PART I
This fanned the flames of my food inspired rage today. Come on Cap Times! My favorite line from this review, I humbly reproduce for you:
"Now, this may be true pizza as it was crafted in Naples in 1830 but, in 2007 Wisconsin, I'll take a Glass Nickel Cheesasaurus any day."
CHEESASAURUS: A dinosaur from the paleolithic era thought to be extinct but found greasily floating on top of a lake in Wisconsin, 2007. Locals quickly slaughtered the beast and put it on their version of the pizza.
Now people, those of you who know me know I have a deep connection to the Glass Nickel. They are amazing people, and run a tight ship. I also know, however, that the average 16" Cheesasaurus has about a pound of cheese on it. A pound. What does a pound of cheese look like? Roughly like this!!! Keep that image in your mind the next time you sit down to stuff your face with a gooey, large cheese pizza, cap times reviewer.
But then again, I wouldn't take the word of anyone who thinks "the pan-Asian Firefly is among my favorite restaurants that serve Chinese food." May I be so bold as to suggest that what passes for Chinese food in this town would warrant execution in the capital- punishment-happy land of China.
My review of Cafe Porta Alba to coming soon...
PART II
When you go to a Chinese restaurant, and the menu has approximately 329 items on it, they provide you with a secret code to the left of each menu item, like 1a, 1b, 46d, 134x, etc. You can try to order spring rolls, but what you've really ordered is 6b. It works because who really wants to say, "I'll have the Stir-fried mussels, shrimp, bay scallops and calamari with snowpeas, mushrooms, napa cabbage, spicy garlic sauce and dried silky pork." Nobody.
Cafe Porta Alba's menu could fit inside the appetizer list of your typical Chinese place. It's small, and simple. To some people, (greedy, hungry people), the simple menu is a limitation. We live in a democracy god damnit! We need choices, a wide field of candidates to choose from! Well let's face it, America, when given a choice, you tend to make the wrong one. Cafe Porta Alba strips the menu down to the essentials--salad, pizza, desserts, drinks. No pasta, no french fries, no fried mushrooms or cheese curds. Your average American pizza restaurant generally fails because instead of making its pizza better, it just keeps adding things to the menu in hopes that you'll feel like eating a panini, or a plate of lasagna, or a gyro. Well I don't want a fucking gyro!!!
When I want pizza, I want it the way Cafe Porta Alba makes it--simple and fresh. Their tomato sauce actually tastes like fresh tomatoes, you know, those red round things that sit in pyramids at the grocery store. While some people would rather their tomato sauce taste like that jar of "pizza seasoning" that came with some spice rack your mother-in-law gave you, I prefer Cafe Porta Alba's balanced, slightly sweet and slightly acidic tomato sauce. Top that with a few slices of fresh mozzarella, and a dash of fresh basil, and you have a near perfect Pizza Margherita.
I'm sorry, what? A few slices of mozzarella? But with that small of an amount of cheese, how can I properly inundate my intestines with its nightly grease-bath? How can you call that pizza?
I'm guessing somewhere across the Atlantic, the world's tiniest violin is being played by a full-blooded Italian who wishes somebody would firebomb Pizza Hut for adding the tagline "Italian Bistro" to their signage.
Bottomline: Evacuate your mind of pizza preconceptions, novice, and follow the path to true enlightenment. Buddha was a fatty but it wasn't because he ate a lot of cheese.
Friday, August 3, 2007
Monday, July 23, 2007
Sardine= NO LIKEY!!!
This should be fun.
Pretty much everyone in this godforsaken town loves Sardine, and so with this review I openly invite upon myself the ire of Madison's finest food festishists. Bring it on.
Now, let me tell you why I NO LIKEY Sardine.
I went with my husband. We had seating issues. Now, I generally don't like to complain about seating because I know that most restaurants do sections and that you're seated according to which server's turn it is for a table--no biggie. We arrived at 5:45. We had reservations, since this was during Sardine's insane first couple of months open where you couldn't get a table if your fucking life depended on it. Normally I wouldn't subject myself to such hype-induced dining mayhem but what the fuck, everyone kept talking about how great the place was so I wanted to try it.
At 5:45, there was one other table seated in the whole dining room. It was a two top, two middle aged women with shrill, bird-like voices. Our host seated us at the table directly next to them. Now, in normal dine-in restaurants, tables enjoy a, I don't know, minimum of 8 inches between them. This is a generous estimate on my part. Well our table was exactly 4 inches away from the shrill bird ladies. Being asian, I decided not to ask to be moved--how bad could it be? I'm sure they just wanted to make sure that our waitress could eyeball her two tables from the deepest, darkest corners of the restaurant.
But, as I tried to talk to my husband about the menu, I realized that though we were sitting across from each other, and though the entire restaurant was empty save for the two fucking ladies next to us, I couldn't HEAR HIM. So with great regret I asked our host to move us to a different table.
