Celebrating New Year's Eve at The Pine Street Cafe

I took lunch today at a little known Gump cafe (short for cafeteria) which has been operating at 1725 Pine Street near beautiful Oak Park for over 75 years.  The Pine Street Cafe offers a variety of entrees, vegetables, desserts and salads all in an open selection format similar to the Commerce Cafe in the Center for Commerce.  This usually overlooked place offers amenities few other Gump eateries can match.  If, for example, you find your tasty grilled Tilapia wedged in your throat, highly-trained medical professionals are just a few steps away. In fact, a lot of the clientele today appeared to be rich doctors and beautiful nurses so you know the food must be outstanding. Although one normally needs someone to arrange formal admission .  It it is not an exclusive eatery like The Club.  Thankfully there is rarely a need for reservations at lunch. It is also extremely convenient for me when I visit my dear Mum who is recuperating from a broken leg in the nearby clinic.

Today I took a walk on the wilder side and selected the grilled Tilapia, corn and green beans. My butler fetched me a square of cornbread in honor of the Carp. For some unknown reason, I was granted discounts on every item which totaled $1.17 lowering the total charge, with tax and orange juice, to $7.29. Quite a bargain, I must say.  I only had to tender four shares of Synovus Stock and received change!

Some drawbacks: parking is usually difficult and the nearby ER traffic boarders on the seedy side, especially on New Year's Eve.  It is rather sad to see the parade of inebriated and foolish injured passing through the double doors a stone's throw away. Will our less fortunate brethren ever stop firing weapons in the air to celebrate the New Year?

Wait a second.  Just a moment please.  As I write this from my mother's accommodations the nurse has just brought in a tray of food and on the plate was a grilled Tilapia which looked suspiciously like my entree for lunch.  I took a bite and sure enough it WAS the same flavor.  I have now been informed that I have just written a review of hospital food.  Oh my.  Does this hurt my credibility??

The best fried catfish "B" has ever had.  Sorry, no corn bread.

Cheerio anyway and have a very Happy New Year!!

Lagniappe at Lunde's

Fat Clemenza walked me down to Lunde's today so we could console ourselves with some comfort food. The Gang had favorably rated Lunde's previously (see Oct. 11, 2009 and Sept. 10, 2009 reviews) so we found the little place on the first floor corner of the Historic Bell Building and went in around noon. (The place is open 11a-2p for lunch) There were not many there when we arrived but business picked up as we lunched in this quaint place with a lot of homey touches from the Big Easy.

Since the place has been so well reviewed, I will not repeat what has been stated. However, I just have to let everyone know about the "Blackened Pork Loin" available on the Meat and Three Menu. (Here is where Carpasaurus i.e. "The Cornbread Carp" may become interested). When the meat and three arrived I was surprised to see that there was a  square of fluffy, cakey, twinkie-like tasty CORNBREAD the size of a Buick next to the porkus loinus! See below:

Photo by Darla, special to LITG, used with permission. Not actual size.

One funny event: Fat Clemenza asked if one of the vegetable choices--macaroni and cheese--was 'home made.' The smart ass in me would have normally quipped: "Mac and Cheese is about as man-made as a 'vegetable' can ever get." I held my tounge and the waitress politely responded that the M & C was homemade. This caused me to wonder: Are any vegetgables really "home made?" Cake can be "home" made, pie can be "home" made but vegetables?  My green beans and corn were certainly good but I wouldn't think they were "home made." Doesn't the Big Guy Upstairs get some of the credit for "making" them?  Nevertheless, the main point here is that the veggies were tasty and fresh, but the surprise cornbread square was lagniappe! The "other white meat" loin was just perfectly prepared and a generous portion. (Did they know we were professional restaurant reviewers?) Best of all, the price ($7.50 with tea) allowed me to pick up the tab for Fat-C and tip generously all for a "Jackson." Now that's value in the Gump. So try Lunde's, it's now officially Shadow Pup tested, Shadow Pup approved.

The Remains of Angelos Steakhouse: A Festivus Miracle

Any of you who travel home along S. Decatur Street must recall the rise and apparent fall of Angelo's Steakhouse which was located across from the Patterson Court projects...er...public housing...er...subsidized government run housing area that surrounds the defiant Decatur Street Moody Hardware store. Those of you who know of what I speak will no doubt recall their pitiful little sign that chronicled each day and month and eventually a year that they were "Still Open After ___days/months. Thank the Lord!" (I apologize to the atheists in the audience for this politically incorrect reference to the Supreme Being...er... life force...er...belief system of religious persons. However, the government has not yet prohibited private companies from acknowledging help from above).



I blame myself a little for their demise. I cannot honestly say I ever dined there nor that I know of anyone who did. But I recall pulling for them to make it in what had been an old convenience store. And I recall a tinge of melancholy upon noticing one day that the entire building was gone except for the little sign perched on the pole still proudly proclaiming: "Angelo's Steakhouse" before an empty lot. The flashing sign, flashing no more, remained for a while proclaiming: "Thank God for a Year!" until it was stolen.

What occurred to me is that the little sign was a sort of ....a sign. A minor miracle, a "Festivus" Miracle so to speak. It took a lot of guts to try to start that little business and probably all the money some family had saved to break out of their existing situation--which I presumed involved living across the street. Can't say I know who they were or where they are now or what they are doing although I doubt they were Greek. But on today, December 23, which for PC reasons--is known as "Festivus"--I see that sign still standing as a reminder of the innate will of man to improve themselves and better the lot of their families. It is that drive that has propelled "human" kind to strive for continued progress...er...advancement of society...er...destruction of the planet.

So with every day you pass the little "Angelos Steakhouse" sign remember that it stands today either as a tribute to our dreams for success in life or a warning of what the future holds for all who strive for the Almighty dollar at the expense of the less fortunate. For the guilty, Festivus donations are welcome and provide some relief and the suggestion that the donations will be used for the good of someone--namely Shadow Pup, who may actually be some one's pet. After all, it's "Festivus for the Rest of Us" so spread the wealth (and the health care).

Happy Festivus!

"Official" Map of the Gump

The Gump appears to be the shape of a liver

For those with questions like: "Just what are the boundaries of 'The Gump'?" or "What is the Gump?" or "Does this have anything to do with Bubba Gump Shrimp Company?" we say, in order: (1) See above; (2) See above; and (3) Of course not you silly motard!

Actually, with the advert money we have made because you all have followed the goofy ad links Google generates based upon the words used in the post, we hired a cartographer to prepare the above high-quality official map which is current as of December 2009. If you live outside the Gump do not worry, you are welcome to join us for lunch anytime if you do not mind the drive.

I am curious as to what adds will be attracted to this post? OMG just look to the right....


Merry Christmas LITG followers!!

Shut the Carp Up! Sa Za's Tattoo Parlor Gets Raided...er... Rated by B-Diddy and the Pup!

