisoned there as punishment for kidnapping the god of sun and light, Magec. The subsequent eruptions of the volcano, the most recent in 1909, were seen as Guayota attempting to escape. We were swiftly shuttled from the southern airport on the island of Tenerife to our hotel in Los Alcantilados Los Gigantes. However, it wasn’t just any special night, it was La Noche de San Juan or Saint John’s night which was adopted by the Catholic Spanish from the pagan Guanche people who originally celebrated the date to ring in the summer solstice. We could see the traditional giant bonfires dotting the countryside as the local Canarios were burning old belongings to signify a new start to the year. When we finally arrived to our hotel, we were exhausted yet at the same time exhilarated and ready to find a beach party to experience a unique cultural celebration. Our first meal wasn’t quite a leap into the unknown at the restaurant across the street from our hotel with a Margarita Italian-style, thin crust pizza with mugs of typical, thin, Spanish lager native to the Canary Islands called Dorada. Once we were fueled up, we began our hunt for the beach party for San Juan. We received conflicting information from the waitress and the front desk worker, but they both said that there was a giant wooden sardine to be burned. We had to be there simply for the randomness. It soon began a wild goose chase of people telling us to just find the beach in addition to randomly attempting to find the party with a German family. Suddenly, the skies in front of us lit up with glittering explosions, and Janice and I immediately ran toward them, leaving the Germans in our wake. We finally found the hidden route to the beach party and were faced with only the finest Euro-techno beatz Tenerife had to offer. I asked the bartender about the burning sardine, and it already happened two hours ago on the beach! Still, the thrill of the hunt was entertaining, and we enjoyed the ambiance. After a cold Dorada looking out over the revelers on the black sand beach and the pile of ashes from the wooden sardine in the background, we decided to call it a night.

Our first morning in Tenerife was breathtaking as we enjoyed the iconic cliffs or alcantilados right outside our window. We then went downstairs to experience the interesting buffet that our hotel had to offer. It was very European with plenty of cereals, cold cuts, and a bread wall. You heard me right. It was literally a wall of fresh bread that you could slice your own piece of baguette, boule, or rye. I swear I saw Janice kneeling in front of it praising the carb gods, but maybe it was just my jet lag. I helped myself to a variety of fresh fruits like the Canarian banana that is smaller than the ones found stateside, but are much sweeter and probably the best I’ve ever had. They also had churros and melted chocolate (not pictured here) which constitute a typical Spanish breakfast. There was also a sopressata spread that was salty and spicy in all the right ways. At midday, we decided to watch the England vs Panama game at one of the many local British bars. The food was nothing to brag about compared to what was to come, but I tried a corned beef and Branston pickle sandwich, something I never tried before. While in America, we think of salty, crunchy pickled cucumbers, Branston pickle is an English made spread that consisted of chunks of pickled carrots, onions, and turnips in a sweet, slightly spicy brown sauce. Apparently it’s very popular in English pubs on cheese sandwiches. It was okay on a very simple sandwich, but it did not set my palate alight compared to other meals we would have this trip. After enjoying the 5-0 thrashing of Panama and plenty of airhorn blasts from the barkeeps, we had a date with a private sunset cruise from Puerto Colon.

It was a glorious day, as are most days in the Canaries, and we set sail out on the Atlantic Ocean with Captain Marco and Captain Jan Jan.

Captain Jan Jan showing us around

We were treated to delicious Spanish cava or champagne and (in counterclockwise order below) a mix of Spanish cheeses, mild and spicy Spanish chorizo, and melt-in-your mouth jamon iberico (Iberian ham).Between the appetizers and the main course, we were treated to something unbelievable: 30-35 pilot whales swimming around our boat. Captain Marco said he never saw anything like it before because these whales are naturally shy around humans and boats.

Part of a family pod with a little baby whale in the middle

Eventually, all that excitement made us hungry, and we had a mouth-watering mixed paella that contained fresh mussels, tiny clams, plentiful rings of calamari, and juicy pieces of sausage and chicken. It was followed up by a decadent chocolate torte and an apple tart that were too good for words. As came into port, we were brought to a lookout point to watch the sunset. A beautiful end to a beautiful day.

