Egg and I: The Perfect Antidote for Turkey Coma and Collegiate Handbladder

I may have been born in Ireland, but after decades here I get Thanksgiving and American Football. As for Thanksgiving, which to some is an excuse for overeating, I have grown to like the taste of Turkey and Dressing and the underlying message of being thankful for our many blessings.  I admit I have indulged in both and experienced the placebo effects of small doses of L-tryptophan which provide a very good afternoon snooze Thanksgiving Day.
 
As for American Football, which should really be named "Handbladder" because it does not truly involve a ball-shaped object and normally involves use of the hands instead of feet, I understand the basic concept of four downs to cover 10 yards and the speed, strength and toughness needed to excel.  In some respects it is much like the Irish football (a form of Rugby) which I played on the fields of Trinity College in Dublin without pads or helmets.  You may be surprised to learn that we have an American Football Association in Ireland where the Carrickfergus Knights of the IAFL North battle my Trinity College and The Dublin Rebels of the IAFL Central.  In fact, it was the Dublin Rebels who won the Shamrock Bowl XXIV in August. Those of you history-deprived Southerners wallowing in the shame or indignation of your War Between the States probably do not realize that a team named the Rebels would be very popular in Dublin since some of you probably are not aware of our little dust-up with the British around the time you Yanks were involved in World War I.  No matter.

The point of all of this is that on Sunday after Thanksgiving and your Iron Bowl I had the idea of trying out the Egg and I in Z-Red for a truly American breakfast that I can understand and enjoy.  I am aware that the Egg and I is a chain concept but it, like Dreamland, is locally owned by someone who actually works there during most public hours so it qualified for a LITG visit/review and, by Paddy, I was the right bloke to try it out. I may not understand why Alabama fans pull for a team called the Crimson Tide but have an emaciated elephant mascot or Auburn fans have a live eagle fly around with a tiger mascot with an oversized head, but I understand the basic game.  And frankly, on Sunday I was tired of turkey and all the talking about the game--the breast beating and the teeth gnashing.  It is obvious to me, an outsider, that one year one of these teams will be the best and the next another. All the talk about which is a better university because of the outcome of the game makes no sense, at least to me.

"The Flapper" Pre-Syrup

After suffering turkey and football overload what makes sense to me is some comfort food. Every now and then, nothing says "comfort food" like a giant pancake covering your entire plate slathered with butter and warm maple syrup. Add to that some fresh scrambled eggs, sausage, a hot cup of coffee and some fresh-squeezed orange juice and the mind and body returns to stasis.  A little pricey ($3 juice and an extra $1 for cheese on the eggs) but nevertheless a simple meal for a simple Irishman who is ready to move on to the Christmas season thankful for his blessings regardless of the outcome of a rousing game of handbladder a/k/a armoured wankerball.

So whether you are a Roll Eagle or a War Tide, I think we can all agree that a good hot breakfast at Egg and I provides some solace even if your University is not very good at football.  Give the Egg and I a try and let us know what you think.

May the best pancakes win!

Cheers. CNA.

Bún 101: Vietnamese Vermicelli at Saigon Bistro

Like many of us do over time, I have branched out from the usual meat and three rut and boy am I glad I have.  Fried chicken, okra and cornbread are fine but as a change of pace I have become especially fond of Asian cuisine. Meals at India Palace, and Green Papaya have taught me there is some mighty fine food out East (and I am not talking about East Montgomery a/k/a West Shorter). Based upon the recommendation of No Grits No Glory, I tried Sushi Cafe and agree that it is a great new place in Z-Red which also serves Asian cuisine.

So, when the Younger and Tiny Dancer suggested we try some Vietnamese food at Saigon Deli I bit. Literally.

As it turns out, the family which ran Saigon Deli moved their act to the former Lone Star Steakhouse next to the Fatback Outback Steakhouse this past October. They have renamed it Saigon Bistro. The Vietnamese restaurant, owned by David Mai, is now located at 1060 East Blvd. It is a little of a pain to get to (you have to turn into Sam's and then turn right into the parking lot behind the restaurant) but worth the inconvenience.

