The Press Herald Strikes Again - Jewel of India

Jewel of India treats the palate, from subtle to spicy
Translation: Jewel of India treats the palate, from subtle to spicy to fucked if I know....

SOUTH PORTLAND — The dazzle that fills the Jewel of India Restaurant begins with the light from 13 small chandeliers and one enormous chandelier in the center of a large room. But even as your eyes adjust to the glitter, your attention is drawn to the even more distracting Bollywood dancers, gyrating relentlessly across landscapes in India and the world, on a large TV screen on the far wall.

Unfortunately, not one of the fourteen chandeliers fell on my head. I’ve never seen a TV before….

The action is so mesmerizing, you may need to beg a dinner companion's pardon for your distraction. But watching the dancers is energizing. Even dancing in the rain, they are blissful and synchronized, creating the impression that all is right in the world.

I’ve decide to take a break from my job – reviewing food – to tell you about shit that no one cares about.

And everything really was right, one night during dinner at chef/owner Prem Sharma's Jewel of India, a beloved Biddeford restaurant that opened this South Portland branch last fall. The sweet coconut soup, aromatic mulligatawny soup, elegantly spiced tikkas, vindaloos and curries and tender bread held flavors as happy and lively as the dancers.

Oh – I’ll be referencing the Bollywood film throughout this review, so I hope you paid attention during the first two paragraphs. I have a word count that I need to meet, which is why I often go on idiotic tangents about nothing.

Buried Cane Riesling 2006 ($24) from Washington was full of honey and some ripe stone fruit, perfect with the complex spices of the dishes the Jewel of India does so well. The small wine list with mostly inexpensive wines and a few beers does the job, but a longer wine list would certainly be welcome.

Why do you bother talking about wine when you know nothing about it? Welcome for whom?

Lovely Tikki ($3.50) are crisp spiced potato cakes with peas that the menu calls a specialty of Punjab, Land of Five Rivers, a wheat-growing state of northwest India, or possibly a larger region that includes the Punjab state of Pakistan. A dab of fresh onion chutney, from the chutney sauces that accompany meals, makes it even better.

The menu calls it a speciality of Punjab, but when I Wikipedia-ed it, I found out otherwise. Once again I’ve utilized information that is completely useless to the reader to meet my word count.

Lashaydar Paratha ($2.95) is a thin bread with tender, buttery layers, hot from its rapid cooking on a tava, a flat or concave griddle. It is hard to believe the flour used to make this paratha is whole wheat, but the restaurant manager Raj Hyder assured me that it is.

It’s hard to believe that someone pays me to write about food, but the Press Herald Manager, Fucky McFucktard, assured me that they do.

Since all breads are made to order, their freshness is beyond reproach. Other breads on the list, including the various nans, are cooked in a minute or so in the broiling-hot interior of a tandoor oven, a cylinder of ceramic. The bread is slapped against the inner wall and sticks there till it's done.

Since all breads on the menu are made to order, all of the other breads are irrelevant compared to these breads. They are slapped against the inner wall in the same manner that you would enjoy slapping me.

Coconut soup ($2.50) was like dessert, with a subtle sweetness and a light, watery texture, small bits of coconut and a sprinkle of cardamom on top. Mulligatawny Soup ($2.50) gave off the fragrance of ginger and proved thick with lentils. Yellow lentils are cooked with water, salt, ginger, garlic and turmeric, according to Hyder, to make this classic British-Indian soup.

This soup proved all the naysayers wrong being thick with lentils. Yellow lentils are cooked this way, according to Hyder. Who knew that you were going to learn so much about lentils today?

Listed on the menu as a chef's specialty, Paneer Tikka ($15.95) arrived sizzling, its mild, toothsome rectangles of cheese swathed in an intense red sauce and draped with tender sauted onions and sliced green pepper. We'd consulted with the waiter about the spice levels of the dishes, and he'd offered to take a dish back and heat it up when it seemed too mild for us. Fortunately for one friend, she had eaten some of the Paneer Tikka first – when the spiciness was indeed light and easy to swallow.

What the hell are you talking about?!!? You should have consulted the waiter about your poor grasp of Indian food. I’ve got something light and easy to swallow for you…

When we took the waiter up on his offer, and he brought back the geared-up dish, its heat brought tears. Only one of us couldn't resist enduring each searing mouthful till it was done.

Like assholes, we took the waiter up on his order. The cook, who wished we were dead, made the food spicy.

A side dish of raita ($2.95) cooled down the palate – but it had been the last of that day's batch, a serving so small that the waiter had added plain yogurt. He told us he wouldn't charge for it.

They probably substituted cum for "the yogurt."

Tomato curry with fish ($14.95) held a creamy, mild red sauce and a few small pieces of white-fleshed fish, one dry, some chunks of salmon and one more pungent and dark-fleshed, the last a surprise since so many Maine restaurants feature only haddock or other white-fleshed fish. But the more flavorful, pungent fish was perfect in that spicy sauce, which would be incredible with fresh swordfish, for example.

I’m going to be giving my useless advice for the rest of this review.

Tender lamb rogan josh ($14.95), its creamy sauce infused with almonds and cashews, is slightly sweetened with raisins. "It doesn't have any coconut milk in it, so it isn't sweet," Hyder said. "We never use any sugar in our food." But both shredded coconut – used only in the meat and seafood kormas – and coconut cream do make some dishes sweet, he said.

Once again, I’m not sure why you would need any of this information. It’s sweetened with raisins – but it’s not sweet.

A dish of rice with a little vegetable oil and mixed with peas makes the right foil for all these sauces, with individual grains perfectly cooked.

Why?! Why? Why!

One of us gorged on the delightful house mango ice cream ($3), made with mango puree. It came in a large bowl, drizzled with rose petal syrup. Another one of us, put off by the super-sweet, vividly red syrup fragrant with rosewater, indulged in the kulfee ($3), made with evaporated milk, pistachios, and cashews. Kulfee came in a small caramel-colored dome cut into fat little segments, and each bite filled the mouth with savory sweet, sensuous flavor.

The mango ice cream was inexplicably made with mango. It came in a large bowl – so it was perfect for people who like dessert in large bowls. Another one of us, put off by the fact that I’ve mentioned the syrup so many times, went for something in a more-manageable caramel colored dome.

Linda Bean's Maine Lobster Roll: Perfect on Opposites Day

What a bunch of bullshit....

I was in a perfectly good mood tonight, hanging out in the kitchen at the Old Port Sea Grill. Drew mentions that Linda Bean's Perfect (fuck you) Maine Lobster Roll had opened today so we decide to do a little research to see how it matched up with the OPSG version (which is delicious).