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Whatever Floats Your Goat (Duck Duck Goat)

Posted on June 13, 2017 by Mark T

Ah Tuesday. The most underwhelming day of the week. It doesn’t have the anticipation of a Friday or the dread of a Monday or even the satisfaction of getting over the peak of the work week on a Wednesday. Thankfully, I have a wonderful Mastication Monologues post about a restaurant that will have you wishing for the weekend.

Stephanie Izard is one of the highest profile female restaurateurs who has cultivated an enormous following through her various eateries in the West Loop/slowly gentrifying Fulton Market area of Chicago, including the famed Girl and the Goat which I have also written about. Now, she has taken her legend to another level by becoming an Iron Chef as well as opening a Chinese inspired restaurant called Duck Duck Goat, a much better alternative to a goose, I think.

Izard just making noodles (PC: WGN)

It is easy to get to by public transportation or with a car, and when we walked in, it was very busy with the lunch crowd. From the neon lights in the front window to every inch of the interior, Izard has attempted to recreate the kitschy 1950s Chinese restaurants that tried to slap as many random artifacts on the walls and used as many brightly colored wallpapers in each room. Even though it sounds like a madhouse, it was pleasant on the eye in its tacky glory as we took a seat at the center island bar while we waited for our third diner to join us. We decided to try some of their mixed drinks since they looked too good to pass up. I got the Bebop and Woksteady, the bartender appreciated by Ninja Turtle knowledge on that one, and Janice got the Lucky Duck. I won’t go into every single detail of what went into these elaborate drinks, but I greatly enjoyed my cocktail. It was a mix of mezcal, pineapple juice, and orange juice with lime salt coating the rim. If you’ve never had mezcal before, it is an acquired taste. Mezcal comes from the Nahuatl (language of the Aztecs) word “Mexcalli” (Mesh-calee) meaning “over-cooked agave” because it comes from the same agave plant tequila is made from. However, since it is overcooked, it has a strong smoky flavor which I think gives it a more complex flavor than tequila. The Aztecs believed the agave plant was holy and contained the nectar of the gods, and the Bebop and Woksteady was just that. The smokiness of the mezcal was enhanced with the lime salt yet had an understated sweetness that kept it from becoming a poor man’s chelada. Janice’s Lucky Duck was a rum based drink that tasted like a sweet, bubbly lemonade with a low-key bitter undertone. Eventually, Janice’s friend Joe arrived, and we were seated at the table.

Looking over the menu, they even extended the same old-school Chinese vibe to the layout and pictures. Before we got our food, Joe and Janice went on to get the Try Try Again and the Good Health cocktails. We quickly learned that you couldn’t go wrong with their mixed drinks since everything we had was delicious and dangerous since they tasted like candy. However, I went off the beaten path to keep it real with the Chinese menu and got an adult bubble tea. I got the Honey Please which was milk tea infused with honey whiskey. While I am partial to a great bubble tea, especially of the taro variety, I wasn’t too pleased with Duck Duck Goat’s take on this Taiwanese drink mainly because they went too heavy on the whiskey and light on the tea. Once we refilled out cups, we got down to business with the foodstuffs. Overall, the prices were more on the pricier end compared to other dim sum/Chinese restaurants in Chinatown and Chicagoland, but we learned that the price tag was justified. It was interesting because it wasn’t as full on American Chinese as I anticipated yet it was more like an intermediate selection of more Western friendly Chinese traditional dishes with a classic Izard twist. Plus, all menu options were on the small to medium end and meant to be shared with your fellow diners.