What about the food??? We ordered the charcuterie plate for starters--bascially your standard charcuterie comprised of salted thin sliced meats, a large portion of duck liver pate, some crackers, dijon mustard and pickles. It was fine. For entrees, I ordered the pan-seared skatewing, while my husband got the stuffed pork loin. The entrees did not work.
I'll tell you why. After eating at Sardine I finally realized why everyone loves it so much--because everything, or at least my skatewing, was coated in a beyond generous amount of Wisconsin's favorite food group, butter. The skatewing itself was fried, crispy on the outside, tender on the inside, but I couldn't really figure out what it was supposed to taste like because all I could taste was butter. The side of broccoli rabe likewise had the living nutrients sucked out of it by a good old fashioned butter bath. At this point, I'm kind of frustrated, because my dinner is making me nauseous. Apparently they failed to account for those of use who don't have iron clad guts forged in the buttery fires of of the midwest. I mean, yes, the menu describes the fish as coming with a "lemon butter caper sauce". It never said swimming in a pool of its own buttery death. The fish never had a chance, let alone the handful of capers, thrown in like life preservers while we watched the ship go down.
Speaking of death, the stuffed pork loin was overcooked, tough, and dry. Enough said.
Our entrees, at $17 and $18 respectively, were miserably overpriced for the quality of the food. Plus as the restaurant filled up, it no longer mattered where we were sitting because Sardine's dining room is built like a high school gym. I could barely here my own thoughts, let alone what our server was saying.
Yeah, check please.
Pretty much everyone in this godforsaken town loves Sardine, and so with this review I openly invite upon myself the ire of Madison's finest food festishists. Bring it on.
Now, let me tell you why I NO LIKEY Sardine.
I went with my husband. We had seating issues. Now, I generally don't like to complain about seating because I know that most restaurants do sections and that you're seated according to which server's turn it is for a table--no biggie. We arrived at 5:45. We had reservations, since this was during Sardine's insane first couple of months open where you couldn't get a table if your fucking life depended on it. Normally I wouldn't subject myself to such hype-induced dining mayhem but what the fuck, everyone kept talking about how great the place was so I wanted to try it.
At 5:45, there was one other table seated in the whole dining room. It was a two top, two middle aged women with shrill, bird-like voices. Our host seated us at the table directly next to them. Now, in normal dine-in restaurants, tables enjoy a, I don't know, minimum of 8 inches between them. This is a generous estimate on my part. Well our table was exactly 4 inches away from the shrill bird ladies. Being asian, I decided not to ask to be moved--how bad could it be? I'm sure they just wanted to make sure that our waitress could eyeball her two tables from the deepest, darkest corners of the restaurant.
But, as I tried to talk to my husband about the menu, I realized that though we were sitting across from each other, and though the entire restaurant was empty save for the two fucking ladies next to us, I couldn't HEAR HIM. So with great regret I asked our host to move us to a different table.
What about the food??? We ordered the charcuterie plate for starters--bascially your standard charcuterie comprised of salted thin sliced meats, a large portion of duck liver pate, some crackers, dijon mustard and pickles. It was fine. For entrees, I ordered the pan-seared skatewing, while my husband got the stuffed pork loin. The entrees did not work.
I'll tell you why. After eating at Sardine I finally realized why everyone loves it so much--because everything, or at least my skatewing, was coated in a beyond generous amount of Wisconsin's favorite food group, butter. The skatewing itself was fried, crispy on the outside, tender on the inside, but I couldn't really figure out what it was supposed to taste like because all I could taste was butter. The side of broccoli rabe likewise had the living nutrients sucked out of it by a good old fashioned butter bath. At this point, I'm kind of frustrated, because my dinner is making me nauseous. Apparently they failed to account for those of use who don't have iron clad guts forged in the buttery fires of of the midwest. I mean, yes, the menu describes the fish as coming with a "lemon butter caper sauce". It never said swimming in a pool of its own buttery death. The fish never had a chance, let alone the handful of capers, thrown in like life preservers while we watched the ship go down.
Speaking of death, the stuffed pork loin was overcooked, tough, and dry. Enough said.
Our entrees, at $17 and $18 respectively, were miserably overpriced for the quality of the food. Plus as the restaurant filled up, it no longer mattered where we were sitting because Sardine's dining room is built like a high school gym. I could barely here my own thoughts, let alone what our server was saying.
Yeah, check please.
