www.shakeshack.com
Dare I be so bold? But Shake Shack is supposed to be the best thing since sliced hamburger buns!
It's just ok. It's only worth going there if you think you have to try it because you're an extremely handsome food blogger and you've read about it for years and even saw Danny Meyer interviewed on Plum TV by Jonathan Tisch (a fellow Jumbo, btw). He seems like a lovely fellow. Danny, not Jonathan. Jonathan is probably kind of a dick. I just get that impression.
Anyway, I must admit to having an aversion to the whole idea of "the critic." This guy, Danny Meyer, is a doer, and I feel bad criticizing him. He makes stuff and he does stuff. People who consider the product valuable can spend their hard earned dollars on it. I'm just typing away, no sweat involved, no capital investment, no risk. It's easy to criticize. It's a lot harder to start a restaurant, hire lots of people, deal with payroll, slip and fall lawsuits, contractors, inventory, etc. Seriously, why does anyone get into that business?
On the other hand, I do think that it makes sense to have trustworthy people to give you advice about the things on which you spend those dollars. It's just that I have a hard time being too critical of a restaurant unless I have had a really lousy experience.
That's why I give practically every restaurant I review an "Eat It" designation. And since those aren't particularly interesting to read, I tend to throw in a silly statement about a certain restaurant located on West Avenue on South Beach that likes to put dry ice in a martini glass and consider that justification for a $30 price tag. Excuse me, I just checked on line and their martinis cost $32 (plus tax and tip). I was waaay off.
So, as I was saying earlier, Shake Shack is just ok. It's not as good as 8 oz. or Burger and Beer Joint. And I don't think it's even as good as Steak n Shake or Johnny Rockets. Someone who tells you otherwise is probably pretentious and thinks that the Shake Shack burger is better because other people that they think are really cool told them that Shake Shack is, like, the bomb, yo!
I will hand it to them that the place is fairly well run. The food takes a little longer to prepare than I expected, but the restaurant is tidy and the employees are conscientious and polite. That's a luxury in South Florida, as we all know. They hand you a buzzer after you place your order and you can go and find your seats until they alert you. The seats are just stools, though. Pretty uncomfortable, Shake Shack!
This part is going to sound a little weird. I went to Shake Shack twice last week. That might seem contradictory to my review, were you not privy to the fact that, before my first visit, someone lit a plant on fire in my vicinity that may have had an effect on me when I breathed in. That effect made evaluating the dining experience something of a challenge, and I felt the need to return to have a more lucid night.
In case you've never watched Kat Stevens, please enjoy this clip -
Oops, that was Cat Stevens, and I actually meant to say Kat Williams -
So, I didn't think I had a proper frame of reference from which to review Shake Shack the first time. When a friend of mine, whose name sort of rhymes with "Tall Umbrella," asked me if I wanted to meet him there for a bite 3 days after my first foray, I agreed to give the place another shot.
Let's talk about ambiance. This is one of the coolest-looking fast food spots in which you will ever eat. The tables are made out of re-purposed bowling alley wood, which is actually kind of gross, come to think of it, but it looks cool. I hope they heat it up really hot so all of the germs from people's hands and bowling balls are killed. I'm all for finding new uses for old stuff, since I hate waste and think recycling should be done in spite of its cost (I'm looking at you, Mayor Bloomberg). We can't keep throwing everything out and turning the entire planet into a garbage dump. Do you know about the Pacific Gyre? It's a mass of plastic the size of Texas and it just swirls around in a huge, expanding mass, like something evil you'd see in a Star Trek movie that grows when you shoot photon torpedoes at it. They did that in one of them, didn't they? Maybe I'm thinking of the Fifth Element. That's probably the best movie of all time that's not actually very good.
The walls have a similar look as the eating surfaces. Darkened bowling alley wood, kind of zigzagging along the walls. There are some hanging plants up near the ceiling. It's laid out so the line doesn't get in the way of the diners. There's some outdoor seating that'll be nice when it cools down in November. I didn't check out the bathrooms, come to think of it...
The food. Shake Shack is supposed to have great burgers and shakes. People in NYC line up around the block to taste them. Well, I don't get why they do. The Shack Burger is just a normal burger. It's like 5 bucks, which isn't bad, but the Double is 8 bucks. I got the double the first time, because I knew that the single wouldn't be enough food, but it costs so much more than the single that it's a better deal to just buy two singles. The second time I ate there, I decided to try the Shack Stack, which is a single burger with a portobello mushroom stacked on top of the beef patty. It's a combination of their classic burger and their veggie option. It would probably be pretty good, but for the fact that it's a deep-fried portobello. And it was too greasy and overwhelmed the taste of the meat. I'd pass on that one.
The fries. Oh my, the fries. They are terrible.
At first I thought that their potato man must have broken down on the way from Brooklyn, or something. That reminds me of a clip from the Simpsons when Homer had to sneak into a U2 concert -
So, back to the potato man. I assumed that he must not have delivered his special Shake Shack french fry potatoes because they seemed to be serving crinkly McCain french fries that you could buy in the freezer section at the supermarket. Well, it turns out that those are their fries. It offends me as a food snob to have them served to me at a place that claims to be serving exceptional food.
The milkshake just tasted like melted vanilla ice cream, which isn't bad, per se, but it's nothing about which to get excited (like a shake at Steak n Shake!). And it was too expensive. A rather small one costs $5.25.
The location is great. No doubt about that. It's just off Lincoln Road, a block from the movie theater.
With all of these things in mind, I've come up with an idea for a kind of "super fast food restaurant." It's a little like Voltron or those Ocean's Eleven movies. You take the decor and location of Shake Shack, serve In n Out burgers, Steak n Shake shakes, McDonald's fries, and staff the place with waitresses from Lucky Strike. It'll make billions (assuming we end up with hyperinflation after this second round of quantitative easing by the Fed, this is almost a certainty).
In closing, it'll cost you about 20 bucks if you're a decent eater, and it's not good enough to justify that kind of price. My advice is to go somewhere else for your burger.
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
Eat It - Hattie's, 45 Phila Street, Saratoga Springs, NY, 518-584-4790
www.hattiesrestaurant.com
Some of my readers might get annoyed by my posting from the Empire State, but that should be a small percentage, since everyone's from New York. My girlfriend is no longer surprised to hear of people's New York and Upstate New York roots that are so common in South Florida.
You might think that this says something negative about New York, like the people want to get out of there and that makes it a bad place, but I think it's mostly the weather that causes New Yorkers to flee the state. That and taxes. It's different in, say, Boston, where people like the place itself, but dislike the miserable people. You don't hear of Bostonians going to places en masse and meeting all of the other lovely people from Boston. They tend to spread out to L.A. or Chicago or South Carolina, hoping to be the lone Bostonian who really "deserves" to wear a Red Sox hat. Not like all of those bandwagoners. Come to think of it, most of them talk about moving to those places, but never actually do it. I hope I don't hurt the feelings of any of my Beantown buddies. I love you guys. You know that. But you're miserable bastards.
Now, New Yorkers, on the other hand, are quite happy to be around New Yorkers. It's just that the winter is really long, and the state government insists on squeezing every penny out of its residents. I could be wrong, but I'm just gonna go with it. I'm sure the fact that I'm from New York and hate all Boston sports teams with a passion has absolutely nothing to do with it. But I do genuinely think that people in New York state are easier going and just plain nicer than those just east of us on I-90.