Chinese food has been around since the 1800s in the United States due to a high influx of Chinese immigrants to the West coast to build the railroads. Most of the workers came from southern regions of China, especially the town of Taisan (台山市), and brought with them food that had to be either adapted for their American customers or made as close to the real deal for their fellow Chinese immigrants without having all the necessary ingredients. Traditional Cantonese dishes do have some similarities to the modern day orange chickens and chop suey, but most mainland Chinese view American Chinese food as foreign food that their favorite tv characters eat out of white take-out boxes. Instead of heavily-sauced meat dishes, we started with char siu bao or pork buns. We got the baked version (叉燒餐包) which was different from the steamed type often served at many dim sum restaurants in Chinatown. The dough was amazing. Soft and topped with green scallions, but the filling was kind of disappointing. I was expecting the red, sweet minced pork in all previous char siu dishes I’ve tried, but instead it was more like shreddednpork with little seasoning. I would still recommend trying them for the dough alone. Next up, the extremely lightly pan-fried jiaozi ( 鍋貼). The name behind these dumplings come from many sources. Some believe it comes from the Chinese word for “horn” like on a bull, others the early word for “money”, or possibly the word “jiao’er” meaning “tender ears” because an ancient Traditional Chinese medicine practitioner made them for his patients who had frostbitten ears. No matter its origin story, it was a wonderful choice. They were filled with beef short rib and bone marrow whose saltiness was sinfully rich and filling. I highly recommend these dumplings. Then came the chiu chow fun gor which were shrimp dumplings that were showered with modestly sweet peanut-soy sauce and pickled red peppers. They were also more multi-layered in terms of flavor compared to the char siu bao or the next choice in our feast. Following these dumplings, we got, surprise surprise, xiao long bao (小籠包) or soup buns. These unique dumplings were invented in Shanghai but quickly spread throughout China. The ones served at Duck Duck Goat were served in the southern Chinese style with translucent skin and filled with traditional pork, crab, and broth. If you’ve never had the pleasure of getting to know these dumplings, do not pop them in your mouth immediately, or you will be scalded with hot soup on your tongue and elsewhere. They were just as good as the ones I had at Din Tai Fung in Hong Kong! They were complimented very well with a lip-smacking earthy soy sauce on the side. Finally, we ended the dumpling part of our dinner with ham sui gok (咸水饺/咸水角) or glutinous rice goat dumplings. These were new to me, and I typically would avoid rice cake due to my experiences in Korea. However, the crunchy, fried exterior gave way to a chewy interior that was stuffed with seasoned goat. I would preferred it if it was served with a hoisin or spicy sauce to make this dish really pop, but Iron Chef Izard knows what’s best. Transitioning from more tame dumplings, we went full throttle into more traditional Chinese fare that could drive more squeamish diners away: duck hearts. I had previously eaten parts of a duck I never thought I would when hosted by my friend David’s family in Taipei (非常谢谢!), but this is another part that I ended up loving. Izard nailed the dish by roasting them until they had a good char and served them halved on a puddle of mild sesame-horseradish sauce. Given the heart is pure muscle, it almost tasted like cubes of sirloin with a slight kick from the horseradish. Hands down my second if not top dish we had at dinner. As if we couldn’t eat any more, Janice recommended that we should try the slap noodles. The reason why they’re called “slap” is because they are slapped on the kitchen counter to remove any excess flour as they’re stretched to perfection by hand (example here). I personally wasn’t wowed with these thicker, somewhat crispy noodles that were canoodling with shrimp, goat sausage, bean sprouts, and a strange red vegetable we couldn’t identify. My theory was that they were cooked tomatoes. Joe and Janice preferred it more than I did, but I think my preference for thinner or crispier noodles may have clouded my perceptions. Noodle-wise, I was definitely feeling the chilly chili noodles. Perhaps I liked it because it was more Korean in nature because it had the spicy ramen-esque noodles, pickled cucumbers, and was cold like naengmyeon. Surprisingly, we had room for dessert in the form of baonuts (see what they did there?). These deep-fried bao were similar to the char siu bao earlier in our meal, but these were more like warm doughnuts and filled with rich, dark chocolate frosting. They were well-executed as a Chinese version of a Western doughnut, but it was nothing super innovative.

Our experience at Duck Duck Goat was definitely memorable. I would highly recommend a visit if you’re tired of eating the same old Panda Express and want to expand your Chinese food horizons but are not yet ready to go full throttle with some chicken feet or stinky tofu. Just remember to come hungry and be willing to share your food with others, if possible!

