Friday Microgump: Lunde's is a Contender

A small unit of Gumpers pulled off a surprise sneak attack on Lunde's (downtown, first floor of the Bell Building), which got a great unsanctioned review early last month from Shadow Pup, head of LITG's elite K-9 Corps. Mimi Furst, FTR and I had some bidness to tend to Friday and I still had a bad taste in my mouth from Monday's trip to Wintzell's, so we agreed on Lunde's. Very good call, as it turned out.

Shadow Pup is a reliable reviewer, but his judgment can be clouded by his sudden urges, like when he suddenly has to go hump a leg or needs to mark his turf. He likes to sniff butts, although we try not to tease him about that. Shadow Pup also saved Tojo Yamamoto from a bad experience at a local Chinese place, too. It seems Shadow Pup smelled a relative in the walk-in. You've gotta trust Shadow Pup's sniffer. But I digress.

Going stark raving mad for properly-cooked seafood with some pizazz, and remembering Shadow Pup's lengthy but informative review of Lunde's. We tried it. WE SHOOT, WE SCORE!!

I went with an old favorite - Shrimp Ettouffe. Outstanding, spiciness level just *barely* below where I like it with only a couple of drops of Tabasco needed to get it perfect. This is key... cajun cooking is like getting a haircut. You can't uncut hair and you don't want your food too hot from the get-go. The shrimp were like baby bear's porridge -- just right. Fresh, good-sized, plentiful and perfectly cooked, i.e., they were the last ingredients added to the ettouffe.

Mimi had the blackened Tilapia and seemed very compatible with it. FTR went with a steak po-boy (hmm, interesting... it was dripping with gravy... he ate it with a fork... very nice he said... he didn't share... well okay then).

Anyway, I am suggesting we Gump this place hard, because not only was the food damn good, it was a great value. But I can't put it into words so I will just let the annotated lunch tab make like a Larry Puckett customer and do the talking for me. Check this out:

Dumped in the Gump: Doyle B Laid to Rest

Our friend Doyle B was laid to rest yesterday in Greenwood Cemetery. After the graveside ceremony we all hauled ass up to the Capitol Inn, where every Wednesday it's all-you-can-eat fried pork chops. Doyle always said without a doubt the CI has the best FPCs in the Gump.

After lunch everybody gathered outside for the Doyle B Memorial Service. There wasn't a dry eye in the whole CI parking lot when the LITG gang led the mourners in a singing of Doyle's favorite songs, "Cheeseburger in Paradise" and "Leaving on a Jet Plane."

Then late yesterday these out-of-towners in suits came around asking the fellas, when did Doyle move to the Gump? What did Doyle do for a living? Stuff like that. They said they were from the Government. We all seemed to recall Doyle showing up in the early 70s and that he always seemed to have a wad of cash but never really flashed it around. Stayed pretty low-key. Serious about his lunch.

The G-Men asked about Doyle's wife. Well, we told them, she ain't exactly his "wife" and she didn't even show up for Doyle's service. As far as any of us knew she was out there at Doyle's place digging holes. All that crazy bitch ever did was dig.

Lunch in the Gump: Wintzell's Oyster House Non-Countering Counter-Point: Where A Drool and His Money Soon Parted

Heard the boys hit Wintzell's Monday in my absence so I visited today with "cover guineas" to try it out for myself assuming the real group had decided, due to the untimely death of Doyle B, to call a moritorium on information. Not laboring under such restrictions, I saw the opportunity to hit the web with my own take but, alas, just saw the previous blog. Darn it if my take is not all that different from Bama Bing but since the following was already written here goes:

It was indeed hard to go back to work so soon after the tragic passing of a rogue Chris' Hotdog through poor Doyle B's stomach lining, but life goes on as does commerce. Speaking of which, Wintzell's Oyster House, formerly an old Mobile family seafood house, has gone "corporate" (not that there is anything wrong with that) by opening its ninth location at 105 Commerce Street in Gump Central (and supposedly looking for franchisees for East Gumphry and Prattville). Now, given what I have just said, you must realize that the following constitutes a non-sanctioned personal review of a lunch spot that really does not meet all of the loose LITG criteria and because of the obvious involvement of "oysters" must be subject to an ever greater disclaimer than usual. But, of course, Dreamland was reviewed and did not technically meet the criteria but once we let that hog's nose under the smoker hood we predictably descended that proverbial "slippery slope" here coated with slimy oyster gradue such that we have to now deal with Wintzells due to the clamor of the mob packing this eatery 7 days a week.