There are already two reviews of this place on Sup In The Gump: A preliminary review from the first night Sa Za's opened in October and a more recent review from Dec. 6, but the idea of following links on a blog is obviously foreign to the Cornbread Carp of the Trailer Park, so let B-Diddy and I satisfy his/her recent challenge by providing semi-witty reviews:

The Shadow Pup's Take:

No, they do not serve cornbread! This is NOT a meat and three. There is not even any fried chicken for the local trailer park trash! (Excuse me, I mean "manufactured housing dwellers.") At 130-A Commerce (across from Renaissance and in The Alley) it's "serious" Italian food with real garlic, olive oil, meatballs and pasta all served by people adorned with "serious" tattoos no doubt all over their wormy bodies. (Erase mental picture and move on....).

Some important tips from the Pup: First, unless you have large cahones do NOT even try to order the Calzones on the lunch menu 'cause there A'INT ANY! Why? Because they are "too much trouble" according to Joe DiMaggio, Jr.--the guy in the NY Yankees hat at the counter and co-owner of the place. [Yes, he is a distant relation to "The Yankee Clipper"] And--although sitting at the Chef's Counter is a treat--do NOT ask Joe: "What do you recommend?" because he will most likely retort, honestly, "Since I do not know you I do not have a clue what to recommend for you to eat." (He is, after all, a New Yorker). Do NOT be offended when he hands you your tab with the statement: "Now let me rip you off." Finally, do NOT ask him about all the tattoos on his body or why he likes to hire staff with tattoos. That's a story you do NOT really want to know....

Notice just the hint of tat on the right "gun."

Actually, DiMaggio has spent a lot of time working Italian restaurants boy and man. And here I mean Italian restaurants in Italy--which is the home of Italian food I think. DiMaggio is a key-man for this place to be a success. He has also written a pretty good blog post about running restaurants that is funny and informative. It concerns me a little that he has also been named chef at restaurant in White Plains NY as of 2/16/2009. When he leaves Sa Zas' in the Gump, things could suffer. But keep in mind that Ken Register (Olive Room and Down the Street) is an owner so once Joe D gets them square, it should continue to be a quality place. So far, however, Joe-D has been in the kitchen every time I have eaten there. With him in charge the food is authentic and--for that reason--different from other Italian restaurants in the Gump. Take, for example, the use of marinara with extra virgin olive oil, chilies, reggiano cheese, fresh herbs and Sa Za GARLIC sticks for dipping. The stuffed hot peppers are truly a choice treat, with a blend of three meats, carrots, onion, fresh mozzarella, and cognac, all stuffed into Anaheim chilies, slow roasted and topped with more fresh mozzarella. Shipped in from Jersey are traditional pastas with such as angel hair served with Maine lobster meat, chopped shrimp and spinach in a chardonnay, exploded garlic and olive oil sauce. Another favorite pasta is the rigatoni Bolognese, a rich sauce made from carrots, celery, onion, veal, beef, pork, and cognac, then roasted for five hours before they hit it with cream, Carmelina's san marzano tomatoes and tossed with fresh herbs and rigatonis. Your Shadow Pup does not understand all this but likes the way it tastes. I do understand and like Pizza and it is very good at Sa Zas.

Joe-D doesn't wear a baseball hat or show his "tats" when with his "peeps" like Tony B.

That having been said, let's get down to the "serious" Italian food. I would say I have eaten at Sa Za's 7-8 times already and not once have I had a bad experience with the food. And, because I am such a loner like "sad girl," I never have to wait to get a seat at the Chef's Counter where I can pretend to know all the other loners sitting up there. However, if you are in a hurry and want a table for 6 you better gird for a wait because the place is still packed during normal lunch hours. The upside of this little problem is that it is packed because the food is way above average and, if you order smart, can be reasonably priced. One way to order smart is to get pizza by the slice during lunch or to order one of the "chopped" salads with smashed chicken. About $8 each and not too much food. Now the "meatball" sandwich is also a favorite in that category but is so large no one but--maybe Tojo--could eat the whole thing at one sitting.

Today, yours truly was joined by B-Diddy and B-Mack as we hoofed it in for lunch. The place is open for lunch 11 a.m. to 2 p.m. M-F. At 12 noon the place was packed. "Zeke" (the runaway "Buds" doorman) was there in his natty glasses and tats. There were no seats at the bar or Chef's Table and there was a large group of fatigue-clad Maxwell Country Club Members waiting in the lounge. After a 10-minute wait, however, three spots opened up at the bar (which is on the far side of the restaurant from the kitchen) and we bellied up where we were waited up by Jennifer the barmaid. B-Diddy ordered the stuffed peppers ($8) and B-Mack ordered pizza slices ($3 a pop). I ordered the sausage, onions and peppers sandwich ($9). It took a while so I popped another Valium and enjoyed the company and watched the flat screens. (Looks like Tiger/Cheetah's marriage is toast. The model is no longer wearing her wedding ring. She'll survive, just like we would survive the wait. But I, like Tojo, digress).

B-Diddy's dish looked really good but see his review below for the details. I have had the stuffed peppers before and they were good appetizers. My sandwich, however, was way too big and had no sauce at all on it. I mean, when they say sausage, peppers and onions they mean those things only. Why, I am lucky I got the bread. The bread is good but something was needed to hold the middle parts together. This did not stop me from eating every morsel, I should add. Couldn't tell if B-Mak liked her pizza or not. Regardless, the service was decent given the crowd and the fact that Jennifer had to fill all drink orders for bar patrons and the floor. (By the way, someone was hitting the wine bottle pretty hard. Hope it wasn't the Maxwell crowd or, if so, they aren't going to be on the trigger anytime this afternoon).

So take this, Cornbread Carp of the Trailer Park, with "Joltattin' Joe" at the helm Sa a's is really all it has been cracked up to be. You should make the effort to go and take your Valium for the wait like a normal person. Your humble pup would rate the place the best Italian restaurant in the Gump, or even in West Shorter and the land beyond the by-pass. At least, until Joe-D and Ken Register depart--which I hope is not soon--I rate Sa Za's at three of four paw prints (That's all I have). See B-Diddy's similar take below....

Bodiddly's Take:
Being the rabid Yankee fan I am, though he claims to be a distant cousin (here in Alabama you don’t get distant to a cousin unless it’s the 5th down the line), there is no way to convince me the proprietor of Sa Za’s, Joe Dimaggio, Jr., is related to THE Joe Dimaggio. But “Chef”, as he likes to be called, has hit a homerun with the food in the restaurant.

To digress a bit, while I enjoy the “banter” of a New Yorker and can “bust the chops” with the best of them, I must defend others who have gone to Sa Za’s and found “Chef” unaccommodating, rude and downright nasty (you can do this in New York where your customer base is 20 million, but in the Gump, say something to the wrong person(s) and you can find yourself out of the restaurant business fast---note the term “word of mouth”).

Back to the story, if you can, you need to ask to sit at the bar area where the food is prepared. “Chef” patrols the area and enjoys telling you how great he is, how great the food is and why you ought to be thankful he even let you come to his restaurant to eat. That aside, he is entertaining, makes helpful suggestions and will indulge you with stories about “his momma’s” recipes. But ask him how many homeruns his “cuz” hit, he has no idea.