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Posted in Alcoholic, Beverages, Cantonese, Chinese, Dim Sum, Far East Asian Cuisine, Hard Liquor, Mixed Drinks, Sichuan and tagged authentic, Bar, beef, Beverages, Chicago, Chinese, chocolate, dining, Duck Duck Goat, fried, hot, Illinois, Izard, noodles, peppers, pork, restaurant, Reviews, sauce, spicy, sweet, West Loop. Bookmark the permalink.

San Diego (Day 3): A Sweet Sendoff (Il Fornaio and Phil’s BBQ)

Posted on September 13, 2016 by Mark T

It has finally come to the end of the line for the San Diego travelogue, and perhaps my last blog post in a long time to come as I begin my journey through graduate school tomorrow. I’ll try my best to post on her, but life has a funny way of hijacking my best material. As always on Mastication Monologues, I plan on highlighting the culinary stops we made along the way during our travels as well as any fun or exciting events of note. Day three was much more laid back than day one or day two aside from a little shoe scare toward the end of our trip.

As we woke up from our deep slumber from the crazy night before, we were definitely feeling the results of dancing and indulging ourselves all night long with great company. Thankfully, the newlyweds were hosting a farewell brunch for guests at another eatery on Coronado Island called Il Fornaio or “The Baker” in Italian. It was one of seemingly a million Italian eateries strewn about San Diego, but it was clearly inspired by the signature villas one could find in the Tuscan countryside with the sand colored walls and arbor vitaes lining the entrance. On the inside, it was light and airy with exposed woodwork and a kitchen that was open to the public eye. While we didn’t eat from the official menu since it was picked out to be more wide ranging for the multitude of guests’ palates, the waffles, eggs, and sausage that were provided were all excellent, especially the fluffy waffles topped with a spritz of whipped cream and some freshly sliced strawberries. We didn’t touch any of their alcoholic offerings like their signature mimosas or bellinis (a nod to the classic Venetian drink at Harry’s Bar), but they didn’t mess around when my fiancee asked for her personal elixir of life: Diet Coke.

Now that’s service!

Once finished with chowing down on the delectable morsels, we strolled out onto the outdoor patio that overlooked the entire San Diego skyline. A breathtaking view for a trip that has felt the same way at certain points due to the immense amount of activities that were planned. We were under the canopy, soaking up the last few rays of humidity free weather, when suddenly Janice remembered she didn’t have her high heels from last night. I quickly traced our Uber driver down online and called him. Luckily, he had them in the back of his car, and offered to drive to the restaurant to drop them off. After we wished the Cua and Ng family goodbye and thanked them for their hospitality, our Uber driver arrived right on time with the goods. It seemed like nothing could stand in our way on this perfect vacation. Not even when we looking for a place to satisfy our rumbling stomachs as we waited for our plane. As mentioned in my day one post, the wedding party hosted a rehearsal dinner with barbecue catering. Lo and behold, Janice and I ended up eating at the same company’s franchise location in San Diego’s airport: Phil’s BBQ. After looking over their full menu of chicken, ribs, salads, sandwiches, and fixin’s, I decided to share a quarter rib dinner with Janice ($10). It included four of their ribs and with two small sides or one large side. We opted for the former choice in the form of potato salad and macaroni salad. It also came with a side of cornbread which might not be offered at their main restaurant locations. The ribs were smaller than the gargantuan ones offered at Sabrina and Thompson’s rehearsal dinner, but that didn’t mean that they were lacking in flavor. The tomato-based sauce was on the sweeter end with not much of a smoky profile to it. They weren’t as mouth-wateringly transcendent than the Twin Anchor ribs back in Chicago, but they were better than some fancy Italian dining at Sbarro. The sides were competently made but nothing of note. I did enjoy the cornbread that was warm and soft without the waterfall of crumbs that typically accompany each bite of cornbread. I’d recommend trying Phil’s BBQ if you have a layover and want to try some Ohio style bbq, but it isn’t a must for any traveler. At least the food was more satisfying than the Euro 2016 final between Portugal and France we watched. By the time we were boarding, Ronaldo was lifting the trophy, elated beyond words, while we were less than enthused to come back to reality after such a wonderful time. Perhaps the West coast really is the best coast after all that we saw, experienced, and tasted. Until next time, readers! Keep on traveling and eating!

