ElimiDATE Bender – like really lame vampires

The plan seemed like dynamite rom-com material on the surface: two guys vie for the affections of a beautiful yet impressionable Eastern European girl over a pupusa dinner, stopovers at various bars for PBR and PBR-equivalents, a 4am country bar, and finally breakfast at a shlubby 24-hour breakfast chain. Though Sizzlenutz and I combine to make for the perfect man (a smarty phd with an MBA’s income potential), it soon became apparent neither of us would elimiDATE the other since we focused so much on making the other giggle through increasingly solipsistic and abstract memes.

It was supposed to be a light, breezy affair with the feel of an MTV dating show. It quickly evolved (or devolved, as the case may be) into a Heart of Darkness psychological journey; only instead of leading us into the forbidden region of man’s soul, we found the mediocre, gooey center of Middle American culture. The nadir of the evening was reached sometime ‘round 3:30am whilst heatedly arguing whether the sloppy drunk girl in glasses and pink shirt stumblingly line dancing to the live band’s Walk the Line cover was attractive or not.

Pupusería Las Delicias (3300 W Montrose Ave) was the launching point for the evening. The pupsas at Las Delicias had an interesting texture, a delightfully non-greasy fill, and overflowing repollo topping. The highlights were the vegetarian chipilin and calabaza pupusas, and the doblado de pollo (a sort of tacos dorados unique to Central America) though the egregiously large pupusa loca comprised of our choice of 5 toppings made a respectable showing; however, I have to admit that I’ve had much better repollo, which is the most crucial aspect for a superior pupusa experience. However, the décor was the real show-stealer.
We never figured out raison d’etre for the flamingo motif, but we plan on showing up Sunday nights for karaoke night (anyone who wants to hear a chittlins rendition of Maná’s Como Quisiera will not be disappointed). BYOB, an awesome pupuseria run by a friendly Guatemalan, and karaoke…if you can’t be happy here you’ll never be happy.

We went to several bars after that, at some point I had a not-bad pear salad at a bar in Logan Square where men wore tight-fitting v-neck sweaters, skinny jeans, and looked like they were singers in independent rock bands, which is as useful for identifying a Logan Square bar as saying you remembered an Indian kid at the spelling bee. We got to Hungry Brain in Roscoe Village in time for last-call. Sizzlenutz is on this place’s bone for some reason, which makes sense given that as my friend he must have an affinity for balding, bearded intellectuals in v-neck sweaters.

The headlining venue for the evening was Carol’s Pub (4659 N Clark), a 4am country bar in Uptown. Like many things in life, there was no way the experience could have matched the expectations preceding it; still, more than once we found ourselves uttering, “man, this is a real shit show”. The clientele was evenly split between older and younger, although they all shared similar beer bellies and bad white-people rhythm. I actually enjoyed the live band’s performance of accessible country music anthems, but I’m still angry about the ugly, loudmouth girls that felt they were entitled to cut to the front of the men’s restroom line ahead of us bipedal relievers. Seriously, girls, you have to be really good looking to get away with that…and I’m not saying like 15 years ago in your freshman year of college. Unfortunately, that was more representative of the crowd than the exception.

Though exhaustion weighed heavily on all of us, we could not go home without stopping at 24-hour breakfast landmark, the Golden Nugget (1765 W Lawrence Ave). Needless to say, by this time my best food critiquing was behind me, though I will say that GN’s modest exterior belies its relatively high prices (you just feel everything is $2-3 more than it should be). More laughs were had. Chlodnik and Sizzlenutz took my favorite picture by far of the evening. Closing January and leading into February, love was in the air, but we were upwind from it. NEXT!

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The Wacky Adventures of Sizzlenuts

Dear Internet,

This is an ever changing post (to match this ever changing world) where I, sizzlenuts, just write a few lines on some places at which I ate sans the Chittlins related fan fare. Figure it's a good way to keep a running tally.

Pho 777/Tank Noodle- I ate at both of these places awhile back, so don't remember the names of what I had, but I had a similar dish at both. Each had some collection of unidentifiable pork parts over some sort of rice product, all covered in fish sauce. This style of dish is pretty good, but would be better served as one of many dishes one was trying with a group than as the entire meal for someone eating alone, as they both were for me. (side note: I'm alone a lot. If you are a sexy lady reading this, please call)

Tank Noodle- Yeah, I just reviewed Tank noodle, but it was easier to group the two other dish reviews together because they were so similar. This other time I ate tank noodle I had the pho with a variety of meat parts. The broth was way too salty. The soft tendon however, was awesome, uniquely huge pieces, unlike any other tendon I've had (of course, it's possible this was something else, it didn't come labeled, regardless, it was bomb).

Pho 888- I had the analogous mixed cow part pho to the Tank version, but this one was much better. The broth was very interestingly flavored, you could really taste the nutmeg, which I just learned, all pho is supposed to have. Most places however, the salt really overpowers this flavor (see Tank Noodle). The nutmeg complimented the beef broth flavor exquisitely. All the meat in it was also quite good. The well done beef was fatty and tasty and succulent.

