Good Food
(Really)
I am very much the sucker for companies that name themselves after their product, say Krispey Kreme.* My all time favorite is an international security firm I used to work with, Control Risks--can you think of a better name for an international security firm? So, I knew it was only a matter of time until I would try Good Food in Broadview.
Good Food is a small soul food restaurant in a spot that was probably a hot dog stand at one time. You order at a high counter. You can just see all of the apparatus of real cooking, strainers, balloon whisks, measuring cups, etc. After you order, you sit in one of about eight small tables and they bring you the food. Did I say small tables. Well, I wanna try to make this a play on Sunset Boulevard, the tables did not get small, but I cannot quite manage it. The point: huge, huge amounts of food. Which is good, because Good Food seems slightly pricey until you get the food. My meatloaf dinner was $8.95. Yet, that was $8.95 worth of 3 slabs, dictionary example of slab, slabs, of meat, big portions of two sides, plus a rectangle of corn bread as big as the cakes in my cribbed NYTimes pic of Machine Shed, a big glass of pop, tea or lemonade. And it was the same for the other lunches on our table: fried chicken wings and a turkey leg that kept on reminding me of the food that tipped the car over at the end a Flintstones episode**.
Yes, I am a sucker for big portions, but this was exceedingly good food too. The meatloaf featured plenty of chopped onion in its mix, and while I am not a raw onion fan, in this mix it added a lot. Candied yams were candy sweet but I love 'em that way. If you like your mac and cheese gooey and peppery, you would love that, and if you liked your chicken plump and crisp-dry in the Chicago fashion, well you would have love that. Dressing had a heavy hand of sage so you have to love 'em that way, and greens were highly (if perhaps artificially smokey) from the use of smoked meats in the likker, but I still loved them that way. Oh, and that cake of corn bread, love your corn bread that way, cakey, moist, seemingly begging for butter but great without, well you'd love that too. The only thing I do not know if I love, and I wonder if I ever know if I'd love, is the desserts. Big containers of vanilla pudding and homey looking mini-sweet potato pies. I just cannot ever imagine having room for dessert.
Good Food is. While it is quite casual and lacking the over-the-top friendliness of Pricilla's down the street, I found the food better at Good Food.
1801 W. Roosevelt
Broadview, IL
708-338-0170
*I'd love to hear some other good examples
**Why was it that some Flintstone's episodes ended with the trip to the drive-in and some with Fred getting locked out of the house due to that rascally saber-tooth?
***Like Pico Rico, Good Food happens to be just as convenient to a good thrift shop. Nothing from the Kup collection, but I was got to fill up a bag with all the sports coat I could cram in, for $5.
Monday, March 28, 2005
Saturday, March 26, 2005
Czeck Please
The bandwagon certainly seems to have eluded Operetta. I would be highly surprised if this place ever made it on to the Check Please TV show. As I have noted before, there are two versions of Bohemian food in the Chicago area, the old "Bohunk" staples, mostly these days in Brookfield and Westmont, although Klas hangs on in Cicero. Then, there is the new school. Operetta is filled with young, strikingly thin for all the dumplings they eat, no-smoking ignoring, beer drinking, Czech speaking clientele. You think there would be no place finer for Hungry Rabbi, but he seems to be missing.
I am not sure if Operetta has gone through a recent change of ownership. They've spruced the place up slightly with black faux teak chairs and better flooring. The menu is also different. Yet, it stays the same. The grand thing about Bohemian cooking is from the oldest to the newest place, from immigrant to been here, the menu seems unchanged. We're talking firstly tons of food, almost all buried within some form of gravy, and if not gravey-laden, then fried. Secondly, we are talking ultra-Atkins repellent food. If you are not getting ten or so slices of light yet substantial bread dumplings, you are getting about five potatoes boiled and casually smashed on your plate. Of course, it all tastes good. There are three classic Czech beers on tap, a few types of slivowitz for variety, garlic soup to ward off the un-dead and pancakes for dessert. I cannot fathom why this place is not more popular.
Needless to say, my meal last night both tasted great and left me with tons of leftovers. On our table was a goulash, and two kinds of pork dishes. Each gravy was unique if not overly complex. One daughter got chicken in blue cheese and the other cheese sticks on steroids. When we were leaving, we noted that a woman at another table was eating these huge blocks of fried cheese, so they are not just for meat eschewing chowhounditas.
Operetta
(773) 622-2613
5653 W Fullerton Ave
Chicago, IL 60639
In googling the address for Operetta, I found this link from the Czech embassy for food places in Chicago and around the USA.
The bandwagon certainly seems to have eluded Operetta. I would be highly surprised if this place ever made it on to the Check Please TV show. As I have noted before, there are two versions of Bohemian food in the Chicago area, the old "Bohunk" staples, mostly these days in Brookfield and Westmont, although Klas hangs on in Cicero. Then, there is the new school. Operetta is filled with young, strikingly thin for all the dumplings they eat, no-smoking ignoring, beer drinking, Czech speaking clientele. You think there would be no place finer for Hungry Rabbi, but he seems to be missing.
I am not sure if Operetta has gone through a recent change of ownership. They've spruced the place up slightly with black faux teak chairs and better flooring. The menu is also different. Yet, it stays the same. The grand thing about Bohemian cooking is from the oldest to the newest place, from immigrant to been here, the menu seems unchanged. We're talking firstly tons of food, almost all buried within some form of gravy, and if not gravey-laden, then fried. Secondly, we are talking ultra-Atkins repellent food. If you are not getting ten or so slices of light yet substantial bread dumplings, you are getting about five potatoes boiled and casually smashed on your plate. Of course, it all tastes good. There are three classic Czech beers on tap, a few types of slivowitz for variety, garlic soup to ward off the un-dead and pancakes for dessert. I cannot fathom why this place is not more popular.
Needless to say, my meal last night both tasted great and left me with tons of leftovers. On our table was a goulash, and two kinds of pork dishes. Each gravy was unique if not overly complex. One daughter got chicken in blue cheese and the other cheese sticks on steroids. When we were leaving, we noted that a woman at another table was eating these huge blocks of fried cheese, so they are not just for meat eschewing chowhounditas.
Operetta
(773) 622-2613
5653 W Fullerton Ave
Chicago, IL 60639
In googling the address for Operetta, I found this link from the Czech embassy for food places in Chicago and around the USA.
Thursday, March 24, 2005
Foodies
I get exasperated with certain posts on the "old" food sites, Chowhound.com and e-Gullet, but mostly by the time I get the blog opened to say my say, my ire has dissippated. Yet this little nugget tipped to me by today's lunch companion, who shall go nameless but has a sandwich named after himself, sums up certain thoughts that never make it to the Internet.
I get exasperated with certain posts on the "old" food sites, Chowhound.com and e-Gullet, but mostly by the time I get the blog opened to say my say, my ire has dissippated. Yet this little nugget tipped to me by today's lunch companion, who shall go nameless but has a sandwich named after himself, sums up certain thoughts that never make it to the Internet.
Wednesday, March 23, 2005
Who are these people
A week or so ago, I was talking with a woman from Great Britain. We were talking about Private Eye Magazine, an interesting magazine that combined satire, politics and a bit or muckracking, but written in a fashion and code that was difficult to decipher. I never knew at what point I would "get it", but I never did. Still, it's inspired me to write first on Chowhounnd and now here (and on LTH) in my own code. But I am willing to explain at least some of the stuff, and since I've recently been lucky enough to get some included in some great food blog sites, I thought I'd link to this post for a little backstory.
A week or so ago, I was talking with a woman from Great Britain. We were talking about Private Eye Magazine, an interesting magazine that combined satire, politics and a bit or muckracking, but written in a fashion and code that was difficult to decipher. I never knew at what point I would "get it", but I never did. Still, it's inspired me to write first on Chowhounnd and now here (and on LTH) in my own code. But I am willing to explain at least some of the stuff, and since I've recently been lucky enough to get some included in some great food blog sites, I thought I'd link to this post for a little backstory.
Big Fatty, Smokey Chickens
Pico Rico
Once upon a time, Cathy2 and I discussed a possible talk for the Culinary Historians on "How to Chowhound." Perhaps one day. But I have a secret weapon that cannot necessarily be taught. The eagle eye of the Condiment Queen. We planned on going to Trader Joe's today (for their preternaturally good decaf coffee--I actually think that TJ's decaf is better than their caf, explain dat). Our lunch plan was to have no lunch plan. Drive east, probably to somewhere in Wicker Park or perhaps a cemita. Then, she spotted it. It's not really easy, the signage is small, a pollo a carbon place called Pico Rico. One deep breath when we entered, and we knew we where in the right spot.
Pico Rico cooks their chicken with a roitissere over smoldering piles on hardwood charcoal, the sweet smell of wood wafting around the room. We ordered the whole chicken plus three sides for $14.99. It is not the cheapest roast chicken deal in town, but these were huge, fatty birds. Birds that really stood up to the coals. For sides, we got white rice, red beans, yuca con mojo de ajo (and an extra order of patacones or fried green plaintains).
I've complained before that their is at times a reliance of photographs over words in the foodie world, but I SO wished I had my own digital camera when the food arrived. Two plates, one with chicken, one with rice/plaintains/yucca, plus the bowl of brick red beans, a narrow palate range, would have seen highly impressionist. The succulent fat would still glisten in the digital picture. We truly feasted with our eyes for a few minutes. Of course, the sensory experience was helped by aromas that would be hard to capture. The mojo from the yucca fought with the citrus-anniotte marinade for our olfactory attention. Believe me, it tasted just as good. Not just the chicken either. All of the sides, even the white rice tasted great.