Moving along. Last summer, I became obsessed with watching the Food Network, and this was detrimental to my sleep patterns because I was constantly staying up really late to watch reruns of Iron Chef and Bobby Flay's show, "Throwdown." Both of these programs have a winner and a loser at the conclusion of the show, so you really want to see them through to the end for some closure. Yes, I just used the word "closure."
Anyway, I bring it up because Bobby Flay visited a restaurant called Hattie's in Saratoga Springs, NY in one of those episodes, and, as I mentioned in the last post, I happen to be taking some courses at Skidmore College right now. On Monday, I visited PJ's BBQ, which I'll review in the next couple of days, and today I ran over to Hattie's after class. Hattie's is famous for its fried chicken, and that's what Bobby Flay challenged them on.
I thought I'd never been there, but as soon as I walked through the front door, I realized that I had. I think maybe 2 or 3 summers ago, I went there with my oldest brother and a bunch of his friends. The reason I had sort of forgotten about the episode was that we got really drunk while we were eating dinner. I don't know if you've done that lately, but a rich dinner with fried chicken, along with lots of cocktails (I believe we were drinking mojitos long before I instituted my "don't order mojitos outside of Miami" rule), can lead to a rather uncomfortable type of fullness/sleepiness/nausea. *My brother has confirmed that we ate there in 2007. We asked the waitress if we could substitute mojitos for salad in our dinner orders. I think we both threw up that night. He definitely did. I probably did. Anyway, that is not meant as an indictment of the food at Hattie's. It was caused by excessive drinking that Irish brothers do when they're together. We're only a quarter Irish, but the drinking gene is a strong one, like pale skin.
As usual, you are probably wondering when I'm going to write about the food. Have you not figured out that the ostensible subject of this blog is simply a delivery system for my sardonic rants? You fools! AHAHAHAHAHAAAA. So let's get it over with.
Hattie's has been in business since 1938. You should read the "About" section of the website to learn some more about its interesting history. It could be more well-written, but the content is decent. Some white people bought it at some point, since Hattie was born in Louisiana around 1900 and is probably dead by now. I assume it was those same white people who have trademarked her name.
It was funny to eat in a sit-down restaurant all by myself. I could have just sat at the bar, but I was given a table on the patio out back. I haven't done that in a while and the reactions that people have to it are funny. The waitress seemed like she felt really sorry for me to be eating alone. I just wanted to eat and go back to Skidmore to work out, since class is from 1-4, just early enough that I have not eaten lunch before class, and late enough to screw up my timing of lunch, gym and dinner. It was around 5 and I was sort of appalled by the fact that people were coming in for dinner at the time. I was eating lunch, goddammit.
So, I had the fried chicken, of course. Not the best thing to eat before a work out. But it sure was good going down. Crispy, peppery, juicy. Everything you want in a piece of fried chicken, and they give you half a chicken, which for most people should be enough for a meal and a little leftover for a late night snack.
As I sat there, eating in solitude, I was struck by how nice it was to focus on the flavors and not be chit-chatting about some stupid gossip. I've been hearing a lot of that lately, having forgotten that the official hobby of every resident of the Capital District is gossip. It's petty and annoying and people shouldn't do it. I might be a critical son-of-a-gun, but I am not a gossip. Why do I want to hear all of that negative stuff about a friend of mine just so you can make yourself feel better about how screwed up YOU are? So, as I was saying, I was sitting there taking in the delicious flavors set out before me, when I was reminded of a phrase that they use in the Middle East. The grease from the chicken was all over my fingers and I thought "I could eat my fingers right now." In the Middle East, they'll say that food is so good that you want to eat your fingers. I think that's a great saying.
There are a few sides to choose from, and the ones I ordered were cranberry coleslaw and mashed potatoes. The coleslaw was amazing. Best I've ever had. Perfectly balanced between tartness and freshness. I find that coleslaw tends to be either too vinegary or too dry, and in the latter case, it just tastes like cabbage. That's no fun. The mashed potatoes were creamy but had some character in the chunks of potato that remained. I like that. They also give you a piece of cornbread AND a biscuit. Man, that meal must have been soooo unhealthy. But it was so good. Everything came out piping hot. Except the coleslaw, of course.
If you're ever in town, it's a great place to stop. I got all of that food for like 20 bucks, by the way.
Some of my readers might get annoyed by my posting from the Empire State, but that should be a small percentage, since everyone's from New York. My girlfriend is no longer surprised to hear of people's New York and Upstate New York roots that are so common in South Florida.
You might think that this says something negative about New York, like the people want to get out of there and that makes it a bad place, but I think it's mostly the weather that causes New Yorkers to flee the state. That and taxes. It's different in, say, Boston, where people like the place itself, but dislike the miserable people. You don't hear of Bostonians going to places en masse and meeting all of the other lovely people from Boston. They tend to spread out to L.A. or Chicago or South Carolina, hoping to be the lone Bostonian who really "deserves" to wear a Red Sox hat. Not like all of those bandwagoners. Come to think of it, most of them talk about moving to those places, but never actually do it. I hope I don't hurt the feelings of any of my Beantown buddies. I love you guys. You know that. But you're miserable bastards.
Now, New Yorkers, on the other hand, are quite happy to be around New Yorkers. It's just that the winter is really long, and the state government insists on squeezing every penny out of its residents. I could be wrong, but I'm just gonna go with it. I'm sure the fact that I'm from New York and hate all Boston sports teams with a passion has absolutely nothing to do with it. But I do genuinely think that people in New York state are easier going and just plain nicer than those just east of us on I-90.
Moving along. Last summer, I became obsessed with watching the Food Network, and this was detrimental to my sleep patterns because I was constantly staying up really late to watch reruns of Iron Chef and Bobby Flay's show, "Throwdown." Both of these programs have a winner and a loser at the conclusion of the show, so you really want to see them through to the end for some closure. Yes, I just used the word "closure."
Anyway, I bring it up because Bobby Flay visited a restaurant called Hattie's in Saratoga Springs, NY in one of those episodes, and, as I mentioned in the last post, I happen to be taking some courses at Skidmore College right now. On Monday, I visited PJ's BBQ, which I'll review in the next couple of days, and today I ran over to Hattie's after class. Hattie's is famous for its fried chicken, and that's what Bobby Flay challenged them on.
I thought I'd never been there, but as soon as I walked through the front door, I realized that I had. I think maybe 2 or 3 summers ago, I went there with my oldest brother and a bunch of his friends. The reason I had sort of forgotten about the episode was that we got really drunk while we were eating dinner. I don't know if you've done that lately, but a rich dinner with fried chicken, along with lots of cocktails (I believe we were drinking mojitos long before I instituted my "don't order mojitos outside of Miami" rule), can lead to a rather uncomfortable type of fullness/sleepiness/nausea. *My brother has confirmed that we ate there in 2007. We asked the waitress if we could substitute mojitos for salad in our dinner orders. I think we both threw up that night. He definitely did. I probably did. Anyway, that is not meant as an indictment of the food at Hattie's. It was caused by excessive drinking that Irish brothers do when they're together. We're only a quarter Irish, but the drinking gene is a strong one, like pale skin.
As usual, you are probably wondering when I'm going to write about the food. Have you not figured out that the ostensible subject of this blog is simply a delivery system for my sardonic rants? You fools! AHAHAHAHAHAAAA. So let's get it over with.
Hattie's has been in business since 1938. You should read the "About" section of the website to learn some more about its interesting history. It could be more well-written, but the content is decent. Some white people bought it at some point, since Hattie was born in Louisiana around 1900 and is probably dead by now. I assume it was those same white people who have trademarked her name.
