Old School Sunday NFL Lunch at Buds

Years from now men will wax nostalgic about "back in the day" when you could eat unhealthy but awesomely good hamburgers with a draft Pabst Blue Ribbon breathing second-hand smoke while watching pro football players trying to cause concussions. This past Sunday, after watching my first "Breaking Bad" episodes which caused me to have dreams that I had lung cancer,  I decided, instead of cooking crystal meth, that I would indulge in epicurean and visual gluttony with a drinking man's pro football lunch at smokey Bud's bar deep in the Gump at Old Cloverdale.

To those few of you who do not know about Bud's, let me give you a warning: This is not your hip, light, kid friendly, airy, slick, shiny sports bar with a full menu, peppy wait staff and dozens of flat screen TVs and cool sports memorabilia on the walls.  Bud's is the opposite of all of that. The idea of "heart healthy" fare would make a Bud's customer laugh until their smoker's hack kicked in.  Children--even your precious snowflakes--are held in the same disdain as vegetarians.  The place is dark and lit only by the CRT's of the fat TVs that display a variety of sporting events with absolutely no "closed captioning" for those not watching the only game connected to the sound system.  Smoking is not prohibited--it is encouraged.  Even cigars are allowed.

Bud's in the daytime ready for customers.

There is no neon sign out front, no matchbooks or napkins with a "Bud's" logo and certainly no web page or Facebook page to "friend."  The folks at Bud's don't want Facebook friends.  They want a friend with a match and an extra unfiltered Camel.  There is a land-line phone, but if a neglected wife or girlfriend calls, the bartender will look right into the eye of the offending patron and deadpan: "Haven't seen him." ("Eye" singular was used intentionally).

For the true sport's fan there are actually plenty of TV's and they are connected to the NFL network. This means that as you smoke your cigarette and sip your cold mug of draft beer at the bar you can watch at least six football games at the same time.  As you do, you will sit next to those with the jersey's of their favorite players in far off cities like Minneapolis or Baltimore. Why, if you hold your mouth right, they might even tune one to the Premier league.

There are also some healthy activities.  There is shuffle board and pool on tattered, well-worn equipment for 50 cents a game.  There was a "Golden Tee" in the corner, but it has not worked in months and, at Bud's, they do not consider that routine maintenance.

So why would a guy dreaming of lung cancer go to this throwback sports bar filled with smoke?  There are three reasons: (1) I do not want to "Break Bad;" (2) They have PBR on tap and (3) They serve a delicious, big, greasy, bacon cheeseburger with real fries that will clog your arteries faster than the smoke can kill you.  The burger is said to be made with Wagyu beef and seems to come in a around 1/2 pound and served with melty Swiss or cheddar cheese.  Whether or not it is Wagyu or not does not really matter.  It is old-school delicious.  Deep fried potatoes, tomatoes, pickles and lettuce provide the other elements of the food pyramid.  My suggestion, cut the thing in half and take some home for later if you have the stones to ask for a "to go" box.  There are many good burgers in the Gump and we have rated them all.  But the Bud's burger is right up there with the best of them and on a dreary winter Sunday afternoon, there is nothing quite like having a cheeseburger chased with a Bud at Bud's.

Yes, there is a place where consenting adults can destroy their health while watching consenting football players try to knock each other out.  It is called Bud's and you should enjoy it while it is still legal.

Avoiding the Iron Bowl Harangue at Arirang...Almost

You just about cannot go anywhere in this here Gump without hearing expert analysis of the upcoming Iron Bowl.  I don't know about you, but I've about heard enough of "The team that establishes the run will win" or "If it's close in the fourth quarter it might go either way" or "Alabama's defense will stop Auburn's offense." So I started thinking--for me a dangerous task--where could I go to lunch and not be bothered by the mindless blathering cliches about the upcoming "Game of the Week, Month, Year or Century?" Heck, while I was writing this I got solicited for squares on an Iron Bowl game score grid!

Then I passed Korean food hub where one finds the best Korean grocery in the area and Arirang Korean BBQ which, like the Gangnam Grill, sits just across the by-pass within a scones throw of the Gump.  It hit me:  Do they also eat guinea pig?  No, seriously, the thought crossed my pea brain that there--in a Korean buffet restaurant--was a place where I might be able to enjoy some good bulgogi and for at least an hour avoid the clutter and chatter about armored SEC wankerball.