Also, there were no secrets at Pico Rico. Salsa de aji, at least their salsa de aji, was described to us as chimichurri with jalepeno. He gave us the ingredients: parsley, cilantro, jalepeno, and olive oil. He said it was better when made my hand, but he needed to use a blender. The chicken marinade: orange juice, anchiotte, garlic and salt. The charcoal, Royal Oak, well that I learned because there were lots of bags laying around. Still, you can watch the chickens cook very easily. Go for the chicken and the lessons.
The owners are Ecuadorian, and there a a few other Ecuadorian items on the menu, goat stew, seco de chivo; some pork dishes, but we only had the chicken, and in fact may be hard pressed to ever NOT have the chicken.
Pico Rico
4107 W. North
Chicago, IL
773-252-Rico (7426)
PS
We never made it to Trader Joe's. A few doors down from Pico Rico is a thrift shop. As great as lunch was, it pales next to what I found at that thrift shop. Two sport coats once belonging to Kup--no joke! One cashmere (purchased for $2!), the other made by legendary Michigan Ave. tailor, Pucci (with a lining as nice as the jacket itself.). Hopefully, it was not the same Pucci suit Kup was buried in.
Pico Rico
Once upon a time, Cathy2 and I discussed a possible talk for the Culinary Historians on "How to Chowhound." Perhaps one day. But I have a secret weapon that cannot necessarily be taught. The eagle eye of the Condiment Queen. We planned on going to Trader Joe's today (for their preternaturally good decaf coffee--I actually think that TJ's decaf is better than their caf, explain dat). Our lunch plan was to have no lunch plan. Drive east, probably to somewhere in Wicker Park or perhaps a cemita. Then, she spotted it. It's not really easy, the signage is small, a pollo a carbon place called Pico Rico. One deep breath when we entered, and we knew we where in the right spot.
Pico Rico cooks their chicken with a roitissere over smoldering piles on hardwood charcoal, the sweet smell of wood wafting around the room. We ordered the whole chicken plus three sides for $14.99. It is not the cheapest roast chicken deal in town, but these were huge, fatty birds. Birds that really stood up to the coals. For sides, we got white rice, red beans, yuca con mojo de ajo (and an extra order of patacones or fried green plaintains).
I've complained before that their is at times a reliance of photographs over words in the foodie world, but I SO wished I had my own digital camera when the food arrived. Two plates, one with chicken, one with rice/plaintains/yucca, plus the bowl of brick red beans, a narrow palate range, would have seen highly impressionist. The succulent fat would still glisten in the digital picture. We truly feasted with our eyes for a few minutes. Of course, the sensory experience was helped by aromas that would be hard to capture. The mojo from the yucca fought with the citrus-anniotte marinade for our olfactory attention. Believe me, it tasted just as good. Not just the chicken either. All of the sides, even the white rice tasted great.
Also, there were no secrets at Pico Rico. Salsa de aji, at least their salsa de aji, was described to us as chimichurri with jalepeno. He gave us the ingredients: parsley, cilantro, jalepeno, and olive oil. He said it was better when made my hand, but he needed to use a blender. The chicken marinade: orange juice, anchiotte, garlic and salt. The charcoal, Royal Oak, well that I learned because there were lots of bags laying around. Still, you can watch the chickens cook very easily. Go for the chicken and the lessons.
The owners are Ecuadorian, and there a a few other Ecuadorian items on the menu, goat stew, seco de chivo; some pork dishes, but we only had the chicken, and in fact may be hard pressed to ever NOT have the chicken.
Pico Rico
4107 W. North
Chicago, IL
773-252-Rico (7426)
PS
We never made it to Trader Joe's. A few doors down from Pico Rico is a thrift shop. As great as lunch was, it pales next to what I found at that thrift shop. Two sport coats once belonging to Kup--no joke! One cashmere (purchased for $2!), the other made by legendary Michigan Ave. tailor, Pucci (with a lining as nice as the jacket itself.). Hopefully, it was not the same Pucci suit Kup was buried in.
Tuesday, March 22, 2005
L'Affair Continues
[Note, I misreported the name of the restaurant below. It is called Zasciankek.]
The other night myself and several other chowhounds and chowhounditas went to Zasciankek for a little dinner and floor show [had to be there to see the kidz do some kinda Supreme's type of dance routine.] We tried more soups, chicken noodle, tripe, mushroom, dishes done with potato pancakes and regular pancakes, two variations of chicken breast and other fried things. It was all good and satisfying, although I've had better goulash (too much sour cream muted the flavors). Still, as foreshadowed the other day, come to see the dumplings.
We were all very keen on trying the Silensian dumplings. And these turn about to be about the lightest potato based product you will ever taste. They look like big globs of stiff mashed potatoes, but when you bite in, it take a few seconds for your teeth to hit anything. After that pause through light goo, where you take in the earthy mushroom gravy, you hit a firmer layer. This mantle yields gently to the mouth, leaving a wonderful contrast of chew and air. It is possible to get other gravies besides the mushroom. Essentially, think of these as giant, better than gnocchi, gnocchi.
And as good as the dumpling were, the pierogies were better. They did not come out until late in the meal, and I am not sure if they make the entire package to order or it was just slowly cooked. The wrappers were so clearly homemade, so exquisitely, perfectly flawed. Dough wrapped just to the point of breaking, and you could taste where the hand had fixed any over exuberance. The pierogies were equally light and substantial. A sauce of clarified butter with just enough long cooked onions for sweet-bitter contrast set things off right. If the filling was junk, these pierogies would have still tasted great, but needless to say, the fillings were good too.
There are certain small, apparently unpublicized (yet hardly unknown) places, La Quebrada, Spoon Thai, this place, that it just takes one or two visits to know the place is special. I will always adore Halina's for simple and delicious Polish food, but I will continue cheating on her for sure at Zasciankek.
[Note, I misreported the name of the restaurant below. It is called Zasciankek.]
The other night myself and several other chowhounds and chowhounditas went to Zasciankek for a little dinner and floor show [had to be there to see the kidz do some kinda Supreme's type of dance routine.] We tried more soups, chicken noodle, tripe, mushroom, dishes done with potato pancakes and regular pancakes, two variations of chicken breast and other fried things. It was all good and satisfying, although I've had better goulash (too much sour cream muted the flavors). Still, as foreshadowed the other day, come to see the dumplings.
We were all very keen on trying the Silensian dumplings. And these turn about to be about the lightest potato based product you will ever taste. They look like big globs of stiff mashed potatoes, but when you bite in, it take a few seconds for your teeth to hit anything. After that pause through light goo, where you take in the earthy mushroom gravy, you hit a firmer layer. This mantle yields gently to the mouth, leaving a wonderful contrast of chew and air. It is possible to get other gravies besides the mushroom. Essentially, think of these as giant, better than gnocchi, gnocchi.
And as good as the dumpling were, the pierogies were better. They did not come out until late in the meal, and I am not sure if they make the entire package to order or it was just slowly cooked. The wrappers were so clearly homemade, so exquisitely, perfectly flawed. Dough wrapped just to the point of breaking, and you could taste where the hand had fixed any over exuberance. The pierogies were equally light and substantial. A sauce of clarified butter with just enough long cooked onions for sweet-bitter contrast set things off right. If the filling was junk, these pierogies would have still tasted great, but needless to say, the fillings were good too.
There are certain small, apparently unpublicized (yet hardly unknown) places, La Quebrada, Spoon Thai, this place, that it just takes one or two visits to know the place is special. I will always adore Halina's for simple and delicious Polish food, but I will continue cheating on her for sure at Zasciankek.
Monday, March 21, 2005
Think Global Eat Local* (cont.)
Beware the mango in Baltimore sez Chez Pim. Now if I can only wean the Condiment Queen of her year-round berry habit.
*Think yiddish, dress British - As told to me by Evil Ronnie
Beware the mango in Baltimore sez Chez Pim. Now if I can only wean the Condiment Queen of her year-round berry habit.
*Think yiddish, dress British - As told to me by Evil Ronnie
The Italian Beef
Many years ago, I went to school in Washington DC. In one of those initial dorm sessions where you get to know everybody, I asked the seemingly innocuous question, where could I get a good Italian beef sammy. After all, what does a kid from the Chicago area want when he's hungrier for more than a hot dog. Believe me, that moment of derision followed by the revelation that no one really knew what was an Italian beef has stuck with me the rest of my life. People around the USA eat things like the Italian beef: french dip, beef-on-weck, even cheesesteaks, but no one else eats the Italian beef.
The distinguishing feature of Chicago's beef sandwich is the lack of substantial condiment to the beef. LA dips get slathered with a spicy mustard. 'Weck's get nose clearing horseradish and the ample salt crusted bun. Philly beef is thoroughly hidden in extras. Roast beef satisfies, but it needs something. Chicago beef adds its succor from a jus or gravy that houses the meat for a substantial period before service. This gravy gets highly influenced by those dreaded dried spices, especially garlic powder and oregano. Beef users adjust the amount of gravy per sandwich by asking for their sandwiches dry, wet, juicy, dipped, whatever. But no matter how much gravy is added to the Italian beef sandwich, the meat will already carry the spiced flavor through out. Although the Italian beef needs no frill, it does often get two compliments.
First, many eaters add peppers to their beef. The peppers can either be sweet, some kind of cooked green bell pepper, or hot, a/k/a giardinara, a mix of chopped things in oil. (See here for additional information on giardinara). The peppers do not so much as dress the meat but add another flavor dimension. The second way to adjust the beef sandwich is to throw an Italian sausage onto the bun too. Known around town as a combo, the sausage leavens the meat mass with pork fat, char and a contrasting texture.