It was funny to eat in a sit-down restaurant all by myself. I could have just sat at the bar, but I was given a table on the patio out back. I haven't done that in a while and the reactions that people have to it are funny. The waitress seemed like she felt really sorry for me to be eating alone. I just wanted to eat and go back to Skidmore to work out, since class is from 1-4, just early enough that I have not eaten lunch before class, and late enough to screw up my timing of lunch, gym and dinner. It was around 5 and I was sort of appalled by the fact that people were coming in for dinner at the time. I was eating lunch, goddammit.
So, I had the fried chicken, of course. Not the best thing to eat before a work out. But it sure was good going down. Crispy, peppery, juicy. Everything you want in a piece of fried chicken, and they give you half a chicken, which for most people should be enough for a meal and a little leftover for a late night snack.
As I sat there, eating in solitude, I was struck by how nice it was to focus on the flavors and not be chit-chatting about some stupid gossip. I've been hearing a lot of that lately, having forgotten that the official hobby of every resident of the Capital District is gossip. It's petty and annoying and people shouldn't do it. I might be a critical son-of-a-gun, but I am not a gossip. Why do I want to hear all of that negative stuff about a friend of mine just so you can make yourself feel better about how screwed up YOU are? So, as I was saying, I was sitting there taking in the delicious flavors set out before me, when I was reminded of a phrase that they use in the Middle East. The grease from the chicken was all over my fingers and I thought "I could eat my fingers right now." In the Middle East, they'll say that food is so good that you want to eat your fingers. I think that's a great saying.
There are a few sides to choose from, and the ones I ordered were cranberry coleslaw and mashed potatoes. The coleslaw was amazing. Best I've ever had. Perfectly balanced between tartness and freshness. I find that coleslaw tends to be either too vinegary or too dry, and in the latter case, it just tastes like cabbage. That's no fun. The mashed potatoes were creamy but had some character in the chunks of potato that remained. I like that. They also give you a piece of cornbread AND a biscuit. Man, that meal must have been soooo unhealthy. But it was so good. Everything came out piping hot. Except the coleslaw, of course.
If you're ever in town, it's a great place to stop. I got all of that food for like 20 bucks, by the way.
Friday, June 25, 2010
Oh, Albany!
I'm an Albany native. People think it sucks, but it's actually a great town. A couple of years ago, my mother, my brothers and I had a good chuckle over a couple of lists published in Forbes (I think) on the "Least and Most Stressful Cities in the U.S.," after my father moved the family business from Loudonville (Albany suburb where Siena College is located) to Miami Beach. Most stressful: Miami-Dade. 2nd Least Stressful: Albany-Schenectady. My mother has complained pretty consistently about the move over the years, but I think she's got it pretty good now, spending winters down here and summers up there.
Albany has low crime, practically no traffic. Low divorce and suicide rates. Relatively low unemployment because everyone works for the state and can't get fired (it's the capital). But the chicks are kind of fat and people still perm their hair and wear acid wash jeans. This reminds me that I wrote an email once with a list of ways that you "might be from Albany," à la Jeff Foxworthy, after reading one that I thought was completely inaccurate to my upbringing. Of course, I grew up overlooking the first green of my country club and went to private school, but, uh, that's what I had to work with. This comes from an email that I wrote in December of 2005, just one month after moving to Miami full-time -
Given, all of us identify closely with the jokes in the attached email, especially those gems about ice fishing and camouflage, but I think a slightly more accurate version of this would go as follows-
Blah blah blah, Upstate New York:
If you’ve been in a car accident with Donna O’Higgins.
If you hate the fact that no one knows that Albany is the capital of New York.
If you went to St. Gregory’s and are now an alcoholic.
If your dad swims naked at the FOC.
If you get irritated when people assume that when you say "New York" you mean the City.
If your mother thinks driving to Crossgates Mall is really far.
If your father owns winter golf gloves.
If you own a pair of those itchy LL Bean wool socks. I hate those things.
If you have a mud room. I mean, you come in contact with so much mud that you have an entire room dedicated to it? That’s crazy.
If you think the Albany skyline is really beautiful.
If your town has one country club for every 100 residents.
If you think that El Loco is the greatest [Mexican] restaurant in the world.
If you’re a member of the LBL. (that’s just for Loudonvillians)
If you know what "all whites on Sunday" means.
If you’ve ever played paddle tennis.
If you’ve ever even heard of "paddle tennis."
If you’ve worked at Saratoga race track.
If you get all excited at the mention of ‘Albany’ during episodes of Law & Order.
If you get excited about Albany for any reason.
Yup, I'm a regular William Kennedy.
So anyway, when I saw the headline "Bar owner charged in food critic's beating" on Drudge, I immediately clicked. Once I saw that the article began "ALBANY, New York (AP)," my interest piqued. Peaked? No, piqued.
Beware, all you cantankerous critics of comestibles. And also you would-be-criminals who might consider counteracting criticism with crowbars to the cranium. Man, how do I do it? It's a gift.
Albany's most well-known food critic and blogger, the Times Union's Steve Barnes (I actually have no idea if he's really the most well-known, but I have a hunch that he is. I did meet the guy once when I was out on Lark Street with my brother and friend who owns McGuire's, and he is kind of a douche bag,), was assaulted after leaving a restaurant in Stuyvesant Plaza. He had told his readers that he would be dining at the establishment that night, and he was allegedly ambushed by some alleged thugs who were allegedly from Troy, allegedly hired by allegedly Timothy "Allegedly" Rankins. This all allegedly happened back in 2008. I think we can remove "allegedly" from Troy. They're from Troy. That's where you go to find thugs to beat people up in the Albany area.
What a great story. I feel bad for the guy who got punched in the face, but that's what happens to jerks sometimes. Other people want to punch them in their faces. That's why I never tell anyone where I'm eating in advance. Did I just call myself a jerk? Man, what a jerk. I also carry several communication devices to throw off powerful enemies that might be tracking me through email and telephonic communications. Am I texting you from Surfside, confined by the Eruv (in which case I'm probably not supposed to be using my mobile phone)? Or do I only look Jewish and am actually down on Lincoln Road rollerskating in my fuchsia speedo, sending witty BBMs to my boys? Or maybe I'm tagging a wall in Overtown with my homies, listening to Pandora on my iPhone...you'll never know, Barton G. Weiss.
I thought of a new dish you can serve at one of your stupid restaurants, by the way. "Summer Steamers." They would be littleneck clams from New England, but you eat them in a steam room. Get it? Then you'd be in a steamy place, eating steamers, and people would think "my oh my, that Barton G. is such a clever restaurateur. I hope his restaurants don't all go out of business at the same time." Of course I don't really want him to go out of business. That would be like Red Sox fans saying that they wished there were no Yankees fans or that the sun would come out once in a while so they weren't so miserable all the time. I love to hate that restaurant the way I like that most people speak English as if they never passed 2nd grade. It makes me feel intellectually superior and better about my insecure self.
