Category: play

My wife, well, she has a split food personality. In order to explain the multiple cooking personalities that my wife often displays, I’ll need to break out some sports metaphors – auto racing, in fact. I hope she doesn’t think I mean that she has a disorder, like a multiple personality disorder. And why use sports metaphors? Who cares…an artist uses the best tool available to explain the world! Sorry about that digression into self doubt. When I italicize stuff that means I’m talking to myself.

Let me state clearly that she is a good cook and by invoking references to auto racing I’m only trying to explain differences in a few cooking styles that my wife appears to have mastered. I’m not evaluating whether a certain style of cooking is better or worse, because it’s all good.

So let’s put it this way. Gail loves cooking up a NASCAR meal, like the ribs and mac and cheese last month. The NASCAR meal usually involves red meat and a side with a creamy starch, but I swear, it never involves a fat guy named Jimmy. Veggies and fruits are not very prevalent and the meal is usually served on one plate and consumed rather quickly. That is not to say it doesn’t take time to prepare, it’s just that the actual consuming of the meal is often done in front of the TV or from the back of a truck, making a one-plater a smart idea. God she’s smart, if I had half her brain I would probably be president, or at least an alderman.

But the meal pictured above is the start of something that is all Formula 1 baby. The F1 meal takes hours and is an event in and of itself. That’s why it’s going to take three posts to get through this meal because it’s as diverse as the countries and courses that F1 races on. It will include three distinct sittings and a guest pastry chef. The meal is more of the focus when in F1 mode and I think Gail enjoys it a little more.

So that tasty platter pictured above is the appetizer…or do you say hors d’oeuvres…or maybe antipasti platter? Let’s call it the first sitting. Starting in the upper left and going clockwise, we have Wolfie’s traditional coated nuts, homemade roasted red pepper in olive oil and balsamic vinegar, red grapes, shelled pistachio nuts, triple cream brie, and prosciutto ham.

She serves it up on a slate platter with a basket full of crusty bread. It was shared by four people and we knocked the whole thing off in about an hour. This first sitting is usually in the family room and it just kind of eases you into the meal. Nobody gets that full and its very casual and relaxed. I rarely attack this food with the same vigor that I attack the main dish with because it’s a community plate and I don’t want anyone to feel like they might lose a limb if we are competing for the last pistachio or something.

My favorite food combination in this situation is to take a piece of bread, spread a generous portion of brie on it, layer on a roasted red pepper, and then top it with a slice of prosciutto. It makes a very, tasty, mini, open-faced sandwich. I will toss down a few nuts, grapes, and pistachios separately just to get primed for the main dish. I love putting my feet up on the coffee table, having a beer or a glass of wine, grabbing a little chow, and talking about the topics of the day. Damn, I wish we could just talk about golf or college football…maybe even toss in a little discussion on Britney’s latest adventures.

Stick around, we are only about one third done. Come back soon.

C’mon, let’s take this thing national baby! Are you with me? The whole country should have the benefit of a Pockets Pocket. You have to be a little more than discouraged that we let Potbelly Sandwich Works get out of town without us. So let’s not let this one pass us by. There are like ten of them in town so we aren’t going to be able to keep it a secret forever.

Pictured above is the Tuna Pocket ($6.99). Let’s talk about this stroke of food-prep genius. It all starts with a square, mini-loaf of bread. They have the loaves sitting around in an “almost ready” state and when you place your order, they pop it in the oven for like five minutes just to finish it off. It comes out hot, they toss it on a plate or in one of those styrofoam trays, they slice it almost all the way through, then stuff it with tons of good stuff. This one has tuna, lettuce, tomato, carrots, mushrooms, green peppers, and mozzarella. It’s basically health food too because they don’t put any mayo or dressing on, you just get that on the side (I always get lowfat Ranch).

Much like a burrito, you don’t want to see me eat one, so I always get it take-out to spare you the agony. What I do is cut it diagonally so that you have two triangular halves. I pick up one half with my left and grab a fork in the right hand. In one fluid movement, I dip the fork in the creamy dressing, scoop up a little more of the filling with the fork, spread that forkful on the bite-target on the Pocket in my left hand (a point about one inch square where I intend to take my next bite), then hurriedly launch my jaws at the bite-target as I pull the fork away. Trust me, it ain’t pretty. But it’s really good. Plus, there are whole-grains in that bread. Certainly it’s not 100% whole wheat, but I dare you to find a fast-food that is this fresh and wholesome. If so, tell me about it.

This is a shot of the Total Eclipse beer from Lunar Brewing in Villa Park (54 E. St. Charles). This place is a microbrew center of excellence. It’s like going to a microbrew all-star game. Somewhat akin to sitting in the seats at an Academy Awards of beer.

So I walk in. It’s in a nondescript building on a busy street. The bar side of the place is a dark, elongated room. I saunter up to the bar and have a seat because I was there before my friends showed up.