Several hounds led by by Dickson and George R have been exploring various Italian beef stands around town. It has been a great process. At first, it seemed that they were all great, but over time, we've found some awful beef too. Below is my general summary based on tastings so far.
Unique and fab in taste and garnish
Al's - 1079 W. Taylor, Chicago - Al's differs from all other Italian beefs, firstly by a different spice mix, mysterious but with strong hits of fennel seed; secondly by the consistency of the meat, more shredded than smoothly sliced; third by its giardinara, thin slices of celery heated up with red pepper flakes instead of the typical chopped sport pepper. Great charcoal grilled sausage.
Best of the "typical beefs"
Johnnies - 7500 W. North, Elmwood Park - On one of the beefathons, we visited Carm's in Hillside (see below). Really good. Then we went to Johnnie's. Taste is always subjective, and it is hard to explain why one thing just tastes better. Johnnies just tastes better. Nothing stands out, the gravy, the cut of beef, the giardinara. Just balance and the best of the beef's that is like all the other beefs, just better. Also grills their sausage over real hardwood charcoal. This is one of the best smelling restaurants in Chicagoland.
2nd best, slightly unconventional beef
Freddy's in Cicero - 1600 S. 61st Ave, Cicero - Distinguished by a tomatoey gravy (it's subtle), it is a stellar beef.
Third best, slightly unconventional beef
J&C Bombacigno's - 558 W. Van Burean, Chicago - Uses a different roll than most beef stands, Dakota Pride. Unlike the standard Gonella bread, J&C's bread is lighter but also crisper. Yet, because of its nature, the sammy dissolves somewhere between the third and fifth bite. The way you are scooping bread, meat and gravy after a while, with a couple of fingers, reminds you of eating Moroccan or Ethiopian food. The gravy is a bit oily, in a delicious way, and the only one that ever so slightly mimics Al's.
Next best beef's, all normal style
Carm's Hillside - 1801 S. Wolf, Hillside - See Johnnies above. Well balanced, tastes great, and only against Johnnies doe it seem less.
Chickies - 2839 S. Pulaski - Enhanced from a giardinara that is thin sliced jalepenos instead, although the oil tempers what looks to be too spicy.
Patio - 1503 W. Taylor - A much lesser known stand than its neighbor on Taylor, Al's, but gives the visitor to "Little Italy" a chance to have the regular Chicago beef, done very, very well. Gets their beef cooked from Serrielli's (which deserves a post).
Reaching for greatness but not quite
Mr. Beef - 666 N. Orleans, Chicago - I have a thing against Mr. Beef. It started when they started wrapping the sammy's ahead of time. But I also take out my distaste for Jay Leno on Mr. Beef (he loves it). Lastly, for ages, the folks on e-Gullet would proclaim Mr. Beef the best in Chicago with NO sense of other places. I had to hate it. Yet, on the first beefathon, I was surprised to find that, when served fresh, it is not bad at all. The giardinara is dominated by raw celery.
Dino and Nick's - 2035 N. Pulaski - With Al's, the most aggressively seasoned beef, but there is no mystery to this mix. Lots of garlic and lots of oregano. Some find it too, I like it.
Max's - 5754 Western - Another beef place most interesting for its giardinara. The giardiara oil is tinted red, and there is much speculation about its secret ingredients. I taste something quite Asian in the sauce, wondering if it's chile oil.
Boston BBQ - 2932 W Chicago - I admit, the coolest thing about this ancient beef stand was the its old fashioned sign with the neon and lotsa light-bulbs. With that sign gone, it is just a respectable beef.
Buena Beef - Various locations - Uses the lighter Turano bread, has a gravy dominated by black pepper, and offers a giardinara heavy with chunks of celery and whole olives. Lots of bells and whistles, but it does not taste quite as good as, say Johnnies.
Finely Average
Frannies - 4304 River Road, Schiller Park - Advertises "virgin" beef. Which is nothing special.
Carm's on Polk - 1057 W. Polk, Chicago - Another choice in the old neighborhood, but this one is not nearly as good. Too fatty.
Tores - 2804 N. Western Avenue Chicago - Edible, I have no problem here, as compared to the places below, but I would not run out of my way for it.
Below Average
Jay's - A few locations - Incredibly tough beef, who thought that was possible.
Roma's - 4237 N. Cicero, Chicago - Ronny takes huge pride in his product, and perhaps I caught them on an atypical day.
Satchell's - 4700 W Cermak, Cicero - Once considered among the giants, now seems to be phoning it in.
Gutter
Quick Bite - 5155 N. Western, Chicago - Really awful, odd, chemical taste.
Too afraid to try
Beefee - Multiple locations - On TV, I saw they add some spice mix to the beef after finishing it on the grill. Two things that confirm my worst fears.
Many years ago, I went to school in Washington DC. In one of those initial dorm sessions where you get to know everybody, I asked the seemingly innocuous question, where could I get a good Italian beef sammy. After all, what does a kid from the Chicago area want when he's hungrier for more than a hot dog. Believe me, that moment of derision followed by the revelation that no one really knew what was an Italian beef has stuck with me the rest of my life. People around the USA eat things like the Italian beef: french dip, beef-on-weck, even cheesesteaks, but no one else eats the Italian beef.
The distinguishing feature of Chicago's beef sandwich is the lack of substantial condiment to the beef. LA dips get slathered with a spicy mustard. 'Weck's get nose clearing horseradish and the ample salt crusted bun. Philly beef is thoroughly hidden in extras. Roast beef satisfies, but it needs something. Chicago beef adds its succor from a jus or gravy that houses the meat for a substantial period before service. This gravy gets highly influenced by those dreaded dried spices, especially garlic powder and oregano. Beef users adjust the amount of gravy per sandwich by asking for their sandwiches dry, wet, juicy, dipped, whatever. But no matter how much gravy is added to the Italian beef sandwich, the meat will already carry the spiced flavor through out. Although the Italian beef needs no frill, it does often get two compliments.
First, many eaters add peppers to their beef. The peppers can either be sweet, some kind of cooked green bell pepper, or hot, a/k/a giardinara, a mix of chopped things in oil. (See here for additional information on giardinara). The peppers do not so much as dress the meat but add another flavor dimension. The second way to adjust the beef sandwich is to throw an Italian sausage onto the bun too. Known around town as a combo, the sausage leavens the meat mass with pork fat, char and a contrasting texture.
Several hounds led by by Dickson and George R have been exploring various Italian beef stands around town. It has been a great process. At first, it seemed that they were all great, but over time, we've found some awful beef too. Below is my general summary based on tastings so far.
Unique and fab in taste and garnish
Al's - 1079 W. Taylor, Chicago - Al's differs from all other Italian beefs, firstly by a different spice mix, mysterious but with strong hits of fennel seed; secondly by the consistency of the meat, more shredded than smoothly sliced; third by its giardinara, thin slices of celery heated up with red pepper flakes instead of the typical chopped sport pepper. Great charcoal grilled sausage.
Best of the "typical beefs"
Johnnies - 7500 W. North, Elmwood Park - On one of the beefathons, we visited Carm's in Hillside (see below). Really good. Then we went to Johnnie's. Taste is always subjective, and it is hard to explain why one thing just tastes better. Johnnies just tastes better. Nothing stands out, the gravy, the cut of beef, the giardinara. Just balance and the best of the beef's that is like all the other beefs, just better. Also grills their sausage over real hardwood charcoal. This is one of the best smelling restaurants in Chicagoland.
2nd best, slightly unconventional beef
Freddy's in Cicero - 1600 S. 61st Ave, Cicero - Distinguished by a tomatoey gravy (it's subtle), it is a stellar beef.
Third best, slightly unconventional beef
J&C Bombacigno's - 558 W. Van Burean, Chicago - Uses a different roll than most beef stands, Dakota Pride. Unlike the standard Gonella bread, J&C's bread is lighter but also crisper. Yet, because of its nature, the sammy dissolves somewhere between the third and fifth bite. The way you are scooping bread, meat and gravy after a while, with a couple of fingers, reminds you of eating Moroccan or Ethiopian food. The gravy is a bit oily, in a delicious way, and the only one that ever so slightly mimics Al's.
Next best beef's, all normal style
Carm's Hillside - 1801 S. Wolf, Hillside - See Johnnies above. Well balanced, tastes great, and only against Johnnies doe it seem less.
Chickies - 2839 S. Pulaski - Enhanced from a giardinara that is thin sliced jalepenos instead, although the oil tempers what looks to be too spicy.
Patio - 1503 W. Taylor - A much lesser known stand than its neighbor on Taylor, Al's, but gives the visitor to "Little Italy" a chance to have the regular Chicago beef, done very, very well. Gets their beef cooked from Serrielli's (which deserves a post).
Reaching for greatness but not quite
Mr. Beef - 666 N. Orleans, Chicago - I have a thing against Mr. Beef. It started when they started wrapping the sammy's ahead of time. But I also take out my distaste for Jay Leno on Mr. Beef (he loves it). Lastly, for ages, the folks on e-Gullet would proclaim Mr. Beef the best in Chicago with NO sense of other places. I had to hate it. Yet, on the first beefathon, I was surprised to find that, when served fresh, it is not bad at all. The giardinara is dominated by raw celery.
Dino and Nick's - 2035 N. Pulaski - With Al's, the most aggressively seasoned beef, but there is no mystery to this mix. Lots of garlic and lots of oregano. Some find it too, I like it.
Max's - 5754 Western - Another beef place most interesting for its giardinara. The giardiara oil is tinted red, and there is much speculation about its secret ingredients. I taste something quite Asian in the sauce, wondering if it's chile oil.