Ba Le Bakery- I've eaten here a number of times. I really enjoy the Ba Le special: a collection of various hams, including head cheese (a pers fave). The veggie avocado is much better than you'd expect, given the emphasis on meat in Banh Mi. However, unlike other banh mi places, they don't have the oily red pepper flake sauce at the table, which is really necessary for shredded pork skin sandwich.

What the food?- This place is the only legit asian place in Evanston as far as I can tell (but, I haven't explore much). Get the ja jang mien. It's this fermented black bean sauce noodle dish that has an interesting history of influence by both Chinese and Korean. Also, the owner is a nut. He's got about 4 teeth, but they look pretty sharp, so I think he's doing good. (Also, am I a racist because I think the number of teeth negatively correlates with food quality for Asian chefs, but positively for European?)

San Chae - Holy fuckshit am I glad I went to this place (accompanied by the lovely Chlodnik). The banchan was very nice. We got a soodubu soup. I don't think I've ever met a soondubu I didn't love, and this was no exception. We also ordered the stir-fried octopus with spicy sauce. This was very good, but it came with this sour beef broth soup that knocked my dick in the dirt (it also explained why a stir fried dish was listed in the soups part of the menu). The combination of the strong beef broth with some sort of sourness agent with some nice greens, just

wow.

The Dragon Lady Lounge - Every Thursday the dragon lady cooks up a buffet of vegan korean food. It's pretty good, a nice variety of veggie dishes, I'd recommend it, but mainly on the first Thursday of the month when it is 8 bucks, not 12 (Chlodnik fucking loves it, she doesn't see the 4 bucks as significant. I do, which may or may not be related to my being a Jew). Also, the dragon lady is quite nice and has created a terrible shooter called "the dragon slayer", two of which she gave us for free. Also it's a pretty hip scene, full of attractive youngsters, if you're into that sort of thing.

Sticky Rice- Chlodnik and I went back on a Thursday to avoid the Friday wait that prevented us from dining before (see the post about neighboring Spoon Thai). The meal was awesome. We split one of the appetizer specials, steamed oysters on the half shell, with this spicy lime garlic sauce. Awesome. I ordered from the Northern Thai part of the menu, as this seemed to be where the unique dishes lived. I got the noodle curry soup thing with the ground pork and cubed pork blood. The broth was a very spicy curry, but also had a very sour, I assume from lemongrass (unlisted), flavor. Naturally, I thought this was awesome. I would say though, eat the blood cubes just with your chopsticks. If you eat them with a spoonful of broth, their visceral yet subtle meat taste gets overpowered. I am going back to Sticky Rice very soon.

The Silver Palm - when less is more

There is an old saying that if you love something, you should let it go to Sweden for a quarter and use the interim to sample those meat-centered dishes that the presence of a vegetarian would prevent you from enjoying. I’m pretty sure that’s in the Bible - Old Testament or something.

The Silver Palm (768 N Milwaukee Ave) gained national prominence when Anthony Bourdain blew a gasket over the Three Little Pigs sandwich. Double smoked ham, fried pork tenderloin, two strips of bacon, an onion ring, gruyere cheese, topped with a fried egg, all nested in a brioche bun. If I were to write a novel about a rebellious Orthodox Jew, the climax of the story would occur when young Mordicai Moses Abraham Goldwater III sinks his teeth into one of these non-Kosh bad boys as potent metaphorical rejection of his forefathers’ faith. Unfortunately Tribesman Sizzlenuts was unable to make the trek, but Principal Blackman and Miss Piggy represented for my personal chosen people – Filipinos!

The converted rail car restaurant set a comfortable, subdued setting for a Sunday GCL evening. I was pleasantly surprised by the diverse and fairly priced beer menu. If I hadn’t been about to consume two pounds of pig flesh, I would have enjoyed sampling some brews.

Blackman and I, like the mainstream puppets we are, naturally headed Anthony Bourdain’s blessing of the Three Little Pigs. Miss Piggy opted for the more indie Duck Club Sandwich, which should be expected since she wears skinny jeans, duh.

The first two to three bites were a delicate interplay of flavors and textures. Halfway through the sandwich however, I could picture ToucanSam (ever looming), a horned helmet balanced on his head and a beer wench perched on his lap, guffawing as we slogged through our sandwich (are Vikings even Swedish, does anyone know? Am I just conflating Nordic with Saxon?). The smoked ham, which had seemed like a delightful friend in the beginning, became an implacable foe to be conquered. It was trench warfare the last quarter of the way. The demure Miss Piggy raised the white flag and retreated, with nothing to show for it except her shame and half a duck club in a box to show for it. Principal Blackman and I, bellies distended and bloated from pork flesh, were truly the evening’s winners.

The Silver Palm equation: one sandwich for every two people and use the savings on drinks.

Sweet Nick's is Savory

Sizzlenuts here. FYI, this entry is going to read a bit differently from past and future posts (i.e., fewer jokes, more non-jokes) for reasons that will become obvious below.