So I pulled into the parking lot and noticed that all the windows were covered with pictures of food and Korean (I presumed) writing. Unlike our friend Chairman Meow, who lived in Korea as a child (and wrote a great article in the Made Paper about Korean restaurants in the Gump you can read by clicking here), I had never been to a Korean BBQ buffet before.  I was a little apprehensive but went inside where the first sign I saw said: "Korean BBQ 11.99.  No BBQ 7.99."  While I tried to figure out what you got with "No BBQ" a very nice Asian lady asked me in English how many and lead me to a table with a hole in the middle--no not a hole.  It was actually a round convex metal grill with a temperature control.

"BBQ?" came the question.  Quickly I calculated the cost between no BBQ and BBQ to be about $4 and reasoned that something was better than nothing.  I answered in the affirmative.

"First time?" came the next question.  "Yes," I said honestly and nervously.

"I help. Go get some meat," she said as she turned on the grill in the middle and it began to glow red through the openings to the heat source below.

So I left the table and went to the buffet.  I started at the meat side (which I later saw was wrong).  I piled one plate with brisket, chicken, marinated beef and pork.  I then filled another plate for vegetables.  I returned for bowls of fruit and steamed rice.

Sitting down at my table I began to place the ingredients on the grill and started to cook.  My waitress noticed I have missed the sauces--duck, hot, brah and blah braa blah--and brought me four in plastic tubs and showed me how to dip the thin cooked slices with the onions/vegetables and then dip them together in one of the sauces before devouring them.  They were really delicious.  It was also fun to do your own cooking right there at your table.  I noticed the same silly dance song replayed over and over but it was a relief from the bombardment of Christmas music and football.

As I looked around I noticed I was the only non-Asian in the place.  Everyone was talking in a foreign language.  The table had signs posted in Korean and English that warned that they were not responsible if you stupidly failed to cook your own meat carefully and that you were free to take all you wanted from the buffet but if you left more than an ounce, you would be fined. The amount of the fine was not stated.  With regard to that admonition, the Korean underneath it must have said: "This does not apply to Koreans" because when the mother/son unit beside me left, their table remained piled with uneaten or cooked food.  I had watched them eat plates and plates of food before they left also so it wasn't left because it wasn't tasty. It was very tasty--especially with the sauces.

I went back to the well several times gradually getting more and more adventuresome.  Never could bring myself to try the "large intestines" but really enjoyed the kimchi.  Not sure if I was supposed to heat it up or not but it was good cold.

As I took a break from cooking I again noticed that, sure enough, everyone appeared to be Korean and they were all talking Korean.  I never heard the words Auburn or Alabama or Iron Bowl during the entire meal. I smiled and finished my meal.  Pricey at $14 with a soft drink, but a real change of pace and respite from the soon to be gorged upon Thanksgiving food and football hoopla.  That was until I whipped out my Auburn Spirit Card to pay the tab.  The hostess looked at the card, ran it through the machine and handed it back to me with the receipt and a wry smile.



"Auburn no win. No defense."

Hot Wedding Soup on a Chilly Day Hits the Spot

Wedding soup shown with garlic bread.

[Ed Note: This is a repeat of a 2011 post that was as true today as it was then.]

As an elite and expendable member of the recently formed Gump Guinea Pigs, I have had my eye for some time on the lunch time activities of one local individual whom I shall identify only as "Finicky Real Estate Lawyer." I have noticed that over time this Finicky Real Estate Lawyer walks to lunch most days in what has developed into a habit involving where he will eat lunch. Since he is a fastidious dresser and well-respected bon vivant, I thought today would be a good day to tail him to see what he has found within walking distance of The Alley downtown.

I am aware of the fact that members of this blog have had spats with the staff at Sa-Za's about triple parking in loading zones--especially on Sunday. They know who they are. But I cannot deny that Finicky Real Estate Attorney quickly ducked into the Alley Station--cut a glance into the new Deli in the Alley (undergoing a pre-opening run-through)--and then dashed briskly into Sa-Za's Pizza, rushed past the "greeter" and bee-lined for the Captain's table which separates the kitchen from the dining area.

Due to my size, I was not noticed scampering along behind. But from my observation point, I noticed that almost no words were spoken to the staff. They recognized the Finicky Lawyer. Immediately winks and nods were passed like some form of code and the meal was on.

What had this anal retentive attorney and counselor ordered at a restaurant known for pizza, pasta and other home-cooked "serious" Italian fare?