In closing, I'm flying up to Albany tomorrow evening to attend the New York State Writers Institute at Skidmore. I'm taking two non-fiction workshops to hone my skillz. So, I guess what I'm saying is that all of you restaurants are totally f*****d. When I'm done I'm going to glow like Leroy from The Last Dragon-
Albany has low crime, practically no traffic. Low divorce and suicide rates. Relatively low unemployment because everyone works for the state and can't get fired (it's the capital). But the chicks are kind of fat and people still perm their hair and wear acid wash jeans. This reminds me that I wrote an email once with a list of ways that you "might be from Albany," à la Jeff Foxworthy, after reading one that I thought was completely inaccurate to my upbringing. Of course, I grew up overlooking the first green of my country club and went to private school, but, uh, that's what I had to work with. This comes from an email that I wrote in December of 2005, just one month after moving to Miami full-time -
Given, all of us identify closely with the jokes in the attached email, especially those gems about ice fishing and camouflage, but I think a slightly more accurate version of this would go as follows-
Blah blah blah, Upstate New York:
If you’ve been in a car accident with Donna O’Higgins.
If you hate the fact that no one knows that Albany is the capital of New York.
If you went to St. Gregory’s and are now an alcoholic.
If your dad swims naked at the FOC.
If you get irritated when people assume that when you say "New York" you mean the City.
If your mother thinks driving to Crossgates Mall is really far.
If your father owns winter golf gloves.
If you own a pair of those itchy LL Bean wool socks. I hate those things.
If you have a mud room. I mean, you come in contact with so much mud that you have an entire room dedicated to it? That’s crazy.
If you think the Albany skyline is really beautiful.
If your town has one country club for every 100 residents.
If you think that El Loco is the greatest [Mexican] restaurant in the world.
If you’re a member of the LBL. (that’s just for Loudonvillians)
If you know what "all whites on Sunday" means.
If you’ve ever played paddle tennis.
If you’ve ever even heard of "paddle tennis."
If you’ve worked at Saratoga race track.
If you get all excited at the mention of ‘Albany’ during episodes of Law & Order.
If you get excited about Albany for any reason.
Yup, I'm a regular William Kennedy.
So anyway, when I saw the headline "Bar owner charged in food critic's beating" on Drudge, I immediately clicked. Once I saw that the article began "ALBANY, New York (AP)," my interest piqued. Peaked? No, piqued.
Beware, all you cantankerous critics of comestibles. And also you would-be-criminals who might consider counteracting criticism with crowbars to the cranium. Man, how do I do it? It's a gift.
Albany's most well-known food critic and blogger, the Times Union's Steve Barnes (I actually have no idea if he's really the most well-known, but I have a hunch that he is. I did meet the guy once when I was out on Lark Street with my brother and friend who owns McGuire's, and he is kind of a douche bag,), was assaulted after leaving a restaurant in Stuyvesant Plaza. He had told his readers that he would be dining at the establishment that night, and he was allegedly ambushed by some alleged thugs who were allegedly from Troy, allegedly hired by allegedly Timothy "Allegedly" Rankins. This all allegedly happened back in 2008. I think we can remove "allegedly" from Troy. They're from Troy. That's where you go to find thugs to beat people up in the Albany area.
What a great story. I feel bad for the guy who got punched in the face, but that's what happens to jerks sometimes. Other people want to punch them in their faces. That's why I never tell anyone where I'm eating in advance. Did I just call myself a jerk? Man, what a jerk. I also carry several communication devices to throw off powerful enemies that might be tracking me through email and telephonic communications. Am I texting you from Surfside, confined by the Eruv (in which case I'm probably not supposed to be using my mobile phone)? Or do I only look Jewish and am actually down on Lincoln Road rollerskating in my fuchsia speedo, sending witty BBMs to my boys? Or maybe I'm tagging a wall in Overtown with my homies, listening to Pandora on my iPhone...you'll never know, Barton G. Weiss.
I thought of a new dish you can serve at one of your stupid restaurants, by the way. "Summer Steamers." They would be littleneck clams from New England, but you eat them in a steam room. Get it? Then you'd be in a steamy place, eating steamers, and people would think "my oh my, that Barton G. is such a clever restaurateur. I hope his restaurants don't all go out of business at the same time." Of course I don't really want him to go out of business. That would be like Red Sox fans saying that they wished there were no Yankees fans or that the sun would come out once in a while so they weren't so miserable all the time. I love to hate that restaurant the way I like that most people speak English as if they never passed 2nd grade. It makes me feel intellectually superior and better about my insecure self.
In closing, I'm flying up to Albany tomorrow evening to attend the New York State Writers Institute at Skidmore. I'm taking two non-fiction workshops to hone my skillz. So, I guess what I'm saying is that all of you restaurants are totally f*****d. When I'm done I'm going to glow like Leroy from The Last Dragon-
Friday, June 11, 2010
Eat It - Steak n Shake, 8701 S.W. 157th Ave, Miami, FL (305)752-2060
I might be stepping on some toes, but I am going to do a burger restaurant review, which I have done before, I think. I at least have a bunch of unfinished drafts of reviews of burger places. Oh, I remember, I definitely did one for Burger and Beer Joint.
I suppose that specialization is the key to an efficient economy, but I think it's kind of a cop-out to say you're just going to review burgers. Of course, now those guys do review other things (that they should probably not be eating, like fried chicken). Um, I don't want to be unchristian, but would it kill those guys to eat a salad once in a while? I know that the staff over at that blog looks like the kind of people whose opinions you would trust when it comes to food, and I was just told by a friend that she wanted to sponsor me like one of those children in Africa (She happens to be a huge b*tch, by the way, I mean, who would say that? She clearly has no sympathy for those poor kids. I'm not going to mention any names, though. I'll just call her Erika Blank, wait, no, Blank Estrada.), but there should be some moderation practiced every once in a while.
So, let's stop causing trouble and talk about the restaurant. I have been meaning to try Steak n Shake since college, when my buddy, Nick Brown, who grew up in Zionsville, Indiana, expressed his shock at the fact that I had never been to one. I always found the name of the place amusing, for some reason. So, I do this thing on my Blackberry where I have lists of movies to see, t-shirt ideas, restaurants to try, etc. Steak n Shake has been there for a while, and I recently was running some errands with my girlfriend, when we decided to go on a little adventure looking for one, which was much more difficult than it should have been.
According to the internet, there's one in the Hialeah Walmart, but it seems to have left. The phone number was disconnected and there was some other restaurant on the Walmart sign. I don't like to get out of my car in Hialeah, so that was as thorough an investigation as I was willing to conduct. We also didn't know that it turns out there's a new one in Hallendale, just north of Aventura Mall, and we ended up at the one in Kendall. It's actually kind of nice out there. If you look at a map, it's seriously the end of Miami. If you keep driving west, roads just start ending. Maybe in 50 years when the economy recovers and people need more homes again, they'll start building out there.
We were greeted by an extremely friendly staff. This must have something to do with the distance of the restaurant from Miami proper. It's like Publix. The further from Miami you drive, the nicer the Publix. Have you been to one in like, Sunrise? Amazing. Naples? You'd think you were living in the Truman Show. By contrast, if you go to the one in Surfside, it's like the customers have never been to a store before. They block the aisles. They take 20 items into the "10 Items or Fewer" aisle. Cars back up at the entrance to the parking lot while someone waits for an 80-year-old woman to pull out of her spot even though there's tons of parking further in. The cashier doesn't know what a credit card is. There are puddles that no one knows how to mop up (hint: use a mop). They're out of ketchup. You know, that kind of stuff.
Well, the Steak n Shake in Kendall is awesome. The waiters are super polite and speedy. They take your drink order as soon as you sit down. They check to make sure everything is ok, but not in an annoying way. The place is clean. Bathrooms are spotless. The men's room is, at least. I didn't use the ladies room.