Boston BBQ - 2932 W Chicago - I admit, the coolest thing about this ancient beef stand was the its old fashioned sign with the neon and lotsa light-bulbs. With that sign gone, it is just a respectable beef.
Buena Beef - Various locations - Uses the lighter Turano bread, has a gravy dominated by black pepper, and offers a giardinara heavy with chunks of celery and whole olives. Lots of bells and whistles, but it does not taste quite as good as, say Johnnies.
Finely Average
Frannies - 4304 River Road, Schiller Park - Advertises "virgin" beef. Which is nothing special.
Carm's on Polk - 1057 W. Polk, Chicago - Another choice in the old neighborhood, but this one is not nearly as good. Too fatty.
Tores - 2804 N. Western Avenue Chicago - Edible, I have no problem here, as compared to the places below, but I would not run out of my way for it.
Below Average
Jay's - A few locations - Incredibly tough beef, who thought that was possible.
Roma's - 4237 N. Cicero, Chicago - Ronny takes huge pride in his product, and perhaps I caught them on an atypical day.
Satchell's - 4700 W Cermak, Cicero - Once considered among the giants, now seems to be phoning it in.
Gutter
Quick Bite - 5155 N. Western, Chicago - Really awful, odd, chemical taste.
Too afraid to try
Beefee - Multiple locations - On TV, I saw they add some spice mix to the beef after finishing it on the grill. Two things that confirm my worst fears.
Tuesday, March 15, 2005
Cheating on Halina
About a month or so, I poked my head into Zascianek, a Polish restaurant on Belmont a few blocks west of Central. The bilingual menu with selections under veal, beef, pork and chicken seemed interesting--veal tongue anyone? Moreover, the place was packed (early on a Sunday night). I've been wanting to return since, especially as it is a lot closer than my darling Halina.
The Condiment Queen and I had lunch there today. Yes, I am not gonna draw too much of a conclusion from one meal, but boy was it good. Really good. One must have soup at a Polish restaurant (no?). There are three regulars: chicken noodle, tripe and red borsht, plus a soup of the day. We went with the SOTD, pickle. And boy did it taste like pickle. I admired the high thriftiness of the kitchen that took probably those last pickles from the jar and combined them with a smooth and creamy stock (and a potato or two for contrast) to make a great soup. Then again, I do not think I have had a bad soup at a Polish place.
I was curious to try the contractor's special, the menu has a lot of dishes that are mysterious in name. I s'pose it is something to keep you fortified for a hard day's worth (or reward you after a hard day's worth). It's an oblong potato pancake underneath a breaded pork cutlet, both the pork and the pancake are the same size. Next comes a ladle of mushroom gravy, finally two slices of cheese are melted on top. Out of guilt, I only at 1/2. It was like a Polish version of ReneG's Diner Grill Slinger. Good too. Crisply fried, fresh mushrooms, I could taste the potatoes in the potato pancake, and the cheese gave it a unifying element as it dribbled down.
My wife ordered boiled beef with a horseradish-apple gravy. Sauce on the side was noted upon ordering but not in execution from the kitchen. The meat was a tad stringy but in a good way. It came with two mounds of pure mashed potatoes topped with fried onions. Both dishes came with a tri-part mix of homemade salads.
The woman in the kitchen, Anna I believe, was glad we came. We talked chow a bit and she showed me what her dumplings looked like. I am eager to continue the relationship.
Zascianek
5752 W. Belmont
Chicago, IL
About a month or so, I poked my head into Zascianek, a Polish restaurant on Belmont a few blocks west of Central. The bilingual menu with selections under veal, beef, pork and chicken seemed interesting--veal tongue anyone? Moreover, the place was packed (early on a Sunday night). I've been wanting to return since, especially as it is a lot closer than my darling Halina.
The Condiment Queen and I had lunch there today. Yes, I am not gonna draw too much of a conclusion from one meal, but boy was it good. Really good. One must have soup at a Polish restaurant (no?). There are three regulars: chicken noodle, tripe and red borsht, plus a soup of the day. We went with the SOTD, pickle. And boy did it taste like pickle. I admired the high thriftiness of the kitchen that took probably those last pickles from the jar and combined them with a smooth and creamy stock (and a potato or two for contrast) to make a great soup. Then again, I do not think I have had a bad soup at a Polish place.
I was curious to try the contractor's special, the menu has a lot of dishes that are mysterious in name. I s'pose it is something to keep you fortified for a hard day's worth (or reward you after a hard day's worth). It's an oblong potato pancake underneath a breaded pork cutlet, both the pork and the pancake are the same size. Next comes a ladle of mushroom gravy, finally two slices of cheese are melted on top. Out of guilt, I only at 1/2. It was like a Polish version of ReneG's Diner Grill Slinger. Good too. Crisply fried, fresh mushrooms, I could taste the potatoes in the potato pancake, and the cheese gave it a unifying element as it dribbled down.
My wife ordered boiled beef with a horseradish-apple gravy. Sauce on the side was noted upon ordering but not in execution from the kitchen. The meat was a tad stringy but in a good way. It came with two mounds of pure mashed potatoes topped with fried onions. Both dishes came with a tri-part mix of homemade salads.
The woman in the kitchen, Anna I believe, was glad we came. We talked chow a bit and she showed me what her dumplings looked like. I am eager to continue the relationship.
Zascianek
5752 W. Belmont
Chicago, IL
More Time in Wisconsin
We were driving from Oconomowoc to Oak Park on Sunday. After extensive research, it was decided that it was only to Milwaukee that we would get decent chow. The first and last place that came to mind for Milwaukee, the place I most want to try in the land of butter was the Jewish deli, Jake's. A quick check on the chow hot-line, however, educated me of no Jake-y's on Sundays. We ended at Mader's, which was the choice all a long of the Condiment Queen. Later, we arrived too late for hot ham and buns (PLEASE EXPLAIN!) but had an early dinner of burgers and custard at Omega. We finished the day with some shopping at Woodman's in Kenosha. Wisconsin remains a great chow state.
We pulled into Mader's lot around 1 PM and were initially disappointed to learn it was buffet. By the end of the meal we realized this was an intensely good deal. The buffet encompasses most of the Mader menu. More aptly put, most of the Mader's menu is no different from what is on the buffet. In other words, if you ordered sausage or sauerbraten, it's coming from the same holding cell regardless of whether you can see it. Same thing with appetizers of various Usinger meats. There are little secrets on this buffet. Which means it is food that works very well on the buffet. Fat brats and even fatter knockwursts in an onion broth, goulash that tasted almost of Texas chile and kessler ribs with sauerkraut all went down well with my New Glarus Spotted Cow beer. Before these hot meats, I ate a bunch of Milwaukee cold cuts, some herring and a big portion of smoked coho salmon--how can they get that in Wisconsin? Roast beef stood up amazingly well to the heat lamp but dessert were like school food--sheet cakes with plain frostings.
We parked between Glorioso Brothers and Peter Sciortino's Bakery on Brady Street, just north of downtown Milwaukee, both advertising hot ham and fresh buns, only to find both places just closed for the day. Must come earlier to find out. So, we wandered the shops a bit, later getting one of the most over-extracted espressos I have ever tasted at Anodyne. We got a bum lead on a custard place that turned out to be Cold Stone Creamery!!! Around 5ish, we started south on in Rt. 32, passing through some more of Milwaukee's frozen in time neighborhoods, also got to drive right up to a lake freighter, something you cannot do in Chicago. We decided to stop at the Milwaukee chain Omega for custard and burgers. Omega is just the place to have handy on a Sunday evening. Nothing extraordinary. No gobs of butter on the burger, just a discreet swipe on the soft bun, yet the burger had that real taste I also associate with Fatburger or In'n Out. Again, the custard was not extraordinary yet real tasting. It fortified us to wander Woodman's.
A few years ago, there was some debate on Chowhound on whether Woodman's was a great store or just a big store. I would say that for a long time on Sunday night, I was in the big, just big category. As has been noted, the store is claustrophobic, poorly organized and filled with a lot of just stuff. The produce is cheap but seemed on the verge of spoilage (similar to Stanley's in Chicago), and granted it was Sunday night, but the bakery stuff did not impress--hey if I skipped the kringle you know it is not so impressive. Still, the longer I wandered Woodman's, the more it grew on me. Within all those miles of shelves are tons of Wisconsin products, all those honeys and door county preserves and summer sausages and cheese spreads but always a few dollars less than at the specialty shops. We spent a while ruminating over which Wisconsin mustards to take home. Of course, there was the Tenuta's giardinaras, and we bought a jar of the finely diced mix. The selection of Usinger and Klements sausage was huge. Most interesting to me was a range of wild caught smoked fishes from different Wisconsin providers. In addition to the more common chubs and whitefish, there was smoked blue fish, smoke lake (i.e., larger) trout and even smoked carp. Woodman's is well worth the time even if it is not a great store.
[All addresses Milwaukee unless stated otherwise]
Jake's Deli - 1634 North Mader's - 1041 N Old World 3rd St
Glorioso Brothers 1020 East Brady Street.
Peter Sciortino's Bakery 1101 E. Brady Street
Anodyne Coffee Roasting Co. 1208 E. Brady Street
Omega Custard and Burgers - 32 and Kinnickinnic (among other locations)
Woodman's - Just off of Highway 50 and I-94, Kenosha
We were driving from Oconomowoc to Oak Park on Sunday. After extensive research, it was decided that it was only to Milwaukee that we would get decent chow. The first and last place that came to mind for Milwaukee, the place I most want to try in the land of butter was the Jewish deli, Jake's. A quick check on the chow hot-line, however, educated me of no Jake-y's on Sundays. We ended at Mader's, which was the choice all a long of the Condiment Queen. Later, we arrived too late for hot ham and buns (PLEASE EXPLAIN!) but had an early dinner of burgers and custard at Omega. We finished the day with some shopping at Woodman's in Kenosha. Wisconsin remains a great chow state.