I obviously know very little about Vietnamese cuisine and will not pretend to lecture you here. A frequent patron recommend the Chicken or Beef Curry Vermicelli Bowl which caused me to do a double-take and ask: "Vermicelli? That doesn't sound very Vietnamese?"

"Well, Vietnam was once a French Colony, so they have a French influence," I was told. And, for a second it made sense. But then it hit me, vermicelli is an Italian pasta. It isn't French at all. Is it?

Well, actually it is. The thin noodles are really "long ass rice" used in many Asian dishes and are called Bún in Vietnamese. Vermicelli is just the Italian word for thin noodles. Confused? Just order it. With beef instead of chicken it costs just $6.50 and I bet you that you cannot eat the entire meal. The bowl it comes in is the size of a popcorn bowl. Add some peppers and bean sprouts and you will have more than you can handle especially if you have some fresh spring rolls filled with two shrimp apiece.

Tiny Dancer got some tofu vegetarian dish she liked a lot. The Younger ordered what I did and loaded it down with some of the pepper sauces on the table. When we finished he was breathing fire but very happy with the meal.

Service was fast and friendly with a lot of "Thank you sirs." The inside of the former steakhouse is open and can accommodate a lot of patrons.

I recommend you go try Saigon Bistro and have some Bún! You will find it on the menu page for Vermicelli. Go figure.

 

Semper Pie: Mrs B's Home Cooking and the Corps

I have a deep respect for the Marine Corps or, more specifically, Marines. In 1945 my father was 17 when as a private in the 5th Marine Division he came ashore on Iwo Jima and eventually earned a Bronze Star leading what was left of is company from pill box to pill box. He witnessed the flag being raised on Mt. Suribachi...both times...and lived to tell about it. Only he wouldn't.

Flash forward to 2011 and a close friend's son-in-law, a Marine Harrier pilot, has just deployed for his first combat action in Afghanistan. "From the halls of Montezuma, to the shores of Tripoli..." We are all praying for his safe return.

I had no idea, when the LITG gang arrived for the first time at Mrs B's Home Cooking on Cullman Street, that my respect for the Marine Corps and my appreciation of fresh southern vegetables, cornbread and fried chicken could both be enjoyed at the same time.

Like most Marines, the outward appearance of Mrs. B's may not appear inviting. The neighborhood is not great, the old house Mrs. B's occupies had seen better days and there was a sign posted that said simply: "Cook Wanted." Like some Marines, the Facebook page for Mrs. B's evidenced someone whose strongest attributes did not include writing or grammar. For example:

"I THANK EVERYBODY SUPPORT MRS B'S OPEN ONN SUNDY ALSO FROM 11 TO 4 TODAY WE HAVE TURKER, BAKE DRESSING, OX TAILS, SMOTHER PORK CHOP, FRIED CHICKEN, CHITTLING, COLLARD GREEN CABBAGE GREENS, MAC/CHEESE, STEAM OKRA, FRIED CORN, YYYAMS, RICE, SQUASH CASS, CORN BREAB, ROLL AND DESSERT ETC. PLEASE SEND THIS TO YOUR THAT DON'T NO ABOUT MRS B'S DON'T KEEP IT TO YOURSELF THANK YOU."

However, also true to the Marines, once you get past the outward appearances and reveal the core of the people and place involved, you realize they are special. Marines do things and don't necessarily talk about them very well, if at all. As soon as I saw the man greeting us I knew he was a Marine (there are no "former" Marines). It was the way he carried himself. And everyone working in this place appeared either to be part of a very close family or disciplined to make every guest feel that everyone working there were part owners.

To me, Mrs. B's is a special place. The interior of Mrs B's has been restored with love, hard work and an attention to detail. The steam table is short and full of what people used to call "soul food" but today we recognize as southern home-style cooking. For eight bucks (including tea) you receive a plate full of fresh vegetables and your choice of meat and cornbread. As a connoisseur of the latter I can affirm it's quality. The pie for dessert was also excellent. The next time I go back I might even try the oxtails. I would trust them to be the best oxtails in Montgomery.

But the memory I carry from my visit to Mrs. B's was looking up from a very tasty plate of food toward a Marine Corps flag and seeing on the wall the pictures of what appeared to be the four sons and daughters of the owner.

They were all young Marines.

Like my father.



Semper fi.