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Posted in American Cuisine, Barbecue, Breakfast, Chain Restaurants, Mixed Drinks, Non-Alcoholic, Soft Drink and tagged airport, bbq, bread, corn, Coronado, cream, Food, Il Fornaio, Italian, macaroni, pasta, pork, potatoes, salad, San Diego, sauce, strawberries, Travel, waffles, whipped. Bookmark the permalink.

San Diego (Day 1): I’m Going Back, Back To Cali (Yankee Pier, Lemonade)

Posted on August 28, 2016 by Mark T

Time is fleeting. Summer 2016 is flying by in the Chi per usual as kids are going back to school, and parents are happy the little monsters are out of their hair. The last of the street festivals are attempting to be crammed into the few days of nice weather we have left before winter comes to our metropolis a la Game of Thrones (hopefully sans the army of the dead). Luckily, I have another wonderful travelogue to bring a bit of sunshine to your day through the magic of our trip this summer to San Diego, California.

Janice had originally informed me of one of her child hood friends, Sabrina, was going to get married about a year ago, and when I finally found out where the wedding was going to be, I couldn’t be more excited. It turned out it was going to be in San Diego, specifically Coronado Island. The reason for my excitement was that I hadn’t been back to California in ages, and I was aching for some of that humidity-free fresh air and West coast sunshine, a definite change from this Chicago summer known more for humidity, heat, and destructive lighting storms. No wonder we Midwesterners are so tough. Janice and I had an ungodly early flight, so by the time we reached our layover in San Francisco, another fun place to visit in California, we needed something to eat for breakfast beside the miniscule treats they handed out to placate us in the coach section. As we strolled to our gate, we found a restaurant that seemed to be quite popular with our fellow travelers: Yankee Pier. They are a chain that has a stand alone location and another one in the San Francisco aiport, so they had a menu and service to compliment the need for people on the run. However, this focus on culinary efficiency didn’t sacrifice the quality of the food. I got some sort of Mexican omelet that was liberally garnished with cilantro and filled with peppers, chiles, potatoes, tomatoes, and avocado which was a major game changer. With a couple splashes of Tabasco hot sauce, I turned this fiesta in my mouth from mas o menos to un bombazo! There was plenty of flavor to savor in this omelet, and I’d recommend it if you like Mexican flavors in general. It was so good I even caught Janice in the act of sneaking a bite or three from my plate. Also, I really enjoyed their sourdough toast because it wasn’t very crispy and more on the chewy end. Sourdough is actually part of San Francisco’s identity since it was brought to the state by French bakers in the 1840s during the famous gold rush, and Yankee Pier’s version of the iconic bread did not disappoint. Overall, if you’re looking for a delicious meal that is also mindful of your travel time restrictions, I’d highly recommend Yankee Pier. Once we downed our food, we were on a plane further south to San Diego.