We pulled into Mader's lot around 1 PM and were initially disappointed to learn it was buffet. By the end of the meal we realized this was an intensely good deal. The buffet encompasses most of the Mader menu. More aptly put, most of the Mader's menu is no different from what is on the buffet. In other words, if you ordered sausage or sauerbraten, it's coming from the same holding cell regardless of whether you can see it. Same thing with appetizers of various Usinger meats. There are little secrets on this buffet. Which means it is food that works very well on the buffet. Fat brats and even fatter knockwursts in an onion broth, goulash that tasted almost of Texas chile and kessler ribs with sauerkraut all went down well with my New Glarus Spotted Cow beer. Before these hot meats, I ate a bunch of Milwaukee cold cuts, some herring and a big portion of smoked coho salmon--how can they get that in Wisconsin? Roast beef stood up amazingly well to the heat lamp but dessert were like school food--sheet cakes with plain frostings.
We parked between Glorioso Brothers and Peter Sciortino's Bakery on Brady Street, just north of downtown Milwaukee, both advertising hot ham and fresh buns, only to find both places just closed for the day. Must come earlier to find out. So, we wandered the shops a bit, later getting one of the most over-extracted espressos I have ever tasted at Anodyne. We got a bum lead on a custard place that turned out to be Cold Stone Creamery!!! Around 5ish, we started south on in Rt. 32, passing through some more of Milwaukee's frozen in time neighborhoods, also got to drive right up to a lake freighter, something you cannot do in Chicago. We decided to stop at the Milwaukee chain Omega for custard and burgers. Omega is just the place to have handy on a Sunday evening. Nothing extraordinary. No gobs of butter on the burger, just a discreet swipe on the soft bun, yet the burger had that real taste I also associate with Fatburger or In'n Out. Again, the custard was not extraordinary yet real tasting. It fortified us to wander Woodman's.
A few years ago, there was some debate on Chowhound on whether Woodman's was a great store or just a big store. I would say that for a long time on Sunday night, I was in the big, just big category. As has been noted, the store is claustrophobic, poorly organized and filled with a lot of just stuff. The produce is cheap but seemed on the verge of spoilage (similar to Stanley's in Chicago), and granted it was Sunday night, but the bakery stuff did not impress--hey if I skipped the kringle you know it is not so impressive. Still, the longer I wandered Woodman's, the more it grew on me. Within all those miles of shelves are tons of Wisconsin products, all those honeys and door county preserves and summer sausages and cheese spreads but always a few dollars less than at the specialty shops. We spent a while ruminating over which Wisconsin mustards to take home. Of course, there was the Tenuta's giardinaras, and we bought a jar of the finely diced mix. The selection of Usinger and Klements sausage was huge. Most interesting to me was a range of wild caught smoked fishes from different Wisconsin providers. In addition to the more common chubs and whitefish, there was smoked blue fish, smoke lake (i.e., larger) trout and even smoked carp. Woodman's is well worth the time even if it is not a great store.
[All addresses Milwaukee unless stated otherwise]
Jake's Deli - 1634 North Mader's - 1041 N Old World 3rd St
Glorioso Brothers 1020 East Brady Street.
Peter Sciortino's Bakery 1101 E. Brady Street
Anodyne Coffee Roasting Co. 1208 E. Brady Street
Omega Custard and Burgers - 32 and Kinnickinnic (among other locations)
Woodman's - Just off of Highway 50 and I-94, Kenosha
Tuesday, March 08, 2005
Food Blogs
On LTHForum.com, Ann Fisher introduced me to a new food blog. It got me on a ten minute food blog digression. As always, Kipblog keeps on top of all the blogs (food). One of these days, I'll update my page...
On LTHForum.com, Ann Fisher introduced me to a new food blog. It got me on a ten minute food blog digression. As always, Kipblog keeps on top of all the blogs (food). One of these days, I'll update my page...
Wednesday, March 02, 2005
Fried Herring Found! (Not exactly available...)
I'm still working on my manifesto, you know local and sustainable, hunting's OK if you eat what you catch, the sage advice from Evil Ronnie, "think yiddish, dress british." One plank will surely be about the value of river and lake fish. Creatures we seldom truly appreciate as we rush off for the next Pantagonian tooth-fish and extra fatty o-toro.
Luckily, in Eastern North Carolina, someone else still cares about real fish (and real pie). Gosh, I wish this place was closer. Check out the nice plate of fried herring.
Cyprus Grill
1244 Brown Rd.
Jamesville, NC
Open only during the herring season!
I'm still working on my manifesto, you know local and sustainable, hunting's OK if you eat what you catch, the sage advice from Evil Ronnie, "think yiddish, dress british." One plank will surely be about the value of river and lake fish. Creatures we seldom truly appreciate as we rush off for the next Pantagonian tooth-fish and extra fatty o-toro.
Luckily, in Eastern North Carolina, someone else still cares about real fish (and real pie). Gosh, I wish this place was closer. Check out the nice plate of fried herring.
Cyprus Grill
1244 Brown Rd.
Jamesville, NC
Open only during the herring season!
Round Mound O' Executive Salad - Club Lago
Did the cookie exchange yesterday with AF O'Neil at one of our favorite places, Club Lago. We both thought we'd have a date with our pal Guido, but when we saw a couple of salads being served at a neighboring table, we revised our orders. I am forever indebeted to John M and Jeff B who introduced the world to the saline treasure that is the Club Lago Executive Salad (or more accurately put, introduced ME to the Club Lago Executive Salad). Still, while I love the salad, I usually find it too small for a lunch (and not worth its $).
Yesterday, when I saw the bigger salads at the other table, I asked our waitress, are all salads that big. She pointed to the section on the menu with the luncheon salads, the grilled calamari, the tuna, etc., and said they were all that big. I said yes, but what about the Executive. She did hem a bit, saying that it had to do with the pile-worthyness of the ingredients, essentially that the chopped onions or what not took up more room on the salads I was seeing. Undaunted, I said I wanted the Executve and make sure it was as big. It was. The family and I have been watching SuperSize Me the last few days. This was super-sized, and surely enough calories to send Morgan Spurlock into cardiac arrest. But as they say, moderation. Do not eat an Executive Salad daily, but when you do...You eat. You eat blue cheese and bacon and anchovies and olives and dressing until the sodium chloride produces a near-giddy toxicity in your body. Plus, it is crunchy and squishy and soft and crisp too. 1000 layers of salt.
I cannot say for sure if the Club Lago has extended the size of their Executive Salad because they have heard the cry of chowhounds, or yesterday was a lucky abberation. I hope someone else can do some research as I think I need to let the bloating go down before my next order.
Club Lago
331 W. Superior St
Chicago, IL
(312) 951-2849
Did the cookie exchange yesterday with AF O'Neil at one of our favorite places, Club Lago. We both thought we'd have a date with our pal Guido, but when we saw a couple of salads being served at a neighboring table, we revised our orders. I am forever indebeted to John M and Jeff B who introduced the world to the saline treasure that is the Club Lago Executive Salad (or more accurately put, introduced ME to the Club Lago Executive Salad). Still, while I love the salad, I usually find it too small for a lunch (and not worth its $).
Yesterday, when I saw the bigger salads at the other table, I asked our waitress, are all salads that big. She pointed to the section on the menu with the luncheon salads, the grilled calamari, the tuna, etc., and said they were all that big. I said yes, but what about the Executive. She did hem a bit, saying that it had to do with the pile-worthyness of the ingredients, essentially that the chopped onions or what not took up more room on the salads I was seeing. Undaunted, I said I wanted the Executve and make sure it was as big. It was. The family and I have been watching SuperSize Me the last few days. This was super-sized, and surely enough calories to send Morgan Spurlock into cardiac arrest. But as they say, moderation. Do not eat an Executive Salad daily, but when you do...You eat. You eat blue cheese and bacon and anchovies and olives and dressing until the sodium chloride produces a near-giddy toxicity in your body. Plus, it is crunchy and squishy and soft and crisp too. 1000 layers of salt.
I cannot say for sure if the Club Lago has extended the size of their Executive Salad because they have heard the cry of chowhounds, or yesterday was a lucky abberation. I hope someone else can do some research as I think I need to let the bloating go down before my next order.
Club Lago
331 W. Superior St
Chicago, IL
(312) 951-2849
Monday, February 28, 2005
Return to the Scene of the Krime
Kewpies and a Kringle
Surely, a place called Kewpie's possesses a child like quality. That is a reminding of child like quality. Kewpie's gleaming tile floor remind me intensely of school cafeterias, and the stainless steel trimmed formica tables existed in everyone's kitchen once upon a time. The effect was so profound that my Dad exclaimed how much the burgers reminded him of when he was a kid before taking one single bite. Mom at least waiting to sample her Kewpie burger, said it reminded her of McDonalds when it first got started.
The Kewpie burger gets started as one big kewpie loaf of meat. One grill man begins the kooking process by hacking off chunks of meat, then whacking, turning it into a patty. He retains responsibility for the burger for a few more columns, flipping and a-pounding. A second grill man takes over for the last two columns. By keeping a couple of kids busy, the burger is well cooked but NOT over cooked by the time it ends up in your bun. It gets a strong dose of catsup, and here is a case where the maligned condiment acts more as a sauce. The pickles were inside the bun but my heart went flippity-flop nonetheless. Fries are crinkle cut but nothing special, but the homemade rootbeer is nicely dry the way I like it (although not nearly as complex or medical as modern yuppie root beers). With a kringle, it makes a fine lunch.