This is before I knew, mind you, that Linda actually doesn't like the word "claw" because she thinks it's "scary." She prefers to call them "cuddlers (i've got something for you to cuddle with...)" As I type, I'm resisting the urge to break things.

It's located in the old Javanet spot, and has been re-done with pictures of lobsterman and a full bar. Who the hell would actually hang out and drink at this bar, I have no idea...

We purchased two "perfect (blow me)" lobster rolls (15.50/each) and a small lobster stew (7.95).



The lobster rolls were served on hot dog buns and tasted like frozen meat with dill. Absolutely disgusting. I've had very few lobster rolls that I've truly hated, and this was the worst.

Now let's talk about the "lobster stew." This gluey mess tasted like it was 70% sherry with a hint of frozen lobster meat. Everyone agreed that it was INEDIBLE.

The highlight of our meal were Mrs. Vicki's salt and vinegar kettle chips, too bad she had nothing to do with the rest of the food....

Honestly, I didn't have high expectations but using the term "perfect (suck it)" in the name aroused my curiosity.

Never Go Here.


Your Pal,

Joe

I'll leave you with a quick taste of N.L. in her review of Hugo's:

Short rib (23.00) gave way at the pressure of the fork intent on it's destruction.

I've got a fork with a certain someone's name on it....

The Press Herald Strikes Again - The Corner Room

Corner Room Offers Pasta Perfection at Affordable Price
Translation: With Books, You Can Be Whatever You Want To Be!

Inexpensive Italian classics are a draw at the Corner Room, the third of restaurateur Harding Lee Smith's three Portland restaurant "rooms." Smith's Front Room on Munjoy Hill and the Grill Room just doors away both have a history of crowds. At the Corner Room, which opened in early July, the pasta is mixed, extruded and boiled into a state of toothsome resilience. A dish such as bucatini all'Amatriciana makes it clear why this room, too, fills up with customers.
The Pasta is mixed, extruded, and boiled as opposed to mixed, formed into marshmallows, and cooked over an open campfire
We are like the shepherds of Abruzzo on the Adriatic coast of central Italy, consoled by this spicy pasta dish after watching over their flocks in high meadows. Living in an economic landscape of precipitous declines, we need some plated courage to face the future.
We are like the plate-mailed Calormen of Narnia as we ready for battle. Our peasant wives have slaved over this mighty dish in hopes that we may be granted the strength (and dexterity, charisma, wisdom, constitution + intelligence) needed to lead us to victory over the Orcs and Trolls we will surely face in droves on this day of days..
Here's more: Cotechino ($13), part of an appetizer that is a meal in itself, is a thick pink sausage traditionally enjoyed on New Year's Day and made with pork, cloves and nutmeg. Three browned slices are served under two fried eggs, both on top of the creamiest, fluffiest polenta in Portland.
Still hungry for more? The creamiest, fluffiest(?!) polenta in Portland is ALSO part of an appetizer than is a meal in itself. We are unsure of it’s involvement with New Year’s Day festivities but rest assured that both of your eggs are on top of your Cotechino, which is on top of your polenta.
The polenta is made with milk, water, cheese and butter along with corn meal, according to our perfectly attentive server, who asked the kitchen what went into it. And, while delicious, that polenta presents one problem at the Corner Room, where some dishes can be simply too rich.
I have chosen to provide you with the ingredients for the polenta, one of which being polenta – You’re welcome. Chef Smith would love to hear about your own results at home. You can contact him at any of the three rooms, the best time being during dinner service around 7:30 pm.
Foccacia had so much olive oil in its making that its base was saturated. It was gilding the lily, frosting the frosting, to dip the oily stuff into the olive oil in the dish on the table – not that we didn't. Rosemary and salt flavored that spongy bread.
It was slappin’ the salami, jibbering the kibber, saluting the bishop, diddling the hoo-ha, and jazzing me-hoff to dip my oily stuff into the oily olive oil in the dish on the table in the dining room in the restaurant on the street corner in the city of Portland in the state of Maine.
A second problem, encountered in a side dish of garlicky wilted spinach ($4) served with a heck of a lot of green-tinted olive oil, was too much salt.
Technically this would be the third problem, after the “heck of a lot of green-tinted olive oil.”
The bartenders will be happy to relieve any thirst you might have.
I can think of a few ways.... sorry. The bartenders here are not like other bartenders who delight in watching you cry out in a raspy, parched voice for a “drink of any kind – even toilet water will do!”
Head bartender John Myers, recent subject of an affectionate profile in Down East Magazine, is Portland's master of historic cocktails. His champagne cocktail ($9) fuses bitter Aperol and Angostura with a sugar cube that slowly dissolves in the base of a champagne flute filled with Prosecco. Curved over the rim, a twist of orange peel added its own bitterness tempered by a sweet scent.
So, a PROSECCO cocktail rather than a CHAMPAGNE cocktail
The wine is less exciting than the cocktails and pricey by the glass. Trappolini Orvieto ($10) from Campania, Italy, refreshing and crisp, is poured from a little carafe that holds four ounces. Baroncini Messere Chianti ($8) is a light-bodied, mild red. A larger carafe of each, about three glasses, is $19 and $18 respectively, a better deal. Bottles are even less expensive, $27 and $22 for the two mentioned here.
You could spend $18 on a large carafe, or spend less getting the bottle for $22. Orvieto is in Umbria, and Trapollini is in Lazio. Rather than tell you anything about the wine list as a whole, I’ve decided to focus on these two. These are the prices. You probably shouldn’t stray from these choices, because you’re supposed to always order Chianti at an Italian restaurant. That’s a rule that everyone knows, whether or not you prefer your Chianti to be “light-bodied and mild.” Whatever. The cocktails are more exciting anyway..
The elegant room holds fluted columns supporting a floating cornice, which sheds light on the ceiling above it. Wood booths are fitted with ornamental cushions made with pretty silky piping or brocade. But happy diners can make the room loud.
Melancholy diners, on the other hand, are more pleasant to be seated near. I enjoy sipping my wine accompanied by the soft weeping sounds coming from the next table. I recommend that when you ask for a table, you request to be as far from the happy diners as you can possibly be. In my experience, columns have held a room, as opposed to the other way around. The magic cornice sheds light on the celing above it, not below it.
Salads favor mild dressings, and when they flavor bitter greens ($8), radicchio and arugula as in my version – tossed with walnuts, raisins and pickled onion with grated Pecorino – that was the best choice.
When I was approached about allowing the restaurant to prepare my version of this Italian classic, I knew they had done their research. They clearly knew it was “The Best Choice.”
In a salad of mild arugula and milder goat cheese setting off cubed red and pink beets ($8), a little red wine vinegar could have added a welcome dimension.
Maybe they should have mildly consulted me for my mild version of this mild salad as well..
Served with garlicky aioli and tomato sauce were pale gold rings and squiggly tentacles of small squid ($10). They alone needed a touch of salt, just at hand in a little bowl, along with ground pepper in its own miniature dish.
I keenly identified the pale golden rings and squiggly tentacles as the body parts of a squid, a small one at that. I knew that they alone, nothing else, needed a touch of salt. Luckily I found seasonings at hand in a small bowl on the table in the dining room in the restaurant. I imagined the decorative glass snowballs at Christmas as I whimsically flung the tiniest pinch into the air and watched it coat the small squid like new fallen snow.
The bucatini all'Amatriciana uses hollow tubes of pasta to lighten a sauce built on sauted guanciale – cured pork cut from the jowls simmered with red pepper, garlic and red sauce and sharpened with grated Romano. Perfectly balanced, the dish reveals the Italian genius for simple greatness.
The soothing light at the end of your bucatini tunnel is just a freight train heading your way. Also, that seems like an excessive process for making guanciale.
Other pasta dishes might reveal the same thing, this time with wild boar ragu or served alla carbonara or with sausage.
They might reveal the same thing, or they may not. Alas, reader, I cannot always be the say-all, end-all. You need to come in and find out for yourself. You need to unlock your personal Narnian Calorman and find out what moves you back to jousting atop fiery red dragons or lightning-ridden blue dragons. Take a look. It’s in a book. You can find your own personal reading rainbow. Or maybe you could review books.
The secondi or second course list, served from 5 p.m., comes traditionally after the pasta, but most include a starchy side like beans, polenta or potatoes. Veal saltimbocca ($15), two lightly browned cutlets of tender veal in a light salty sauce made with Madeira and veal stock, wore a bit of prosciutto and fontina. Acrid fried sage was an edible ornament to avoid. Polenta offered its milky contrast.
I was surprised by the Saltimbocca’s decision to wear prosciutto and fontina, especially with that cap of acrid sage. Top designers had offered Veal S. the milky contrast of the polenta, but to no avail. Honestly, Veal Saltimbocca looked a little trampy bordering on dumpy and, I hate to say it, cheap. Also, "Secondi" is Italian for "Second." Fun.
One pizza, heaped with arugula and gossamer slices of prosciutto ($16), required rearranging as we pulled the crisp slices out from under the fresh leaves and then tried to pile them on top as they scattered with each crunchy bite. Abundant garlic and Grana Padano flavored the crust. The margarita with tomato, basil and mozzarella and any other pizza would no doubt be easier to eat.
One look at this fucking disaster and I knew that this simply wouldn’t do. Out came my hungry little digits and I started re-sculpting the dish. Halfway through we became aware of the mess we had made. Hysterical laughter gave way to throwing the toppings at one another. The other pizzas, we concluded, would be easier to eat but not nearly as much fun.
Panna cotta ($6) had a grainy texture in its creaminess; three fat blackberries seemed disappointingly little fruit to go alongside. But fig and almond cake ($6) was superb, its texture tender and coarse and full of bits of dried fig. The pleasantly dry Italian cake is surely best enjoyed with coffee, like the cappuccino ($3.25) and decaf ($2.25) – tasting too good to be decaffeinated – that perfectly ended one of two dinners.
The fig cake was inexplicably full of figs. “The Cappuccino” and “The Decaf” are not to be missed, because so many Italians drink cappuccinos after dinner. The decaf was so good that I felt like I was in one of those Folgers Crystals commercials where they tricked the diners into drinking shitty coffee. Regardless, it ended my dinner perfectly. The other dinner was complete after using the restroom.

