After Visit to "Cantina," Tojo Clings to Life

[Ed note: Cantina is kaput. Unfortunately their owner died and we wish his family the very best.  However, Jalapenos has opened in the space and they provide complimentary chips/salsa and fast table service.  Jan. 23, 2013]

So anyway, this morning the GumpPhone lights up and as usual it's the Cornbread Carp. Apparently one of the Guinea Pigs went to the new Cantina Tortilla Grill* in the Alley last week and lived to tell about it, so the Carp (who always gets his way) decreed that the Cantina was cleared for a full review by Lunch in the Gump.

Like so many redneck tragedies that start out "hold my beer and watch this shit," today's LITG review doesn't end well, and something tells me that a particular Guinea Pig, the one they call "Squeak," is going to lose his job over this. Yes, his furry little head is going to roll.

A gentle giant, when properly fed.

Thinking everything was safe, I grabbed my old pal Tojo Yamamoto and set off up Commerce Street to the Alley so we could check out our newest Mex joint. As loyal LITG readers know, Tojo is a man of very few words, and absolutely no articles, conjunctions or linking verbs. Tojo would sooner disembowel himself with a dull samurai sword than utter the words "and" or "the," or use a complete sentence, or speak in anything but the present tense, or refer to himself in the first person. But maybe that's why we all like Tojo so much... he uses his mouth as an insertion point for food and not for blathering on and on about meaningless crap like the rest of us do.

"Tojo hungry," he said. That's about all you're ever going to get out of Tojo.

We made our way past the intimidating pastel pink facade of the Rushton Stakely firm, walking in the middle of the street due to the never-ending sidewalk construction between there and the posh offices of 2WR Architects & Partyboys, LLC. This particular sidewalk project has been going on for so long that many of us downtowners wonder if it isn't really the Outer Loop, or a super-colliding superconductor, or maybe pyramids they're building. But I digress, as always.

Cantina is stylish & tasty, but over
the Tojo Line, pricewise.

Tojo was smiling, bowing to everybody and rubbing his impressive belly in anticipation as we entered the very stylish Cantina. He looked around. He sniffed the aroma. "Tojo like," he said. The Carp, Shadow Pup and Norm Peterson were already there and gave us the protocol. At Cantina, you order at the bar first, then find a seat and they bring your food out to you, pronto.

Tojo pondered the menu and as you might imagine, he was drawn to the category "Big Plates." His eyes narrowed at the $10.95 price tag, somewhat over the Tojo Line, but we all knew what was happening. If you bait a trap with something called "Big Plates" you will catch Tojo every time.

The big man ordered Cilantro Chicken from the "Big Plates" part of the menu. The dish was described as cilantro-marinated chicken breast with roasted corn, poblano peppers and saffron rice. Tojo was all over it. With tea and tax, Tojo's lunch tab came to $13.97, but since it came from the "Big Plates" category, he shrugged and forked over the dough.

About this time we all felt a strange rumbling, and the whole Cantina began to vibrate, as if a freight train was making its way through the Alley. Before the Cantina's patrons could panic, though, Tojo put them at ease. "Tojo miss breakfast, stomach empty," he said. We were relieved there wasn't a seismic event occurring in the Alley, but worried nevertheless because none of us had ever known our large Asian friend to miss a meal under any circumstances. Our boy was really hungry.

Luckily (or so we thought) they got the food out quickly and the gang dug into their excellent tacos, cuban sandwiches, garlic fries and such... but Tojo was crestfallen. Yep, it was a "Big Plate" all right. Big enough that the puny little dab of food on that plate looked like the Hawaiian Islands sitting in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, as seen from the moon.

Visibly distressed, Tojo looked around the Cantina in hopes that a server would bring the rest of his lunch but alas, it was what it was... a scrawny little boneless Paris Hilton chicken breast sitting on top of a couple spoonfuls of rice with a little canned corn and maybe six or seven small bites of bell pepper thrown in.

Running out of options, Tojo had no choice but to immediately ingest the Cilantro Chicken, a process which took maybe ten seconds. But the rumbling didn't subside. Near panic, Tojo ran back to the counter (to the extent Tojo can "run") and ordered chips and salsa. With tax, that was $3.30 more! DIOS MIO!! Three bucks for chips and salsa in a place called "Cantina?" Tojo was out-of-pocket $17.27 and hadn't even replenished the 300 calories he had burned walking his big ass two blocks up Commerce Street to get there in the first place.

Tojo went pale and his eyes rolled back into his head, then he slumped over. The Cantina fell silent, except for the lingering tremors of Tojo's hunger pangs and Shadow Pup's incessant yipping. The paramedics were on the scene in a flash, but damn if they didn't have to call in a second unit because it took two gurneys to get Tojo out of there.

One particularly quick-thinking paramedic ran down the Alley to Saza's and commandeered somebody's Rigatoni Bolognese (the $16 dinner portion, I think) and was force-feeding Tojo as they wheeled him out to the ambulance. Also, one of Jerry Kyser's crew happened by with a refrigerator dolly and helped load him up.