The suspense was causing me to gnaw at a table leg.

Then, within about five minutes, the chef handling the table placed a black bowl with a big spoon before him along with a piece of garlic bread which, naturally, he had ordered with the garlic removed.

Climbing inconspicuously up one of the natural wooded beams which give the place a modern warehouse ambiance, I was able to snap the photo you see above. Then I climbed down from my perch, twitched my nose and began to scour the menu for a clue on what it was that had been served.

Nothing matched. In fact, there were no soups at all listed on the lunch menu. Yet, clearly, this was a soup he was ladling into his prim and proper face. A closer look and I saw spinach, Parmesan cheese strands and sliced meatballs floating in a creamy white broth.

Why, I thought, that is Italian Wedding Soup! By Cooper, Sa-Za's is serving a soup that is not on the menu! Apparently, you have to wink, nod or ask for it by name.

After he finished I was astonished by what I saw next. Our Finicky Lawyer finished the entire bowl with no complaints, placed seven dollars ($7) on the counter and left. My investigation revealed that the cost of the soup with bread is $5.50. Wow, I thought, that is pretty reasonable. And he was in an out in about 20 minutes. Speedy service.

Before the staff could clear away the bowl I had a little taste from the remnants. Wow again. This is really good. Very very good.

As I write this back at GGP HQ, I still have a warm glow in my belly and a desire to have more of that fine soup. My report is now in and the quarantine period has passed. I can officially declare the Italian Wedding Soup safe for LITG members and their fans.

Enjoy.

Your friend.

Squeak.

Love at First Bite at Vicki's Lunch Van

[ed. Note: 6/18/2014: Congratulations to Vickie's for winning best burger in Alabama this week.]

This post could go several ways.  We could make fun of the portable Biff Burger building, the handmade "Pardon the flies" sign, the TV that does not work, the paper towels on the tables or the lack of a sign visible from the road. We could research the health rating.  We could try to weave the latest government crisis into the story and blame the House Republicans.  We could be smart and sassy. Or we could--shocker--really write about the food.

The 8 oz. combo--drink included

As I sat in a booth pondering which direction to take, my number was called and soon there was before me, in all its steamy splendor, an 8 oz. double cheeseburger dressed all the way lying temptingly in a basket beside some real fresh French fries.  After the first bite, all was forgiven and my decision was made. As I enjoyed my combo for a out the door price of $8.89, the old building and wacky signs (or lack thereof) faded away.  Although not really a food truck and best described as a "dive," the straight poop is that Vicki's Lunch Van restaurant just off Coliseum Boulevard in the old Biff Burger building serves one of the best burgers in town at a very reasonable price.  I do not throw around such accolades lightly.  If you close your eyes as you take a bite, you will imagine you are at Hamburger King or Joe's Again without the claustrophobia.  You realize there is merit in keeping the overhead low and putting the money into the meat.  So, if you love a good cheeseburger, you will not be disappointed at Vicki's Lunch Van.  If you do not believe me, watch the WAKA-TV "taste of the town" segment or read the Montgomery Advertiser review. To their credit, they found Vicki's before most of the LITG gang.



Wide open spaces compared to the competition.

Now that recommendation is out of the way, there is some nostalgia and knowledge to impart.  No one reading this blog should leave this page dumber.

Inflation= Hamburgers go from 15 cents to $6 over 40 years.

Actually, calling itself a lunch van is more appropriate than maybe even the owners think. Those of you who grew up in the Gump remember the Biff Burger which opened on the Lee side of town in the 1960s.  Know what Biff stands for?  It stands for "Best In Fast Food." In fact, the Biff-Burger in Montgomery was one of 160 of the most successful franchises of that era.  The Biff-Burger had two innovations that set it apart.  First, the founder invented a dual grill machine that charbroiled the hamburgers on one metal conveyor while the buns traveled below and absorbed the flame-kissed drippings.  Second, the founder also invented a modular and portable building equipped with the unique broiler that could be installed in a week such that once the land could be cleared the store could be up and running in ten days.  The Biff-Burger in Montgomery--and now Vicki's Lunch Van--were housed in a portable building that has remained in use for over 40 years. 