The Press Herald's Final Sunday? We'll See...

22 Broad Street Pleases the Palate and The Eyes
Translation: Deception, Seduction, Sexual Tension, and Photosynthesis.

BETHEL — The sun is always shining out of the food on our plates, each ingredient ripening or maturing and storing away a nutritious translation of light.

In order to enhance your enjoyment of this review, it's important that I take this opportunity to talk about photosynthesis.

So what better way to enliven a thoroughly rained-out weekend in Bethel than by dining out at 22 Broad Street on good Italian food?

The only other things I could come up with were painting model airplanes, using my Ouija board, huffing gas, or doing an intestinal cleanse. Good Italian food it is!

Magnificent Carpaccio with shaved Parmesan, heaped arugula and a fruity olive oil did the trick at the beginning of the meal. Rich focaccia, good wine and a flourless chocolate cake and biscuit Tortoni for dessert made a chilly evening warm right up.

More about all of these things later. You will learn how Carpaccio the Magnificent, Foccacia the Rich, Arugula the Heap, and Tortoni the Biscuit were able to come through and warm the very cockles of my heart.

An eggplant "lasagna" constructed without pasta that was not quite fresh, and house ravioli with an odd texture were frustrating detractions, since they were so close to the mark. Those misses could easily have been the result of a bad night.

Everytime I thought I was getting there, I would encounter a frustrating detraction. I tried to close my eyes and concentrate. I could feel myself about to hit the mark, closer, closer, god i'm almost fucking there.. Shit! Goddamn these detractions!

St. Urbans-Hof Estate Riesling ($8) filled a bright glass with nectar, slightly sweet and utterly refreshing. Santa Martina Toscano Rosso 2005 ($8) was the recommended chianti from the opposite side of the wine spectrum, though just as full-bodied and richly flavored. This deep red wine tasted earthy, with a hint of spice and dry tannins.

I launched into my usual reckless abuse of wine terminology. Not often you find stemware that's so bright, twinkling like an utterly refreshing little angel. The recommended Chianti from the other side of the wine spectrum? Just as full bodied and richly flavored as what? Dry tannins? As opposed to fucking wet tannins?

More good wines and multiple specialty martinis are offered from the snug bar area, and in good weather, a game of Bocce might be a fine way to enjoy the cocktail hour in the court outside.

More bad wines are offered elsewhere, but only good ones in the snug bar area. A game of Bocce may in deed be a fine way to enjoy the cocktail hour. I also suggest parcheezi, the game of life, lawn darts, sparklers, retiring to the men's room to pleasure yourself, getting a henna tattoo, reading star magazine, or writing a bad food review.

John Amann owns the inn, called the Gideon Hastings House after its original owner, a major in the Union Army during the Civil War. The line of columns across the front veranda exemplifies the 1848 building's Greek Revival architectural style, and the paint following each molding detail shows off a painstaking renovation.