Anyway, Tojo appeared to be coming around when the ambulance pulled away on Commerce Street, narrowly missing a gaggle of Beasley Allen secretaries who were walking in the middle of the street because the sidewalk can't seem to get paved in two year's time. Sheesh, you can put a man on the moon but you can't pave a half block of sidewalk so that legal secretaries don't get run over by paramedics hauling ass to keep a Japanese rassler from starving to death.

Oh, and if anybody has seen "Squeak," tell him he needs to see Bidgood Bob ASAP.

[Ed. Note: 9/1/2011: Today the Cantina served a very nice chicken bisque which went well with the steak tacos.  Fine if you are not someone who needs tons to eat at lunch...like Tojo.]


* Footnote: Seriously, Cantina is a great addition to the Alley. The food was excellent, the decor is as cool as the other side of the pillow, it's fast and they should do a great business once the liquor license comes through. They need to work on portion size relative to price, in our opinion, or maybe it's just the early-stage baby steps. We'll be back... next time for margaritas, drunk-talk and secretary-chasing. 


Also, Tojo is recovering nicely. Luckily, Chris' Hot Dogs, Scott Street Deli and Hamburger King were all on the way to Jackson Hospital and it looks like our boy will be okay. The only problem was Blue Cross, which balked at Tojo's dietary needs... at first.

Carp Pleads Innocence--Legal Team Announced

(AP)--The "Blogging 11" were arraigned today at the Federal Courthouse. Each plead "not guilty" to the 65-count indictment charging they took favors from restaurants in exchange for glowing reviews. The defendants included bloggers from "Eat Gump," "Midtown Montgomery Living," "Lunch in the Gump," "Urban Spoon," "Lost in Montgomery," and "The Adventures of Pirate Bendy."

[Portions of article dealing with other blogs deleted]

Lunch in the Gump's Corn B. Carp refused to repeat his "I was baited!" quote made at his arrest last week. He deferred all questions to the head of his legal team Reginald T. McLucid who introduced the remainder of the team: David Copperfield and Chuckles the Clown. "This will be a dog and pony show to rival Barnum and Bailey," Mr. McLucid said as Copperfield made the 125-page indictment disappear in a puff of smoke.

"Poof!"

Also with "Team Carp" was a large oriental gentleman wearing a red silk robe and sandals presumed to be former wrestler Tojo Yamamoto and rumored to be Blogger # 2 referenced in the indictment.

Supporters of the indicted bloggers rallied outside the courthouse carrying signs. One woman, who would only say her name was "Tammy E", held a sign that read: "Cornbread, You Changed My Life!" When interviewed she said she was afraid to go out to many lunch spots in Montgomery until the "Lunch in the Gump" blog appeared. "I believe the Carp is innocent," she added, "I am here because I believe this is an injustice."

The crowd outside was not all pro-blogger. One man, who called himself "George" held a sign depicting a cloud of shoes circling Montgomery. "The other shoes are about the drop," he said with a mysterious grin.

U.S. Magistrate Judge Capell Howard set the trial for all eleven on April 4, 2011. At the present time, no motions for separate trials have been filed.

After the arraignment was over, the Blogging 11 enjoyed a fine lunch at Reggie's Place in the basement of the courthouse. Reggies was reviewed on Lunch in the Gump months ago.

Dreamland revisited: The mystique of Bob’s Salad

Alhough the LITG faithful might wish to poo-poo our lunch location selection today since we went to a chain restaurant (gasp!), the TRUE faithful will know (1) that a review of Dreamland has been posted on this blog previously (http://lunchinthegump.blogspot.com/2009/07/dreamland-bar-b-que.html) and (2) that we don’t really give a damn what you think about our lunchtime choices (I would include a parenthetical hyperlink to support this statement but there are too many too include, so take your pick).

But this was no aimless lunchtime gathering; we were on a mission. Fat Clemenza, Shadow Pup, and I had heard rumor of an off-menu item called “Bob’s Salad” and decided to investigate. There is a shroud of mystery around Bob’s Salad, but we knew at least enough to know that (1) other people had ordered it more than 24 hours prior and had not died; (2) the salad has chicken on it -- the pulled variety (I had to assure Shadow Pup that the chickens were humanely “put down” before any "pulling" commences); and (3) the salad can be ordered “hot” – with jalapenos – or “mild” – without jalapenos.

We coolly entered the establishment and took our seats near the back. As always, the place was hopping and the ribs were smoking. We scoffed when the menus were brought to us. As if! Mustering up the confidence of someone who orders exactly what she pleases, on the menu or not, I told the waitress that I would be ordering a Bob’s Salad. With bated breath, I waited. Did I need to have a password to successfully complete my order? Was she going to ask to see my Bob’s Club membership card? Would she start quizzing me about this mysterious “Bob” fellow (whose last name may or may not be “Salad”) to see if I really knew who he was and whether I was really entitled to eat his salad? (By the way, if “eating one’s salad” is some sort of vulgar metaphor, my inclusion of it here is completely unattended.)

