Lunch in the Shadow of the Tower of Power

CHEF TO GO: A Doggie Bag Deal

No Pets or Decayed Gentlemen allowed in the Gump Club.

We all know Lunch in the Gump is more about the experience than the food.  Yogi Berra might say that half of the experience of lunching at a restaurant is 90 percent being there to eat it.  But, on a beautiful May day like today--not a cloud in the sky--I would argue that half the experience of a good take away lunch is eating outside for half the price of sitting at a fancy table. Today, for example, decayed gentlemen that I am, I elected to leave the inner sanctum of my secret office and walk Darla a/k/a Shadow Pup over to the Capital City Club in the RSA Tower.  Those familiar with my current economic plight would not be surprised to learn that I formally was a member of the club and longed to eat there again--even if in shame. I knew I was viewed as Darla is often viewed at restaurants: "Non-Members and Pets Not Allowed."

However, I missed the food at my downtown club and recently learned that they have this program called: "Chef to Go" which is open to the rabble like myself.  If you call 220-4232 and place your order and set a time of pick-up, you can have whatever meat the rich folk are eating off the buffet inside plus two sides and the drink of your choice for $8 (including the city council's share).  So, I swallowed my pride and called in my order like a common taxpayer.  I averted my eyes in the elevator to avoid eye contact with someone who was a somebody that might recognize me and ask why they had not seen me in the Club in a while.  Thankfully, no awkward meetings occurred and I was able to slink around to the Chef to Go portal.  What I received from the 21st floor pickup door made it all worthwhile.  For my eight dollars I was given a snazzy and chic bag filled with a lot of good food:

You can order the Gump Club food but just can't eat it there.

Today I ordered the boneless stuffed grilled pork chop (not Bing's favorite FPC) which could be cut with a plastic fork rather easily and which tasted divine although I spilled the au jus on my waistcoat.  Accompanying the tender chop were my two very tasty sides: turnips and black-eyed peas.  Thrown in as an extra was a fresh and light cornbread muffin in a cupcake wrapper and a fresh peanut-butter cookie for dessert.  Too bad for me having to stay on the Atkin's diet and lucky for Darla.  I would like say that Darla is a good judge of food but she sometimes eats her own poop. She wags either way.  Anyway, what I ordered was very good.

It was also pleasant to sit out on the north side of the Tower of Terror (RSA Tower) which is perpetually shaded by the tallest structure in the Gump.  He Who Must Be Obeyed (Dr. Bronner) has created a very nice smoking area complete with benches and metal "thingies" that look as if they ought to be covered with tents or something.  They provided the illusion of a covered patio and good view of St. John's Episcopal Church while I dined from my Styrofoam box like an experienced "Statey."

The experience continued as I went back into the Tower to get a haircut from "Pat." She really doesn't like foreigners very much but has taken a liking to my faint Irish brogue and consented to cut my hair.  With Pat you not only get a good cut for $17, you get to hear a lot of comments about her allergies to the medicines used for her colonoscopy, her favorite customers Troy King  and Dr. "B", and the fact that she is afraid to cut some politicians' hair because she might catch "something penicillin won't cure." By the way, she does NOT cut Gov. Riley's pompadour. According to her some "sweet" barbers in Old Cloverdale can have that business.

As I said, Lunch in the Gump is more about the experience than the food.  My experience today was pleasant: Walking the pooch to the tower on a beautiful May day, dining on the same food the rich and powerful pay twice the price for in the shadow of the Tower, and then catching up on the local political gossip while my own pompadour was quaffed.  It was a day's worth of experience in 45 minutes and a short walk from my office.  Next time I may send my "runners" (unless I need a haircut).  I definitely plan to try Chef to Go at least nine more times (the 10th lunch at Chef to Go is on the house!).  The economy demands frugality.

Ta.

CNA

Ed. Note: If you need the address for the RSA Tower you are a dope.  Just go to the Gump and look up.  It's the tallest building you see.

Baumhower's at RSA - Pleasantly Stunned

At last, a Lunch in the Gump review about food.
Well, sort of.

Baumhower's opens at the new RSA Imperial Palace Headquarters

Last week Fat Clemenza, Norm Peterson, Tojo Yamamoto and I decided to check out the new Baumhower's in the palatial RSA Building up on Goat Hill. It's at the intersection of South Union Street and Adams Avenue (see above). If you get to a pro-bingo protest mob, you've gone too far.