But where to kringle. It was a decision vexing me all day. I so had loved Bendsten's. Yet, I was a connoisseur. Should not I take in another kringle to compare. Surefire pleasure or chow-science. I went back and fourth. Finally, I decided I had to try Larsen's kringle just to see. And it is a story with a happy ending. Larson's had a strawberry kringle out to sample. And it aint Bendsten's. Too much shortening coffeecake and not enough sucrose injected crust. I got a few donuts so as not to hurt their feelings and headed back to Bendsten's. Of course, now I had to ruminate a long time over which variety. Pecan it was.
Kewpies and a Kringle
Surely, a place called Kewpie's possesses a child like quality. That is a reminding of child like quality. Kewpie's gleaming tile floor remind me intensely of school cafeterias, and the stainless steel trimmed formica tables existed in everyone's kitchen once upon a time. The effect was so profound that my Dad exclaimed how much the burgers reminded him of when he was a kid before taking one single bite. Mom at least waiting to sample her Kewpie burger, said it reminded her of McDonalds when it first got started.
The Kewpie burger gets started as one big kewpie loaf of meat. One grill man begins the kooking process by hacking off chunks of meat, then whacking, turning it into a patty. He retains responsibility for the burger for a few more columns, flipping and a-pounding. A second grill man takes over for the last two columns. By keeping a couple of kids busy, the burger is well cooked but NOT over cooked by the time it ends up in your bun. It gets a strong dose of catsup, and here is a case where the maligned condiment acts more as a sauce. The pickles were inside the bun but my heart went flippity-flop nonetheless. Fries are crinkle cut but nothing special, but the homemade rootbeer is nicely dry the way I like it (although not nearly as complex or medical as modern yuppie root beers). With a kringle, it makes a fine lunch.
But where to kringle. It was a decision vexing me all day. I so had loved Bendsten's. Yet, I was a connoisseur. Should not I take in another kringle to compare. Surefire pleasure or chow-science. I went back and fourth. Finally, I decided I had to try Larsen's kringle just to see. And it is a story with a happy ending. Larson's had a strawberry kringle out to sample. And it aint Bendsten's. Too much shortening coffeecake and not enough sucrose injected crust. I got a few donuts so as not to hurt their feelings and headed back to Bendsten's. Of course, now I had to ruminate a long time over which variety. Pecan it was.
Sunday, February 20, 2005
Kringle Follow Up Follow-Up
I realized that after I wrote this, I just kinda assumed everyone would know what a Racine kringle is, but for those who do not, I add the following notes:
It seems that in the early 20th century a pack of Danes (shall we call them Great Danes?) picked themselves up and moved to Racine Wisconsin, a minor industrial town somewhere between Chicago and Milwaukee. And if Milwaukee is mostly Chicago frozen than I suppose Racine is a stunted version of Milwaukee. Anyways, the Danes kinda peaked in Racine when Frank Lloyd Wright designed (perhaps) the greatest commercial building ever. The Johnson Wax HQ. And the Dane's opened bakeries, including Bendsten's selling various pastries. Somehow, however, they settled as their calling card, their collective speciality, their gift to their new world word, the kringle.
I believe, but am not positive, that in Denmark, the kringle is a holiday pastry, a buche noel, a pannetone, a figgy pudding. In Racine, it is the raison d'etre for visiting the town (well that at the Johnson Wax buidling). It is an oval pastry, about the shape of a miniture Indianapolis Motor Speedway. It can be filled or just garnished with nuts. In fact, pecans are considered the classic kringle decor, and in nod to real agriculture that warms my little sustainable heart, the kringleries in Racine right now either are not selling pecan kringles or selling them at an up-charge 'cause of an apparant pecan shortage. Besides being oval, the other distinguising visual feature of a kringle, especially compared to normal coffee cake is its flatness. As I noted above, the flatness comes from packing a thousand layer of flavor into something less than an inch.
I realized that after I wrote this, I just kinda assumed everyone would know what a Racine kringle is, but for those who do not, I add the following notes:
It seems that in the early 20th century a pack of Danes (shall we call them Great Danes?) picked themselves up and moved to Racine Wisconsin, a minor industrial town somewhere between Chicago and Milwaukee. And if Milwaukee is mostly Chicago frozen than I suppose Racine is a stunted version of Milwaukee. Anyways, the Danes kinda peaked in Racine when Frank Lloyd Wright designed (perhaps) the greatest commercial building ever. The Johnson Wax HQ. And the Dane's opened bakeries, including Bendsten's selling various pastries. Somehow, however, they settled as their calling card, their collective speciality, their gift to their new world word, the kringle.
I believe, but am not positive, that in Denmark, the kringle is a holiday pastry, a buche noel, a pannetone, a figgy pudding. In Racine, it is the raison d'etre for visiting the town (well that at the Johnson Wax buidling). It is an oval pastry, about the shape of a miniture Indianapolis Motor Speedway. It can be filled or just garnished with nuts. In fact, pecans are considered the classic kringle decor, and in nod to real agriculture that warms my little sustainable heart, the kringleries in Racine right now either are not selling pecan kringles or selling them at an up-charge 'cause of an apparant pecan shortage. Besides being oval, the other distinguising visual feature of a kringle, especially compared to normal coffee cake is its flatness. As I noted above, the flatness comes from packing a thousand layer of flavor into something less than an inch.
Saturday, February 19, 2005
Kringle Follow-up
The Bendsten's kringle has been gone for several days, and I have yet to post. As I mentioned to a fellow kringle lover the other day, I wish to expound on the kringle but fear my skills will not do it justice. Perhaps, the mere fact that I ate a Bendsten's kringle pretty much solo in about two days makes a statement. Yet, when do hounds associate mere gluttony with sublime taste? I could not stop myself from eating this pastry because it was so good.
Great. How many times shall I say it. Great. The five letter word of one with little else to say. I shant have a post on kringles just saying great, great, great, great, great, great, great. How was the kringle great. Well, as someone else who recently ate a Bendsten's kringle knows, the defining feature is crisp. You think of Danish pastry as buttery, flaky, rich. Does crisp come to mind? The Bendsten kringle was krisp. Crisp almost in an odd way because it was both crisp and moist. It is as if a thousand layers of pastry were crushed under a hydraulic press. Inside the kringle you can still see some of the layers, like certain types of geology, but it was one stone. And it was like the heat of that press altered those top layers into something burnished. Inside could be gooey--and I would be remiss to say that it was great goo, not at all cloying or artificial tasting. In fact, the balance of the interior layers and the fillings against those top layers of crunch made that crispness all the more remarkable. Yes, it was great!
Luckily for me, I reside not in Racine, but its neighbor 100 miles south. My waistline cannot stand very many kringles in the house. I have no willpower around a Bendsten's kringle. Like some crazed rat in an experiment, I eat kringle until my stomach aches. I eat kringle past when my stomach aches because its pleasure overrides all other sensations. It is only the revelation that I have hacked off my third chunk of kringle that gets me to stop. Hack I say. The urge for kringle was so strong that after the initial try, after I was initially hooked, I did not wait for plate or knife. I would reach into the kringle bag and rip out some kringle. Eat it in bliss and then rip out another slab. And you wonder how I could eat that in a mere two days.
In conclusion, please get your own Bendsten's kringle to learn what my words cannot describe. What's more, I have concluded that one cannot actually control their kringle consumption. It is actually something someone should buy for someone else. Purchase Bendsten's kringles for me. Ration me. Help me eat a regular portion of kringle. We will all benefit.
The Bendsten's kringle has been gone for several days, and I have yet to post. As I mentioned to a fellow kringle lover the other day, I wish to expound on the kringle but fear my skills will not do it justice. Perhaps, the mere fact that I ate a Bendsten's kringle pretty much solo in about two days makes a statement. Yet, when do hounds associate mere gluttony with sublime taste? I could not stop myself from eating this pastry because it was so good.
Great. How many times shall I say it. Great. The five letter word of one with little else to say. I shant have a post on kringles just saying great, great, great, great, great, great, great. How was the kringle great. Well, as someone else who recently ate a Bendsten's kringle knows, the defining feature is crisp. You think of Danish pastry as buttery, flaky, rich. Does crisp come to mind? The Bendsten kringle was krisp. Crisp almost in an odd way because it was both crisp and moist. It is as if a thousand layers of pastry were crushed under a hydraulic press. Inside the kringle you can still see some of the layers, like certain types of geology, but it was one stone. And it was like the heat of that press altered those top layers into something burnished. Inside could be gooey--and I would be remiss to say that it was great goo, not at all cloying or artificial tasting. In fact, the balance of the interior layers and the fillings against those top layers of crunch made that crispness all the more remarkable. Yes, it was great!
Luckily for me, I reside not in Racine, but its neighbor 100 miles south. My waistline cannot stand very many kringles in the house. I have no willpower around a Bendsten's kringle. Like some crazed rat in an experiment, I eat kringle until my stomach aches. I eat kringle past when my stomach aches because its pleasure overrides all other sensations. It is only the revelation that I have hacked off my third chunk of kringle that gets me to stop. Hack I say. The urge for kringle was so strong that after the initial try, after I was initially hooked, I did not wait for plate or knife. I would reach into the kringle bag and rip out some kringle. Eat it in bliss and then rip out another slab. And you wonder how I could eat that in a mere two days.
In conclusion, please get your own Bendsten's kringle to learn what my words cannot describe. What's more, I have concluded that one cannot actually control their kringle consumption. It is actually something someone should buy for someone else. Purchase Bendsten's kringles for me. Ration me. Help me eat a regular portion of kringle. We will all benefit.