“What you gonna have?” says a burly, friendly bartender.

“Well, what you got?” I say, matching the bad English, just in case this turns out to be a bad English competition.

He slides one of those little plastic menu things over to me and says, “Those are the beers we have on tap.”

There’s about ten of them. I ask, “Are they all made here?”

He jerks a thumb towards the back of the place, “Yeah, makin’ more right now, back there.”

“Well, I like Guinness, so what do you have that’s comparable,” like anything could be comparable to the great Guinness, but I’m open-minded.

“Sure, I think you’ll like the Total Eclipse, but,” he pauses, ominously, “there’s only one problem.”

“What’s that?”

“After you drink it, Guinness will taste like sh&% for the rest of your life.”

Whoa, I was rocked back on my heels. Not so much by the comment, I’ve heard profanity before, but by the conviction with which this man made this statement. He looked me in the eyes and stated this as if it were just a simple fact. As if it were as unequivocal and believable as statements like “Jordan was the best ever” or “the Packers suck.” There was no arrogance or pretense, just a statement of what he believed to be the truth.

Lemme tell you, ’twas a great beer. I haven’t had a Guinness since, so I can’t verify the bartender’s proclamation. I’m not really worried that I’ll start hating Guinness, and I highly doubt that my next Guinness will taste any different from any other I’ve had in my life. But that brief moment after the comment, when I actually hesitated before ordering the beer, I had chills running down my spine from a mix of fear and excitement…chills that I haven’t felt since the last time I heard Ty Pennington say “MOVE THAT BUS!”

This is a slice of sausage pizza from Pizza Metro. I think I paid $2.85 for it. It’s a decent size, but not huge. It followed the pre-meal cappuccino that I talked about a few days ago. And right on its heels was a post-meal cappuccino. That, my friends, is known in my brain as the cappuccino-pizza-cappuccino combo (CPC combo).

First, the pizza. What they do here for the by-the-slice pizzas is have a few sheets of crust already half-made. Upon your order, they add the sauce, cheese, and other toppings and heat it up. It takes about eight minutes. I love the way they cut it into the six mini squares. I usually take about three bites for each square. It’s a joyous piece of pie. Quality ingredients all the way around with a tangy sauce.

Now, let’s talk about the post-meal or dessert cappuccino. If you recall, the pre-meal cappuccino went down unsweetened. Not so with this one, I use two solid spoonfuls of sugar (it’s kind of a small spoon). I stir it in nicely so that I have frothy, sweet, espresso flavored, warm shake-like drink. What a capper, no pun intended, to this Italian feast.

You’ll see more from this place because their menu is massive and I aim to try it all. My wife usually gets the minestrone. You should see how they make that. No pre-made vat of minestrone at this place. The break out a small skillet, pour in some stock, throw some veggies and beans in, then just heat it up right on the stove. Good stuff.

All in, my cappuccino-pizza-cappuccino combo meal was $7.85 before tip. Do you believe that? That’s living the high life my friend, living the damn high life I tell ya’!

Why is it that my favorite cappuccino in town is from a pizza joint? I will answer that in a few, but let’s first talk about this so-called pizza joint. It’s called Pizza Metro, and there are actually two of them, only about a half mile from each other. The original is at 1707 W. Division, the other is at 925 N. Ashland. It doesn’t matter which one you go to, they are both awesome, and they are actually much more than pizza joints. In fact, I’m doing this in two parts because all the greatness in this place cannot possibly be crammed into one post.

So, back to the cappuccino. How mouth-watering does that look? And, it’s only $2.50 (I think they decreased the price, because the website says $2.65). The froth has a perfect curvature and I think it actually tops out about a half inch above the top plane of the cup. This is actually my pre-meal cappuccino. For the pre-meal cappuccino, I don’t sweeten it at all. I slowly eat away the cocoa-topped froth then sip the milky bitterness before the main course comes. Mmm, mmmm. We will get to the main course and dessert in a few days with the next post.

Why is this cappuccino so good? Well, I can think of two reasons:

• The guy behind the counter making it drinks them himself. Hey, if it’s good enough for the guy speaking Italian behind the counter, it’s certainly good enough for me and my primitive tastebuds.
• The guy behind the counter making it as been making them since he’s been about 3 years old. Which is about 15 years before your average Starbucks barista even learns how to pronounce espresso.

If you’re going, depending on the time of the year, you may want to choose one location over the other. The Ashland location has much more indoor seating, so I have anointed it the winter-time Pizza Metro.

The Division Street location has hardly any indoor seating, but has a classic outdoor dining area, thereby making Division Street the summer-time Pizza Metro. They basically just commandeer the sidewalk in front, right in the heart of all the action on Divison street. It’s quite a scene.

Stop back in a couple of days for more details on the rest of the meal.

