eateasyMGM: The Lamb of Antifragility

So, I was in the office during lunch trying to get my mind around the concept of "Antifragile" in the book by Nassim Nicholas  Taleb, when across the transom came an email from "eateasyMGM" with a Paperless Post invitation to enjoy the "Celebration of Spring Lamb" at some location to be named later at a date certain.  "Hello, I said to myself.  What, I thought, is this?"  I had just been reading how some things (like evolution) gain from disorder when I received the email and went to the eateasyMGM Facebook page which described it as "An underground dining experience featuring progressive cuisine in one night only engagements." Some quick research and I found news articles and great photographs about a prior event at True that had sold out in a short time:

Since I enjoy lamb, I bit. After some frustrating efforts to pay via credit card when you do not have a PayPal account (a sure sign the founders are much younger than I), I was able to obtain confirmation of payment for two for the evening before I found out this event again sold out in less than 30 minutes.

I went back to reading "Antifragile" and suddenly became more interested in the discussions about how individual restaurants appear to be fragile businesses that fail often whereas the overall restaurant business is antifragile because as long as there are humans there will be a strong demand for all types of food at various costs.  We in the Gump have seen periods when we lost restaurants at frightening clips--some of them favorites of ours: The Sahara, The Elite and even Lunde's have passed on despite loyal followings.  Yet, like cells dividing, new restaurants with excellent food have taken their places.  But, as Taleb would remind us, these individual restaurants are all fragile.  A chef's departure or a fire can ruin an apparently successful restaurant in a short period of time.

It hit me: eateasyMGM has no building, no executive chef, no overhead and no requirement to be great every night.  It just needs a random location, a visiting chef, a small wait staff and fantastic food only once a month for people who are notified by email.  Why, it may be the poster-child of "Antifragile." Now I was beginning to understand.

I anxiously awaited notification of where I was to be at the appointed hour.  Notice came only 24-48  hours before the event.  It was..."Lucas Tavern?"  The Lucas Tavern in Old Alabama Town?  Yes.  Ashamed as I was to have been living here for years without ever visiting Old Alabama Town, I was excited about the idea of eating a fine meal in a place tourists from all over world visit every day and which I, a so-called local, had never been.

When we arrived and walked through Lucas Tavern (a stop on the old Federal Road in the 1830s) and into the back to see the "kitchen," tables and bar arranged under a beautiful arbor set among a vintage church, school, home and other buildings from the period.  The Enlove Photos tell the story better than I ever could. Needless to say that the surroundings were unique.

Our celebrity chef for the evening was David Bancroft of Acre in Auburn.  The theme involved serving as much of one lamb could offer to those assembled.  We even had the farmer who raised the lamp speak of the lamb's last six months with sincere fondness. Why, I was almost reminded of the Portlandia skit about the couple that demanded to see the personnel file for "Collin" the chicken they had ordered.

The Randall Farms "Porchetta" with a lamb center.

The menu for the evening was unlike anything I had experienced in Montgomery. I wish I could remember the name of the lamb. (I mean its real name).  All I really remember was that the meal was an event and for the price of 45 worth every penny.  I hope that Enlove will not mind one picture of the lamb porchetta when it was cut on site:

Yum (not the food conglomerate) but just yum! That's lamb tenderloin and sausage wrapped in pork belly.

At the end of the evening we had devoured our lamb in the most respectful and sustainable manner possible enjoying fine condiments, breads and a desert along the way. Thank goodness I found my menu before the sustainable paper dissolved.  First, there was lamb heart "Tartare" with beet-anchovy mustard, fried capers, and celery sprouts.  Fantastic even without the tartar sauce. Next we had the potted lamb belly with beet horseradish, pickled Kohirabi (have no clue what that is), spring pea pesto, kumquat (a funny word) jelly and some delicious fresh bread.  The salad was lamb leg "crepinette" with romaine, roasted beets in gastrique and Oakview Farms cornbread croutons.  I have already described the main course "Porchetta" which was served with famous Oakview Farms grits.  Finally, dessert was lamb jerky drop biscuits with mandarin blossom honey, Oakview Farms strawberries and Belle Chevre Mousse. Seconds were had.  I would wager you haven't seen a menu like that in a while.

The moral to this story:  (1) Sometimes it helps to learn complicated and esoteric concepts by reducing them to real world examples. I now know to trust eateasyMGM to present a fine meal while remaining Antifragile; and (2) Do not wait long to respond to that email invitation if your sensibilities are fragile and you cannot handle being shut out at the kitchen window.

If you want to try eateasyMGM, you may be able can get on the email list by requesting access to eateasymgm@gmail.com.

