‘Mac and Cheese’
Pittsburgh is quite a unique place. So unique, in fact, that when I arrived I was given a crash course in how to speak Pittsburghese. I’ll spare the details, aside from the fact that Pittsburgh has its own version of “y’all.” That word is “yinz” and people who speak in Pittsburghese are referred to as “Yinzers.” With that in mind, you can now rest easy knowing that the BBQ you are about to read about is a play on “yinz” and not some obscure Civil War battle. And now, onto the BBQ.
The town of St. Ignace in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula seems to exist solely to serve those people heading to Macinac Island. This makes it a bit of a tourist trap, with restaurant prices far exceeding those in a more distant proximity with Machinac Island. Nonetheless, we needed food and we found the Mackinac Grille. The place was set up like a big sports bar with a view of the lake and some outdoor seating that called our names despite the impending rain.
Slater’s 50/50 first jumped on my radar when they released the ‘Merica Burger back in July. This burger was composed of an entire bacon patty, loaded up with even more bacon. But Slater’s, only existed in Orange County and San Diego, thus only serving these burgers down there. The opportunity for a ‘Merica passed me by, but just a couple weeks ago Slater’s opened their first outpost in LA County. Sure, it’s probably just as far away from me as Orange County, seeing as it’s in Pasadena, but I didn’t want to miss out on the place and met up with some fellow burger lovers for lunch.
So far, Inglewood has treated me quite nicely, but after a couple days down there I turned to Google for food suggestions. It is probably my least favorite way of finding new restaurants, as the top results are typically the restaurants with the best SEO instead of the best food. Nonetheless, I needed help for lunch and this led me to Dulan’s Soul Food Kitchen, a stone’s throw from court and with promising reviews.
A couple of weeks ago, Squidink tossed out a list of the 9 Best Macaroni and Cheese Dishes in LA. Naturally, my mouth was watering profusely as I read through and saw the gooey, holy cheesus. And, while they all looked awesome, there was only one that I felt the need to eat immediately. This was Chef Marilyn’s Soul Food Express, which resides in that fascinating part of west LA on Pico and La Brea.
Here we have a long-awaited new guest blog from none other than @RGspiegel. Catch more of his writing here.
Disclosure I: David Marcus, one of the owners of Smoke Shack, is my second cousin.
Disclosure II: I’m starting a movement such that cousins are classified only as first or second cousins. How much better is that than trying to figure out your exact relationship to your dad’s first cousin’s son with somethingth-cousin-somethingths-removed? A lot.
Disclosure III: Smoke Shack was legitimately awesome.
Now that my and Unvegan’s journalistic integrity are squarely intact, I can begin the review of my glorious Saturday lunch at Smoke Shack, a BBQ restaurant that opened up about a month ago in Milwaukee’s third ward.
Two of the things I love most in this world are beer and my belly. No, I don’t have a beer belly…much, but when a gastropub in Koreatown called Beer Belly opened up, I figured I had to try it out. I was meeting a group of people, and arrived to find the place packed. And this was not a big place. Like about 8 tables and a few bar stools big, and all of them were loaded. Plus, it was first come, first served, so we got to hang around the tables like vultures surrounding a wounded gazelle. It was the tail end of happy hour, though, so I ordered a beer and hoped a table would clear out soon. Fast forward thirty minutes and we’re still waiting when a woman working the place asks if we’re waiting for a table. Uh, no, lady, we’re just standing here awkwardly for the hell of it. She then proceeded to ask us if we wanted to be on the list. This “list” was new to us, and apparently also new to her, as she told us she had just started it. Well, at least we wouldn’t have to stand awkwardly any longer.
To celebrate yet another Dine LA Restaurant Week, we found ourselves at Simon LA in the Sofitel Hotel in Beverly Hills. I’m not usually one for restaurant ambience unless that ambience is dingy and dirty, but I really appreciated the way that Simon LA was decorated. In our little booth, we were seated near the middle of the restaurant, yet felt like we were in our own little world because the booth was half-surrounded by some really cool woodsy decor. Not like backwoodsy, but modern and classy. I looked at both the Dine LA menu and the regular menu, then quickly came to conclusion: Dine LA was dead to me.
Not too long ago, a new bar/grill opened in Culver City called Rocco’s Tavern. If you are at all from my generation, the name Rocco evokes memories of one of the greatest Nicktoons ever: Rocko’s Modern Life. Okay, the name is spelled differently, which may explain why neither wallabies nor turtles were on the menu. Instead, the menu was chock-full of some typical bar food. With the Tigers game on the TVs surrounding the bar, I sat down, ordered a happy hour beer (2 for 1 from 3-7 everyday) and decided what to order.
We all cherish those moments in life where we have the privilege of basking in luxury and feeling like we are rich. Last night, I was extraordinarily lucky to eat with one of my best friends at Smith & Wollensky in Chicago and got to enjoy luxury without any of the drawbacks because, well, he has the hook up.
With seats outside overlooking the Chicago River and downtown skyline on a beautiful night, we were ready to indulge. Immediately after sitting down, our drink orders were taken (I ordered a Diet Coke because I prefer soda paired with food to alcohol), and we were brought a plate of warm, fresh bread. The bread was outstanding, seasoned with salt and garlic, and it took every ounce of our willpower to turn down a second round when we finished the plate. We were voraciously hungry and there for a feast but this would be a marathon, not a sprint. More bread now would come at the expense of stomach room for steak later, so we begrudgingly delayed gratification.