The chain was founded in St. Petersburg, Florida, where one of the only two remaining Biff-Burgers still serve "Biff Burgers" to hundreds of bikers who flock to the throw-back buildings.  Perhaps one can even learn from the fall of this great chain that apparently gave Burger King its idea for a burger broiler.  After the founder sold out to a conglomerate, the purchaser decided to diversify into gambling operations that ruined the company.  Think of it, a casino operation that loses money.  You would almost have to try to lose money to fail at raking in chips from games tilted in your favor.  Regardless of the improbability of it, that is the reason we do not have Biff-Burgers all over the country.

The re-purposed portable BIFF

Their 20th century loss was our 21st century gain. When Vicki had to shut down her actual lunch van near Gunter, the portable Biff-Burger building--which had housed God only knows how many other businesses--was there for the taking.  Today, in that portable building without a sign to alert the passing public a restaurant is inside, Vicki and her cohorts are serving up burgers that put the Biff-Burgers--and just about any fast food hamburger--to shame.  For in the nondescript hovel, made to order hand-pattied mixtures of freshly ground steak are cooked on a griddle, smushed one at a time with a spatula, adorned with a bun to soak up the steamy grease rising from the heat and then served juicy and hot along with thick-cut real french-fries.  Even Harry Reid might agree to allow such a burger to pass mustard.

Darn. I am making myself hungry. What flies?

 

Crossing the RED LINE Gangnam Style

[Ed Note 5/29/2015: Looks like Gangnam has bitten the dust]

The leaders of Lunch in the Gump have previously declared the Eastern Bypass to be the red line boundary of the Gump over which no self-respecting member of LITG should cross without changing the calculus of supporting our local mid-town restauranteurs.  Yet, in the past our leaders have ignored the red line in the asphalt as other members have brazenly visited terrific places like Wishbone Cafe or D'Road and lived to blog about it.  This has obviously weakened our foreign policy.  However, never before had we, the elite Gump Guinea Pig Squeal Team Six*, ever been asked to venture into West Shorter until we received our orders to try the new Gangnam Grill which recently opened just across the bypass from the Gump.

Steeling our nerves and with our muzzles all a'twitch, we passed through the busy intersection cameras without triggering the flash that leaves a record.  There in the former Hooter's building--Hooter's being the bane of fine dining, women's liberation and a non-Gump chain (good riddance)--was the new and well-signed Gangnam Korean Grill & Bar.  The interior decor was very stylish and totally changed from what I imagined to be the tacky raw wood of the interior of a Hooters.  Chic all the way.  My only problem was the markings on the bathrooms caused me to mistake the ladies room for the men's room.  Thankfully, there was no one home and no one noticed but me.  An international incident was avoided.

What is "Gangnam" you ask?  Well, according to a lot of unsubstantiated internet chatter, it is a section of Seoul, Korea south of the Han river ("Gang"+ "nam") where there are lots of glitzy clothing stores and restaurants serving Korean "bulgogi".  The area was made famous by the Korean pop star Psy(cho) and the video: "Gangnam Style," the title of which we incorporated into our little report of this date.

The real question should be: What is Korean barbeque? That's a good question. Most people don't know what Korean BBQ is -- even we the GGP's who just had it and, I suspect, even Koreans themselves!

The phrase "Korean BBQ" was made up by Koreans who live here in the States.   It was a way for Korean restaurant owners to advertise what they were selling. Americans are less likely to understand what "bulgogi" or "bulgalbi" is. Not only is it hard to pronounce, it doesn't even sound good to eat. The phrase "Korean BBQ" fixed all that.  People understood what is was, albeit wrongly, and it sounds pretty good too.

Currently, what most Korean restaurants mean by "Korean BBQ"--and what the Gangnam Grill apparently subscribes to -- is any meat -- beef, pork, chicken, or seafood (squid & shrimp) -- that is marinated in a Korean sauce and cooked over an open fire.  The Gangnam Grill even includes vegetables under Korean BBQ.

I ordered the pork (I cannot pronounce or spell the Korean name) for lunch and was soon brought what seemed like 12 little bowls of various spices, vegetables, chest nuts etc.  Here, a picture is worth a thousand words:

Actually, it was 12 bowls.  Any idea what they are?
(Notice I was not wearing my eye protection)

Although the waiter was very nice and attentive, he did not look Korean and I was pumped up with too much testosterone to ask any questions about what was in the bowls or what I was supposed to do with them.  Fortunately, as I sat there pondering the 12 little bowls, the place began to fill with persons driving Hyundai's and appearing Korean.  A pretty good sign I would say.  My international Squeal Team Six training allowed me to overhear snippets of their conversations in Korean.  I snickered when I caught and translated a comment about me: "Oppa? What's with the little furry dude butchering the chop sticks?"  Of course, I never let on I spoke pigeon Korean and it is true I have a hard time with the sticks.