Most of my eating at Sa Za’s has been done during lunch, but on occasion I have traveled with the Mrs. to partake of the “serious Italian food” and the draft Peroni and Chianti. When I sat down today at the bar-the real bar and not the one which Chef parades around-something kept sticking in my mind about the Gumpsters visit to the Green Papaya and the fact I couldn’t join Tojo and friends to celebrate his “coming out” of his hunger strike. Sticking with the mental thought of quantities of food and spiciness, I order the stuffed hot peppers and 2 glasses of water (I’m a big spender and why not go for the gusto and get 2 glasses instead of one). While the word “hot” has many different connotations to palates, to mine, it better mean my brow starts sweating when I smell the aroma. While this was not “hot” by my standards, it had a “kick” to it and the meat stuffing was really great. It is not one of the larger portions on the menu (try eating a sandwich in one sitting and you’ll see what I mean). With tax and tip, it was 11.00, so it fell close to the Gumpster Guidelines. I’d give it a three run homer by Dimaggio standards. Chef says it was at least a grand slam, but who listens to him anyway.

Green Papaya: Tojo Yamamoto Ends Hunger Strike

Tojo upset because Ndamukong Suh not win Heisman Trophy. Lunch in Gump fans know Tojo love Thai food. Tojo figure anyone with name “Ndamukong” must be Thai so Tojo root hard. But slippery little Ingram win trophy. Tojo know in heart SEC refs cheat on vote count, so Tojo protest. Tojo go on hunger strike.

Tojo e-mail Lunch in Gump about hunger strike so Gumpers not save seat for Tojo. Tojo starve until Ndamukong get rightful trophy. Then Catfish tell Tojo Mr. Suh from Africa and Mrs. Suh from Jamaica. Tojo google. Catfish right. Hunger strike all for nothing. Tojo ashamed and hungry enough to eat frozen dog.

Tojo confide shame to Lunch in Gump. Loyal friend Shadow Pup suggest Green Papaya on Coliseum Boulevard. Tojo ask Shadow Pup, why Green Papaya? Tojo never hear of Green Papaya. Shadow Pup say Green Papaya have excellent food from Thailand and Laos. Make Tojo forget all about African-Jamaican Cornhusker and stupid hunger strike. Tojo say okay.

Tojo google Thailand. Surprised to find out Yul Brynner not king anymore. Find out hoochie-coochie trade 10% of tourism revenue. Tojo think, hmmm.

Tojo google Laos. Find out original name Kingdom of Lan Xang, or Land of a Million Elephants. Tojo bet slippery little Ingram happy about this!

Anyway, Tojo call Shadow Pup to ask direction. Shadow Pup say Green Papaya on Coliseum Boulevard by giant flea market. Tojo find Green Papaya easy but wonder who need giant flea? Tojo digress.

Tojo know to watch out for spicy Lao-Thai va-va-voom hot pepper from Sup in Gump review so Tojo order Spicy Basil Chicken (mild). Because of stupid hunger strike Tojo also order extra spring rolls, Chicken Satay and Papaya Salad. BEST LUNCH IN GUMP FOR MONTHS! TOJO LIKE!

Other Gumpers order Pho Special Combo, Tom Kha, Pad Prik Keing, Nau Pad Na Mun Hoy, Amazing Lad Na, Pad Woon Sen, Tham Mak Houng, plus Goong and Yun-Wun-Sen appetizers. What these mean? Tojo Japanese, have no idea. Tojo guess these all Laotian words for “taste wonderful” or “make nose run.”

Green Papaya menu remind Tojo of Deer Hunter when guard grab Christopher Walken by hair and shout, “Yum Pla Muck! Nam Tok! Pad Kee Maow! MAOW!” Tojo hate that part.

Tojo off topic again.

Green Papaya great lunch place. Everybody get out for $10 to $15. Tojo’s bill $42.65 before tip because Tojo starving from stupid hunger strike.

Who is this Tojo? Bring him to me.

Microgump: India Palace is Still on the Throne

[Ed. Note: India Palace will (or depending on when you read this) has moved to Pensacola, Florida.  They will be sorely missed by lovers of curry and goat.]


Although I no doubt fear the wrath of Cornbread Carp, who recently suggested (demanded?) a rating from LITG for SaZa’s, the LITG crew branched out to a whole different brand of ethnic food: Indian. What, you might ask, you mean you dined on the food trinity of corn, beans, and squash enjoyed for so many years by the original (like, REALLY original) Gumpians? No, not those "Woo-Woo" Indians! The real Indians – the ones who are actually from a country named India!!


And so we ventured off to India Palace, a modest joint on McGehee Road in an area that – let’s face it – has somewhat gone downhill in recent years. The atmosphere was a bit bland. I’ve never been to India, but I dare say it probably looks like something other than a former shop in a rundown shopping mall in Alabama. This is certainly not Gumptown at its finest. But I was hoping maybe they had saved money on décor by spending it on what really matters: the food.


The food was buffet style, with no menus provided. This suited us just fine, since buffet is the only way to truly sample what the place has to offer. I can only assume that the food was authentic. The people working there appeared to be Indian, and I think I have even seen a few ex-pats dine there in the past. But despite its health benefits:

My liver function is just fine thank you....


the food was rather pricy at $10 for the buffet (not including drink, tip, or tax). I heard from others that the goat curry was good but by the time I got to it, there was nothing but little goat bones swimming around under the heat lamp. The chicken curry was less bony and good but not particularly spicy. And, after all, what’s the point of going to an Indian restaurant if you’re not going to leave sweaty but with clear sinuses?






The good news is that most of the food at the buffet had a label above it on the sneeze guard. The bad news is that most of the labels were either too blurry to read (presumably from all the sneezing) or were in a language other than English. Hey! Just because we are paying you to feed us your food doesn’t mean you don’t have to come up with a name for it that we can actually read!

I must admit that while I was eating, I was secretly hoping for a spontaneous outbreak of Jai Ho. Now that totally would have been worth $10. Pussycat Dolls not required.

So, the food was decent but expensive. Well, not THAT expensive but certainly not cheap. I mean, not like they’re Indian-givers or anything. Oh, wait, sorry. That’s usually meant to insult an entirely different race of people. All in all, I give them 2 out of 5 curry spices.

For those of you with digestive issues after eating at the IP: Take this: LITG Dislcaimer.

The Bud's Burger is Smokin' Hot

I know it is not really "Kobe" beef and I really do not like eating in a smoky bar,  but every now and then I have to have a "Bud's Burger Fix," and while waiting for my escort to arrive for the "Coco Before Chanel" movie at the Capri (which was a good flick by the way), I walked across the street to 1018 E. Fairview to the little nondescript hole-in-the-wall sports bar known to all in Cloverdale as just "Bud's."