Life is terrible

Upon landing we were picked up by Janice’s friend Amber and another little companion I was not expecting. I got in the back seat and was face to face with Ellie the Schnauzer. She was such a good lil’ poochy, but she was ready to show us around the town with her owner. Eventually, we found a place to park and walk around. Eventually, we had worked up a bit of an appetite, so Amber took us to one of her favorite local eateries: Lemonade. Apparently, it has locations all over the Golden State due to its popularity as a purveyor of healthy salads, sandwiches, and (not so healthy) sweets. Oh yeah, and they do have their own homemade lemonades, of course! (Sorry, Beyonce fans). We didn’t know what to get because there was so much to choose from, but we went with two of the cold salads: the blt panzanella ($2.75) and the edamame salad ($2.50). It was cafeteria style, so they scooped a generous helping of each on our plate as we slid down the line. We also wanted to try one of the sandwiches and purchased the tomato and mozzarella ($6.95). They also have a plethora of sinfully decadent looking desserts, but we did not give into them. It was time to pay for our goods, and we had fun with the employees having samples of their lemonades behind the counter. It’s not just your mother’s lemon and sugar based summer drink. We tried the carrot ginger, hibiscus limeade, and blood orange lemonades. The best part was that you could mix and match as many flavors as your thirsty heart desired at no extra charge. In the end, we made a mix of the blood orange and the hibiscus tea. It resulted in a deep burgundy hued drink with a slightly tangy and almost cherry-esque tinged flavor profile that would cool us off after running around with Ellie the tour guide and Amber. We took a seat on the patio in the front, and while the ladies were catching up, poochy was enjoying her time on my lap/losing her cool over my drink.

So calm

Maybe not

Eventually, we got to eating our salad and our freshly made sandwich. The salads were fresh and light since we didn’t want to fill up before the rehearsal dinner for Sabrina’s wedding. The edamame salad was seasoned with a vinaigrette and pepped up with pickled radishes, sesame seeds, and carrots. I particularly enjoyed each firm bean imparting an earthy note to each forkful. The panzanella was my choice (on the left), and is an antiquated recipe. This Italian salad has been referenced in literature as early as the 16th century as a “salad of onions served with toast”. While it has shifted in focus from onions as a base to tomatoes, it doesn’t take anything away from this hearty side dish. This savory salad consisted of basically a BLT sandwich with arugula vinaigrette soaked pieces of bread, turkey bacon, avocado, and tomatoes. It’s definitely a salad for those who don’t love traditional salads, i.e. healthy ones. As for the sandwich, it wasn’t anything of note. Yes, it was fresh and handmade, but I’ve had a caprese sandwich before. I’d like to try one of their other more noteworthy creations the next time we’re in town. Once we downed our amazing meal, we bade Amber and Ellie farewell (but not forever) and made our way to our airBnB. We donned our finest duds and Uber-ed over to the picturesque Coronado golf club for the bride and groom’s rehearsal dinner. While we were wasting time before everyone showed up, we played some Pokemon Go, and I got caught in the act. Eventually, both families and their friends arrived, and we had to stop being antisocial. It was a great night meeting Janice’s friends from long ago, the bride’s giant family, and eventually bonding with a good number of the younger folks of the wedding party going around catching Pokemon. Also, the food and drink was phenomenal. We went to the restaurant that catered the event on our last day, so I’ll save my review for that post. It was such a great time overall, in fact, we stayed until the staff kicked us out of the clubhouse. If this first day was any indication of how the rest of our visit in San Diego was going to transpire, I couldn’t wait for the big day tomorrow! Stay tuned for part 2…

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Posted in Beverages, Chain Restaurants, Health Food, Non-Alcoholic and tagged avocado, bacon, beans, Beverages, bread, cilantro, dining, edamame, Food, Lemonade, omelet, restaurant, Reviews, salad, San Diego, Sandwich, sauce, soy, spicy, sweet, Travel. Bookmark the permalink.

South Carolina (Day 4)- Gettin’ Our Kicks with Nana (Nana’s Seafood, Kickin’ Chicken)

Posted on August 1, 2016 by Mark T

Finally, I have arrived at the terminus of our South Carolina adventure and not a moment too soon (six months later). Welcome back to Mastication Monologues where I spread the word of both good food and great times! This post is the final installment in one of my travel series, and this one was not lacking in terms of major events. From eating at one of the finest restaurants in the Southern United States to finally asking the love of my life to be with me for ever and ever, it was an exhilarating journey from beginning to end.

So, we began our final day in the Holy City with a walking tour around Charleston’s downtown area. We bided our time looking around the gift shop which boasted plenty of Charleston’s signature golden rice and colonial porcelain, but eventually we found our tour guide, Michael Trouche. He was in charge of Charleston Footprints Touring Company, and we would highly recommend them if you’re looking for a very informative and affordable tour of the town from a Charlestonian whose family has been there since its founding. We learned many interesting tidbits about the houses we otherwise would have walked past none the wiser.