Anyway, I watched what others were doing trying to determine what I should do but they were mostly women and they were not ordering what I ordered.  I fell back on my training.  Logically, they would not bring out these little dishes before the meat dish for no reason.  So I began trying to eat them although I honestly had no idea what some of them were.  Actually I could only recognize the trusty onions.  Nevertheless, I tried them all and was pleasantly surprised at the variety of flavors--mostly all interesting and pleasant.

The stars of the show: pork, soup and rice on a sizzling platter

In due time the waiter appeared with a sizzling platter of shredded marinated pork and vegetables, with a cup of a tangy soup and little silver bowl of white rice.  Since I had not eaten all that was in the little appetizer bowls, I started mixing in the contents of the bowls with the hot meat and added rice.  The mixture of flavors was refreshing and new to my relatively unsophisticated pallet and very delicious.  For the money, I enjoyed a very fine lunch as I sat in a swanky restaurant looking back across the DMZ into the Gump.

I have double-checked with the trusty Lunch in the Gump crowd on Facebook and several of them have been raving about the place.  Entries on Urban Spoon and Yelp were also positive.  So, after the normal incubation period with no adverse gastronomic effects noted, I can release this report to you as a recommendation to try Korean "BBQ" Gangnam Style.  No animals were harmed during this investigation except for perhaps one pig.

*For more information on the fearless and expendable Squeal Team Six, click here and read the ASPCA Notice below.

"The Fish and the Bird can fall in Love...at Chris' Hot Dogs

Most of you have figured out that this blog is more than a food review.  In its own twisted way, this blog has chronicled the history of Montgomery for the past five years.  One thing you can be sure of about history is that it will change depending on the lens of hindsight.  For example, during 2013 public opinion on gay marriage reached the tipping point and shifted such that I think it is safe to say that prohibitions against same-sex marriages will be viewed in 10-20 years like the laws prohibiting inter-racial marriage of the 60s are today.  The debate will undoubtedly go on despite the current trend but we completely understand that you--our loyal readers--want to know what this paradigm shift means for Lunch in the Gump.

Behind the scenes, we of the Lunch in the Gump gang have for some time been testing and experimenting with non-traditional menu choices at some of our favorite lunch spots.  Here is what we have learned:

Months ago, on a whim we ordered the hot dog at Hamburger King on Decatur Street.  As experimentation goes, this was a disaster.  The jumbo pink dog could not compete with the greasy scion of burger that gives the little hole in the wall its name.  I, frankly, do not know how you can make a hot dog as greasy as a Hamburger King cheeseburger without splitting it in half and deep frying the poor dog until it nearly detonates.  Our advice, stick with the traditional namesake at Hamburger King.

But one anecdotal example does not establish a trend.  While the hamburger joint does not love the hot dog, we have confirmed that it is possible for the hot dog emporium to love the hamburger and make a home.  Our Exhibit A is Chris’ Famous Hot Dogs on Dexter Ave.  Although this family run icon of Montgomery cuisine is internationally known for its hot dogs, just about every regular customer also pairs a cheeseburger with their dog.  The dog and the burger share the “special Chris’ sauce” and steamed buns.  Both are outstanding when enjoyed in moderation (about once a month or quarter depending on the thickness of the lining of your stomach).  So, for you newbies to the Gump, don’t forget to order a cheeseburger at Chris’ Famous Hot Dogs.  People will not look at you like you just came out of the closet and you will be very pleasantly surprised.

What is the first thing you Montgomerians—except the Cornbread Carp—think of when the word “Martins” is spoken?  That’s right: Yard Bird a/k/a fried chicken.  The Carp, of course, thinks of a hot buttery muffin of Martin’s cornbread.  The bird and the cornbread are so good at Martin’s (also family run) that it is hard to break their grip on your gullet.  But some months ago we ordered roast beef at Martin’s Restaurant at the corner of Carter Hill and Narrow Lane. Was the roast beast as good as the bird?  Well, of course it was not.  The bird beats the beast wings down.  But it was good juicy roast beast and it also comes with the fresh and hot cornbread muffins.  They even serve fish there, I have heard.  However, I have never had the guts to order fish in the bird’s nest that is Martin’s.  Stick with the traditional yard bird at Martins and let Sundown East serve up the “Beast” (the Gump’s largest hamburger steak).