I ordered the Double n Cheese, which was delicious, but not quite enough food for me. The patties are pretty thin, but that doesn't mean it's not a good product. So, then I ordered another one.
My girlfriend is a health nut and gets all low-fat, fake stuff like butter that's made out of yogurt (which makes it not butter, by the way) and drinks skim milk and all of that, while I prefer to eat the real deal. She was kind of horrified by the amount of food I consumed during my meal. Afterward, I looked up the nutritional information on Steak n Shake's website, and these are the numbers:
Double n Cheese: 440 calories, 25 g fat, 22 g protein (Ate 2 of those)
Reg fries: 440 calories, 21 g fat, 5 g protein (Ate 2 of those)
Mint Cookies and Cream shake: 1000 calories, 34 g fat, 22 g protein (Only had 1 of those)
So, I ate about 2500 calories or so, given that she had some of the fries. 126 grams of fat. Good news is that I had 76 grams of protein, give or take, so I had that going for me, which was good. Plus, since it was Mother's Day, they asked if my girlfriend was a mother, which she wasn't the last I checked, but they gave us a free bowl of ice cream anyway, which was nice. I didn’t see info for plain old ice cream.
Prices are great. The bill came to 22 bucks for the two of us, with gratuity included. And it's open 24 hours. It's a great country.
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Site News (oodles of it)
It seems like only 2 months and 3 days ago that we were celebrating our 5,000th visit. By the way, does anyone know how that differs from "page views?" I guess I can go look that up on the Internet. Good old Internet. Beep boop bop beep, 100110001111000. Sorry, that was a little something for Netty, as I like to call her.
Well, yippy (!), someone from the "Live Free or Die" state is now number 6,000. [for my South Florida readers, that's New Hampshire. It's up north. Don't worry about it.] Anyway, keep those visits coming/clicking on my banner ads. I don't expect to actually make money from this blog, even though I have gotten some freelance writing gigs from it, so I already have made money from it, but I really want to hit the $100 mark so I can get a check from Google. I think I'm at like 50 bucks, but this site has only been up for like 3 years, so that's pretty good. That works out to about 5 cents a day. Better than schlepping a soda can to the grocery store, eh? Eh? Anyway, once I receive said check, I will take a photo of it and post it on this site. I promise not to photoshop it so that it looks like $30,000, while I post ads that I can teach people how to make thousands of dollars from blogging. I promise.
What else? I recently dined at Zuma, the new contemporary Japanese restaurant in the Epic building downtown, during its soft opening. I once again must note a conflict of interest in that I am now friends with Zuma's sommelier, and that I cannot give a full, unbiased review. All I will say is that the place is amazing. The service is professional, the decor is super cool, the view is a nice one of the Miami river (not being sarcastic), the cocktails are creative and delicious, and the food's basically perfect. It was so good that I insisted on trying a few bites of seafood and then had to deal with a hive/acne breakout for 2 days since I am still allergic, it seems. It was totally worth it since I didn't die. It was hilarious that only the women at the table were worried. The guys were all just like "dude, if you want to kill yourself eating seafood, that's your decision." Guys are so awesome.
I will note that Zuma is in the higher price range of restaurants in Miami. Of course, since it started in London (hint: one reviewer there called prices "stratospheric"), they probably snicker to themselves about how cheap it is. "Twenty quid fer a tuner and wasabi roll, ya say? You 'ave got to be kiddin', mate!" I don't remember what any of the actual prices were, since I didn't open the menu before the waiter took them away to order for the table, but I do remember the total on the practice bill they presented to us, which we would have been responsible to pay, had the restaurant been officially open. That would have been about 160 or 170 per person, drinks and tip included. So, that's about as expensive a dining experience as you will encounter in Miami. I guess I said that already. It's hard to stress how awesome it was that we didn't have to pay. We left a large tip, though, so it wasn't, like, free free.
I can confidently say that Zuma will be the hot spot in Miami for a while. VIP/celeb stuff will be going on for the next couple of weeks. I'm not expecting the Jersey Shoreans to be there, though. They're more "Barton G" people. Maybe those guys can even name a dish in their honor. Oh, this is just too easy. It could be called "Snooki," and it would obviously be snook, duh, blackened (tanned) and sprinkled with imitation gold leaf. It might be served in, oh, let's say a toy dump truck, in honor of New Jersey's proud reputation as New York's dump. And served with a six-pack of beer. And the six pack would be wearing sunglasses. How clever would that be? I think Barton G should probably hire me as a consultant what with all of these amazing dishes I keep coming up with for them. I am kidding about all of that, by the way. Totally kidding. Ha ha. Jokes are funny. And also, fun times are fun. Don't forget that.
Last thing for now - I'm going to be judging a cooking competition in Boca this weekend, sponsored by Cadillac. I don't know if I can just start inviting people, but check the event out here. Ok, just read the event description and anyone can go. I will be dining at the Capital Grille beforehand and test-driving cars afterward. Is it just me, or does this seem like prime tummy ache potential? And by the way, how awesome is it that stuff like this goes on while we're in the midst of the Great Recession/Not-So-Great Depression (your choice)? It's a great country. This event could only be improved if there were a shooting range where one could test out a machine gun or bazooka or tank or predator drone. And maybe my girlfriend cheering me on in a USA bikini.
Well, yippy (!), someone from the "Live Free or Die" state is now number 6,000. [for my South Florida readers, that's New Hampshire. It's up north. Don't worry about it.] Anyway, keep those visits coming/clicking on my banner ads. I don't expect to actually make money from this blog, even though I have gotten some freelance writing gigs from it, so I already have made money from it, but I really want to hit the $100 mark so I can get a check from Google. I think I'm at like 50 bucks, but this site has only been up for like 3 years, so that's pretty good. That works out to about 5 cents a day. Better than schlepping a soda can to the grocery store, eh? Eh? Anyway, once I receive said check, I will take a photo of it and post it on this site. I promise not to photoshop it so that it looks like $30,000, while I post ads that I can teach people how to make thousands of dollars from blogging. I promise.
What else? I recently dined at Zuma, the new contemporary Japanese restaurant in the Epic building downtown, during its soft opening. I once again must note a conflict of interest in that I am now friends with Zuma's sommelier, and that I cannot give a full, unbiased review. All I will say is that the place is amazing. The service is professional, the decor is super cool, the view is a nice one of the Miami river (not being sarcastic), the cocktails are creative and delicious, and the food's basically perfect. It was so good that I insisted on trying a few bites of seafood and then had to deal with a hive/acne breakout for 2 days since I am still allergic, it seems. It was totally worth it since I didn't die. It was hilarious that only the women at the table were worried. The guys were all just like "dude, if you want to kill yourself eating seafood, that's your decision." Guys are so awesome.
I will note that Zuma is in the higher price range of restaurants in Miami. Of course, since it started in London (hint: one reviewer there called prices "stratospheric"), they probably snicker to themselves about how cheap it is. "Twenty quid fer a tuner and wasabi roll, ya say? You 'ave got to be kiddin', mate!" I don't remember what any of the actual prices were, since I didn't open the menu before the waiter took them away to order for the table, but I do remember the total on the practice bill they presented to us, which we would have been responsible to pay, had the restaurant been officially open. That would have been about 160 or 170 per person, drinks and tip included. So, that's about as expensive a dining experience as you will encounter in Miami. I guess I said that already. It's hard to stress how awesome it was that we didn't have to pay. We left a large tip, though, so it wasn't, like, free free.