First and foremost, let me say on Tuesday the Wintzell's lunch product was pretty good and you better get there early or late to get right in. The place is currently very popular. Your humble author had the blackened "catch of the day" (supposedly grouper but I did not see the DNA tests so famous for outing Mobile seafood establishments) and it was seasoned, fresh, hot and served on a warm buttered bun. It was also $9 bucks (USD). So with $2 tea and a $3 side salad instead of fries, my tab (with the City Council's share) came to almost $15 (9 pounds) pre-tip. A guinea pig next to me really liked the spicy gumbo and somehow managed getting two cups and being charged for one. I, for one, am not willing to beg. I recommend skipping the tea and trying the still tap sweet river water the Gump is so famous for.


Having the option of grilled, blackened or fried seafood for lunch is an additional option for lunch in New Philadelphia i.e. Gump Central. However, some of us worry that our local establishments with equally fine seafood offerings (like Lunde's or Bama Bistro for example) may fail because we true believers in Gumpicuria do not patronize them. It is perhaps a Hobson's Choice --but not really.


Second, despite the newly constructed and modern location adjacent to the snazzy Renaissance Hotel, the tacky and traditional "Wintzell's Words of Wisdom" cover almost every square inch of the walls and are "to some" annoying. For sarcastic cynical know-it-alls like, for example, Shadow Pup they are beyond hokey and something that could be fodder for endless jokes by adding "at Wintzells". For example:

"A fool and his money are soon parted at Wintzells"

or this:

"The only difference between a Po-Boy and a Poor-Boy is lunch at Wintzells"

I am sure you have already thought of funnier lines you would love to see on the walls at Wintzells. If so, post as comments.

I also noted that Tojo apparently has already visited the place because some of the "Wintzell's Words of Wisdom" posted on the walls appeared to be authored by him. A couple or three stood out:

"What fish good to eat here? Catch of Day! What if not good fish?"

Or:

"No Shirt, No Shoes, No Tojo"

or:

"Never look at gift fish in the mouth. If not gift, it cost too much at Wintzells"

In conclusion, I would rate Wintzell's high on service, quality and taste, questionable on wisdom and low on value. Three shrimp out of five gumbos.

We will miss old Doyle B. May he find a buffet in heaven.

Binion

Lunch in the Gump: After Doyle checked out, LITG checked out Wintzell's

Yesterday morning the Lunch in the Gump gang all went to see Doyle B on his deathbed. With his dying breath, Doyle reminded us that we hadn’t tried seafood lately, so we decided we'd hit the new Wintzell’s Oyster House if Doyle would go ahead and pass away before the end of the traditional lunch hour.

Just like he was at a Holiday Inn Express, Doyle checked out by 11:30 AM. We went through his pockets, found three wadded-up twenties and Show Dog said, “Woo hoo! Lunch is on Doyle today.” After starting on a downer, this particular Monday was looking up.

Doyle’s defective common-law wife, having long since absconded with anything of value, was of course nowhere to be found (that bitch). So we called the funeral home with the address, told them Doyle was there on the sofa not going anywhere and left the front door unlocked. We got to Wintzell’s ahead of the crowd, with healthy appetites and Doyle’s $60, which he sure wasn't going to need wherever he was headed.

We were pretty jazzed up about going to Wintzell’s. While the place is part of a chain, LITG has been known to waive the no-chain rule if the chain originated in Alabama. Wintzell’s was founded in downtown Mobile in 1938 (see original at left) and was as well-known for its irreverent interior signage (“Emily Post threw up here” being an example) as it was for its old-school staff, cold drinks, fresh seafood, and world-class gumbo. The original Wintzell’s was in the same class as some of the famed New Orleans oyster joints.