The Gideon Hastings House is the Inn owned by John Amann. You may hear more about him later, in reference to bread. He is mentioned only to fill out space. It is named after it's orginal owner, who was a major in the Union Army during the Civil War. Just some food for thought...

Inside, gleaming, ornate tin ceilings reveal more of the careful work accomplished here.

The tin ceilings were gleaming, ornate, and inside. They reveal work accomplished here and hide the horrible mistakes of the past..

Chef Donald Hauser has run the kitchen since mid-June. He prepares John Amann's focaccia recipe every day the restaurant's open, and once it's on the table, it is too tempting to pass up.

Before it's on the table, I could give a fuck about it. As I see the server approaching the table with it, I try to supress a yawn. Focaccia? Whatever.. My server's arm extends towards the table and I feel something changing inside of me. What's this? Why am I suddenly so intrigued by this bread? As it lands on the table something inside of me snaps. I violently backhand my 6 year old dining companion's hand away from the basket and I dive in. I eat piece after piece, barely pausing to breathe. I become unaware of my surroundings and the fact that my dining companion had started to weep loudly... I have completely surrendered myself to temptation, and may god have mercy on my soul.

Spongy, topped with some coarse salt and dried rosemary, this focaccia is like a savory cake. A few cherry tomatoes pressed into the top and roasted added their own concentrated flavor, and a dish of olive oil offered another layer of richness.

It's like some sort of goddamned savory cake. I can't even believe it. My other dining companion tries to stop me, saying that at this point I'm actually panting and that I need to get a grip on myself.

The restaurant's Carpaccio ($11.50), presented on a wide white plate covered with tissue-thin raw beef under arugula and strewn with olive oil, capers and cracked pepper, won a new convert early in the meal. The abundance of cheese and sour sharp capers accentuated the sweet, mild beef.

This is the carpaccio from the restaurant, just in case you got confused and thought I was talking about someone else's carpaccio. I'm talking about the one I had that night. It wasn't so much paper-thin, more tissue-thin. Like a woman's stocking. It actually won a new convert early in the meal, so that means we must have had it as an appetizer. The abundance of sour sharp capers were much more appealing than an abundance of sweet crunchy capers.

The soup of the evening, wild mushroom bisque ($6.50), wasn't immediately identifiable as wild. The finely chopped mushrooms were portobello, crimini and oyster, Hauser said, and their flavor was quite good. The bisque was exceptionally thick – too thick for my liking, though my companion preferred it that way.

My keen senses weren't screaming wild mushrooms initially. Hauser told me that they were portobello, crimini, and oyster mushrooms. I didn't want to believe him at first, but I gave in to his confidence, his sinister smile, and his bedroom eyes. I started thinking - how thick? I usually don't like it thick, but It appears I might be able to get used to it.. Over time...

Caesar salad ($3.50 with an entree) was admirable, the fresh, crisp romaine dressed in a lemony dressing and accompanied by a wedge of lemon to make it even more so. Lots of grated Parmigianno Reggiano intensified the savoriness of the salad.

I admired the Ceasar's spunk. Lemony dressing and lemons and a spoonfull of parmesan make the savory medicine go down in the most delightful way. Such a nice departure from the cowardly Ceasar's of past dining experiences..

Hauser said the dressing was not made with an egg yolk, and therefore healthier than dressing that is – but an egg yolk is one of the reasons Caesar salad can be sublime, and I would not give it up.

I wouldn't give in to his seduction. I love egg yolks.. Don't I? Why am I second guessing myself around this man? My dining companion tells me that he's bad news but I don't care. I know I can change him, I know I can make him love egg yolks, and I know he feels this crazy sexual tension as much as I do..

The kitchen offers Italian classics such as spaghetti and meatballs, a daily ravioli special, and perhaps gnocchi with prosciutto and mushrooms.

Perhaps gnocchi with prosciutto and mushrooms.. Or perhaps fucking not!

The main course, or "secondi" in Italian, could be veal chop al forno ($17.50), grilled and served with gremolata, chopped parsley, lemon zest and garlic, and shrimp pomodoro, or steamed halibut Toscana ($22.50), served with fresh Little Neck clams, roasted plum tomatoes, capicola, artichokes and basil.

It could be veal chop al forno or it could be halibut toscana. It could also very well be nothing, another order of carpaccio, more focaccia, a cup of Sanka, an alcoholic call beverage of your choice, a caramel calcium chew from your purse, or an ice cube. Kind of like a culinary choose your own adventure..

Eggplant lasagna ($17.50) is a popular favorite on the menu and it's easy to see why, though my own serving tasted a little off. Deeply browned on the top, this layered vegetarian dinner struts the classic virtues of tender fried eggplant and creamy ricotta. The house marinara, lavished around the large serving in the shallow bowl, is excellent.

Even though mine tasted off, it's easy to see how the other shitheads who dine here would make this their favorite. This layered vegetarian dinner was all about strutting around the fucking table, just asking to be lavished with some serious house-made shit.

Chicken and pesto ravioli ($19), the ravioli of the day, had an odd texture, with the pasta rather chewy and not at all tender, as is typical of fresh pasta.

The ravioli of the day, chicken and pesto ravioli, was different than other ravioli that i've had when I've ordered ravioli out in ravioli restaurants that serve lots of ravioli.

Biscuit Tortoni, an old-fashioned dessert described in a New York Times Sunday Magazine column last winter by Amanda Hesser, is a mixture of meringue and whipped cream with toasted almonds and almond extract folded in. Hesser wrote that it fell out of favor after the 1960s, though online blog debslunch.blogspot.com said it's never lost favor in Pittsburgh. It's wonderful whatever the history – and I am glad 22 Broad Street put it on the dessert list.

I desperately need to fill up space so I begin referencing ridiculous bullshit to distract you:
Old fashioned biscuit tortoni had fallen on hard times. With the 60's over no one seemed to care about their old pal tortoni anymore.. After successfully dodging the draft, he found himself in Pittsburgh, running with a tough crowd. People in this city seemed to identify with Tortoni's irrepressible spirit and soon he became the number one dessert in the entire city. To this day they still celebrate St. Tortoni day, with a parade and a massive city-wide orgy. So wonderful....

Valrhona flourless chocolate cake was another surefire pleasure, almost liquified with heat when it was served on the night of our visit – dark, bittersweet and excellent.

Surefire, Pleasure, Liquified, Excellent, Dark, and Bittersweet. The Verve begins to play in the background and we all rise from our seats and start dancing. I find my self spinning uncontrollably and get so caught up in the moment that I am completely oblivious to the fact that i'm screaming at the top of my lungs. If only this moment could last forever..