"Buds" is the realm of one Bud Skinner who also owns Jubilee Seafood down the street. Bud rules his realm as a benevolent dictator with an iron fist.  Bud's has pool tables, shuffle board, sports on TV and, if you are hungry, "brisket" sandwiches and my favorite: The "Kobe" Beef Burger.  I usually order the burger with cheddar "all the way" and with the fries.  Because it takes a while to fully cook this 1/2 pound mound of beef, the wait provides a sufficient excuse to enjoy a Pabst from the tap while evesdropping on the lobbyists over in the corner regaling each other with their stories of political intrigue. If that were not entertaining enough, I could watch one of about eight screens above the bar, one of which was showing the finals of the NCAA women's soccer finals at UNC.  Sorry, no hair pulling this time. And although no one would ever tell Bud to his face: Get some more HDTV flat screens!

Once the star of the evening arrives from the kitchen, I always suggest cutting the thing in half so you can handle the girth of the burger (and make sure it is done), especially if you added the bacon, cheese, pickles and lettuce that comes when you order it "all the way."  The steak fries that you can order with the burger are also thick and large.  Together, it is a lot of food for a little money and the PBR's are cold and also cheap.  If you can stand the smoke (which isn't that bad early in the evening) it is a great place for the occasional big burger.  If you haven't tried Bud's I suggest you ignore the locals and "Sad Girl," (most don't bite) and make yourself at home at the bar.  If you give them a name, the next time you come in they will remember you and probably what you ordered.  "Cheers" for Montgomery.

Bud's opens around 4 p.m. for the early crowd and stays open into the wee hours for the college kids. 

Microgump: Lunch at The Club

Although I gather that most of the members of this nouveau-literary venture are probably not currently members of "The Club" or are former members currently on "sabbatical" for a variety of tawdry reasons, that should not exclude a review of the fare at fine gentlemen's clubs within the inner circle of Montgomery proper, what some of you refer to as "The Gump." Therefore, I have taken it upon myself, Chesterfield Northfield Allpots (my friends call me "Chase"), to report upon a gentlemen's lunch at "The Club." Like my friend and visiting Irish MP, Bustafer Jones, Esquire, we have enjoyed the witty banter found in some of these web postings, or "blogs" as you say, but we fear those not fortunate to be from this area will gain the wrong impression that lunch in Montgomery is only about, and I shudder to say it, "meat and three" pubs with the "meat" usually being Southern fried chicken. So forgive us in advance in recounting today's (Friday 4 December) lunch at The Club.

After Bustafer and I motored past the iron gates and guard house along the tree-lined entrance to the circular drive and portico we were are greeted by our tuxedoed doorman who bowed as he bade us entrance into the grand foyer of "The Club." Seated at the long "Captain's Table," were indeed the captains of local law firms, medical practices and mercantile businesses discussing the stock market, politics and their beloved Alabama football. [Some were prattling on about some upcoming match with some amphibians from Florida as I recall] Of course, there were no discussions of "business" as such crass conversation is as strictly prohibited as are those awful mobiles and Blackberry devices "businessmen" find essential these days. (Derisively described as "Crackberries" by the younger members). As we chatted I noticed the beautiful view outside of a perfectly manicured 18th hole still green from the freshly planted winter rye. Perfectly lovely to see (and to drink I might add).

In the "Gentlemen's Grille" the fare was simple and elegant like many of the members. A pot of steaming seafood gumbo with bowls of rice and fresh cornbread muffins at the side quickly allowed the sharp set BJ some relief. Of course, the staff--knowing all--had already placed my favorite adult beverage at an open space recognizing who at the table I would not care to share my lunch with because of slights and offenses occurring to and taken by past generations. ("Why that boy is not trustworthy. You know his grandfather shot at a low bird at a dove shoot at the Home Place back in '53) These are long-time staffers so wise that every statement, no matter how inane, vapid or cliche, elicits the retort: "I heard that." (BJ remarked--and I certainly agree--that the Zen of such a remark is profound). Such attentiveness--before the food even was partaken--sets a tone that is unmatched at public eateries anywhere. And while you eat the staff will even be so kind as to carry the fine Irish whiskey (Midleton of course) you have purchased for your upcoming Christmas party to your vehicle.

BJ and I chose to stay with only the gumbo and a salad from the salad bar. We are not ones prone to gluttony. But, if a full buffet is desired, a short walk into the "Gold Room" reveals tables brimming with salad fixings, vegetables and meat selections. A carving station for beef brisket and a tureen of chicken noodle soup provides a "finish line" for those making it down the entire length of the table. On one wall is a selection of desserts, brownies, tarts and cakes all fresh from the nearby kitchen. And all of this, with tea, for a paltry 10 USD with no tipping allowed. Why, that's only 5 shares of local bank stock. At our house we have taken to using such certificates to start fires in the hearth.

Rubbing elbows and bantering with gentlemen as they dine has a way of calming the nerves and bracing one for spending the rest of the day clipping coupons or playing a round of golf in December while your friends in the north freeze. All said, a fine way to lunch when you want to get away from the rabble. The food at The Club is always good and reasonably priced. The service outstanding. Occasionally, the conversation is even interesting. When it is not, CNBC or ESPN are always available distractions on the wall-mounted flat screen HDTV Tellys. Bustafer and I rated lunch at The Club this Friday very high. Four of five golden cufflinks. Bustafer said it reminded him of his club on St. James' Street in Dublin--minus all the bad dental work.

Some of you are probably thinking that it is not fair to rate a place so few may enjoy. At one time that may have been the case. However, I understand that today, our local clubs are experiencing membership problems due to the economic situation and whatnot such that membership "deals" abound and initiation fees are the lowest in years. Most clubs also have open membership. But if one can find a minority member to overcome the popular "stigma" associated with private clubs in the South you should invite them to consider joining. So I say "cherrio" and "carry on" to our local clubs and I say to you, there is no time to join like the present. Mixing with the crowd may ground us and make us feel like one of them, but an occasional lunch in the lap of luxury among "members" with staff you consider to be friends feels like home to me every now and then.

---Chase N. Allpots with the kind assistance of B. Jones, MP, Esq.

SaZa's Needs Rating from LITG

Looks like we can no longer ignore the SaZa's phenomenon at 130-A Commerce. I saw where that mutt without opposable thumbs Shadow Pup rated the place at "Sup in the Gump" and I know Fat Tojo has spoken of it on the Lunch in the Gump Facebook page. It's also getting very high reviews on Urban Spoon. Do we think that if we ignore it then it will go away? I know it is not technically a local eatery, but it is just a much a local place as Dreamland or Wintzells. Somebody take the ball and write something witty!! Chop chop!

Microgump: Eating Cornbread at Martin's Restaurant

The LITE Menu (I'm not kidding)

Being new to the group I wondered why LITG had not yet rated the place consistently rated No. 1 in The Montgomery Advertiser's "Peoples' Choice" award for: (1) Fried Chicken; (2) "Southern Cooking" and (3) Iced tea. After all, the place has benches outside because it usually is pretty crowed with...I must say it...some of the fatest people on earth (especially if you go early to beat the crowd). If you ever recoiled at the damage Waffle House has done to American waistlines, just sit alone at Martins around 11:30 a.m. and watch the parade of obesity squeeze through the front doors for their fried chicken fix. Please do not eat there alone because, if you do, your mind eventually wanders into people watching mode which, at Martins, invariably leads to the sin of smug, condescending judgments about the size of the clientele (at least if you are only mildly overweight after a Thanksgiving of splurging). Many had a former professional wrestler gut like Tojo Yamamoto (I've only seen him once from distance and he was still large from a distance).  My mental victims, on the other hand, are probably thinking: "Why is that goofy guy wearing an ankle bracelet?" To which I say to myself: "NONE OF YOUR BEESWAX FATTY! And stop looking at my buttered muffins!"