Last night Chittlins and I, with our frequent co-eater Chlodnik, set out to Howard Street, a main drag in the African and Caribbean neighborhood of Roger's Park. We had picked Le Conakry for cuisine from French Guinea, a country on the west coast of Africa. I am a big fan of food that was borne from French colonialism, e.g., Banh Mi, and was quite interested in trying this style. However, Le Conakry was closed. Not clear why as it was Friday at 7 pm, but regardless, this makes consecutive GCL trips where we ate not at the intended restaurant, oh well.

However, right in front of where we parked, and right across the street from Le Conakry is Sweet Nick's Caribbean (741 Howard St). It's Haitian food. It was empty besides staff and a TV turned to coverage of the earthquake. We were unsure about going in; we didn't want to disturb them. We did decide to enter. I figured that if they just wanted to be alone with their family, they wouldn't be open.

Sitting down, we didn't know exactly how to behave. In case you don't know, Chittlins and I are very immature, but were quite aware that displaying any of our usual revelry could be considered anything from inconsiderate to grounds for being removed from the restaurant. Chittlins asked the server if she had spoken to her family, and she replied there were still some people that they couldn't reach. Shortly after, they changed the channel to Nickelodeon which we took as a cue that we could relax and enjoy ourselves. Thus, Chittlins retrieved his Trader Joe beer.

Chlodnik is a pescetarian most of the time, and Chittlins was in the mood for fish, and thus, both were disappointed when it was revealed there was no seafood besides the conch stew. Chlodnik broke her general dietary rule and got the stewed chicken. I ordered the conch stew, and Chittlins the fried pork. All came with plantains (not the sweet variety, which was nice as a change up for me) and some sort of rice and beans guy. In sum, while all the dishes were very solid, none were transcendent. The conch stew offset the fishiness of the conch with the spices of the broth quite well. The chicken stew was probably the best of the three. The chicken moist and tender, and the broth flavorful. The pork came with an spicy oily dipping sauce to give it some moisture. I am not the biggest fan of fried pork, too dry for me, but Chittlins explained that for a Cholo such as himself, it was just the way he liked it. The rice and red bean gravy portions were huge (I ate the leftovers for a hungover lazy guy breakfast). The gravy has a very pleasant and soft taste and texture.

As a final note, throughout the meal, the channels were flipped around, often landing on the news. Watching the staff watch the pictures of their country in ruins, not knowing if any of their loved ones were among the rubble, well, that was intense, to say the least.

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Chittlins sidenote: I enjoyed my meal far more than Sizzlenuts apparently - even sans the tilapia creole. Perhaps Sizzlenuts is too demanding. Should I ask him to connect me with his former fiancee to ask her if that has been a chronic relationship sabotaging trait of his?

Sizzlenuts response: Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed this food a lot. It just wasn't a top tier food experience. For something to be top tier, when I am eating it I have to have at least one moment of thinking "I could eat this everyday" or even better "why does other food even exist?" Now, these are just "in the moment" responses, as evidence by my having had them several times with a variety of foods. But still, during the experience, I think "this is the best there is" at least once. This is true for me to categorize all kinds sensory experiences as top tier, e.g., music, orgasms, etc. I did not think that during this food. Finally, my absolute love of my ex's food is actually what allowed the relationship to last as long as it did (and was most likely the impetus for it to begin with).

Spoon - What we talk about when talk about Chicago Thai

Are there any gastro-frontiers left in major cities? Have Yelp, Chowhound, et al mapped even the darkest corners of metropolitan food-dom? In another era Thai Sticky Rice and Spoon might have been gems reserved for only the most cognoscenti Chicagoans. Western Ave’s unwelcoming blocks of strip malls and muffler repair shops would have proved wilderness enough to deter most would-be Louis and Clarks.

Instead, one can expect overflowing crowds at either location on most weekend nights (the weekends starting, naturally on Thursday - the new Friday). Dear restaurants: when your web site states no reservations, please do not reprimand us for not making a reservation. This should have been a review of Thai Sticky Rice, known as the premier Chicago restaurant for Northern Thai cuisine. Instead, a long wait forced us on the entitled, young white people version of a Trail of Tears: up a few more blocks on the same street for an equally celebrated Thai spot.


Neither did we make it easy on ourselves with a rotating cast that could swell to over a dozen or dip precipitously into the lowly half dozen. Sizzlenuts brought several of his Austin/cognitive science crowd, with Pointers and Chłodnik making their second GCL appearance, Manners and Chasing Amy their first. For my entourage, Mumbles and DiaBetty represented last year’s roommates, and Sags this year’s, and Chuckles, well, no one can figure out exactly what he represents.

To order anything but the fish dishes at Spoon (4608 N. Western Ave) is to cheat yourself of two simple joys: absurd deliciousness and the wait staff’s inability to orally communicate their own menu to customers. The Philadelphia fish didn’t have any cream cheese but it packed philly attitude; the same for some salmon dish whose name escapes me; the pork neck salad is unreasonably good; the green chicken curry was more than adequate; the spicy sausage appetizer however was shrug (oh Sabai-dee, will you forevermore haunt my Southeast Asian sausage experiences?).

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