I can confidently say that Zuma will be the hot spot in Miami for a while. VIP/celeb stuff will be going on for the next couple of weeks. I'm not expecting the Jersey Shoreans to be there, though. They're more "Barton G" people. Maybe those guys can even name a dish in their honor. Oh, this is just too easy. It could be called "Snooki," and it would obviously be snook, duh, blackened (tanned) and sprinkled with imitation gold leaf. It might be served in, oh, let's say a toy dump truck, in honor of New Jersey's proud reputation as New York's dump. And served with a six-pack of beer. And the six pack would be wearing sunglasses. How clever would that be? I think Barton G should probably hire me as a consultant what with all of these amazing dishes I keep coming up with for them. I am kidding about all of that, by the way. Totally kidding. Ha ha. Jokes are funny. And also, fun times are fun. Don't forget that.
Last thing for now - I'm going to be judging a cooking competition in Boca this weekend, sponsored by Cadillac. I don't know if I can just start inviting people, but check the event out here. Ok, just read the event description and anyone can go. I will be dining at the Capital Grille beforehand and test-driving cars afterward. Is it just me, or does this seem like prime tummy ache potential? And by the way, how awesome is it that stuff like this goes on while we're in the midst of the Great Recession/Not-So-Great Depression (your choice)? It's a great country. This event could only be improved if there were a shooting range where one could test out a machine gun or bazooka or tank or predator drone. And maybe my girlfriend cheering me on in a USA bikini.
Friday, May 7, 2010
Eat It - The Palm, 9650 East Bay Harbor Drive, Bay Harbor Islands, FL 305-868-7256
www.thepalm.com
The Palm is a classic, old fashioned steakhouse. That's all it is. It's not Joe's. It's not Michael's. It's just a boring old steakhouse. You know what, though? It's still pretty awesome.
So, as friends and family know, I have sort of a punctuality problem. A chronic condition is more like it. "Colin," you're saying to yourself, "nice alliteration." Thank you, I agree.
Moo-ving along, my typical tardiness (thank you, again) led my angry dad to call while I was still en route to the restaurant and ask what I wanted to order. I replied that he should just order me whatever it was that he was having. Our friend and business associate, he and I all had the Prime Aged New York Strip. The Empire Steak, if you will. Man, I'm good.
You might be asking yourself "Colin, I mean, uh, whatever my names is, I forget, what makes a steak 'prime' and what's the big deal?"
Well, obviously, any time you have a question that relates to how the USDA designates grades of beef, you go to www.beefgrading.org. Moo, I mean, duh. Prime is the best because it's the most tender steak. It has the highest amount of marbeling (Kobe beef is the most extreme version of this delicious phenomenon, but it's not American. Lots of restaurants will lie to you when they tell you that they are serving it, by the way. True story.) and it is the youngest. These factors combine to create the most enjoyable eating experience. That's awesome assonance, right there. Enough grammatical snobbery.
The steak was perfect. Perfect. No other way to put it. Perfectly cooked to medium rare. Full of flavor. Great texture. We ordered broccoli and french fries as our sides. Also perfect.
Ah, but there is usually something wrong with the dining experience. And here it is. The waiter, the most tan gentleman I have ever seen in my life, like, tanner than Vijay Singh (and kudos to him if he manages to die of old age rather than skin cancer, the waiter, not Vijay) started pushing their stupid loyalty club, and after grabbing the pamphlet, he sat down at the table with us. I don't know if I'm out of line in feeling this way, but I think that that is just about the most obnoxious thing that a waiter can do. If a Hooters girl wants to sit on my lap, who am I to stop her? But that's different. Because of the boobs involved. I think that makes sense. But in general, I think that sitting at the table with us, especially without even asking if we mind, is akin to my getting up and walking into the restaurant kitchen to grab something out of the fridge. Maybe I'm just being a jerk.
I'd like to end on a high note, though. LAAAAAAAAAA. That was corny, sorry. Really, here goes the high note -
The restaurant...
is walking distance...
from Dexter's apartment.
The Palm is a classic, old fashioned steakhouse. That's all it is. It's not Joe's. It's not Michael's. It's just a boring old steakhouse. You know what, though? It's still pretty awesome.
So, as friends and family know, I have sort of a punctuality problem. A chronic condition is more like it. "Colin," you're saying to yourself, "nice alliteration." Thank you, I agree.
Moo-ving along, my typical tardiness (thank you, again) led my angry dad to call while I was still en route to the restaurant and ask what I wanted to order. I replied that he should just order me whatever it was that he was having. Our friend and business associate, he and I all had the Prime Aged New York Strip. The Empire Steak, if you will. Man, I'm good.
You might be asking yourself "Colin, I mean, uh, whatever my names is, I forget, what makes a steak 'prime' and what's the big deal?"
Well, obviously, any time you have a question that relates to how the USDA designates grades of beef, you go to www.beefgrading.org. Moo, I mean, duh. Prime is the best because it's the most tender steak. It has the highest amount of marbeling (Kobe beef is the most extreme version of this delicious phenomenon, but it's not American. Lots of restaurants will lie to you when they tell you that they are serving it, by the way. True story.) and it is the youngest. These factors combine to create the most enjoyable eating experience. That's awesome assonance, right there. Enough grammatical snobbery.
The steak was perfect. Perfect. No other way to put it. Perfectly cooked to medium rare. Full of flavor. Great texture. We ordered broccoli and french fries as our sides. Also perfect.
Ah, but there is usually something wrong with the dining experience. And here it is. The waiter, the most tan gentleman I have ever seen in my life, like, tanner than Vijay Singh (and kudos to him if he manages to die of old age rather than skin cancer, the waiter, not Vijay) started pushing their stupid loyalty club, and after grabbing the pamphlet, he sat down at the table with us. I don't know if I'm out of line in feeling this way, but I think that that is just about the most obnoxious thing that a waiter can do. If a Hooters girl wants to sit on my lap, who am I to stop her? But that's different. Because of the boobs involved. I think that makes sense. But in general, I think that sitting at the table with us, especially without even asking if we mind, is akin to my getting up and walking into the restaurant kitchen to grab something out of the fridge. Maybe I'm just being a jerk.
I'd like to end on a high note, though. LAAAAAAAAAA. That was corny, sorry. Really, here goes the high note -
The restaurant...
is walking distance...
from Dexter's apartment.
*Awesome photo courtesy of Jeffrey P. Boden, as usual.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Eat It - Chacarero, 101 Arch St., Boston, MA (617) 542-0392
I know, I know, this place is wicked fah from Miami, but I'm going there for a wedding this weekend and I'm excited to have an opportunity to eat the delicious sandwich these crazy Chileans concoct. Check out the description-
Green beans and munster cheese give it that "authentic Chilean touch?" I find that hard to believe but it's certainly delicious. If you're ever in Beantown, make sure you check out this sandwich.
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Tax Relief
I saw an ad in the New Times that McDonald's is bringing back its most awesome promotion ever, just in time for Tax Day -
On April 15th, buy a Big Mac or Quarter Pounder With Cheese, and get an additional one for 1 cent. I think we all know where Jeff Boden is eating lunch on Thursday...
In case you're one of "those people" who believes what they write on Wikipedia, here is a list of alternate versions of the classic American sandwich, many of which are totally awesome -
Variants
On April 15th, buy a Big Mac or Quarter Pounder With Cheese, and get an additional one for 1 cent. I think we all know where Jeff Boden is eating lunch on Thursday...