It turns out that before Norm became Cliff Clavin's drinking buddy, he was a noted restaurateur and real estate tycoon who knows Bob Baumhower, the Crimson Tide and Miami Dolphin great who owns this chain.* Anyway, Norm blabbed our true identities and before you could say "conflict of interest," the Lunch in the Gump boys were having lunch with a 6-time Pro Bowl nose tackle, sampling the new menu, meeting the chef, being waited on hand and foot, generally shooting the shit with the big boss and... getting the check comped by old #73 himself.

The following is a completely unbiased and objective review of this SUPERB new restaurant.

We arrived expecting nothing more than the rock-solid, reliable pub food we've come to expect from Baumhower's over the years. Bob is a veteran who has been at this gig since 1981 when he and then-partner Phillip (Dream) Weaver opened a great little wing joint across from the Sigma Nu house in Tuscaloosa. Now he's got 'em all over.

Understand that I'm a born and bred Alabamian, but I must confess that Louisiana is my favorite state. I never lived there, but I visit all the time because I enjoy the following: drinking to excess, shooting ducks, catching big fish, listening to great music, losing money in casinos, and going to Baton Rouge in even-numbered years to watch the Crimson Tide stomp some Bengal Tiger ass. Oh, and hearing Cajun people talk.

I like Louisiana because "let's have a look at those ta-tas" can be an acceptable greeting down there sometimes.

Most of all, though, I like Louisiana because of the food. I get all misty-eyed when I recall the scallops from my last trip to Bayona, the turtle soup at Commander's, the three-hour lunches at Galatoire's, a muffuleta from Central Grocery or a debris omelet from Mother's. Now, thankfully, there are two places in the Gump (Baumhower's and Lunde's on Montgomery Street) that can tide you over until you point that pickup truck south and get back down there.

Baumhower's has a new, slightly more upscale menu and a young head chef, Steve Zucker, who is a disciple of Louisiana culinary legend John Folse (left). As anybody familiar with Louisiana food and football lingo will tell you, Emeril Lagasse couldn't tote John Folse's jock strap. We tried several of the new menu items at Baumhower's and found them to be good representations of the Folse style, richly flavorful, simple, and without all that ridiculous BAM!! bullshit (I use many of Folse's classic recipes at home, and if you simply do what John says, you ain't gotta "kick it up" at all). I've had a number of the cajun/creole standbys at Baumhower's and found them all to be real good, particularly given the reasonable prices. The shrimp etouffee is special, maybe even up to Jubilee standards (when they have it). If you've ever been to any of his other places, like Mango's in pre-hurricane Orange Beach, you know Baumhower is serious about quality. I guess Bob would stomp a mudhole in a slacker chef, but that's just speculation on my part.

You can usually tell if a place is serious by its gumbo. Making a decent gumbo is hard work, and it's pretty easy to tell if any corners are being cut (like at a certain other place recently opened in downtown Gump). Baumhower's serves a dark roux sausage and chicken gumbo that's worth remembering. It's not too thick and it's seasoned like Baby Bear's Porridge -- just right. Be careful, though. You do not want to get any on your head, because your tongue will beat your brains out trying to get at it.   

The new menu still has a mostly Caribbean flair in addition to the cajun/creole stuff. Foodies are always quick to point out that Caribbean cuisine is a big influence on the creole style. I tell them to shut up and eat their food or else talk about football or women or bidness like regular people do. And don't say "cuisine."

Like I said, your Baumhower favorites and old reliables are mostly still on the menu, and everybody I've talked to seems to like the place. The prices are reasonable (I think they are still running some grand opening specials, so hurry before Bronner raises the rent). There's a full bar in case you need a couple of pops before heading home. Norm, for example, likes to get well-fortified before he has to face Vera for the nightly cussfight.

I do have one small gripe -- I counted only 20 or so giant TVs, which makes me wonder, how in the hell is a guy supposed to drink beer and watch March Madness during bidness hours with that paltry number of flat screens? Maybe they've got some on back order.

Clemenza tried to buy lunch for our group, but must have sensed that the owner was about to comp the whole deal. Nice head fake there, Clemenza (they are cunning, the Sicilians). Tojo must have liked it because he just kind of smiled and patted his belly.

Norm was test-driving bar stools when I left.

Well anyway, that's the unbiased objective arm's length fair and balanced review. I am glad we got this out to the loyal readers with our journalistic integrity intact.**

* Since Baumhower's is an Alabama-based chain, the new location at the RSA Building is therefore Gump-eligible.

** Note to Gump area restaurateurs: see what a free lunch gets you? Yep. You get your butt kissed on the World Wide Web.

Originally posted on http://www.lunchinthegump.com/

Etouffee. Done properly, right up there with great sex and college football.

Eastbrook Cafe Raided by Riley's Stormtroopers

“They seized our pulleybones!”