Finding a good fish with the bird is troublesome.  For example, the chicken fingers at the Capitol Oyster Bar should remain anonymous.  I know they are only probably there for the kiddies.  We recommend you leave the tasteless globs of chewy chicken to the crumb snatchers who don't care what they put in their mouths (except vegetables) while you drink your frosty PBR, suck down some fresh oysters and listen to great jazz on a lazy Sunday afternoon.

No doubt you all can think of countless other examples of ordering contrary to the traditional lunch conventional wisdom.  Think of it: Bob’s Salad at Dreamland; a rib eye at Wintzell’s; grilled shrimp at the Irish Bred Pub etc. and etc. 

The point is that the fish and the bird can fall in love, even if they may have a heck of a time finding a home.

 

Yours Truly:

One Nibbler and You're Hooked

As our newest national shark week obsession wraps up and August heats up, Gumpers like us head out of town to the beach, the mountains or "up" to the lake.  When we say "beach" we mean Orange Beach or So-Wal.  When we say mountains we mean Jackson Hole, WY or Highlands, N.C.  But when we say "lake" we only mean one lake and that would be Lake Martin, the man-made lake with 750 miles of shoreline "up" in Coosa, Tallapoosa and Elmore Counties just 30-40 miles north of the boundaries of the Gump.

Don't know about you but I am about tired of seeing "Shark Week" programs that loop videos of baited great whites with battle scars hitting tuna on hooks near a chum boat. Why, after seeing the Louisiana fatties chasing sharks in the Mississippi River, I thought that we should film a shark hunt in Lake Martin. After all, they have shrimp and jellyfish in the lake--no carp--so I am sure that we could fashion a story line about searching for the deadly and mysterious fresh-water prehistoric mega striped shark.  Aren't carps related to the mega sharks? That can't be a coincidence can it?  I mean, shark attacks on the same beach almost 2 years to the day apart is sufficient evidence to support one hour of riveting programming about a serial killer shark such that the carp/shark link is sure to have a few million low-information voters on the edge of their Lazy Boys?

Seriously, there is a tie-in to our search for the perfect lunch and the search for new species of fish: Recently, a new creature has been spotted on Lake Martin that is worth finding and devouring: Nibblers Float Thru Grill lunch pontoon now roams Lake Martin on the weekends offering a welcome change of pace from the familiar Chuck's Pizza or Kowaliga squealers.

Like shark teeth in Utah, Nibblers is not easy to find. You need to "like" them on Facebook so you can receive notices of where this food-truck on pontoons will be anchored during the day.  Today, we found them in a quiet cove between the Ridge Marina and Acapulco Rock around 12:30 p.m. The special of the day was appropriately for Shark Week fish tacos made with Swai - a distant relative of the deadly Mahi-Mahi shark. My crew of beer drinking shark and deserted beach hunters raved about the very fresh-tasting Swai-fish tacos covered with a delicious lime and caper sauce.  Two of the crew had smoked buffalo chicken wraps with lettuce, tomatoes, pickles and ranch dressing which they recommended.  A crew of five racked up a tab of only $36 with chips and a giant pickle.

Tasty Fish Taco

Look out little seal pup, it's not the shark's fault!

As I enjoyed my last fish taco at the wheel of the "PoodleCruzer" and the gentle swells rocked the pontoons I imagined seeing a large 20-foot underwater shadow moving ominously to starboard with a camera array being towed behind.  There, I imagined, on thousands of flat screens across the nation was the shark's-eye view bearing towards a frisky Havanese pup barking his head off to warn the unsuspecting crew enjoying their Nibblers lunches.  Stay tuned while we break for another commercial......  

eateasyMGM: The Lamb of Antifragility

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Randall Farms "Porchetta" with a lamb center.

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

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

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

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

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

How the Irish Bred Pub Saved Sequestration

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Panda Wok and Woll

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

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

Boom!

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

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

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

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

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

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

"wrill dat be arw?"

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

WokaWoka.

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

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

 

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

The love of my life...

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

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

Dearest Catfish.

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

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

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

A manly burger for guys with real girlfriends!

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

Sackful of Five Guys fries needs its own chair.

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

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

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

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

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

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