A cup of smooth decaffeinated coffee accompanied those almond and chocolate flavors perfectly.

A soothing cigarette put an end to the madness..

Better Late Then Never: The Press Herald Strikes Again

Tastes and textures of Italy carry the day at Paciarino
Translation: I've Wandered into Another Dimension.

Not much registers with the senses at first as you push your fork around a dish of pasta at Paciarino, aside from the cute little curve of the house maccheroni – ridged and short tubes of pasta.

I can't hear anything, smell anything, or feel the weight of my fork as I vacantly push my food around on the plate. Boy, that little curve sure is cute... I wonder what it tastes like.. Hmmmm..

But a bite or two into your meal, the inner quiet is broken by a resounding encounter with good flavor and perfect texture.

HOLY LIVING FUCK! My neck snapped back and I almost fell out of my chair. My pulse starts to race and my entire world is thrown into a tornado of pasta and emotional turmoil... I have never encountered anything like this before in my life, this is going to change EVERYTHING.

A ragu di tonno, or tuna ragu sauce, registers its ferocity with hot pepper and the savor with salty rich tuna ($13.75). Cannelloni, wrapped in a sheet of pasta almost as diaphanous as a woman's stocking, bursts with creamy chopped chard and the tang of good Parmigiano Reggiano.

Ragu is Italian for Ragu, but don't let the funny words fool you. Once you've taken steps to unleash the ferocity of the Tuna in your Tonno Ragu you just may never look at Tuna when you order Tonno in a restaurant the same way ever again. The Canneloni reminds me of the good old days when I was so busy eating women's stockings that i had no time to review food. The chard was creamy like a young man's hamstrings.

Ravioli as plump as an overstuffed pillow encloses toothsome Maine shrimp and haddock, dense and yet irresistibly tender.

As plump as an overstuffed pillow that puts me to sleep where I have vivid and terrifying dreams of being chased by toothsome haddock..

The details carry the day in these straightforward dishes, while the thickness of the pasta and the resilience of the briefly cooked noodles provide a texture unique to the best rustic Italian cuisine.

The thickness of the pasta and the resilience of the briefly cooked noodles are NOT details, therefore they DO NOT carry the day..

Those tastes and textures almost erase the difficulty of hearing the waitress across a table. With any luck, you will have an indulgent table mate happy to repeat every word. Amid the painted brick walls and wood floors, the open, high-ceilinged space of Paciarino echoes with voices and noise.

The tastes and textures actually made the waitress louder, like some kind of culinary hearing-aid, while my food remained quiet as a church mouse. If you have any luck at all, you can annoy the living fuck out of the person next to you as they indulge your inability to pay attention and repeat every word the waitress says.

Still, with its large abstract paintings, the restaurant does give a feeling of space. The pale wood tables are set with placemats and wooden oblongs on which the variously decorated plates and bowls are set.

The oblongs carry the day here.

A wooden candlestick sits on a square of dark slate, its candle lighting the table until, as it did on our visit, the whole top of the candlestick quietly started to burn. The server whisked it away with an experienced sigh.

I always hate it when my server sighs in an inexperienced manner. I nodded knowingly to my dining companion as I listened to the experienced nature of the sigh. A wooden candlestick on a square of dark slate brought visions of blood and fire. As the whole top of the candlestick started to burn, my soul was aflame with the dark passions of women's stocking and creamy chard..

Fabiana De Savino and Enrico Barbiero opened Paciarino at the end of 2008 as a pasta shop. They still sell its packaged house pasta and sauces, along with a range of products from Frantoio di Sant'Agata d'Oneglia.

What's That? Something relevant? Holy Shit....

Little tins of olive oil from that producer, made with olives grown on the west coast of Liguria in northwestern Italy, are set on each table to pour on a plate for moistening the bread.

From what producer? The olive oil is made from Olives? Get the fuck out of town! They are set on each table to pour on a plate for moistening the bread, not for masturbating with.

My wine aficionado companions were eager to taste the 2007 Pala Crabilis ($8 a glass, $24 a bottle) from Sardinia, a favorite wine region. It proved remarkable, with a delightful finish and perfect acidity from the fragrant vermentino grape from which it was made.

Sardinia is a favorite wine region. Of whom I'm not sure. I'm glad it was able to achieve perfect acidity from the Vermentino grape, from which it was made, as opposed to inspired by.

The 2006 Terre de Trinci Sangiovese ($6 a glass, $23 a bottle) was pronounced a good rustic red table wine, perfect with a plate of maccheroni al ragu' di tonno. But one tablemate was disgruntled with the tumbler-like wine glasses, however authentic they may be.

I arose from my chair and began banging on my glass with my butter knife. When I had the entire room's attention, I raised my glass and declared my Sangiovese to be "Awesome with my plate of maccheroni al ragu (Italian for Ragu) di tonno (Italian for Tuna)." My table mate got his/her panties all up in a bunch about the juicey-juice glasses, and wouldn't shut the fuck up about how authentic they "may be." I forgave him/her however, because they helped me understand the waitress earlier.

Ten red and white wines and two dessert wines are all reasonable in price, with a splurge of $40 for a Tenuta Vitanza Rosso di Montalcino, the list's "baby Brunello."

Every list has a "Baby Brunello." Baby. Baby, You Gotta Splurge! Baby! Bitch!

From the antipasto list – perfectly situated on the menu before its nine pasta dishes – the torta salata della casa ($6.75) turned out that night to include a wedge of goat cheese tart, crumbly and delicate, and a slice of a tart made with greens such as Swiss chard and spinach, set in a slightly tangy custard. Too much nutmeg, pronounced one of us; but just enough for those who enjoy it in this northern Italian specialty.

The antipasto list was in a great position to shine.The torta salata della casa turned out that night to include a wedge of goat cheese tart, sasquatch root, fantasia fish, and friendship mushrooms. Once again I arose from my seat and started banging on my glass with the butter knife. Once I had everyone's attention, I declared that my shit turned out to be too "Nutmeggy." but just enough if any of you dumb motherfuckers enjoy it in this Northern Italian Specialty..

Crostini all'Italiana ($5.95) showcases the shop's tapenade, both from oily, intense black olives and creamier green. An artichoke pate and a goat cheese spread were more on the plate. But not-very-chewy plain white bread was not the best vehicle for them.

Nothin' like them Creamy Greens... Not-Very-Chewy bread is a traditional Italian favorite. Not-So-Much my favorite but what are you going to do?

Prosciutto crudo e melone ($11.75) doesn't shirk on expensive, mountain-air-dried ham, with several thin slices overlapping three fat wedges of cantaloupe, which improved after losing its refrigerated chill.