Sunday, February 13, 2005
Kewpie was Klosed. We Still Kringled
Probably like a lot of families, the VI family vacillates between Saturday’s crammed with plans and Saturday’s devoid of obligations—actually like most families, we have much less of the latter. But we did yesterday. A plan less day. And we were not gonna let that go to waste (especially with the false spring weather). We reduced our choices to Strongbow Inn, for an out of season Thanksgiving lunch or Racine for the never visited “Hamburg with pickle on top, Makes your heart go flippity-flop” Kewpie’s (plus a Kringle for dessert). Well, you can see the math here right? Racine = burger AND kringle, Valparaiso = just turkey lunch. It was off to Wisconsin. And of course, Wisconsin is one of the most chowiest states around. It would be a FULL day of eating.
Travel north to Wisconsin just a few times and you know exactly when you cross the border. I am not sure the reason for the boundary between Illinois and Wisconsin. It follows no river or other obvious line. Yet, it is very apparent when you are in the state to the north of ours—and I do not mean just because all the cars fly their green and yellow flags, and the frontage roads are lined with adult book stores. Physically, the state looks different, even before you hit any rolling kettle moraine. And Illinois does not have cheese shops off of Interstate exits.
It does take two exits to get to the cheese. One must be a patient traveler in Wisconsin. The Mars Cheese Castle beckons, but Bobby Nelson seems 100% more real. In fact, Bobby Nelson’s Cheese Shop is so obviously non-obvious, that I feared it would be less good in a Larry David kinda way. Mars is big and prominent and looks of many recent additions. It is right there. Bobby Nelson’s is small, retro, and with Wall Drug allure, the mysterious sign advertising, mitt or mittout. Since this is Wisconsin, that chowiest of states, both places are worth a visit. Yes, Bobby Nelson’s is better, more real, with an engaging owner who runs through the mitt and mittout (with or without garlic) and talks up the bison-pheasant farm made by 400 lb Tiny who runs a nearby bison farm. At Bobby Nelson's, we also pick up some smoke salmon and the de rigueur cheese shaped like the state of Wisconsin. I wanted to buy nearly everyone of the Koepsel Door County canned products, so instead got none. Mars has a huge and intriguing selection of Wisconsin booze, a classic backwoods Wisconsin bar where one can eat cheese spread and drink brandy old fashions, and a ton of other things to buy--this would be the ideal store to shop up pre-Super Bowl. The irony of the day is, that Mars, while not as good as Bobby Nelson’s, turned out to be better than a few shops in Racine not geared towards tourists. And since this was Wisconsin, we picked up excellent cheddar cheese bread and King of Clubs cheese spread (preternaturally delicious) at Mars.
The road to Kewpie’s goes right through Old Racine, once the heart of Danish America. Which means the oval flaky pastry called kringle. We stopped for kringle. Put money in the meter, then decided lunch should come before dessert. We continued on downtown, where we found, to our sadness, Kewpie took the week off for vacation. Undaunted, we immediately turned to a place we saw on the way towards Kewpie, The Balkan Restaurant. After all, I figured, one of the most famous place’s in Racine’s northern suburb, Milwaukee, was the Serbian Three Brothers, why not in Racine proper. (I’ve never been to 3 Brothers, but years ago, it used to bother me that the Stern’s included the ethnic place for Milwaukee in their book, but did not include similar places from Chicago.)
While we still crave a Kewpie burger, Balkan highly satisfied. The owners come from Slavic Macedonia. They limit their traditional fare to a few items, borek wedges served with hime-made chicken barley soup, sarma (stuffed cabbage) and kebapi, the archetypical Balkan “sausage” of ground meat and baking soda. Many a time, I have not loved kebapi (or its variations), but this place fried them real well and served them with a highly spicy red pepper-eggplant condiment. Great. Chunks of potato, American fries, crisp on one side, also helped ease the pain of missing Kewpie.
If seeking out tiny hamburger chains is Dad’s thing, the chowhounditas HAVE to get up close and personal with any major body of water. From Balkan, we walked to the edge of Lake Michigan. There, a panic attack hit me worse than the one over controlling myself with Bobby Nelson’s inventory. Would the kringle shops still be open? Bakeries do close early on weekends, no? Luckily, I have noted Racine-phile, Chowhound SethZ’s number on the speed dial. He did not know exactly when the Danish bakeries closed, but he was kind enough to get me some needed telephone numbers. Finding out I had (at least) a few hours to spare, let me enjoy the lakefront, plus time to shop downtown Racine’s Century Market. Earlier in the day, we theorized that there would be a relationship between the quality of food shops and their distance to the Interstate, but Century and later Borzynski proved us wrong. This store was nothing special and had way less Wisconsin stuff than Bobby Nelson or Mars. Because we are chowists, we bought out nearly all the vintage cook books at a bookstore on 6th Avenue (including Luchow’s German Cookbook from 1952 and a 1948 Scandinavian book). Still, there was the problem that the Kondiment Kween demanded an espresso before her daily cut-off at 3 PM.
Downtown Racine is no Harlem Avenue. We returned though to Old Racine for coffee and pastry. Bendsten’s, probably considered the best kringlery has a café, but it looked pathetic. We decided to get a few kringles (well one for us and one for SethZ). JeffB notes that this is the best version of coffee cake he’s ever had, and he passes on the fact that the pastry is about 85% fat. Down the street from Bendsten’s is Wilson’s Coffee and Tea. They roast their own coffee but over extract their espresso. I ran across the street to Larsen’s, one of Bendsten’s prime kringle rivals. I skipped the kringels here (knowing by the time I finished my Bendsten's kringle, the other would be stale) but took full advantage of Larsen's end of day special. Most of the donuts and Danish cost only 25 cents. The one I ate on the spot, a cherry diamond, tasted only worth 25 cents, too dense and sweet, but the cake donut I had the next day was good—and I have about $2 still to try. We also picked up 2 half pounds of Wilson’s coffee. Hopefully the beans beat the brew.
And we could not leave this stretch of Racine without trying DeRango “the Pizza” King. It cost less than $6 for a 12 inch, cheese heavy, thin-thin pizza. A little too much garlic powder in the sauce made it a tad less than ideal for me.
On the way out of Racine we visited Borzynski’s Farm Market. I finally gave in and bought expensive Wisconsin cherry jam and expensive Wisconsin Kallas honey (for the impending household honey tasting). As I mentioned above, this place was not as impressive as Mars or Bobby Nelson.
I would say our last chow stop of the day was Miro’s Charcoal House Little Europe, but after dinner and when the kidz should have been hitting the hay, we caught the outlet mall still open. There, there is a gourmet shop where Ms. VI picked up some needed glass bowls, and I got an extra bitter orange marmalade from Maxim’s de Paris (really!). Our original plan was Ray Ratigan's, but Miro's tempted from the expressway. It need’s its own report, which I will do.
Bobby Nelson's Cheese Shop Fine Cheese, Gifts
2924 120th Ave.
Kenosha, WI
Mars Cheese Factory
2800 120th Ave
Kenosha, WI
Kewpie's
520 Wisconsin Ave
Racine, WI
Three Brothers
2414 S. St. Clair
Milwaukee, WI
The Balkan Restaurant "A Bit of Balkan"
605 Sixth Street
Racine, WI
Martha Merrell's Books
312 Sixth Street
Racine, WI
Century Market
506 Sixth Street
Racine, WI
Bendtsen's Bakery
3200 Washington
Racine, WI
Wilson's Coffee and Tea
3306 Washington
Racine, WI
Larsen Bakery
3311 Washington
Racine, WI
DeRango "The Pizza King"
3114 Washington Ave.
Racine, WI
Borzynski's Farm and Floral Market
11600 Washington
Racine, WI
Miro's Charcoal House Little Europe
6613 120th Ave.
Kenosha, WI
Le Gourmet Chef
11211 120th Ave.
Pleaasant Prarie, WI
Probably like a lot of families, the VI family vacillates between Saturday’s crammed with plans and Saturday’s devoid of obligations—actually like most families, we have much less of the latter. But we did yesterday. A plan less day. And we were not gonna let that go to waste (especially with the false spring weather). We reduced our choices to Strongbow Inn, for an out of season Thanksgiving lunch or Racine for the never visited “Hamburg with pickle on top, Makes your heart go flippity-flop” Kewpie’s (plus a Kringle for dessert). Well, you can see the math here right? Racine = burger AND kringle, Valparaiso = just turkey lunch. It was off to Wisconsin. And of course, Wisconsin is one of the most chowiest states around. It would be a FULL day of eating.
Travel north to Wisconsin just a few times and you know exactly when you cross the border. I am not sure the reason for the boundary between Illinois and Wisconsin. It follows no river or other obvious line. Yet, it is very apparent when you are in the state to the north of ours—and I do not mean just because all the cars fly their green and yellow flags, and the frontage roads are lined with adult book stores. Physically, the state looks different, even before you hit any rolling kettle moraine. And Illinois does not have cheese shops off of Interstate exits.