In case you're one of "those people" who believes what they write on Wikipedia, here is a list of alternate versions of the classic American sandwich, many of which are totally awesome -
Variants
- The Mega Mac or Double Big Mac - four 1.6 oz (45.4 g) beef patties and an extra slice of cheese. Available in China, Ireland, Serbia, Japan, Turkey, Malaysia, Singapore and Thailand (known as the Double Big Mac).[6] Discontinued in Australia and New Zealand; limited availability in the United States and Canada (where it is commonly marketed under the name Double Big Mac). It is still available in one restaurant in the United Kingdom, in Manchester.
- Monster Mac - eight 1.6 oz (45.4 g) beef patties and extra cheese. Discontinued in Germany.
- the Mckinley-Mac - made with two quarter pound patties. Named after Mt. McKinley in Alaska, and sold only in that state.[8][9][10][11] Also known as the Bigger Big Mac as a limited-time offer product to celebrate the 2006 FIFA World Cup.
- In India, where the high Hindu population means that beef is not common, the Big Mac was renamed the Maharaja Mac and was originally made with lamb instead of beef; however, along with the company's other items it is now made from chicken.[12][13]
- Son of Mac - Also known as the Mini Mac or Baby Mac, a version with only one patty and no centre roll piece. It sold as a Baby Mac in New Zealand, Was sold in Australia, now discontinued. Served by some stores in the United States under the moniker "Mac Jr".
- In Israel, a special Kosher version of the Big Mac is served without cheese.
- In Japan, there was a variant with egg, called the Mega Tamago, as well as a variant with tomato (called the Mega Tomato). Both versions dropped one patty and replaced it with the respective ingredient. Now discontinued.
- In France there is a now a whole wheat bread version of the Big Mac. All other ingredients remain unchanged.
- The MacSnack Wrap, introduced in the US in 2010, is one hamburger patty with the sandwich's other standard ingredients in a tortilla wrapper.
Friday, March 26, 2010
Eat It - Tony Chan's Water Club, 1717 N. Bayshore Drive, Miami, FL 305-374-8888
http://www.tonychans.com/
You know how there are like no Asians in Miami? Sounds like the start of a joke.
-Why aren't there any Asians in Miami?
-Cause they can't pronounce Florida!
That's not terrible, for something I just came up with right on the spot. It's certainly offensive enough to be a joke. How about "they can't say Atlanta, Louisiana or Carolina, so they avoid the South all together."
Sorry, got a little carried away. Anyway, if you spend your time in the Northeast or fly over the plains to the other civilized part of our great nation, the Left Coast, then you are used to seeing lots of Asians. There are Koreans and Chinese and Vietnamese and Thais all over the place. The Japanese used to come over here but after 20 years of deflation, they don't seem to travel as much. Remember when Michael Crighton wrote "Rising Sun" and we thought the Japanese were going to buy the entire state of California? Good times. Anyway, I've said it before, but it's strange for those of us accustomed to having many Asian friends to only see them sporadically here in Miami.
Restaurant review time. You know the opening scene in "Indian Jones and the Temple of Doom" in the restaurant with the Chinese version of "Anything Goes?" That's what Tony Chan's looks like. The walls are red and there's gold and black all over the place. I don't remember seeing any, but I have to assume there are some dragons in there somewhere. The larger tables even have giant lazy susans that you could wheel diamonds and poison and antidote around on. Sorry to end a sentence with not one, but two prepositions. That is something up with which I normally do not put.
And "Tony Chan" could really be the name of a movie villain, couldn't it? Especially one that came out in the 80s. He would have a big, fake smile, and a thin mustache. He laughs maniacally, of course. You know, like the bad guy in the opening scene of The Temple of Doom.
This is the best I could do for a video clip.
This whole Indiana Jones thing got me thinking about the following topic. Is Indiana Jones as cool as James Bond? Of course not, but it made me then think that maybe Batman is a comparable American character that actors really want to play. American actors don't get to be James Bond. Oh no. Not once has an American gotten to play James Bond. (I think an American actually did play James Bond in a TV show a long time ago, but that doesn't count. That was even before that dude from Around the World in 80 Days played James Bond in the original Casino Royale, a comedy.) But at least we have Batman. But now Batman AND the Joker, and wait a minute, Commissioner Gordon, all played by non-Americans. WTF! (that stands for "what the fudge," this is a food blog, after all)
I hate to admit it, but that has very little to do with reviewing a Chinese restaurant. Oh, one more thing.
You know who did the awesome Indian Jones theme song? John Williams, of course. He's only the most awesome movie composer of all time. Star Wars, Superman, Jurassic Park, all John Williams. Basically any time you've seen a movie that has really awesome music, John Williams composed it. You know the really great theme song from Meet the Press? You guessed it. John Williams. I like to say that Michael Jordan was the John Williams of basketball.
So, I'll segue smoothly to the food at Tony Chan's. You might say that Tony Chan is the John Williams of Chinese restaurants in Miami. It really is quite good. Their specialty is Peking Duck. I feel like that's a good thing to be good at if you're a Chinese restaurant. When you order it, they remove the crispy skin right at the table and make you little duck skin pancake thingies. I'm not describing it well. You know the pancakes they give you when you order mushu pork? Those. They give you those with duck skin inside and you put plum sauce on it and it's delicious.
Once you've stuffed yourself with those, then your main course comes to finish you off. Delicious. Succulent, moist. Are those the same word? Man, if you read this you must think I'm totally insane. But this is seriously how my brain races around. I think I'm going to hit golf balls after work today, btw. Need to work on my short game like Tiger Woods needs to work on the sincerity of his apologies. Any proof you need that celebrity totally screws people up and drains them of their ability to relate to normal people is right there in that dude's blank stare.
We also ordered some chicken thing and it was great. Can't remember and I've used up my allotment of time on the Temple of Doom and Batman and James Bond and John Williams stuff. You know what, that's one theme Williams didn't come up with. James Bond theme. Not John Williams. That kind of bums me out dude.
So, wrapping things up. If you want Chinese food, go to Tony Chan's, because John Williams is an awesome composer.
You know how there are like no Asians in Miami? Sounds like the start of a joke.
-Why aren't there any Asians in Miami?
-Cause they can't pronounce Florida!
That's not terrible, for something I just came up with right on the spot. It's certainly offensive enough to be a joke. How about "they can't say Atlanta, Louisiana or Carolina, so they avoid the South all together."
Sorry, got a little carried away. Anyway, if you spend your time in the Northeast or fly over the plains to the other civilized part of our great nation, the Left Coast, then you are used to seeing lots of Asians. There are Koreans and Chinese and Vietnamese and Thais all over the place. The Japanese used to come over here but after 20 years of deflation, they don't seem to travel as much. Remember when Michael Crighton wrote "Rising Sun" and we thought the Japanese were going to buy the entire state of California? Good times. Anyway, I've said it before, but it's strange for those of us accustomed to having many Asian friends to only see them sporadically here in Miami.
Restaurant review time. You know the opening scene in "Indian Jones and the Temple of Doom" in the restaurant with the Chinese version of "Anything Goes?" That's what Tony Chan's looks like. The walls are red and there's gold and black all over the place. I don't remember seeing any, but I have to assume there are some dragons in there somewhere. The larger tables even have giant lazy susans that you could wheel diamonds and poison and antidote around on. Sorry to end a sentence with not one, but two prepositions. That is something up with which I normally do not put.
And "Tony Chan" could really be the name of a movie villain, couldn't it? Especially one that came out in the 80s. He would have a big, fake smile, and a thin mustache. He laughs maniacally, of course. You know, like the bad guy in the opening scene of The Temple of Doom.