One muffin missing. Two in mortal danger.

One thing I can say unequivocably about Martin's: They have some of the best cornbread I have eaten and they bring it to you like other restaurants bring your bread and water glass: quick. And it is right out of the pan, hot and ready to be swathered in fake butter from the ample supply of tins on the table. Three, count-em, three muffins per customer, one for each of the jelly rolls lopping over your belt. As a true cornbread lover, I must say the meal goes downhill after you gobble up your Martin's cornbread and drink the excellent iced tea (unsweetened of course because you are watching your girlish figure as you down the third muffin before the meal arrives).

As sort of a poor joke on the obese, there is a LITE menu which features only one huge fried chicken breast along with two sides and three cornbread muffins with unlimited margerine. Obviously, I chose the LITE meal because it sounded better for me. Here, I have to say, the Davis Cafe & Lounge kicks Martin's butt all over the plate. Unlike the succulence of the Davis Cafe bird, the Martin's fowl was a little dry and had almost no seasoning. I also noted more bones than normal chickens are supposed to have. Perhaps my skills at dismembering the breast with a fork are to blame, but I was constantly chomping on bones--which is rarely fun with regard to eating yardbird. If this were a competition, the score would be Martins 1, Davis 1 after the entre.

Since the prices (about $8.50) are comparable, the tiebreaker would have to be dessert. Here, Martin's has a decided edge. Their fried pies are delicious and homemade and guaranteed to blow any diet, real or imagined.

The winner by a muffin top: Martin's Restaurant, 1796 Carter Hill Road. They are open 11 a.m. to 3 p.m. M-F and for Sunday Brunch. They serve dinner and things other than chicken (like chicken livers). They have a high local rating because....its an icon!! It has been around since 1940 and the service is quick and friendly. I would give it a 3.5 of 5 hot corn muffins soaked in real butter.

"Luke...I sense a disturbance in the Force": The Hotel Talisi Burns

Today they could be excused for overcooking the chicken

After four days of an L-Tryptophan turkey coma, no LITG member was prepared to do anything but eat left-over turkey sandwhiches while they pondered "The Butterfly Effect," you know: that theory that says that if you bop a baby seal in the head with a stick in Canada it causes a Puffin in Ireland to fly into a boiling pot.

THIS CAUSES THIS:

Well, today we felt the unseen waves caused by a disruption in the Fried Chicken Force that surrounds the Gump when we learned of the tragic fire that has damaged an icon of buffet lunchage: The Hotel Talisi. Who among you--if you are a true MontGumphrian--has not heard of nor eaten fried chicken or banana pudding at the Hotel Talisi in Tallassee? Who among you has not marvelled at the tacky victorian furniture in the lobby (that probably served as kindling) or wondered what it would be like to actually stay there overnight? (Do you know anyone anyone who actually stayed there overnight?)

Well say what you wish about Man-Made Global Warming E-mail hoaxes or The Butterfly Effect, we Gumpers all sensed a disturbance in the Force today. And although it did not affect the Gump proper, we all felt a little lower than our overeating during the Holidays and extra poundage could explain. I, for one, believe it was at least partially due to the effect of the loss--hopefully temporary--of our compatriate luncheon spot to the Northeast. We all hope the grande dame of grease will rise from these ashes to once again serve some of the best Southern Cookin' in these parts. At least, hope springs eternal when lunch is involved.

Update: 12/21/09: It's Worse Than We Thought....

Was visiting the River Region north of the Gump Sunday and snapped this picture of the Hotel Talisi, or what's left of it.  A return doesn't look promising, especially in this financial climate.

Pine Bar - Lunch in the Gump After Hours

What? You think we just eat lunch all the time? Sure, lunch is a great time to take a midday breather, catch up on the local gossip and postulate on which bank will fail next. We sample the Gump's best southern-fried, cooked-in-a-pot-of-grease, artery-clogging slow death, then wash it down with rot-your-teeth sweet tea. The fact that we do this at least weekly (completely without compensation) and then provide reviews free of charge, just adds to the near-utopian quality of life here in the Gump.

But Gumpers are only human (except for Shadow Pup). We have to unwind from the megadeals, mid-air rescues, test flights, brain surgeries and Perry Mason shit we do when we're not screwing off at lunch someplace. So at quitting time we need a drink.

There are some good watering holes here in the Gump and we feel it is our civic duty to visit every single one, and write 'em up here on the blog. So here we go.

Pine Bar is at 501 Cloverdale Road in that slick new upstairs/downstairs new urbanism live/work A&P loft/retail development between Nancy Paterson's Bistro, Village Kitchen, Roux and Derk's Filet & Vine (excellent joints in their own right). The Chop House at the Vintage Year (also excellent) is just a stumble down the block.

As the name connotes, Pine Bar is a bar, not a nightclub. The skilled bartenders know how to mix. You can get real cocktails like an Old-Fashioned or a proper Martini, maybe a Sazerac or a Sidecar. If your cocktail requires fruit juice, it gets fresh-squeezed right in front of you. If you just clipped Milton McGregor for a big jackpot and feel like a Booker's or a MacAllan, they've got 'em and won't stiff you on the pour. If you order a Sex on the Beach or a Screaming Orgasm, you are going to get tossed out on your ass, your fake ID will be gone forever and your parents will be notified.

Pine Bar probably has the biggest beer selection (draft and bottled) in the Gump, including those high gravity, knock-you-on-your-ass beers the legislature lets us drink now. The wine selection is interesting and ever-changing, if you are one of those wine-sippers.

Also, the Pine Bar has great food. Shown below is their signature dish, pretzel balls, and the soon-to-be-famous salad bar, which comes complete with olives, lemons, limes, maraschino cherries and those little onions. So once you wet your parched throat and take the edge off, don't feel like you've got to go hauling ass home for dinner right that second.

You won't go home hungry.

Other particulars? Let's see... The clientele at Pine Bar is about as sophisticated as it gets in the Gump, which isn't very sophisticated. But we still doubt you're going to have to deal with any gunplay among the patrons. You can sit outside or inside, but there's no smoking inside. That's good. The trolleys stop here if you need to get downtown or over to Fairview without getting a DUI. The owner has good taste in music and some big-ass TVs. Prices are reasonable and you get an honest pour.

The Pine Bar is a great stop for a couple of after-work drinks and it's also a handy staging area for dinner at Nancy's, Village Kitchen Roux or the Vintage Year. You can also get primo takeout from Derk's, so you can be a hero when you get home, instead of just that liquorhead who pays the mortgage and forgets anniversaries.

Possibilities abound here in the Gump.

Re-Butt(al) in the Gump: He said we were WHAT?