Prosciutto Crudo as You Know Makes Me Go Bonkers and Go with the Flow and Slap the Ho.

Next up was Cannelloni di Magro ($15.95), a generous serving of stuffed pasta rolls touched with a little cream and grated cheese. The stuffing of chopped, tender greens enrobed with cream was perfectly wonderful – even reheated,...that sin against fresh pasta, for lunch another day.

As I gently and tenderly de-robed the greens they started to shiver. I assured them that there was nothing to be afraid of..
I got all fucked up and tossed these bitches in the microwave later. Fucking Awesome!

The ravioli di pesce, seafood ravioli, ($16.95) had been made with chopped Maine shrimp and haddock as well as some ricotta. The utterly fresh stuffing inside the thin house pasta could not have been better – except that a deep red sauce of tomatoes, no doubt another Italian product artfully canned at full ripeness, offset the slight sweetness of the seafood with its own, more meaty flavor.

Pesce is Italian for "Fish." As I mentioned earlier, these terrifying little visions of fire were plump as an overstuffed pillow. Artfully canned, utterly fresh, and meaty..No doubt this shit was Italian!

Who could resist a return trip to taste the goat cheese ravioli ($14.75) or the ravioli made with ricotta and spinach served with Bolognese sauce? Even the simple dish of spaghetti, garlic, oil and peppery peperoncini appeals with its promise of high-quality ingredients.

The ravioli promised me that It would be good. I couldn't resist a return trip, I'll tell you - Once you pop, You can't stop. Peppery Peperoncini Pepperiness Peppers My Thoughts with Dreams of Peppadews.

Dessert was boccondivino ($7.25), espresso-soaked amaretto cookies sandwiching marscapone that crumbled in the mouth. One bittersweet chocolate chip on top of a heap of the marscapone in the middle of the plate made another exalted mouthful.

I've got an exalted mouthful for you. Sorry.

Vanilla gelato with strawberries and "balsamic cream" ($8.50) and Tiramisu ($7.25) are more reasons why, despite the low price of the entrees, dining inexpensively at this restaurant can be a challenge.

What the fuck are you talking about?

Espresso, nicely capped with its crema, finished the meal.

Somebody Kill Me Now.

Tripe Soup, etc.

So I'm back to working 7 days a week again because when you're a wildly irresponsible human being with a penchant for excess you need to work three jobs to keep your head above water.
Normally I would have torn Nancy English to fucking pieces for her piss-poor review of Wild Willy's Burgers, but lucky for her I was too hungover to type. Plus, that would be a little repetitive. I will, however, tell you that an overwhelming taste of iron is not a priority for me when it comes to cheeseburgers.
Click Here for what I consider to be a great food review:

Currently I'm in the middle of making tripe soup for staff meal tonight at Local 188. I've come to the conclusion that you should always buy your tripe from an Asian market rather than Hannaford. I like Haknuman Meanchey on Forest Ave. The one time I got tripe from Hannaford it smelled like feces and will always be referred to as "The Poop Soup" incident.

Here's the Recipe for some kick-ass Tripe Soup

Juice of 3 Lemons
9 tablespoons butter
1 large onion, finely diced
8 cloves garlic, minced
¼ cup a.p. flour
2 cups dry white wine
2 ½ quarts chicken stock
2 lbs. beef tripe, cut into ½ inch dice
5 medium carrots, peeled and cut into ¼ inch dice
3 leeks, cut into ¼ inch dice
4 bay leaves
½ teaspoon chopped thyme leaves
pinch of cayenne pepper
3 large egg yolks
1 cup heavy cream
juice of 3-4 lemons
chopped parsley, for garnish.

photo by Erik Desjarlais
1. After you cut up the tripe, put it in a bowl and cover with cold water and juice of 3 lemons. Let it hang out while you mis en place the fuck out of the other stuff.
2. Melt the butter in a large stockpot over medium-low heat. Add the onion and garlic and sweat slowly until soft and translucent but not browned.
3. Add the flour and cook, stirring frequently, for 10-15 minutes to develop a nutty aroma (mmmm..) Do not let the fucking mixture brown. Whisk in the wine and increase the heat to medium. Add the stock and bring to a simmer, whisking often to make sure there are no lumps. Add the tripersons, carrots, leeks, bay leaves, and thyme. Simmer, covered, until the tripersons are as tender as you want, I go a little under 2 hours.
4. Combine the egg yolks and cream in a bowl and whisk to blend. Reduce the heat to low on the soup, then whisk in the egg mixture. Continue to cook, stirring the soup constantly, until it thickens slightly. Don’t let the soup get too hot you fucker or it will curdle. Remove the pot from the heat and season with s+p and lemon juice. Test as you go to reach the desired amount of lemoniliciousness. Season with salt, pepper, and cayenne. Remove bay leaves, garnish with chopped parsley. consume. cream in your pants. consume again.

What would you drink with it?
Good Question! Here are some ideas..
If You Want to Pair Up:

2007 Vina Godeval Godello, Valdeoras Spain.This obscure Spanish wine has amazing minerality to compliment the lemony notes of the soup.

If you don't give a shit and just want to murder some red wine with your soup:
2005 Stanley Lambert "The Silent Partner" Cabernet Sauvignon, Barossa, AustraliaBig, powerful, opulent, seductive, and reasonably priced. The wine to have when you're just straight down to "wreck some wine."

If you like beer:
Rogue Brewery Morimoto Soba AleKind of my favorite beer right now.

If you're on the wagon:
Jarritos MandarinIt's a fucking fiesta in a bottle every time. Every time.

Here's what your going to drink after you finished your soup:
Sauza Tres Generaciones PlataOn the rocks, I can't think of a better way to cart you off to oblivion..


I would now like to take the opportunity to point out that my Spencer, my fellow bloggerson over at Portrockcity, has falsely credited me with created what is quite possibly the most disgusting cocktail ever. I witnessed him rattle this monstrosity off the bartender at the white heart, and had to smell his burps after he drank it. Disgusting.

Press Herald Strikes Again - Joe's Boathouse

Joe's Boathouse, Where the Calamari Sets the Standard.
Translation: Joe's Boathouse, Where I Know What's Best For Everyone.

SOUTH PORTLAND — A recent Friday night at Joe's Boathouse started out well, after scoring a water-view table without reservations at 7:30 p.m. Joe's Boathouse has been a favorite restaurant of many Portland area folks for years, and of course the water-view seats are the first to fill up.
If you go to Joe's, try to score a water-view table with a water-view.
According to a server, the restaurant usually doesn't have a wait for a table now, but in summer it often does. The tables are not entirely booked by reservation. In the summer, customers willing to enjoy a drink on the side deck before dinner can relax while waiting for a table.
...Or customers unwilling to enjoy a drink can grow impatient and fucking lose it on the side deck while enjoying the water-views. The tables are not entirely booked by reservation, some are booked with magic, a server told me.