This is the best I could do for a video clip.
This whole Indiana Jones thing got me thinking about the following topic. Is Indiana Jones as cool as James Bond? Of course not, but it made me then think that maybe Batman is a comparable American character that actors really want to play. American actors don't get to be James Bond. Oh no. Not once has an American gotten to play James Bond. (I think an American actually did play James Bond in a TV show a long time ago, but that doesn't count. That was even before that dude from Around the World in 80 Days played James Bond in the original Casino Royale, a comedy.) But at least we have Batman. But now Batman AND the Joker, and wait a minute, Commissioner Gordon, all played by non-Americans. WTF! (that stands for "what the fudge," this is a food blog, after all)
I hate to admit it, but that has very little to do with reviewing a Chinese restaurant. Oh, one more thing.
You know who did the awesome Indian Jones theme song? John Williams, of course. He's only the most awesome movie composer of all time. Star Wars, Superman, Jurassic Park, all John Williams. Basically any time you've seen a movie that has really awesome music, John Williams composed it. You know the really great theme song from Meet the Press? You guessed it. John Williams. I like to say that Michael Jordan was the John Williams of basketball.
So, I'll segue smoothly to the food at Tony Chan's. You might say that Tony Chan is the John Williams of Chinese restaurants in Miami. It really is quite good. Their specialty is Peking Duck. I feel like that's a good thing to be good at if you're a Chinese restaurant. When you order it, they remove the crispy skin right at the table and make you little duck skin pancake thingies. I'm not describing it well. You know the pancakes they give you when you order mushu pork? Those. They give you those with duck skin inside and you put plum sauce on it and it's delicious.
Once you've stuffed yourself with those, then your main course comes to finish you off. Delicious. Succulent, moist. Are those the same word? Man, if you read this you must think I'm totally insane. But this is seriously how my brain races around. I think I'm going to hit golf balls after work today, btw. Need to work on my short game like Tiger Woods needs to work on the sincerity of his apologies. Any proof you need that celebrity totally screws people up and drains them of their ability to relate to normal people is right there in that dude's blank stare.
We also ordered some chicken thing and it was great. Can't remember and I've used up my allotment of time on the Temple of Doom and Batman and James Bond and John Williams stuff. You know what, that's one theme Williams didn't come up with. James Bond theme. Not John Williams. That kind of bums me out dude.
So, wrapping things up. If you want Chinese food, go to Tony Chan's, because John Williams is an awesome composer.
Thursday, March 18, 2010
Eat It - Pizza!
Everybody likes pizza. EVERYBODY. To not like pizza is basically the same as saying that you don't like sunsets or laughing or hot chicks wearing leggings out in public. I seriously cannot stress how awesome it is to live in an age in which this is considered socially acceptable. For the record, it is totally awesome.
Back to pizza. I love pizza. All kinds of pizza. I like really fancy pizza that comes out of a brick oven and has pine nuts and arugula on it. I love crappy plain old cheese pizza with canned sauce that you get at a bowling alley. I even love fake pizzas like the ones at California Pizza Kitchen with toppings that are meant to go in a sandwich, like mayonnaise.
You have to wonder about a pizza that cannot be saved and put in the fridge. That's why you should eat the whole thing. And I never leave the crust. I consider that a sin. If you leave the crust, you clearly were never given the "children starving in Africa" speech when you were a kid. Do parents still do that? I know that a lot has changed over the years. When I was a kid, we made a lot of Ethiopian jokes. I don't think they're considered as poor as they used to be.
But back then, when Reagan was president, it was de rigueur for rock band members to perm their hair, station wagons had wood paneling on the sides, sneakers had velcro straps, and kids made jokes about people starving in Africa. That seems wrong now that I look back on it. But we were so young then. We didn't know any better. And history seems doomed to repeat itself as the colors become more neon with each passing day. Thanks a lot, Kanye.
I believe we were talking about pizza(!). I recently dined with my good friend Andreas at Sosta on Lincoln Road. We have known each other for a long time, so we are comfortable enough to share food. We shared the oddly named Batman salad, which is what-I-thought-to-be-arugula-but-is-actually-baby-spinach with walnuts, deliciously soft goat cheese, tomatoes and a light dressing. Holy stupid name for a delicious salad!
We then split a Sosta pizza which has "sundried tomato spreads" (which is I think a tomato sauce made of sundried tomatoes), mozzarella, burrata, and prosciutto. It's really good. They wouldn't put the restaurant's name on this pizza if they didn't have full confidence in it.
So, pretty good meal for a good price on Lincoln Road (25 bucks each with tip and one drink). Can't complain about that. Plus, we always need more pizza places! Attention restaurateurs of the world: Miami also needs more burger places, more expensive steak houses and more tourist-trap Italian restaurants.
Other pizza places I love are basically everywhere you look, but I'll point out that I really like Piola, Spris, Carpaccio (Bal Harbour) and Casola's in the Grove. Or maybe it's technically in the Gables. It's off of US-1 and you can eat free pizza there while you're waiting for your pizza. Is that as American as apple pie or what?
http://www.sostapizzeria.com/
Back to pizza. I love pizza. All kinds of pizza. I like really fancy pizza that comes out of a brick oven and has pine nuts and arugula on it. I love crappy plain old cheese pizza with canned sauce that you get at a bowling alley. I even love fake pizzas like the ones at California Pizza Kitchen with toppings that are meant to go in a sandwich, like mayonnaise.
You have to wonder about a pizza that cannot be saved and put in the fridge. That's why you should eat the whole thing. And I never leave the crust. I consider that a sin. If you leave the crust, you clearly were never given the "children starving in Africa" speech when you were a kid. Do parents still do that? I know that a lot has changed over the years. When I was a kid, we made a lot of Ethiopian jokes. I don't think they're considered as poor as they used to be.
But back then, when Reagan was president, it was de rigueur for rock band members to perm their hair, station wagons had wood paneling on the sides, sneakers had velcro straps, and kids made jokes about people starving in Africa. That seems wrong now that I look back on it. But we were so young then. We didn't know any better. And history seems doomed to repeat itself as the colors become more neon with each passing day. Thanks a lot, Kanye.
I believe we were talking about pizza(!). I recently dined with my good friend Andreas at Sosta on Lincoln Road. We have known each other for a long time, so we are comfortable enough to share food. We shared the oddly named Batman salad, which is what-I-thought-to-be-arugula-but-is-actually-baby-spinach with walnuts, deliciously soft goat cheese, tomatoes and a light dressing. Holy stupid name for a delicious salad!
We then split a Sosta pizza which has "sundried tomato spreads" (which is I think a tomato sauce made of sundried tomatoes), mozzarella, burrata, and prosciutto. It's really good. They wouldn't put the restaurant's name on this pizza if they didn't have full confidence in it.
So, pretty good meal for a good price on Lincoln Road (25 bucks each with tip and one drink). Can't complain about that. Plus, we always need more pizza places! Attention restaurateurs of the world: Miami also needs more burger places, more expensive steak houses and more tourist-trap Italian restaurants.
Other pizza places I love are basically everywhere you look, but I'll point out that I really like Piola, Spris, Carpaccio (Bal Harbour) and Casola's in the Grove. Or maybe it's technically in the Gables. It's off of US-1 and you can eat free pizza there while you're waiting for your pizza. Is that as American as apple pie or what?
http://www.sostapizzeria.com/
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