Here's the deal: I have escaped the Gump via Pinnacle Airlines to the mecca of sophistication a/k/a Little Rock, Arkansas. I have spent two days listening to over-coached witnesses deny the obvious under oath. So I am a little fussier than usual.

I am staying at the very nice Capitol Hotel (across from The Peabody where the substitute ducks are and where Bill Clinton porked his various interns with his own cheap cigars while serving the Razorback State as Governor) and I am smoking a cheap cigar on the terrace with my boosted laptop surfing the net and see where there is a rating system for the top 10 restaurants in each city in this great country. I am trying to find a decent place to eat in the capitol of Arkansas. (There being no great blog like LITG about Little Rock). So, being a LITG regular, I check the listings for The Gump to check the site's veracity. There I find listed the "Top 10" places to eat in MontGumphery and I see some of the usual suspects (except I would not rate "The Pub" No. 1 even in West Shorter). I note No. 4 on the list is "The Farmer's Market Cafe" which was recently a LITG Classic review (I wouldn't rate it No. 4 in the Gump myself). I click on the icon and find the following:


"This place is unbelievably overrated by the hicks down here. Food is subpar at best, and the place is run-down and highly overpriced. I was all jazzed up about getting some good southern cookin' when I moved down here. Haven't found any yet - just overrated places like this, with wait staff as bored and filled with quiet desperation as the town itself."


Now, followers of LITG know that I, your humble Shadow Pup, may not be the most tolerant of the contributors to this blog. But, even though being a pound puppy from Detroit who cannot claim to be a native of the place we affectionately refer to as the Gump, like most members of the secret LITG gang I have more than a degree from a community college, have travelled a good bit in and out of the U.S. and can understand that the world outside the by-pass looks down on the South with derision and the assumption that Southerners are less intelligent than the geniuses who chose to remain in the Rust Belt. But this posting went too far. "Hicks?....HICKS?" Hicks live in Arkansas! We are just dumb rednecks here in the South. So, you can understand that when I saw the above condescending remarks about a classic LITG eatery, the fur on my back stood on end and I felt compelled to defend my adopted home and respond in kind and I apologize in advance:


"Listen you Yankee a**hole: We may not say 'youse guys' when we talk to women and we may talk too much and laugh too loud, but we know where to eat in our own city. We may even be too dumb to make it in any Northern town, but the LITG gang knows authentic 'southern cookin' a lot better than you and we, unlike you, are not quietly desperate about anything. Rather, we are 'loudly proud' of our little fortified Gump. Like 'Lynerd Synerd' (I cannot spell it either and am too lazy to Google it): 'We don't need you (or Neil Young) around here anymore.' So, whatever you pasty white overweight yankee slobs like to eat, have at it. 'Leave us be' as you say in your awful accents as you murder the English language worse than we ever have."

Pardon my french and thanks for allowing an expatriate Yankee and adoptive Southerner to vent. I feel a lot better and I realize now that "Top 10" site is a waste of my valuable wagging time.

Yours truly, The Shadow Pup. Your humble servant no longer riled up and headed for the Pine Bar when I get home....

Microgump: Capitol Inn Buffet Fizzles

The other Gumpers tried to tell me it would be a mistake. Whatever! I do what I want!

Unfortunately, this one time they were right.

There is nothing more annoying than writing a review of a place you used to like but you now have to rag on because things have fallen apart. Exhibit A: The formerly wonderful Capitol Inn buffet is now a terrible place to eat. The first clue was the fact that the doors were locked and the place was deserted. Last Thursday I practically had to force my way into the place with a crowbar, no kidding! Once inside I waited and waited for someone to ask me to sit and after a while I just gave up and sat myself. Then, as if things could get any worse, I walked up to the buffet line and saw that the bins were full of nothing but tepid water. There was no iced tea, no wonderful pork chops and no banana pudding. It was a total bust: service was non-existent and the food was non-existent. I could not even get anyone to take my money so I left without paying. At least parking was plentiful and the price was right. I paid what it was worth: Zip. Until things drastically change, I am simply not going back. I would rate the place as I found it last Thursday: .5 of 5 pork chops. They will never recover from this lambasting from Shadow Pup. Do not be surprised if they close for good. Sad end to a lunching tradition in the Gump. Sniff.

Microgump: Making a List and Checking it Twice at Isaiah's

[Ed. Note: We welcome the "Carp" to our fold with his first submission]

Although technically not a "Lunch in the Gump" target (since it is not open on Mondays), Isaiah's at 135 Mildred Street meets every other criteria as a locally-owned lunch spot that serves "comfort" food mostly to those in Gump Central. However, I will say that if you Google the place you will see numerous favorable reviews from travelers from all over the country such as this annoymous lady from the Land of Fruits and Nuts shown here with Isaiah himself.

She raved about the lemon crusted carp err catfish. She even took a picture of it:
Looks yummy.

(the fried corn is at the top and the poor little corn muffin to the left)



On Friday a quorum of LITG reviewers gathered for a microgump at Isaiah's at the suggestion of Mimi Furst. Present were: Tojo, Reginald, Docartie, Mimi, Shadow Pup, Pikedaddy and yours truly. After raising our 1/2 and 1/2 tea/lemonades to the memory of poor burked Binion, we reviewed our menu/check-lists and made our lists and checked them twice. Pens were thoughtfully provided. Cool thing about filling in your own order with the prices listed for each entry is that you cannot whine about it when you take your own list to the register to pay. (Of course, that would not stop the Shadow Pup from denying her own paw prints).

My only gripe was, of course, about the cornbread. The check-list menu clearly stated that my lemon baked chicken would come with one side and my requisite corn muffin. When the order arrived, dressing and gravy had been substituted. Granted, it was very good dressing and gravy but the omission of the muffin forced me to beg a muffin off the dentist who had just had his own teeth cleaned. By the time the begging had been sucessfully accomplished, the muffin was cold and lifeless and no butter was nearby. Thankfully, the chicken and gravy was fresh and good. Not so much the "fried corn."

I will add other comments from our staff of reviewers as they trickle in below. Suffice it to say that with a total charge of $9.13 with tax (or 5 shares of Synovus stock), its proximity to Gump Central, its friendly staff, and ONE HUNDRED HEALTH RATING, Isaiah's is a place worthy of being a regular on your lunch rotation.

Happy Thanksgiving to all our LITG followers!

Mimi: My comments are these:The lima beans are my favorite—they have a subtle lima and pork gravy that holds them all together and sticks them to the ribs, and in my case, probably the hips too. Collards are just right. I have had the sweet potato pie, and it is a slice of love. In the summer, the cream cheese pound cake with fresh strawberries is not to be missed. Enjoyed the talk of the shady developers busted projects, the booming downtown of trial lawyers and pub crawls. Swapping tips on the best way to avoid the new camera red light tickets and DUI’s (other than not running the light or driving sober of course). The Old Ship AME Church light-up sign across the street says “Faith is fragile—Handle with Prayer.” Love a place you can get lemonade and sweet tea mixed (an Arnold Palmer). Don’t forget the secret rooms and 100% health rating. [I didn't]

Cuts in the Gump: Fronduti's

No, they don't serve food. But I did go during lunch hour.