It does take two exits to get to the cheese. One must be a patient traveler in Wisconsin. The Mars Cheese Castle beckons, but Bobby Nelson seems 100% more real. In fact, Bobby Nelson’s Cheese Shop is so obviously non-obvious, that I feared it would be less good in a Larry David kinda way. Mars is big and prominent and looks of many recent additions. It is right there. Bobby Nelson’s is small, retro, and with Wall Drug allure, the mysterious sign advertising, mitt or mittout. Since this is Wisconsin, that chowiest of states, both places are worth a visit. Yes, Bobby Nelson’s is better, more real, with an engaging owner who runs through the mitt and mittout (with or without garlic) and talks up the bison-pheasant farm made by 400 lb Tiny who runs a nearby bison farm. At Bobby Nelson's, we also pick up some smoke salmon and the de rigueur cheese shaped like the state of Wisconsin. I wanted to buy nearly everyone of the Koepsel Door County canned products, so instead got none. Mars has a huge and intriguing selection of Wisconsin booze, a classic backwoods Wisconsin bar where one can eat cheese spread and drink brandy old fashions, and a ton of other things to buy--this would be the ideal store to shop up pre-Super Bowl. The irony of the day is, that Mars, while not as good as Bobby Nelson’s, turned out to be better than a few shops in Racine not geared towards tourists. And since this was Wisconsin, we picked up excellent cheddar cheese bread and King of Clubs cheese spread (preternaturally delicious) at Mars.
The road to Kewpie’s goes right through Old Racine, once the heart of Danish America. Which means the oval flaky pastry called kringle. We stopped for kringle. Put money in the meter, then decided lunch should come before dessert. We continued on downtown, where we found, to our sadness, Kewpie took the week off for vacation. Undaunted, we immediately turned to a place we saw on the way towards Kewpie, The Balkan Restaurant. After all, I figured, one of the most famous place’s in Racine’s northern suburb, Milwaukee, was the Serbian Three Brothers, why not in Racine proper. (I’ve never been to 3 Brothers, but years ago, it used to bother me that the Stern’s included the ethnic place for Milwaukee in their book, but did not include similar places from Chicago.)
While we still crave a Kewpie burger, Balkan highly satisfied. The owners come from Slavic Macedonia. They limit their traditional fare to a few items, borek wedges served with hime-made chicken barley soup, sarma (stuffed cabbage) and kebapi, the archetypical Balkan “sausage” of ground meat and baking soda. Many a time, I have not loved kebapi (or its variations), but this place fried them real well and served them with a highly spicy red pepper-eggplant condiment. Great. Chunks of potato, American fries, crisp on one side, also helped ease the pain of missing Kewpie.
If seeking out tiny hamburger chains is Dad’s thing, the chowhounditas HAVE to get up close and personal with any major body of water. From Balkan, we walked to the edge of Lake Michigan. There, a panic attack hit me worse than the one over controlling myself with Bobby Nelson’s inventory. Would the kringle shops still be open? Bakeries do close early on weekends, no? Luckily, I have noted Racine-phile, Chowhound SethZ’s number on the speed dial. He did not know exactly when the Danish bakeries closed, but he was kind enough to get me some needed telephone numbers. Finding out I had (at least) a few hours to spare, let me enjoy the lakefront, plus time to shop downtown Racine’s Century Market. Earlier in the day, we theorized that there would be a relationship between the quality of food shops and their distance to the Interstate, but Century and later Borzynski proved us wrong. This store was nothing special and had way less Wisconsin stuff than Bobby Nelson or Mars. Because we are chowists, we bought out nearly all the vintage cook books at a bookstore on 6th Avenue (including Luchow’s German Cookbook from 1952 and a 1948 Scandinavian book). Still, there was the problem that the Kondiment Kween demanded an espresso before her daily cut-off at 3 PM.
Downtown Racine is no Harlem Avenue. We returned though to Old Racine for coffee and pastry. Bendsten’s, probably considered the best kringlery has a café, but it looked pathetic. We decided to get a few kringles (well one for us and one for SethZ). JeffB notes that this is the best version of coffee cake he’s ever had, and he passes on the fact that the pastry is about 85% fat. Down the street from Bendsten’s is Wilson’s Coffee and Tea. They roast their own coffee but over extract their espresso. I ran across the street to Larsen’s, one of Bendsten’s prime kringle rivals. I skipped the kringels here (knowing by the time I finished my Bendsten's kringle, the other would be stale) but took full advantage of Larsen's end of day special. Most of the donuts and Danish cost only 25 cents. The one I ate on the spot, a cherry diamond, tasted only worth 25 cents, too dense and sweet, but the cake donut I had the next day was good—and I have about $2 still to try. We also picked up 2 half pounds of Wilson’s coffee. Hopefully the beans beat the brew.
And we could not leave this stretch of Racine without trying DeRango “the Pizza” King. It cost less than $6 for a 12 inch, cheese heavy, thin-thin pizza. A little too much garlic powder in the sauce made it a tad less than ideal for me.
On the way out of Racine we visited Borzynski’s Farm Market. I finally gave in and bought expensive Wisconsin cherry jam and expensive Wisconsin Kallas honey (for the impending household honey tasting). As I mentioned above, this place was not as impressive as Mars or Bobby Nelson.
I would say our last chow stop of the day was Miro’s Charcoal House Little Europe, but after dinner and when the kidz should have been hitting the hay, we caught the outlet mall still open. There, there is a gourmet shop where Ms. VI picked up some needed glass bowls, and I got an extra bitter orange marmalade from Maxim’s de Paris (really!). Our original plan was Ray Ratigan's, but Miro's tempted from the expressway. It need’s its own report, which I will do.
Bobby Nelson's Cheese Shop Fine Cheese, Gifts
2924 120th Ave.
Kenosha, WI
Mars Cheese Factory
2800 120th Ave
Kenosha, WI
Kewpie's
520 Wisconsin Ave
Racine, WI
Three Brothers
2414 S. St. Clair
Milwaukee, WI
The Balkan Restaurant "A Bit of Balkan"
605 Sixth Street
Racine, WI
Martha Merrell's Books
312 Sixth Street
Racine, WI
Century Market
506 Sixth Street
Racine, WI
Bendtsen's Bakery
3200 Washington
Racine, WI
Wilson's Coffee and Tea
3306 Washington
Racine, WI
Larsen Bakery
3311 Washington
Racine, WI
DeRango "The Pizza King"
3114 Washington Ave.
Racine, WI
Borzynski's Farm and Floral Market
11600 Washington
Racine, WI
Miro's Charcoal House Little Europe
6613 120th Ave.
Kenosha, WI
Le Gourmet Chef
11211 120th Ave.
Pleaasant Prarie, WI
Friday, February 04, 2005
Oranges Continued
While Oranges do have a long shelf live, they do not last that long. So, I thought it prudent to do our orange tasting with what we had in-house. Tasters were me, the two Chowhounditas and the Condiment Queen.
1. Blood Orange - Sunkist, purchased at Trader Joe's - One taster declared this the best; another declared it tied for best. Inside the orange is not orange (of course) but dark ruby red. It smells much different than the other oranges too, an aroma called after much debate, "unique." In the mouth, it was both strongly sweet and strongly sour, mimicking raspberries. In the best Wonka-way, it managed to change as was eaten.
2. Temple Orange - Florida - This was the favorite orange of two tasters and tied for favorite from a third. The inside of this orange is very bright, not like a real orange but like a picture of an orange. In fact, this is the orange's orange. One taster described its flavor as "classic", and it had a strong citrusy smell or smell associated with orange sprays. It was not too sweet, with some astringency on the tongue. One taster found it close to a grapefruit. As I have noted before, lots of seeds.
3. Clementine - "Darling" - Spain - Also from Trader Joe's - The orange itself has an intense odor, so strong one person called it medicinal. The flesh of this orange was much firmer than the previous two, but the flavor was also much fainter than the first two. One taster described the orange as watery. This was the least favorite of two tasters.
4. Navel - Heller - Florida - This orange had a pronounced lemony scent, and the taste was also more sour than the above oranges with just the barest bit of sweetness at the finish. This orange has a very meaty and pulpy fruit. The pleasure of this orange comes from the way it feels in the mouth. A texture orange not a taste orange.
5. Organic Tangerine - Florida (Not an orange per se!) - We all picked up melon aromas from this fruit, one taster found it smelled a lot like a cantaloupe The flavor itself was flat and overly sweet. Two of the tasters found this their least favorite.
While Oranges do have a long shelf live, they do not last that long. So, I thought it prudent to do our orange tasting with what we had in-house. Tasters were me, the two Chowhounditas and the Condiment Queen.
1. Blood Orange - Sunkist, purchased at Trader Joe's - One taster declared this the best; another declared it tied for best. Inside the orange is not orange (of course) but dark ruby red. It smells much different than the other oranges too, an aroma called after much debate, "unique." In the mouth, it was both strongly sweet and strongly sour, mimicking raspberries. In the best Wonka-way, it managed to change as was eaten.
2. Temple Orange - Florida - This was the favorite orange of two tasters and tied for favorite from a third. The inside of this orange is very bright, not like a real orange but like a picture of an orange. In fact, this is the orange's orange. One taster described its flavor as "classic", and it had a strong citrusy smell or smell associated with orange sprays. It was not too sweet, with some astringency on the tongue. One taster found it close to a grapefruit. As I have noted before, lots of seeds.
3. Clementine - "Darling" - Spain - Also from Trader Joe's - The orange itself has an intense odor, so strong one person called it medicinal. The flesh of this orange was much firmer than the previous two, but the flavor was also much fainter than the first two. One taster described the orange as watery. This was the least favorite of two tasters.
4. Navel - Heller - Florida - This orange had a pronounced lemony scent, and the taste was also more sour than the above oranges with just the barest bit of sweetness at the finish. This orange has a very meaty and pulpy fruit. The pleasure of this orange comes from the way it feels in the mouth. A texture orange not a taste orange.
5. Organic Tangerine - Florida (Not an orange per se!) - We all picked up melon aromas from this fruit, one taster found it smelled a lot like a cantaloupe The flavor itself was flat and overly sweet. Two of the tasters found this their least favorite.
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