Oldest house in Charleston from the 1600s

He took us from the waterfront, to the intimate streets where scenes from Porgy and Bess took their inspirations, to even his family’s home that was huge yet still had that antiquated Southern charm. He even showed us the house where Francis Marion, the real life planter and politician who Mel Gibson portrayed in the movie the Patriot, jumped from a third story balcony to the street below because he was embarrassed that he couldn’t toast to beginning a rebellion against their British overlords. Why? Because Marion was a teetotaler. Even though he didn’t drink, he still managed to have fun by some how escaping the party with a broken leg on a horse and then waging a successful guerrilla war against the Crown’s troops during the war. The most eye catching of the waterfront properties was Rainbow Row (not Road, Mario Kart fans). These Georgian style buildings were originally bustling warehouses and storefronts, but they fell into disrepute once the Charleston economy was devastated by the Civil War. However, in the 1920s they were redone with Caribbean flair in the form of their present day colorful facades. Not only do they look pretty, but they keep the buildings cool in the sweltering summers thanks to their chromatic appearances. We also got a taste of local business as we stopped into a local antique store that had everything from paintings to moonshine and of course Janice made friends with the resident poochy!

Just a little excited

As our tour came to an end, we had worked up a mighty hunger, and I insisted that we should try Nana’s Seafood and Soul Takeout. I read that it had some of the best and most affordable seafood in the Lowcountry, and it lived up to the hype and then some. It’s actually such a small place we drove past it at first and had to back it up to make sure it was the right storefront. When we walked in, it was a much different crowd than we encountered in most of the other restaurants in Charleston. First, it was simply decorated, and it could only seat maybe 10-12 people, 20 if you really wanted to sit cheek to jowl with your fellow diners. Second, it was exclusively African American in terms of patrons and staff aside from us, but us integrating the place didn’t stop us from having a wonderful time there. They have mainly seafood options along with some classic chicken wings and sides for rock bottom prices and generous portions. Need I say more? Janice also asked if they had their famous garlic blue crabs ($18) that they only serve when they receive them which isn’t very frequently. As for me, I purchased their shrimp and oysters ($12). We also talked with the owner who took our order which was a nice touch not found in many other restaurants in the US. Once we put in our orders, we took a seat at one of the small formica topped tables right next to a group of alumni from historically black fraternities and sororities and soaked in the atmosphere. Our meals came out in carry out styrofoam containers even though we were dining in which already was a signal to me that we were in for a treat. Janice opened hers first, and was greeted with a mountain of blue crabs which would be at least double in any other more touristy restaurant in downtown Charleston. My shrimp and oyster lunch had a bit more variety with my crustaceans and bivalves being of the fried variety. All of which didn’t surprise me since we were in the Dirty South, but the real rarity that came with this kind of food was the surprisingly green and fresh salad that accompanied my seafood. Plus, I would have expected maybe some dirty rice or a helping of collard greens, but that Nana always keeps you guessing! While we got down to business with our food, it was only the beginning of the Trump train where he was quoting the Bible and acting like a Christian who loves all people. Funny enough, it was Martin Luther King Jr. Day when we visited, and it was funny to see that everyone in that establishment, regardless of color, knew that Trump was talking nonsense. Hopefully that spirit carries into November this year. Politics aside, the food was mouthwateringly good and aesthetically pleasing. The breading on my shrimp was very light and not greasy at all, but I don’t think the oysters went too well with the fried batter since they were runnier and didn’t lend themself to being fried to perfection. I think crab or maybe the scallops would have been a better choice. The fries I forgot to mention kept the “heart healthy” meal keep on going, and I tried to insert some green salad between each fried mouthful. I think my heart was still beating by the end compliments of the lettuce and cucumbers. Let me say that don’t think I was going to get too healthy on this trip because we shared a cup of potato salad ($2). It was perfectly made with diced potatoes, plenty of mayo, and just a right amount of paprika on top. Then there was Janice’s meal. Talk about having to work for your supper. I never had fresh crab out of the shell before this visit, so Janice was the Master Yoda to my Luke.