Tender fried calamari and a satisfactory seared tuna dinner were highlights of the meal, although the fish was served cold in the center. Both the tuna and a swordfish special were served cold in the center. Unfortunately, a return to the kitchen for the swordfish, while it raised the temperature, left the fish tough.
Seared Tuna Dinner, Is that a combo meal? My fish, also both the tuna and swordfish, were served cold in the center. A trip to the kitchen that I thought would teach the swordfish a lesson only made it tougher upon return. I proceeded to stab it with my steely knife but I just couldn't kill the beast.
No one on the restaurant staff had any insight to share about a French white wine called Louis Latour St. Veran ($28 a bottle) on the wine list, our server told us apologetically after we had asked about it.
That's because there isn't really a lot to say about soulless, crappy wine. I've got some insight for you - It's a cheap bottle of white burgundy, probably not worth discussing and/or drinking. You happy now?
She brought us a taste of the Veramonte Sauvignon Blanc ($6.50 by the glass, $29 by the bottle) from Chile, which seemed too sweet and citrusy to enjoy with the fish. Les Setilles, a French white burgundy ($30 a bottle) from Olivier Leflaive, proved clean and refreshing, although its modest blend only hinted at the glories of white Burgundy. And unfortunately, our questions about wine had delayed that first taste until after we had eaten most of our appetizers, because each question took a good while to answer.
It was a French White Burgundy as opposed to an Australian White Burgundy. The Veramonte Ca-Ca Sauvignon Blanc SEEMED too sweet and citrusy but that was merely an illusion. It proceeded to take me on a roller-coaster ride of lies and deception throughout the rest of the meal. "It's modest blend only hinted at the glories of white burgundy (and water-views)" What the fuck are you talking about? And, unfortunately our asinine questions about grocery store wine had annoyed people to the point that they wished we would just shut the fuck up and eat our goddamned appetizers.
The main room at Joe's Boathouse holds the bar and two levels filled with tables, allowing a view past the wharf for anyone inside. A long, covered side porch holds more tables beside a row of windows.
Floorplans are an important part of any food review.
On the night of our visit, glittering tugboats were nudging an emptied oil tanker off the dock and back to sea. Shrouded boats still crowd the parking lot, but it had been warm enough for folks to settle into the side porch outside during happy hour and enjoy the sea air. Dinner al fresco might be delayed until a little later in the season, although one noble pair began the evening on the deck before coming back inside.
AHOY! This paragraph alone makes me want to throw my computer through a window. I challenge anyone to find one relevant remark here, anything.. tugboats, shrouded boats, NOBLE COUPLES? oh my god...
The calamari ($11.95) sets a standard and remains a kind of institution in itself, like Fore Street's mussels. Just how does the kitchen manage to fry those crisp squid rings and tentacles so very deep golden brown and still keep them tender?
Anointed with balsamic vinegar and sprinkled with chopped red onion and dry, grated Parmesan, the sweet, sour and salty flavors make a chorus in the mouth that perfectly harmonizes.
If you'd read the title, you would already know that the Calamari sets the standard. It remains only kind of an institution, kind of like Fore Street's mussels - which should be discussed in a review of Fore Street. Just how do they? In a deep fryer you moron. I'll anoint you with some sweet, sour, and salty flavors that will perfectly harmonize in your mouth... Sorry.
Lobster bisque ($9.95), on the other hand, was ill-served by a thick consistency. The tang of sea and mineral intensity of some bisques was muted in this version, but it was graced by a few good-sized pieces of lobster.
Not so much of an institution was the lobster bisque, which isn't like Fore Street's mussels at all. The server was very rude when I tried to send it back and order some of Fore Street's mussels instead, because they compliment my water-views.
The center of the rare tuna ($23.95), as deep-pink as a hanging-basket fuchsia, was cold, and my companion chose to keep it that way. It resembled a kind of sushi dinner, and assorted well with the also-cold, perhaps just out of the refrigerator, mango salsa or salad, with barely ripe mango.
Anyone having deja-vu? My rare tuna dinner resembled kind of a sushi dinner, that resembled a hanging basket fuschia, that must have been in the fridge, that's why it was so cold - because refrigerators are cold and fuschia's are pink and I forgot to take my meds this morning...
But a cold-in-the-center piece of swordfish ($24.95) registered as odd, and the server agreed that it was intended to be cooked through. Off it went, to return hot and, unfortunately, too tough to enjoy. A relish or salsa of Maine shrimp and tomatoes set on top was also cold.
My keen senses allowed me to come to the conclusion that cold swordfish was odd. I validated myself by getting the server to agree with me. We both came to the conclusion that this naughty little piece of fish needed to go cool it's heels a little in the kitchen. Oh, but that journey proved to be disasterous. Upon return my fish was tough. It registered to me that tough swordfish is kind of odd as well. I called my trusty server over who, once again, agreed with me. It was at this moment that I knew I should review food professionally, because the things I say are brilliant and the world needs to know!
Better on both plates and also chewy and hot was the side of "multigrain," a mix of white rice, corn and barley. The chewier bits of a narrow brown grain certainly gave the dish its best ingredient.
(see above)
Filet mignon ($24.95) with shaved fried onions, Thai curry scallops ($23.95) on rice noodles topped with fried wontons, and haddock Gabrielle ($22.95), "topped with cheddar crumb topping and sauted Maine shrimp and lobster sauce," are more on the entree list.
More on the entree list than what? The appetizer list?
Izzy's Cheesecake white chocolate and blueberry cheesecake ($5.95) was on a recent menu for dessert. On other nights the restaurant might offer a carrot cake or other baked good from Katie Made, a bakery in Portland that provides desserts for Maine restaurants.
Izzy's Cheesecake Cheesecake is my Favorite Cheesecake to enjoy with water-views. The other desserts on the list including desserts from someone who provides desserts for restaurant dessert lists.
The one dessert made at Joe's Boathouse the night of my visit was Key lime pie ($5.95) – and this version was slightly tart and thoroughly sweet. A fringe of canned whipped topping and decoration of unpleasantly flavored green syrup contributed nothing but the look of synthetic ingredients to the plate.
My keen senses allowed me to register that the green syrup looked synthetic. I nodded knowingly to my 4 year old dining companion and called the server over. The server agreed with me and I sat there quietly for several minutes, basking in the certainty that I truly was born to review food....

The Brilliant Food Reviews Keep Coming From The Press Herald..

