Category Archives: Frankfort Ave., Clifton, Crescent Hill

Shrimp and Weisenberger Mill grits at Mesh

Our critic can’t hate on Mesh in spite of himself

First, let’s get one thing perfectly clear: No matter how much I think I might dislike a place, I bring an open mind to the dinner table.

Sometimes this isn’t easy. Even if a restaurateur has responded to a review with veiled death threats or even mere front-yard TPing, it’s the critic’s job to swallow that bile and return someday, prepared to deal out judgment that’s honest and fair.

It’s a good thing, too, because I had a load of baggage in tow — much of it not particularly fair, but hey — when our friends Kathy and Rick joined Mary and me for a recent dinner at Mesh.
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TropiCuba's Lechon Asado

We celebrate Cuba at TropiCuba

After 50 years of nutty national policy toward Cuba, our president, giving the finger to a recalcitrant congress, has shifted foreign-policy gears, reaching out to our island neighbor just south of Florida, demonstrating to our joy that Obama’s just another name for nothing left to lose.
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Donuts and coffee at Clifton Donuts

Lolly, Lolly, Lolly, get your donuts here

What warms an icy winter morning better than a hot, freshly made donut? Are you with me? Then you’ll want to Schoolhouse Rock right over to LowBrow across from Kroger, where a charming little donut shop run by a friendly Cambodian immigrant family recently opened in the tiny building that recently housed Chicago Gyros.

If you can’t wait to get them home or scarf them in your car, you can settle right down at either of two cozy tables. Go. You’ll be glad.

Clifton Donuts
2317 Brownsboro Road
749-6806

Bentuhua Teahouse's Ga-li Fan

We eat 2,000 grains of rice at charming Bentuhua Teahouse

“I like rice,” the late, wacky stand-up comic Mitch Hedberg famously said. “Rice is great if you’re hungry and want 2,000 of something.”

This is funny because it’s a presumably true statement about a reality that we’ve probably never considered before, and yanks a laugh out of our bellies before we suddenly come up short with the obvious follow-up: “So what?”
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Griddled cheese at Craft House

Craft House: “You’re not really here for the food, are you, Bob?”

Remember the old joke about a hunter’s repeated efforts to bag a giant grizzly bear? It’s a little too long and risque to quote here in full, but it ends with the bear lovingly whispering, “You’re not really here for the hunting, are you, Bob?”

Craft House in Crescent Hill is kind of like that too. Continue reading

Bistro 1860's Colorado Rack of Lamb

Hate winter? Warm your soul and tummy at Bistro 1860

I try hard to be open-minded. I really do.

Consider the evidence: I’m a U of L grad, but I’m willing to root for UK or even IU, assuming that they aren’t playing the home team. I’m male yet feminist, straight yet affirming. And even as a card-carrying liberal, I voted for at least one Republican on last month’s ballot. Hey, it’s something!

But all this tolerance stops when we talk about the seasons.
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The fish taco at El Mundo

El Mundo: Still a favorite after 20 years

It’s hard to believe that it has been more than 20 years since we moved back to Louisville after a sojourn in New York City. This town has changed a lot in the past two decades, and certainly the Frankfort Avenue restaurant row has evolved almost beyond recognition.

“You’ll like Frankfort Avenue,” a friend told us as we packed the moving van to head west from Gotham. “There’s a great new place called the Irish Rover!” And she was right. Along with Deitrich’s, which had been a pioneer in the neighborhood, and more recent arrivals Porcini and a local coffee shop that preceded Heine Bros’ Crescent Hill branch, the avenue was looking pretty exciting.

And then in 1995 came El Mundo, and the “new” Frankfort Avenue was on its way. Continue reading

Oyster hushpuppies at Craft House.

Craft House packing them in on Frankfort

Folks in our Crescent Hill neighborhood have been watching with considerable anticipation as a crew associated with Louisville’s Bluegrass Brewing Co. sped through a major “gut rehab” of the old Darkstar tavern, converting what had been frankly a rather grim saloon into an airy, inviting temple to all things local beer and food.
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Eggs in a hole and cheese grits at Eggs Over Frankfort.

Eggs Over Frankfort Rings Diner-Style Breakfast Bell

Frankfort Avenue – or just plain “The Avenue,” as its neighborhood business association likes to call it – has come a mighty long way in the generation since the late, lamented Deitrich’s started serving creative cuisine in an upscale environment in the old Crescent Theater, a place that at the time had seen considerably better days.
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