How the Irish Bred Pub Saved Sequestration

When we think of civilized peoples and foods the Greeks, Italians, French and Chinese come quickly to mind. The Irish, on the other hand, are wild, feckless, charming, morose, repressed and corrupt, but not especially civilized. After all, they believe in Leprechauns and Notre Dame football. If we strain to think of "Irish civilization," no image appears, no Fertile Crescent or Indus Valley, no brooding bust of Beethoven. The simplest Greek restaurateur will name his establishment "Parthenon," thus linking himself to an imagined ancestral culture. A semi literate restaurateur of Sicilian origin will give pride of place to his plaster copy of Michelangelo's David, and so assert his presumed Renaissance ties. But an Irish businessman is far more likely to name his concern "O'Brien's" or "Irish Bred Pub," foregoing all attempts to link themselves to anything but the concept of Guinness Stout.

Ireland is a little island at the edge of Europe that has known neither Renaissance nor Enlightenment.  It is a country which in some ways is a Third World country with a Stone Age culture. However, other than saving western literature by copying the manuscripts of great works by hand in the dark ages, Ireland has had one other moment of unblemished glory: As restaurant after restaurant failed in downtown Montgomery a/k/a "the Gump," as all through the city matted, unwashed barbarians descended on the remains of hole's in the wall, looting artifacts and burning menus, the Irish Bred Pub owners, who apparently were just learning to construct a restaurant, took up the great labor of building a true pub in downtown Montgomery and plastering upon the walls thereof everything they could lay their hands on. As such, the owners of the Irish Bred Pub saved the Gump from sequestration or, at least, the fear thereof.

Picture a beautiful sunny and crisp Sunday in the Gump on March 3, 2013.  Our government, as our politicians bleated, had just self-destructed by imposing upon itself draconian and apocalyptic cuts that would soon cause commercial planes to crash into each other, bears in national parks to starve from the lack of tourist picnic baskets and our military to force women into combat. As you would expect, after the predictions of doom and gloom surrounding sequestration, the already prone to drink repressed Irishman in me, was lamenting my failure to convert all my assets into gold bullion and waiting for the sky to fall. After all, we Irishmen have an abiding sense of tragedy which sustains us through temporary periods of joy.

However, on my way to catch up at work on that same Sunday afternoon, I came upon an oasis on the corner of a deserted block of Dexter Avenue which was open and thriving with a lunch crowd serious about drinking and eating despite the reported impending collapse of our economy.  Yes, acting on intelligence from Squeak and the GGPs (see prior post)  I threw my morose mood aside and, after easily finding a place to park not far away, pulled upon the door to the Irish Bred Pub and stepped into a world where sequestration did not seem so daunting.

At 12 noon on Sundays at the Irish Bred Pub they begin to pour drinks of all kinds.  Guinness, Jameson, Car Bombs, Irish Coffee, Bailey's, Bushmills and, we hope, even the Middleton. The walls of this cozy three-story bar/restaurant are adorned with memorabilia, flat screens showing Tottenham v. Arsenal (English thugs), and Irish sayings galore.  The one that caught my eye as poignantly appropriate: "A politician should always think twice before he says nothing."  Of course, we Irish are a very fair people because we never speak well of one another. Unfortunately, our U.S. politicians are very unfair people because they only speak well of those who agree with them.  Or so says I.

Even the tartar sauce was good (and I do not like tartar sauce).

With a dark and tan Guinness at the ready and a large portion of fish and chips (with slaw) on my plate I struggled to muddle through the various viewpoints that had spewed from by Telly over the past through days.  Fortunately, the only thing on in the Irish Bred Pub was American basketball and English football so I could actually think for myself. The fish was delicious. 

Says I to myself, you know, says I, that if I only had to cut 3% from my budget over the next year I doubt I would miss anything too important. And if, as it appears, that was really only a cut of 3% from the growth of my income over the next year i.e. living without a raise this year, then I am pretty sure I could manage.  Problem is that nobody in Washington wants to lead us right now.  Indeed that is sad but it is definitely not the end of western civilization. It is only the beginning of sequestration.  And, says I, I and my friends at the Irish Bred Pub will survive sequestration.  Now, says I, if we could only get our leaders to become Irishmen.

Panda Wok and Woll

I am addicted to Asian food.  I am ashamed to say that I passed this addiction on to my daughters (The Foodie and Princess) while they were in the womb. As hard as I try, I can only go about a week without something with soy sauce on it.  Invariably, almost every weekend--especially when one of the girls are home--a low and strong craving builds until I have to pay a visit to one of my favorites like Asia Bistro or Green Papaya for some General Tso's Chicken with Hot and Sour soup or the like. Sometimes I am so anxious, I don't use the chopsticks.