Maybe someday, when this recession has receded, I'll splurge on a haircut and food on the same day. But that day's not here yet, so you're getting a review of the place where I get my hair cut. With the economy in the crapper and all, I've pretty much put hair care down near the bottom of my top 100 things to accomplish this fall, somewhere behind "catch up on the mortgage" and "get that funny-shaped mole looked at." But my head had become shaggier than the carpet in the back of a '74 Chevy Van so I called up my friend Mark Fronduti, of Fronduti's fame, to get this situation nipped in the bud before anybody else asked me if I used to be in Metallica.

I also want to look sharp at Binion's funeral. See Wednesday's post. Sad.

So here's the deal: When you go to Fronduti's you understand why your mom went to the beauty parlor every week. It's just a damn fine place to get your hair cut, is what it is.

Today's coif was at noon, but I really like to go for the twilight triple-header when I can swing it: a haircut, a couple of scotches and some takeout pizza. Fronduti's has the perfect location for this on East Fairview between Bud's and Tomatino's. They'll even bring you a pop for while you wait. Hell, you can have another drink while they cut your hair (it's not like you're at the dentist or something). Oh, and there are usually better-looking women at Fronduti's than at Bud's, unless you want to wait around Bud's until midnight then go home all shitfaced and smelling like the bottom of an ashtray. Not that there's anything wrong with that.

Anyway, back to the haircut. My wife told me it looked good, which, considering the material Fronduti's had to work with, is a pretty smashing endorsement.

Call 265-3003 for an appointment. When you get there, tell them Lunch in the Gump sent you and you'll get a blank stare, absolutely free with your excellent haircut.

Dumped in the Gump: Binion Burked by The Beast

He's under there somewhere...

Former Casino Magnate Suffocated by Hamburger Steak Smothered in Onions

(From wire reports)

MONTGOMERY--Leonard Theodore "Ted" Binion was found dead today in his home after apparently being "burked" by a oversized hamburger steak from local restaurant Sundown East appropriately named "The Beast." According to unnamed sources, Binion, former proprietor of the Horseshoe Casino, was in the witness protection program after testifying against members of an alleged crime family before Congress in 1988. Court records reflect that Binion plead guilty to falsifying federal food inspection reports to cop a plea deal with the FDA prior to being granted witness protection. He lived in secrecy in several cities after finally being moved to Montgomery where, according to sources, he foolishly broke protocol and began blogging under his real last name about local lunch spots. Investigators are interviewing the owners of Wintzell's and Corsinos concerning allegations that they may have tipped off those in Las Vegas with an axe to grind against Binion's turkeyneck after not so complimentary reviews appeared on the blog. The owners of Sundown East, from which "The Beast" emanated, have confirmed that one of their waitresses did not report to work the day of the discovery of the body and that one fully-cooked hamburger steak was unaccounted for. The waitress had recently undergone breast augmentation surgery so her absence was not unexpected, the owners said.

The medical examiner for Montgomery County released a statement confirming that Binion was found on his back in his kitchen smothered by a 2+ pound hamburger steak itself smothered in onions and gravy. A Harley-Davidson t-shirt, un-naturually streatched across the chest, was found at the scene soaked in gravy. According to the county coroner, "burking" is an obscure method of gangland murder designed to leave little evidence of a crime. It essentially involves drugging an individual and then placing a heavy object on their chest causing suffocation. "The Beast," aided by gravity, supplied the downward pressure that resulted in in aspyixiation, the examiner said. Here, however, the hamburger steak apparently did not flea.
Rumor has it that Binion was burked to make room for new contributors to a local underground blog that has gone viral: lunchinthegump.blogspot.com. An official for Blogspot confirmed that the "Lunch in the Gump" blog had become popular and that Blogspot rules appeared to limit the number of contributors to 10. According to this spokesperson, the Lunch in the Gump blog was at its capacity at the time of the demise of "Binion." The capactiy has since been increased to 100 due to the popularity of this blog, the spokesperson said. Local law enforcement officials refuse to confrim or deny whether any of the blog's contributors were suspects. One, Tojo Yamamoto, is a former professional wrestler who performed many faked acts of violence and had a "patented wrestling move" that simulated "burking." Yamamoto also jibed with Binion on posts found on the blog. However, unnamed friends say Tojo is thought to be a gentle giant and student of Zen incapable of performing real acts of violence. Another, Shadow Pup, is alleged to be an unabashed right-wagger said to be involved with underground "rescue" missions against governmental animal shelters. Shadow Pup refused to speak with representatives of the media.

Another theory is that federal agents discovered Binion's blogging activities and wisked him out of the city before he could be located by those that would do him harm. Just how the FBI would have been able to fake Binion's death is not known. But, according to local funeral homes, the body was not processed locally although the hamburger steak was creamated.

Binion is the second Lunch in the Gump contributor to die in as many months. Doyle B. Cooper, the famous 1970s hijacker of a 727 jet who bailed out at 10,000 feet from the rear door and was thought to be dead, apparently had been living in Montgomery for years and died here in October after an encounter with a rogue hotdog. He had been known as "Doyle B" on the popular lunch review blog.

Posters on the blog expressed sadness for Binion's passing and suggested that memorials be made to Binion's presumed charity of choice: The Make a Wishbone Foundation.

Lunch in the Gump: The Farmer’s Market Cafe—Taxidermy and Jalapeno Corn Bread!!

You're not eating the venison are you?

With the choice for the spot of the week bearing down on all of us, Shadow Pup suggested a Montgomery standard. If you are still shaking off a hangover from a weekend of big football and you need a solid, no-frills workman’s lunch, you got to go with the Farmer’s Market Cafe. Shadow Pup and I arrived separately and in true community style, we were both offered seats by folks we knew and some we didn’t. Shadow Pup remarked “It’s sort of like the bar in Cheers, somebody knows your name so you never eat alone (even when you really want to).” Local celebrity sightings included Rep. Alvin Holmes “legisloitering” by the counter as per usual hoping some lobbyist would pick up his tab.

As our fellow Gumpers trickled in, each made the rounds in the dining room back slapping and hand grabbing until we all came to rest at a centrally located table, amidst lawyers, brick layers, law enforcement and secretaries. This proud cross section of the Gump’s best folks came together for a respectable assortment of baked chicken, veggies, slaw, cornbread and tea. Just the thing you need to ground you after a high flying weekend of fancy tailgate food and beer. The one that has no nickname especially liked the Jalapeno Corn Bread, which he says has the consistency of Twinkies. (Discerning palate indeed.) We all agree the fried okra is superb especially when combined with the smoky baked chicken.

As a bonus, you dine while being eyeballed by some pretty good taxidermy and photos of decades old football players like Buddy McClinton leaping, Charlie Trotman with a buster brown haircut, Zeke Smith with his Outland Trophy, and, of course, the Bear when he could personally kick ass.

As a side note, LITG determined that although LSU intercepted the ball, it would not have mattered, and that 50 year old refs don’t have 4.4 speed. SEC refs made for good lunch conversation among the Aubie/Bammers except for Tojo who doesn’t understand “armored wankerball”.