Thursday, July 12, 2007
Lunch at The Orpheum= NO LIKEY
Full disclosure: I do not like sandwiches. If necessary, I will eat them, but only with great regret in my soul. The sandwich has never seemed like a real meal to me, even the hot ones that they try to fancy up with liney grill marks and molten layers of cheese. It's still bread, with something in between it. You eat it with your hands, and usually something goes awry with the mayo-derivative sauce slathered on the inside. It's messy, and to me, unsatisfying. Again, I don't expect everyone to dislike sandwiches. Oh who the hell am I kidding, why would anyone like sandwiches???
My point, however, is that the lunch menu at the Orpheum tends to reproduce what I consider to be the worst sins of midwest cuisine: lots of sandwiches that all sound really boring, requisite creamy pasta dishes, heavy, creamy soups, and salads that are neither here nor there. And inflated prices to boot.
While the lobster tail sandwich was probably the most inventive thing on the menu, it apparently came with some sort of creamy spread AND bacon, just to remind you that, no, this lobster ain't fresh, and yes, the midwest loves bacon. And all these other concerns aside, why would anyone put lobster on a sandwich??? Ok it comes with fries, but still tips the scales for lunch entrees at 11.95. Now, some of you out there are saying, but it's lobster! Lobster! The treasure of the sea. And I'm going to respond by saying that a lobster tail is about the size of an ambitious shrimp. Two mouthfuls at best. A total loss, I'm assuming, because based on the description there was no way I would ever order this.
My friends both ordered the walleye sandwich. It came encrusted with a tasteless layer of...come to think of it I can't remember if it was cornmeal, or almonds, or breadcrumbs...whatever it was it tasted like cardboard. Speaking of cardboard, at least some people know how to make it taste good! Luckily, the fish inside was also tasteless, making it entirely necessary to coat the whole thing with a thick tartar sauce. The fries on the side only made the sandwich more depressing. A regular bargain at 7.95, if you don't mind spending a few extra dollars half an hour later to get something better to eat.
Since I don't like sandwiches, or heavy creamy overpriced pastas, I decided to go with a cup of the tomato bisque and a house salad. The soup was actually pretty good, very, very rich, but tasty like blended tomatoes with butter. Oh what, that doesn't sound good to you? Well throw in some heavy cream, onions, and cheese and there you have it! Tomato Bisque! Like the old midwestern favorite, Campbell's tomato soup with grilled cheese, except all mixed together into a hot, red smoothie.
The salad of mixed greens came tossed with a lemon vinaigrette and chevre. It sounded like a good salad in theory, but it wasn't. The vinaigrette was pretty tasteless, and the couple clumps of chevre had seen better days. What can I say, I swallowed some oily greens, pushed the chevre around on my plate, and ended my lunch feeling a lot of resentment towards that fucking salad. And hunger.
The cup o' soup was 2.95, the salad 5.95. NO LIKEY!!!!
My point, however, is that the lunch menu at the Orpheum tends to reproduce what I consider to be the worst sins of midwest cuisine: lots of sandwiches that all sound really boring, requisite creamy pasta dishes, heavy, creamy soups, and salads that are neither here nor there. And inflated prices to boot.
While the lobster tail sandwich was probably the most inventive thing on the menu, it apparently came with some sort of creamy spread AND bacon, just to remind you that, no, this lobster ain't fresh, and yes, the midwest loves bacon. And all these other concerns aside, why would anyone put lobster on a sandwich??? Ok it comes with fries, but still tips the scales for lunch entrees at 11.95. Now, some of you out there are saying, but it's lobster! Lobster! The treasure of the sea. And I'm going to respond by saying that a lobster tail is about the size of an ambitious shrimp. Two mouthfuls at best. A total loss, I'm assuming, because based on the description there was no way I would ever order this.
My friends both ordered the walleye sandwich. It came encrusted with a tasteless layer of...come to think of it I can't remember if it was cornmeal, or almonds, or breadcrumbs...whatever it was it tasted like cardboard. Speaking of cardboard, at least some people know how to make it taste good! Luckily, the fish inside was also tasteless, making it entirely necessary to coat the whole thing with a thick tartar sauce. The fries on the side only made the sandwich more depressing. A regular bargain at 7.95, if you don't mind spending a few extra dollars half an hour later to get something better to eat.
Since I don't like sandwiches, or heavy creamy overpriced pastas, I decided to go with a cup of the tomato bisque and a house salad. The soup was actually pretty good, very, very rich, but tasty like blended tomatoes with butter. Oh what, that doesn't sound good to you? Well throw in some heavy cream, onions, and cheese and there you have it! Tomato Bisque! Like the old midwestern favorite, Campbell's tomato soup with grilled cheese, except all mixed together into a hot, red smoothie.
The salad of mixed greens came tossed with a lemon vinaigrette and chevre. It sounded like a good salad in theory, but it wasn't. The vinaigrette was pretty tasteless, and the couple clumps of chevre had seen better days. What can I say, I swallowed some oily greens, pushed the chevre around on my plate, and ended my lunch feeling a lot of resentment towards that fucking salad. And hunger.