Well, this version of Wintzell’s was a disappointment. First of all, it's at the Renaissance downtown in a space tricked out like the Gotham Bar & Grill. The preprinted, homey little sayings on placards covering the walls don't disguise the fact that if Wintzell's doesn't make it, David Bronner can move Chez Fru-Fru right in. The food was ordinary, bland and/or overcooked and none of the Gumps in attendance was particularly excited about any of it. Maybe we all ordered wrong or caught them on a bad day.

Before I even took a bite... I guess there was so

much rice in there, some settling occurred.

My gumbo was tasty, but the shrimp had been cooking in there so long they had shrunken to the size of Sea Monkeys... tough, chewy little Sea Monkeys! And they didn’t even fill up the massive cup, as shown above.

Catfish ordered an oyster po-boy and the oysters were overcooked to the toughness of well-done chicken. Many things are supposed to taste like chicken --rattlesnake, for instance, or alligator -- but not oysters. Even a fried oyster is supposed to have that certain slime factor.

Show Dog ordered the fried crawfish appetizer and got seven scrawny crab claws instead. I was embarrassed to ask if I could taste one for fear Show Dog might starve to death.

The normally easy-to-please Tojo Yamamoto ordered shrimp and grits. After lunch I asked him how it was, and Tojo replied, “Grits in middle. Six little shrimp in circle. Sauce like baby food. Tojo still hungry.”

$16.04 pre-tip

A $19.04 check (including a $3.00 tip) left me underwhelmed. We agreed that Doyle was probably rolling over in his grave, then Tojo reminded us “Doyle not in grave. Doyle on sofa unless bipolar common-law wife come back to get sofa already.”

We left thinking Lunde’s should be our next stop, for some actual Gulf Coast/Cajun/New Orleans/Mobile/Creole/properly spicy/non-chain/somebody-in-the-kitchen-gives-a-shit food.

We will also cover Doyle’s funeral later in the week.

Slumped Over in the Gump: LITG co-founder DoyleB succumbs to IBS

Lunch in the Gump mourns the passing of its co-founder Doyle B, who passed away this morning after a courageous two-week battle with indigestion and irritable bowel syndrome, believed to have been brought on by complications from a recent trip to Chris’ Hot Dogs.

Doyle fell ill soon after writing a favorable but poorly-received review of the nearly 100 year-old Dexter Avenue eatery. According to friends and co-workers, he initially brushed off the usual indigestion as “probably just another heart attack” and did not seek immediate medical attention.

"We call it the China Syndrome,” said one gumper, on the condition of anonymity, “once a Chris Dog gets through that first layer of stomach lining, you play hell stopping it.”

Similar incidents have been known to occur after trips to Hamburger King, Mexico Tipico and even late-night Krystal runs, but no member of Lunch in the Gump has ever paid the ultimate price, until now. “I always figured it would be Shadow Pup,” said long-time Gumper Reginald McLucid, “he’ll eat anything, even if it comes out of a dumpster or off the side of the road. I never envisioned Doyle going out this way.”

Tearful gumper Catfish remembers Doyle as “A man who could eat anything.” Catfish went on to say, “That guy could eat sushi, followed by gumbo, after snacking on red-hot pork skins with Tabasco sauce and then chase it all down with three or four Bryant-Denny dogs. I can’t believe he got taken out by a damn Chris Dog.”

Survivors include Doyle’s on-again, off-again common-law wife and some ungrateful kids, not a one of whom looks like Doyle.

Lunch in the Gump co-founder Binion announced that a memorial service will be held Wednesday at the Capitol Inn. “Wednesday is all-you-can-eat fried pork chop day at the CI,” said Binion. “Doyle would have wanted everybody to join him for one last trip down the buffet. Or two trips.”

"It includes dessert," added charter gumper Fat Clemenza.

Doyle was a big fella, so active pallbearers will be Binion, Catfish, Reginald McLucid, Clemenza, He-Who-Has-No-Nickname, Show Dog, The Younger, Mimi Furst (if she shows up), BoDiddly, Shadow Pup, Tojo Yamamoto, Freddie the Rat, Zorro, BB MAK and Elihu Smails, plus volunteers as needed.

Newcomer Bidgood Bob will take over Doyle's LITG responsibilities, effective immediately, or as soon as he gets out of the men's room after his trip to Wintzell's.