The following is a true account of events that transpired last week. I was part of a three-man recon mission sent in by Lunch in the Gump to gather intelligence on a little-known Coliseum Boulevard eatery known as Eastbrook Café. A number of sources had told us the place serves up a solid meat & three at a decent price, offers catering, is well-maintained, has meeting facilities and provides a living for its owners and jobs for a small staff. In short, the American Dream.

This place wouldn’t ordinarily merit LITG interest, but a confidential informant had told us that Eastbrook Café is in a building once occupied by Pinson’s, the old-school fried chicken joint best known for its scruffy décor and great pulleybones. The deep-cover source hinted that Eastbrook had the top-secret Pinson’s formula and was, in fact, serving up the best pulleybones in the Gump, right under our noses.

The A-Team was sent in -- Chase N. Allpots, Esq. (MI-6, SAS, S.N.O.B.), Tojo Yamamoto (big fat Ninja), and me, Bidgood Bob (watched every episode of Charlie’s Angels, at least until Shelley Hack came on board). The mission? A quick in and out to get the down and dirty on these pulleybones. Or so we thought.

We followed normal LITG protocol for a stealth approach. Safely inside and presumably undetected, we found the pulleybones to be really good. We gave them a high yardbird rating of “FTOHJ-NTG-3” (fried to order, hot, juicy, not too greasy, 3 pieces). Allpots noted for Cornbread Carp’s benefit that the cornbread was warm, although not piping hot. The vegetables were nothing special but it’s February and we’re giving everybody a pass on their vegetables until at least late March. The chicken was damn good, the staff pleasant and it looked like we were going to get out of there for about 11 bucks a head, including tip.

We decided to gamble a little and use the “pulleybone method” to decide who was going to pick up the check. Mind you, on your Thanksgiving turkey this bone is called the “wishbone” and it is used like birthday candles -- for making wishes that never come true. But as anybody from down South knows, the wishbone’s chicken counterpart is known as a pulleybone and it is used as a fair way to decide outcomes, like odd-manning, rolling dice or cutting high card.

With a pulleybone, two combatants pull and the loser is the one with the short end. So anyway, I had a good pull against Allpots, who then pulled the long end against Tojo, leaving our king-sized Japanese friend holding the check.

All hell breaks loose

About this time the front door and the fire exit burst open and in poured about a hundred state troopers, guns drawn, telling us to back away from the pulleybones. Oh, there was plenty of media there, too. TV cameras and microphones everywhere. We were trapped and apparently caught red-handed, Allpots standing there with the long end and Tojo shamefully holding his pitiful little nub of a short end. Our extensive escape and evasion training was useless. Even I knew there was no way out, and I am one of the best dine-and-dash men ever.

Gov. Riley strolled in with his world-class pompadour haircut and his smirking henchman, John Tyson, just about the time the troopers marched the staff out of the kitchen at gunpoint, followed by some kind of CSI geek with a zip-loc full of chicken parts. Tyson checked the bag.

“Pulleybones, Guvnah,” Tyson said, “Must be more’n a dozen of ‘em. Fresh, too.”

Riley peered into the bag. “Well, well, well,” he said. “Looks like we got us some illegal gamblin’ chicken here.”

The Guv let Tyson do the honors. He walked over to the nice lady who owned the joint. “Ma’am, by the power vested in me by the Guvnah I am hereby seizing these illegal chicken parts and placing you under arrest.” A trooper slapped the cuffs on her.

Riley pointed at the distraught cooks and waitresses and said, “All of you ladies are out of work now. Go on home and starve to death, but don’t you dare become thieves or prostitutes to feed your babies, or I’ll be back for you!”

Allpots, who counts a law degree among his innumerable credentials, piped in, “See here, sir! I do believe you need a search warrant for these shenanigans.”

“Search warrant my butt,” replied Tyson, “Look at you, with the long end of a pulleybone right there in your hand, telling me about search warrants. Arrest this man!” he commanded.

Then Tyson made a grave error, kind of like poking a hornet’s nest with a stick to see what would happen. He pointed at Tojo, who was still holding the incriminating short end of the pulleybone and the lunch check. “Gambling with illegal pulleybones, huh? Arrest the Jap, too.”

Tojo’s eyes narrowed. He looked slowly to his left, then right, then in a single blinding motion, ripped off his “bidnessman” disguise, leaped into the air to kick off his shoes, landing barefoot in his signature red kimono and black judo britches. Before you could say “banzai,” Tojo slapped a double stomach claw on Tyson’s midsection. At once a hundred pistols were pointed at Tojo’s head while Tyson cried like Tim Tebow.