The cup o' soup was 2.95, the salad 5.95. NO LIKEY!!!!
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
Wah Kee= LIKEY.
Just don't order anything that sounds familiar--you know like "kung pao blah blah blah" or "general tsao's yada yada", because guess what, you'll get what you asked for--slimy, salty, fatty chinese food in astronomical portions designed specifically for the hungry white man. Consider yourself warned.
Luckily, the rest of the menu is huge, and if you can pry your little eyes away from the moo shoo and grow a pair, you might consider trying some of the rice plates, which are a bargain at $6-$8, plus they come with soup. My favorite is the Chinese broccoli with beef. If you've never had Chinese broccoli, or if you are deeply afraid of vegetables that have their stems attached, then you should quit being a pussy and order this anyways because the beef is tender and delicious, and the Chinese broccoli is fresh and crisp. Make sure you order it with hot sauce, which the owner makes in house- one of the best I've ever had.
Other favorites: The Cantonese style fried noodles, while a bit greasy, taste like the noodle version of crack--thin egg noodles tossed with chinese bbq pork, shrimp, napa cabbage, egg, and scallions in a slightly sweet ginger soy sauce. Perfect for when you're starving, can't make up your mind on what you want to eat, and only want to spend $8.
Because vegetables are good for you, and because your intestines will thank you for it later, make sure to take advantage of Wah Kee's mysterious "sauteed chinese vegetable" plate, which is usually yau choi, chinese broccoli, or spinach depending on what they've got in the kitchen.
If you don't just love vegetables, but are actually vegetarian, then I highly suggest stir fried tofu with eggplant. The tofu is firm and silky, not the fried kind, and the eggplant is soft, perfectly absorbing the garlicky flavor of the sauce. Again, this one tastes good with the hot sauce if you're into that. If you don't like spicy food, you are weak.
Remember: Avoid the usual suspects. Try the dishes that sound "different" or "exotic" or "whatever". Portions are huge, so stop eating once you start feeling full you fat fuck and take the rest home for later! This place is pretty casual, so remember to where pants. Do not, however, under any circumstances where socks with your sandals.
The bill: For dinner, 2 entrees plus a vegetable side, the total came to something like $21 + tax/tip. Expect plenty of leftovers.
Luckily, the rest of the menu is huge, and if you can pry your little eyes away from the moo shoo and grow a pair, you might consider trying some of the rice plates, which are a bargain at $6-$8, plus they come with soup. My favorite is the Chinese broccoli with beef. If you've never had Chinese broccoli, or if you are deeply afraid of vegetables that have their stems attached, then you should quit being a pussy and order this anyways because the beef is tender and delicious, and the Chinese broccoli is fresh and crisp. Make sure you order it with hot sauce, which the owner makes in house- one of the best I've ever had.
Other favorites: The Cantonese style fried noodles, while a bit greasy, taste like the noodle version of crack--thin egg noodles tossed with chinese bbq pork, shrimp, napa cabbage, egg, and scallions in a slightly sweet ginger soy sauce. Perfect for when you're starving, can't make up your mind on what you want to eat, and only want to spend $8.
Because vegetables are good for you, and because your intestines will thank you for it later, make sure to take advantage of Wah Kee's mysterious "sauteed chinese vegetable" plate, which is usually yau choi, chinese broccoli, or spinach depending on what they've got in the kitchen.
If you don't just love vegetables, but are actually vegetarian, then I highly suggest stir fried tofu with eggplant. The tofu is firm and silky, not the fried kind, and the eggplant is soft, perfectly absorbing the garlicky flavor of the sauce. Again, this one tastes good with the hot sauce if you're into that. If you don't like spicy food, you are weak.
Remember: Avoid the usual suspects. Try the dishes that sound "different" or "exotic" or "whatever". Portions are huge, so stop eating once you start feeling full you fat fuck and take the rest home for later! This place is pretty casual, so remember to where pants. Do not, however, under any circumstances where socks with your sandals.
The bill: For dinner, 2 entrees plus a vegetable side, the total came to something like $21 + tax/tip. Expect plenty of leftovers.
Friday, July 6, 2007
I like to eat
Food reviews suck. If I have to read the word "cloying" in connection with any review of a restaurant or meal ever again, so help me god. As someone who thinks constantly about eating, when I read a restaurant review, I want it to tell me if I am going to get good food at a price that makes sense for the quality of what I'm eating. Instead, I get excessive, bloated formulaic reviews that use way too many ridiculous adjectives to indicate that something tastes sweet, salty, or spicy. Foodies beware, I am blunt, ruthless, and don't give a shit how much you know about food. I have no qualifications other than I eat. Alot.
Bon. Appetit. Assholes!
Bon. Appetit. Assholes!
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