Did you ever have a bad day? Ever start feeling down? Say you hopped on the treadmill and your iPod ran out of juice within the first thirty seconds and you were forced to watch a close-captioned episode of Hogan Knows Best. Or maybe your favorite sports team had their top defensive line recruit sniped by the juggernaut that is the University of Florida.

Well, if near-death experiences like the ones above happened to me, I would run out and grab a tres leches from BomBon Cafe, and everything would be better. As you know from one of my very first posts on this blog, I am a huge fan of the BomBon Cafe.

They usually have about five or six different flavors of tres leches. The one pictured above is the caramel flavor. For takeout, they come in a foil, mini pie-tin about two inches in diameter. Getting this cross-section was not easy and forced me to mangle the other half, but I did it for you, my fans…or should I say fan…singular (thanks mom).

As you know, tres leches stands for three milks. So yes, it is a cake soaked in three milks – specifically, evaporated milk, condensed milk, and either whole milk or cream. It has all the creamy, sweet goodness that you would expect from something with so much fat and sugar, but what I really like are the three distinct textures.

Look closely for a second at the pic. You should be able to pick out the three textures.

• Creamy, whipped topping
• Moist cake
• Soaking wet cake dripping with three milks

In my view, the hallmark of a great tres leches is something I call TLMV (tres leches moisture variance ). You see, you want the cake portion to have two separate textures. The top half should be like a regular, moist cake, kind of like you would get from a well-made American style birthday cake. The bottom half needs to be a milk-soaked, dripping layer of saturated cake goodness. BomBon has a good grasp of this subtlety and hopefully, by looking closely at the pic above, you can see this. If not, send me an email and I will get you the full res pic.

When consuming this, you need to execute your bite strategy correctly. I use a fork, not a salad fork, but a long-tonged fork. You start at the top with the fork held vertically, apply pressure downward, perpendicular to the ground, and accelerate evenly until you hit plate. Pull away gingerly with the fork still touching the plate. Then start the upward movement to your mouth by rotating your wrist clockwise (if you’re right-handed) so that the tongs of the fork are immediately ahead of the handle. Good luck.

This is the Patty Melt from Hackney’s in Wheeling (241 S. Milwaukee, Wheeling). Just in case you don’t know what a Patty Melt is, it’s a hamburger patty, American cheese, and grilled onions, on dark rye bread. Oh yeah, one more thing, when it’s all put together, the whole thing gets fried lightly on both sides in a pan or on the grill, with a little butter of course. If memory serves, I think the cost was $9.45 for the half pound version (can’t round that up to $10, smart…very smart).

I’ve stared at this picture and I think the colors are a little washed out. I may need to mess with my camera settings or something. This burger was not done as well as it looks, it was just right (on the medium side of medium well). Yes, I do order my burgers medium well, because I prefer them hot. I know, all of you food snobs are thinking that I’m some sort of caveman. But this one was actually done perfectly for my taste…but then again, I have a wide band of satisfaction when it comes to burgers.

Hackney’s is a suburban hamburger institution with one downtown location. All total, there are six of them. The food is great, service always perfect, and they have a few outdoor patios that are a must for summer dining. In fact, the haiku. I wrote the one below in a moment of joyous reflection after this dining experience:

dark Rye catches my eye
golden Cheese glistening with grilled Onion juice
me belly beckons, tasty friend

This is the Burger Wrap from The Bar on Buena in Buena Park, on 910 W. Buena. No, I’m not trying to set the record for “most times using Buena in a sentence,” that’s just how it works. This is quite an original twist on the burger for $8 at a great neighborhood pub and eatery (P&E). It was good, and you could tell if you were there because I didn’t talk much while I shoveled it in. It’s a generous helping of crumbled burger, cheddar cheese, some bacon, and guacamole. And even though the fries are positioned slightly behind the Burger Wrap in this picture, they don’t take a back seat to any foodstuffs because they are perfectly done.

In the interest of full disclosure, a friend of mine has a stake in this place. That won’t affect my take on it, but you should know, because if you haven’t recognized it already, there is some serious journalism happening here.

You want beer? They have a massive beer selection. It includes both bottles and beer on tap; they are grouped by country and each has its own glass. That could be why Metromix describes the place as having a “European quaintness.” If what they mean is that “you feel like you’re in Europe because regular humans there cherish each glass of beer in the same way that a sommelier cherishes a glass of wine.” Well then, Metromix is spot on old chap (I say that last part in my head with a British accent).

When I first stepped foot in this place, it felt like someone punched me in the jaw with a fist labeled “friendly neighborhood pub,” which probably looked something like this:

I mean this in a good way. It’s the kind of place that you go to because you’re hungry or thirsty and you want to talk with some friends, without the normal distractions of pub life. I was there on a Thursday night and the place was full, but there was no loud music to shout over and I never once thought “where is the wait staff?” It works, and it works well.