But nothing happened. Well, I mean, something happened. I mean, the waitress wrote down my order and moved on to Shadow Pup. What I'm saying is, nothing unusual happened. There were no requests for secret passwords, handshakes, or ID cards. Bob did not appear and denounce having any relationship with me, at least not one that would rise to the level where I could eat his salad. (Gosh, that’s really starting to sound bad, isn’t it? My sincerest apologies to Bob…and his family.) We moved right along, and the waitress simply turned to Shadow Pup and asked what he would be having in his bowl. He barked twice. Since he is a regular at Dreamland, she was able to interpret his dog-speak and figure out that he wanted the “hot” version of the salad. Fat Clemenza got on the bandwagon and ordered a hot one too.

After several minutes of conversation, we had ourselves a table full of salad:

Kickin’ it healthy style at Dreamland!

So, it turns out that Bob’s Salad is basically just a healthy version of the pulled chicken salad. We got lettuce, grilled tomatoes, pickles, jalapenos (optional), pulled chicken, and – my favorite touch – pineapple. The only dressing was a bit of olive oil. There may have been more ingredients but I can’t recall them right now.

We dove into our bowls. Shadow Pup was particularly ferocious whilst eating. Either he was especially hungry, or he was happy that he was (for once) not the only one eating his food out of a bowl. We ate…and ate…and ate. There was a lot of food in that bowl! I finally gave up. The thing about having a salad as the sum and total of one’s meal is that, well, it just gets boring after a while. You can’t move around your plate, taking bites of different items as you go. There’s no variety for the palate. Sure, your forkfuls can vary as to chicken/lettuce/veg/fruit ratio, but, all in all, there’s not much difference in what you get. So, some perhaps satisfied more than others, we finished our meals:

Shadow Pup likes to pretend he knows how to use a fork sometimes.

Bob only charges $8.95 to eat his salad (seriously, I hope this man doesn’t have kids who are reading this), so we managed to stay under the Tojo line. Normally I don’t care too much for salad but this one is worth a try. It is a unique meal with some interesting flavors, and it’s certainly more healthy than most anything else on Dreamland’s menu (if you’re into that sort of thing). I must say, though, the mystique of ordering an off-menu item is part of the allure. All in all, I give it 3 out of 5 ribs.

Fine Lunching Above the Tojo Line at Michael's Table

Before I get started I want to first commend to you a nostalgic remembrance of long gone fine lunch restaurants in Montgomery (before it became "The Gump") penned by one of our classier members: Whig in a Blanket. You can access this well-written piece above or by clicking here.  Actually, It was my recent luncheon at Michael's Table in Zelda Place which brought Whig's tome to mind.  In Michael's Table restaurant I may have indeed found a place to the WIB's liking or, at least, some place that may hold a candle to the revered "Elite."

It is, alas, not a place for my dear friends Tojo, Cornbread Carp, or Show Dog. Their tastes and budgets run counter to a restaurant with metal forks that do not bend with slight pressure, a wine list, table cloths and prices over the $10 so-called "Tojo Line."  But recently my colleagues  Bama Bing (a financier) and Doctor NBA (a practitioner of the healing arts) joined me for a leisurely luncheon at the table of chef Michael Hochhalter at his cozy little restaurant tucked discreetly out of the way in the Zelda Place Shopping area on Zelda Road. They, Reginald McLucid and "Whiggy", certainly have the education, breeding and funds to occasionally splurge on a $14 lunch despite some recent challenging economic times.  As you know from prior posts, I have experienced a slight downturn of fortune which has resulted in my taking a sabbatical from my Club.  The silver lining of my self-imposed exile is my discovery of a few fine places to eat that I may have missed by force of habit. Michael's Table is certainly one of them.

Recently, the establishment was well patroned primarily with groups of present or former Miss America contestants. A few gentlemen were sitting in the back area where I joined my chums for glasses of port while we considered the eclectic choices.  The Michael's Table menu offers everything from Mezze (hummus, cheese, tzatzki, tomatoes and relishes) to Tuna Nicoise. Not your average "meat and three" fare eh? My associates ordered the Machaka Beef Burritos and purred satisfaction over their wine.  I tried the Judy's Chicken Salad and found a very fair portion of chicken salad served on a fresh slice of cantaloupe and a bed of lettuce.  Not only delicious and filling but reasonably within my dietary constraints.  The meals came with pita bread and olive oil dipping sauce for about $13 each. Sorry Carp, no cornbread or butter. A little pricey for some tastes but well worth it to someone with a little extra time to enjoy a real lunch prepared by a fine chef.

I am so delighted they are open for lunch and in my view the prices keep out the riff raff.  Sorry, if I have offended anyone. Perhaps I had one too many tots of port.