Don't be fooled by the name. The food's good. Seriously
Translation: I’m a Shithead.


Oh, those decadent vegans – always indulging in recipes crammed with olives, roasted red pepper, tomato and garlic slathered with basil sauce, or in tangles of rice noodles dripping with nut butter and squeezed lime. If only the rest of us could indulge ourselves the way they do.
The Decadent Vegans. If this opening paragraph doesn’t already have you reaching for something to cut yourself and/or others with... Read on! I’ve got some nut butter for you..
Wait – we can. The thick sugary frosting on that vegan black-and-white layer cake is just as creamy as you could wish for. Silly's Restaurant's vegan menu, likely the most extensive in town, is worth an investigation for nonvegans who have a love of vegetables – something only a few restaurateurs in town really cater to.
Non-Vegans who have a love of vegetables.... Anybody else getting upset at this point?
Silly's has been serving Portlanders since July 15, 1988. The small spot on Washington Avenue has been home base for 12 years, since a move in 1997 from 147 Cumberland Ave., according to Colleen Kelley, who bought Silly's in November 2002.

"I had never eaten here before I bought it," Kelley said.
Yeah. Because you probably wouldn’t have bought it if you did.
Kelley trained at Pizzeria Uno at the South Portland mall, where she was assistant general manager, and her parents owned a restaurant.
Pizzeria Uno? Really?
One of the most popular items at Silly's is the Slop Bucket – rice and beans, cheese and applewood-smoked pulled pork with barbecue sauce, coleslaw and dill pickles layered in a bowl.
Silly names are a specialty. Server Zak Taillon came up with "Tempeh of Doom," a special. "Chicken in a Boat" is "Tofu in a Dinghy" in its vegan version.
I still prefer “Moons over My Hammy” or “I’ve never Haddock Like this Before.”
Vegan customers dine on meals without any dairy, meat or fish, not to mention honey.
Yeah, don't mention honey. That gets them all riled up.
"I'm not a vegan, but it's fun to try different things. I want to be able to accommodate a lot of different people," Kelley said.
“It’s fun to produce food that I wouldn’t eat personally, but you people seem to enjoy.”
In early spring the patio out back is inaccessible, but the colorful Formica tables with chrome trim and even more brightly colored chrome chairs upholstered with vinyl are a perfect refuge inside. "Silly" framed photographs cover the walls – shots from foreign or funny places prominently displaying an "Eat at Silly's" bumper sticker.
The Chairs are even more brightly colored than the table? Now that’s pretty Silly. And Funny. And Foreign. And completely fucking irrelevant.The gorgeous stamped-metal ceiling is only one player in the vivacious decor, with lights – gaudy, feather-trimmed, some flashing – adding to the giddy ambience. Pokey and Gumby are likely perched in the table container with the napkins and paper menus. The teenagers who learned to like this place with mom are back with each other, completely at ease.
I’ve got some Giddy Ambience for you.. Ok I need to stop with that.. The brother and sister who use to come here on dates with Mom are back with each other. Great Nancy. That’s fascinating. We get it. It’s been here awhile. Will you get to the point??!! You know what, Don’t. if it’s good enough for Pokey and Gumby than I’m in. Damn It.,,
As they migrate from happy bliss at the end of a straw full of strawberry milkshake and become new converts of the vegan "silkshake" ($5.25) made with soy milk and soy ice cream, the transition should go smoothly.
What on earth are you talking about?
Wines called "House Red," slightly tart, "Good Chianti" and Arido, an Argentinian malbec as soft as velvet ($7 each for a generous pour) provide refreshment for grown-ups. A clear glass wine bottle full of water is set on every table, ready to quench one's thirst.
The clear glass wine bottle is going to quench the fuck out of your thirst. Whether you like it or not. Open up... Oh God!! YOU SHOULD HAVE OPENED UP!!! THERE’S BLOOD EVERYWHERE!! OH GOD! WHY DIDN”T YOU LET ME QUENCH YOUR THIRST!! STOP CRYING! PLEASE!
The Pokey Pig ($9.25) presents appetizing chunks of pulled pork dressed up in tangy barbecue sauce and piled inside a roll. Creamy coleslaw made with cabbage and carrots is perfectly good too, but the sweet potato fries (an additional $1) – wide, dark brown and creamy – are irresistible.
Well. Nice to know that the coleslaw, inexplicably made with cabbage, is perfectly good too. I’ve got something wide, dark brown, creamy, and irresistible for you. Sorry.
The pulled-chicken dish called Chickano ($8.95) wasn't much to write home about until the house hot sauce came to the rescue. Thick, creamy and deep red, the habanera-based sauce held a slightly sweet intensity in its burn, transforming the taste of the slightly dry white meat.
If only I could Actually Write..
But nothing could help the too-intense herbal flavor of the rice, which overwhelmed with rosemary and thyme.
Nothing. The rice was simply beyond repair. The too-intense herbal flavor of the herbs rosemary and thyme simply could not be tamed.
Much more fun to eat was the lamb dish called Mythos ($13.95), with a generous heap – and every plate is generously heaped – of browned lamb on top of tender couscous and not-so-tender chunks of zucchini, red and green peppers, and broccoli. Thick dill yogurt sauce provided its traditional cool presence beside the savory meat.
Well as long as you're having fun....
Sliced plantains ($5.50) fried to a dark brown still retained their creamy sweet texture under the crunch of the exterior.
The busy business, slammed on a Friday night, had run out of "Vegan Dreams" ($6.25) by the time the place emptied at 9:20 p.m. It's made of fried plantains with maple syrup, toasted pecans, toasted coconut and soy ice cream.
“The Busy Business” and “Got Slammed and Ran Out of Vegan Dreams” are the first two singles on my upcoming album. How did you know?!
Vegans and others can also enjoy a "whip" made with, on one visit, peanut butter and chocolate topped with broken pretzels.
Vegans will enjoy it more, though. Others – Look elsewhere.But the cake stands on the counter had been working their seduction, and we opted to try the vegan chocolate cake ($4.95) with chocolate frosting (except where it turned into white frosting, where the server said she could slice us a bi-colored piece).
Are you saying you want to fuck the cake-stands? This is a little much for me..
The icing was sweet as sugar – cane sugar, we learned, which might not address some vegan concerns about the use of animal bones in the charcoal filtering of cane juice.
The icing, made with sugar, was as sweet at sugar.It didn't bother us, however, although the relentless sweetness did. The firm-textured chocolate cake was more to my taste, its flavor verging on bittersweet.
It wasn’t the animal bones, but the inexplicably sweet sugar that bothered us.


Anybody? Please? Help?