In the same instant, Allpots leapt behind the Gov and pressed the needle-sharp point of his pulleybone (the long end) against the poofy part of Riley’s hairdo. “Nobody move,” said Allpots, “or I muss the Pompadour.”

Tojo tightened his grasp on either side of Tyson’s ribcage. “Troopers drop weapons and leave, or else,” he said as Tyson whimpered.

“Or else what?” asked the head trooper, with a bag of excellent, nearly boneless white meat in one hand and a cocked .357 in the other.

“Or else Tojo make wish.”

The standoff was so Mexican you would have thought we were in El Cantaro fighting over the last green enchilada. Tojo squeezed Tyson. Riley said a prayer for the Pompadour. Allpots brandished the long end. The troopers held their ground.

Riley gave the order. “Shoot,” he said. “Take ‘em out!”

“No,” pleaded Tyson, “The Jap might make a wish!”

Nothing happened. Not a single trooper pulled the trigger.

“What are you waiting for?” screamed Riley.

The head trooper lowered his hand cannon and offered the bag of chicken parts back to the cook. “Guvnah,” he said, “If these boys can’t snap a pulleybone to decide who pays the lunch check, well, they’re just gonna play credit card roulette or go rock, paper, scissors for it. Killin’ these fellas and seizin’ these pulleybones ain’t gonna solve anything.” He turned to face the troopers. “Boys, let’s get out of here and leave these folks alone.”

The troopers began to file out. The owner was uncuffed. Allpots dropped the long end and gave the Guv a light skob on the knob. The Pompadour didn’t budge. It appeared the trouble was over and peace once again abided in the Gump.

Then all eyes turned to Tojo, who still had a firm grip under both sides of Tyson’s ribcage. Tojo looked confused for a moment, then a little grin appeared. Tojo flexed his arms apart just a little and we all heard the resounding crack of a busted rib. Tojo dropped a sobbing Tyson to the floor.

“Tojo wish for world peace,” he said.

In this photo, Guv Riley and Chief Pascagoula seal the deal that will send

Alabamians scurrying to Mississippi for their pulleybones

Originally Posted on http://www.lunchinthegump.com/

Lunch in the Gump: Lek's Railroad Thai Curries Flavor

Hot Thai

You do not have to endure the civil unrest in Thailand to enjoy really good Thai food for Lunch in the Gump. Located in the old Union Station down on the river (300B Water Street), Lek's Railroad Thai is consistently rated as one of the top-ten places to eat lunch or dinner in the Gump. Even the fussy Shadow Pup raved about the place for dinner on her Sup in the Gump blog not long ago. (Did you know she was pictured on the DeJaVu CSN&Y album?)

Shadow Pup with her peeps David, Stephen, Graham and Neil at the shooting of the album cover.

But I digress. This blog is primarily designed to address luncheon concerns although a good argument could be made that given the proclivities of the LITG Gang, we ought to be rating bars in the Gump also. Lek's is a good example of a good restaurant that has one of the neatest bars in town but does not attract a bar crowd because the restaurant is so popular. For those concerned about mundane things like money, the lunch menu lists numerous curry and other entrees for $7.50 to $8.50 and they all come with soup and one of the best spring rolls around. Those in a hurry will be pleased to know that if you order off the lunch menu, you will in and out in less than 30 minutes from the time you sit down--which might be a problem because the place usually has a line to get in which moves pretty fast for the very reason stated above. And for those concerned about your carbon footprint, Lek's is on the "Lunch Trolley Express" route and is near the inter modal bus facility.

Now as far as food taste and quality is concerned, Lek's is outstanding. I like curry and their Musmin Chicken Curry and Red Curry Chicken are my personal favorites. The latter is served in coconut milk with bamboo shoots and red peppers. No, they do not serve milk steak just because they use coconut milk in several dishes.

Red Curry Chicken Half-Finished or, if you are an optimist, half-full.

Now if you always want fried chicken, cornbread and collards cooked in fat like that lard-ass Bama Bing, this is not the place for you. But if you occasionally want good portions of spicy Thai food that will not put you into a grease coma, Lek's is a nice change of pace.

Side effect of food coma as demonstrated by Darla

I, for one, am a lunch renaissance man. I can enjoy The El Paso Chile Company, The Davis Cafe & Lounge (another lunch/bar spot) and Lek's all in the same week. Lek's also has a real sushi bar that appears popular with the Maxwell AFB Air War College students from Thailand. At least the mid-level officers. If you are new to sushi, I would recommend--despite the name--The Bama Crunch Roll.

Specify "Thai Hot" if you like more of these.

Lek's is open from 11 a.m. to 2:30 PM for lunch M-F. I have to go with Shadow Pup and give this place a five pepper rating. She is, after all, an Lh.D.