Tojo had just returned from a battle royal with the dentist’s drill and it was highly entertaining to watch him on Novocain try to chew his chicken and not his tongue. “Tojo have tongue for lunch. Unfortunately tongue belong to Tojo. Also have inside of cheek for dessert. Docartie very good to Tojo, only drill one bad spot. Feel like Tojo stick tongue in light socket.”

Frugal Gumpers also got drilled when ordering the traditional ice milk that used to be included in the price of a lunch, but now costs $.50. Leaving alone the ice milk brings the total to a workmanlike $9.00, and for the portions, it’s a sweet deal.

All in all we give it four out of five stuffed turkeys and a deer rack.

Farmers Market Cafe
315 N. McDonough Street
334.262.1970 or 262-9163
Fax 334.262.1970

Plenty of Free Parking or Take the Lunch Trolley Express
"FRIED GREEN TOMATOES EVERY DAY"

Lunch in West Shorter: Wishbone Cafe. Like sands through the hourglass...

LITG is running behind on this week's review because we had a two-hour lunch on Monday, so let us sum up: Wishbone Cafe - inventive Louisiana-style food, better than Wintzell's, as good as Lunde's, creative use of a former Quizno's, some of the best soup we've had... and too slow.

BamaBing! says:
Here is when slow is good: Slow is good when you're having lunch on a Friday in New Orleans with your lady and a crew of good pals, all at a downstairs table at Galatoire's and nobody really has to be anywhere anytime soon, and the group is seriously considering dinner at Galatoire's and then maybe a nice nap back at the hotel before things really get going. Slow is good on a day like that.

But slow is not good if you're having Lunch in the Gump and you've got a table at the Wishbone Cafe and you're with good friends who are way, way outside the friendly confines of the bypass and seriously in danger of losing their menial jobs and/or getting violated back to County by their PO's.

OK. Now that I have sufficiently chastised the Wishbone proprietors for their, uh, deliberate service, it's time to lavish some praise. This unassuming little joint at the end of a strip center way east on Atlanta Highway (emphasis on Atlanta) gets high praise for the funky New Orleans/Cajun/Creole eats. Nothing subtle about the food here. They know where the cayenne pepper is and they know how to use it. It's worth the wait and the couple of extra bucks, and the half-tank of gas.

Binion says - A Tale of Two EateriesIt was the best of luncheon experiences and it was the longest of times. When you pull apart the Wishbone Cafe, someone always gets the short end. Those coupon-clipping Martini-sipping members of the upper crust in no hurry to return to where they pretend to work found the two-hour portal-to-portal-to-portal trip from Dexter Avenue to the Wishbone and back "charming" and "quaint." It is a great place for those who live or work within walking distance and have not a care in the world. However, those with deadlines or a parole officer to report to were, after an hour of enjoying the former Quizno's ambiance, about to jump out of their skins hungry and worried they would be late back to the real Gump.

It also was a better experience for those who had just collected from their local "man" after hitting a three-team teaser. Yes, the Cuban sandwich with honey glaze was different and the soup with the du jour sauce was outstanding. But $16 with tea is pretty steep for Lunch in the Gump not counting the four gallons of gas you burn driving out past AUM from Gumptown.

But, again, the basic problem is the passage of valuable time. On the way back at 1:30 p.m. The Younger and I were remembering "The Chef" in Apocalypse Now who got off his swift boat to fetch some mangoes and got chased by a real tiger: "Never get out of the boat. Never get out of the [freaking] boat!" he ranted when he barely made it back. We said to each other as we raced back to various overripe problems: "Never go outside the by-pass, never go outside the by-pass!" We have learned our lesson.

Tojo Yamamoto responds...Binion too impatient. Need to slow down like Tojo, enjoy Lunch in Gump. Enjoy slow little cajun creole hole in wall. Parole officer too busy with drug dealers and prostitutes, not concerned with white-collar recidivist criminal like Binion. Tojo filled with wonder! Cajun treats cooking in Quiznos conveyor belt roaster oven left behind by former tenant! Quiznos people go broke using conveyor belt roaster oven to make fast sandwich. Wishbone people say "Aha! Why not use Quiznos conveyor belt roaster oven to make shrimp po-boy real slow?" Tojo like zen approach. Tojo like Harry Connick music. Tojo gladly pay $20 for lunch at Wishbone.

Festively colored dish (Mardi Gras colors?)


NoGritsNoGlory says: Worth the Trip to West Shorter

As a newboy in the Lambda Gammas, I learned two valuable life lessons:


1. Don't take an antsy group of Gumpers to a place that takes longer to get your order in than Longshore takes to play the back nine--especially if it's the first meal since CDT became CST, and the old tummy didn't get the memo.

2. Never get up from the table to take a call--especially if Tojo is within surprise striking distance of your shrimp and pasta.

That said, I am forming a committee (the Make a Wishbone Foundation) to get this incredibly tasty Creole/Cajun/Quiznos eatery to relocate Gumpcenter in the Alleyway. Then Binion can just walk half a block, take half a Ritalin and enjoy the quizine du jour. Remember, an orchid isn't grown overnight.

Editor's note: NGNG is a man of few words.The name of this dish was "Shrimp & Pasta," which seemed like a very simple name for a dish in a place with the "Louis Armstrong" and the "Jeffrey Darter" with a ton of healthy-sized fresh shrimp with andouille sausage and a cream sauce big on "cajuny" spices, garlic and other good stuff. Oh, and pasta. NGNG was good enough to share this fine dish with the other gumpers, which was probably a mistake, because when NGNG very politiely excused himself and walked outside to take a phone call from some fatcat, the remaining gumpers had their way with the remaining shrimp.

BamaBing! adds:Fat Clemenza and I both ordered a dish called the Jeffrey Darter, which was basically sauteed hash-browns (shredded a la Waffle House - excellent!) topped with a spicy sauce topped by a very nicely-spiced grilled chicken breast, topped by some sort of prosciutto or something like that topped with some kind of cheese, served with red beans & rice and bread. It was, as Clemenza said, "over the top." I Googled Jeffrey Darter, expecting that I'd find a famous jazz trombonist or some pirate that haunts the Quarter to this day, but no such luck. When you Google "Jeffrey Darter" all you find is this guy:

Jeffrey Darter

Northwestern Mutual Financial Consultant

Grand Rapids, Michigan

www.jeffreydarter.com

The Soup:

On arrival each Gumper was presented with a sample of the Soup du jour, which was simply outstanding. We asked what kind of soup it was and our oft-missing server hadn't the foggiest idea. In any event, 7 out of 8 gumpers ordered the soup, whatever it was. Here's what it looked like, if anybody can identify this soup:

Soup of the Year

Shadow Pup Pipes In:
1. Bring a New York Times with you to read while you wait.
2. Do not come with a big group of amateur food critics. The conveyor oven is designed to make one order at a time. A group of six throws off the assembly line.
3. Du jour is not a sauce, Binion.
4. Bing, when you write a review--give the address.
5. Wish the Wishbone was downtown.
6. Chase Utley has hit four homey's in the Series! Go Phillies!!!