Skilled she is

Once I got the hang of it, I found the savory and garlickly meat to be worth the work. If they have these armor plated morsels available, I’d highly recommend them. Unfortunately, with pride comes one downfall as Janice was having trouble with a particular leg section. So I thought I could break the shell with my fingers, which I did, but much to my chagrin the crab also sliced my thumb open. So, I went into the bathroom in the back of the restaurant which was the definition of bare bones, but there was at least soap and water to wash the wound off. However, we didn’t have a bandaid, so the owner ran out to her car and got me one. Now that’s some Southern hospitality! We actually managed to polish off our meals, and we were off to see some last highlights of Charleston.

Pretty she is

Like a boss!

We left Nana’s with great memories, full stomachs, and a “See y’all later!”. We moved beyond the city to the Sullivan Island beach which was covered with plenty of dead starfish for some reason. Even though it was an all you can eat bonanza for the seagulls, it didn’t ruin the pristene beach on our perfect vacation as a newly engaged couple. We also went to Fort Moultrie which was originally made of palmetto palm trees during the American Revolution. Thanks to the supple nature of these native trees, the British naval cannonballs literally bounced off the walls of the rebel-defended fort. Hence, today we have the nickname of South Carolina, “The Palmetto State”. It was not the wooden version I was expecting, rather how the fort looked circa World War II when our servicemen had to watch out for those pesky U-boats. It was an ok experience looking out over the water and walking through the creepy underground bunkers, but its not something to go out of your way for unless you’re really into history like yours truly. Our final bite to eat was at a local chain nearby our Air BnB called the Kickin’ Chicken.

Somebody’s excited!

It’s like your typical laid back sit down restaurant with a focus on all things poultry with a Southern twist. We went quite early for dinner, so the place wasn’t too kickin’. The menu had a mix of bar food and Southern American classics like chicken and waffles. We were more interested in their signature Kickin’ sandwiches. Janice got the namesake sandwich ($9), and I got the Santa Fe Wrap ($9). Clearly, the prices weren’t anything ridiculous, but we also weren’t going to go overboard since we were still stuffed from Nana’s before. When our plates came out, we weren’t that impressed. Janice’s was kind of bland with average bacon, a moderate amount of provolone cheese, and not the best chicken we had during the trip. My Santa Fe wrap was a bit of a let down too. It did bring the flavors of the Southwest alive with the inclusion of Tex Mex ingredients like peppers, salsa, onions, cheese, and the jalapeno cheddar wrap, but just barely above flat line. Perhaps we would have been better off ordering the more bar food-esque options because these sandwiches left us wanting. Once again it proved that small, family owned businesses are typically provide better quality and priced food and drinks. Although it was the last impression we had of Charleston, it did not leave a sour taste in our mouth because it was drowned out with the great memories we made together on the road to many more in the future.

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Posted in American Cuisine, Burgers, Chain Restaurants, Chicken Wings, Comfort Food and tagged beach, Charleston, chicken, crab, deep fried, dining, Food, fort, Fries, oysters, peppers, restaurant, Reviews, salad, salsa, Sandwich, sauce, shrimp, South Carolina, Travel. Bookmark the permalink.

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.

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.

Mastication Monologues

Tag Archives: sauce

Temenaks in Tenerife (Day 3: Whistling for Cookies; La Gomera)

Temenaks in Tenerife (Day 2: Cannonballs and Cuttlefish)

Temenaks in Tenerife (Day 1: Noche de San Juan, Sunset Cruise)

Whatever Floats Your Goat (Duck Duck Goat)

San Diego (Day 3): A Sweet Sendoff (Il Fornaio and Phil’s BBQ)

San Diego (Day 1): I’m Going Back, Back To Cali (Yankee Pier, Lemonade)

South Carolina (Day 4)- Gettin’ Our Kicks with Nana (Nana’s Seafood, Kickin’ Chicken)

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

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

Nice to Meat You!

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