After going this past Sunday afternoon without Asian food, I thought I would be distracted by the Super Bowl festivities at the Snobatorium with the silly hype about which brother the Harbaugh  parents loved best. I almost made it too.  Then, just before the half-time show and during the E-Trade Baby Commercial (which we all thought was one of the best but did not make the masses' top five) the following picture flashed on the screen for half a second:

Boom!

Well that put me over the edge. I could not sleep that evening without dreaming of egg rolls with duck sauce and waking with my hands trying to work chopsticks.  The next day, while heading out to the bypass, I saw the newly opened Panda Wok next to Nails by Ly (which are owned by the same person) near where our favorite Moody's Hardware used to be (3044 McGehee Road). (Take a trip to one of the big box hardware stores and realize what you are missing).  It is also across from the same sad strip mall  where Indian Palace and Del' Amalia had struggled so valiantly to survive--but failed.  With fond memories of those former Gump restaurants swirling in my head like fried won tons, I decided to give the Panda Wok a try. 

I passed on the Pu Pu Tray (Egg roll, crab Rangoon, fried shrimp, beef cho cho and BBQ Ribs), and went straight for the hot and sour soup, egg roll and the spicy Hong Kong chicken ( $5.75 at lunch).  Was quickly satisfied with the service, cleanliness and taste of the food.  They could have made it a little spicier for my taste because I am a hottie err...I like it hot.  They can make it as hot as you want I am sure.

I was enjoying my fare when on the news came a story about a party at the Kappa Sigma house at Duke where they celebrated (or ridiculed) Asians and new-English speaker's difficulties with pronouncing the letter "L": One email featured the puppet character of former Korean leader Kim Jong-Il from "Team America: World Police" and reads "Herro Nice Duke Peopre" in a misspelling intended to convey an east Asian accent.

Deck the halls with boughs of horrey.....

Some of the students interviewed were outraged while others thought there were more important things to protest.  In any event, those clueless Kappa Sigs have apologized to anyone who did not understand they meant no lasting harm by hosting their "International Affairs" party. But it certainly appears insensitive to make fun of the way new-Americans butcher the accents just like they made fun of me in Venice last September when I tried to say "Per favore" or "Grazie" with a U.S. Southern accent.

Anyway, I was enjoying my lunch and the warm feeling in my stomach as the soy and duck sauce kicked in, thinking about the Panda in the hot tub with the E-Trade Baby and the party at Duke and trying to make sense of it all when the waitress came to me with my check and asked:

"wrill dat be arw?"

I have now learned that hot and sour soup can clean out your sinuses.  However, I do not recommend it.

WokaWoka.

Panda Wok
3044 McGehee Road
Montgomery, AL. 36111
Tel (334) 649-4649.

[Ed. Note: Tuffy is our newest Gumphead and this is her first attempt to amuse us.  Please give her only sensitive comments]

 

Chick Magnet with Real Girlfriend Rates Chicken Salad Chick/Five Guys

The love of my life...

My fictitious internet girlfriend, who has cancer, urged me to try a relatively new restaurant on Zelda Road. When you visit the bathrooms at Chicken Salad Chick you will either enter the "Chicks" or the "Chick Magnets" doors.  Limited to those two choices I fall squarely into the "Chick Magnet" category.   With "Chick Magnet" as my literal qualification, let me tell you about my recent visit to this new lunch place next to Five Guys Burgers and Fries in the Z-Red district. You could not find two lunch spots more diametrically opposed than these neighbors.

My first observation upon entering the Chick was "Trix are for Kids" or more accurately "Chicks is for Chicks."  In other words, I was badly outnumbered.  The few girly men I saw there were with anemic looking earthy girls who I guessed had already sworn off red meat and were considering going completely vegetarian. It reminded me of some jokes I had heard a stand up comedian do about guys who pretend to like vegetarian dishes when they date vegetarians but who--after bedding them--grab a Five Guys Double Cheeseburger with a bag-full of fries on the way home saying: "Man I am starved.  Mmmph. Mmmph. I can't believe she bought that sh*t!" The comedian goes on to say that he is reluctant to tell the joke to a large crowd because almost invariably one guy will drop his head in shame and his skinny date will angrily ask: "You told me someone else threw those greasy bags in your backseat!" before stomping off in a huff with higher life form vegetarian greenhouse gases in her wake. ("Why I'd bet there are fewer greenhouse gases coming from the back of an SUV than from the tailpipe of a hippie!")

Dearest Catfish.

My Internet girlfriend, my soul-mate, says she likes Catfish or that she is a Catfish.  Ha ha. She is so humorous.  She is the funniest girl I have never met.

A lunch for men with internet girlfriend soul mates...

