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.