LITG Halloween Special: The Night of the Living Poblanos!

They appear docile. Some are bilingual and wear sombreros. But none are to be trifled with.


Just when you thought it was safe to come out of the water or, perhaps, the drainage ditch, they attack.

Any LITG regular knows from which they come. It is from this way they come. And there is nothing more horrible than a furious, voracious, or, even worse, a wounded Chile Poblano.

They are offered on many menus. But. But. When angered. When not held at bay. They can attack. They can attack like Michael Meyers on Halloween. They can attack like an Alien in the belly of an actor with a terrible English accent. And it is not pretty. Not pretty at all.

How do you protect yourself from a crazed chile poblano? A knife? No. Not a knife. They laugh at knives...the poblano nation laughs at sharp objects.

A fork? Used with a knife, yes, that is the ticket.

Yes, a fork in the skilled hand of a Lunch in the Gump contributor is the only thing that can counter the terror of hearing the low moan of a crazed zombie poblano. Aim for the brain (what little there is of it). That is where the virus lives or, more accurately, festers. Try to ignore the tasty brown stuffing. Remember to Double Tap.

We've encountered them at La Zona Rosa and other "Mexican" restaurants. We have backed them down. But none of us have really met them in their element. We've never faced them when they have emerged from a tub of salsa during the night.

Be afraid. Be very afraid....

Shadow Pup with vanquished poblano. She's their nightmare on Boxwood.

The Nutty "Occupy 'Down the Street' Movement"

We are not "Down with the Struggle" against the Street

I don't get it. Despite its flaws, we have the greatest lunch system in the world based upon the free operation of self-interested appetites. Sure, not everyone gets a second helping of cornbread and some can afford truffles, but what is it about these ex-hippies and the "Occupy Gail's Down the Street" movement? What do they have against the meat and three system?

Did they hear Gail on the radio saying "Come see us in the curve on Zelda Road?" Was it the references to "...REAL mashed potatoes and every body's favorite dessert: banana puddin'!" Was it the fact that "Down the Street" is misleadingly on a "Road"? Are they pissed that Gail's Down the Street Cafe is not really a cafe. Is the "secret word" to get a free dessert: "Anarchy"?



Everyone should be glad they ended dancing at Down the Street....



Whatever the cause, the fruits and nuts are out to torment the establishment meat and three. Sure, Gail's does not serve great food, but Gail's does serve decent food only moderately overpriced. Gails "Grilled Grouper" certainly does not qualify as hoity-toity foodie cuisine. Yes, they used to have dancing "Down the Street" (and it was a sight to behold--see right) but now they have cut back--no alcohol or dinner--and despite obscene profits have reduced their offerings to a comparatively spartan lunch from 11 to 2 M-F and Sunday. Even the baroness of lunch in the Gump is putting the excesses of the collateralized dessert options behind her and, truth be told, never took a dime of city development funds or other TARP-Like handouts like some of the spots in the favored downtown Alley district.

No wonder the girlie/man on the left has to cover his face and; what's with the guy afraid of nets?



And what do these 'occupy"...'people'....want? The signs they sport are almost unintelligible. They appear to have been written by schizophrenics on half-doses of their medications. "Occupy Everything?" Really? Do they really want that? Why, if that is the case they are welcome to occupy my septic tank or my rolling "Folmar.*"

The lipstick on her stomach says: "Ban Meat from Down the Street!"

Or do they just want to draw attention to themselves for some reason? Here is a fine example of someone who may fit that description. She reminds me of Joni Mitchell on LSD during Woodstock. The drug must help her think she would attract "looks" and that she can be heard when her mouth is closed. Listen to what, exactly? Hey, I'm talking (but not listening or looking) at you?

So, they want to Occupy Gail's Down the Street? Have at it. Good luck getting in during 11 a.m. and 2 p.m. Monday through Friday and forget about it on Sunday. The "movement" will just have to be satisfied with singing Kumbaya in the parking lot at night and hope none of the former bar time "regulars" swerve in by force of habit for a nightcap. Bump. Bump. Whoops! Was that curb there the last time I was here?

Just don't let them make me eat what they eat.

*A "Folmar" is Gump-Speak for the rolling garbage containers provided by the city when Emory Folmar was mayor.