My second observation was that the chicken salad was that finely ground up kind that I do not like that you can dip with an ice-cream scoop and plop on a slice of nondescript sourdough bread before squishing the mound flat by the top slice. I must confess I am a "chunky" chicken salad fan.  And the price was not cheap. With a glass of "Minute Maid" lemonade and a small pasta salad the tab came to $10.10.  The food was certainly good, the restaurant and servers were cute and clean.  But I have had much better "chicken" salad from Noni's when she was open near Shashy's. I have also enjoyed the turkey salad with large chunks that Allpots brought me from Bushwood CC one time when I was confined to quarters in my ankle bracelet.  So, unless you are dating a girl who really likes Chicken Salad Chick and don't mind leaving hungry, I would suggest you go next door for a burger and fries at Five Guys.

A manly burger for guys with real girlfriends!

We sort of reviewed Five Guys out at East Chase some time ago. For that post click here.  Normally we try to stay within the Gump and rate only non-chains. (Former cons don't like the word 'chains'). But in this case we have made two exceptions: Both Five Guys and Chicken Salad Chick are apparently chains.  But at least they are now squarely in the Gump and it's only a short drive from downtown to Ann Street/Zelda Road. And, I note, Chicken Salad Chick was founded in Opelika and apparently owned by proper Southerners.

Sackful of Five Guys fries needs its own chair.

So when the gang tried the new Five Guys on Zelda Road during the week between Christmas and New Years we learned several things:  First, do not order the regular fries for more than one person.  They fill the sack with enough fries to feed four fat people.  Second, get large numbers of ketchup cupettes filled and gather reams of napkins while you are waiting.  Third, avoid the free peanuts during your wait because you won't have any room left to eat your burger and fries if you do.

Preparing the landing zone for the big burgers...INCOMING!

I would point out that we did witness first hand a lower echelon miracle of sorts (would that be called a minicale?) Just before the Notre Dame blowout during our trip to Five Guys we noticed that in the short time it took to take the bag to our table that our bag filled with a burger and fries and already been soaked through with grease stains in the likeness of Alabama Coach Nick Saban.  We have the picture to prove it.  Of course, because of the terms of my parole I could not place an actual bet on the game, if I had a bookie I would have loaded up on Bama after seeing that greasy sack Saban face.  He was even in full blown "Saban Rage" mode.  Also, if I had known that Alabama quarterback A.J. McCarren had a carney-like tattoo on his chest the size of a basketball that would have sealed the deal because everyone knows that Catholics are deathly afraid of the carnies.

You can see the rage of St. Nick burning through the receipt

But back to the food.  The burgers are good but pricey. The coma that ensues upon eating at Five Guys means that it really is a place you should visit no more than once a month unless you are skipping meals before a visit.  Caution: Do not operate heavy machinery after a Five Guy's meal. This is definitely man vs. food.  Not chick v. snack.

Which brings us full circle and wraps this post up neatly.  There are two restaurants next to each other in Z-Red that could not be more different to a Chick magnet with a real girlfriend I have actually met...in person.

Trust me, this is....

Despite the uncertainties arising from the Fiscal Cliff debate, I decided to treat myself and my Latin lover Rufio to a dinner at True in the happening No-Clo district of the Gump this past Friday where we enjoyed  great service (thanks Chris), reasonably priced and decent house wines by the glass, and a tasty--although slightly chewy--prime rib for me and a delicious grilled snapper on a bed of mushroom puree and Brussels sprouts for Rufie.  I know, Whiggin Blanquet, that mushrooms are not precious truffles, but Rufio purred with surprised delight at the flavor of the puree as if they were cooked with a fine truffle oil. Indeed, my nose, which has saved a few of the LITG members from suspicious smelling entrees, detected the hint of truffle coming from Rufio's plate on the other side of the table.

Of course the place--formerly known as Roux--is run by James Beard Award Nominee Chef & Owner Wesley True who brings his national talent to Montgomery. After working for John Currence at City Grocery, Marcus Samuelson at NYC's Aquavit, Wesley has brought TRUE from Mobile to Montgomery.

True has an adventurous cuisine and a gypsy heart, sort of like me.  Chicken and syrup on waffles, Elk burgers and lamb meatloaf are among the current dinner selections.  Interesting and fun food combinations to be sure.  It is no coincidence that man's best friend cannot talk, but at least we can blog and you can take this to the bark: True is an interesting dining experience.

I mean, other than a slight disappointment with a cut of meat not up to very good restaurant standards a/k/a "Butter Beast," Rufie and I had a terrific experience at a reasonable price i.e. $50 a pooch.  After the meal a nightcap at the dog-friendly Pine Bar water bowl next door put an enjoyable exclamation point on a fine evening for some humble hounds in the good ole Gump.

So verily I say: Try True and enjoy.