When we survey the delectable array of Mexican, Tex-Mex and other South-of-the-Border eateries that grace our town these days, it’s easy to forget that we haven’t always been so richly blessed.
I’m sure I’m not the only Baby Boomer who can still remember when “Mexican” in Louisville meant “chili,” with a canned tamale dropped in the bowl upon request. Continue reading
It went down like this:
“Hey, wanna go eat at The Hub?”
“Sure! I’ve been looking forward to that.”
A few minutes later we were whizzing across the new Abraham Lincoln Bridge, and Mary started getting skeptical. “Are you lost? That place is right next to the Comfy Cow. I’m pretty sure that’s Indiana ahead.” Continue reading
Everything about The Table seemed so cool! Its lovely adaptive reuse of a sturdy 19th century warehouse building, comfortable and cozy, making fine use of exposed brick, rough-hewn wooden tables, attractive art and bright flowers. The lunch menu that isn’t overly long, but it was full of intriguing goodies that makes thoughtful use of fresh, locally produced ingredients. And the room crowded with happy people, filling the space with laughter and smiles. Continue reading
Mary claims that I never met a pizza I didn’t like, but this is a gross exaggeration. Sure, I like pizza, a lot, and I generally won’t say no to a slice. Why should I?
But liking the stuff doesn’t mean that I give up my critical discernment, dammit! Show me a Corporate Pie™ and I’ll shrug and go “Meh.” I know pizza, and I know what I like. And I’m here today to tell you that I like the pizza at The Post, an appropriately hip, casual pizzeria in a shotgun house that was once home to once housed Lone Wolf Post #5636 of the Veterans of Foreign Wars post in Louisville’s Germantown.
Our friend Ashley just came to town recently, from Alabama by way of 10 years in New York City. A savvy foodie with a love for ethnic eats and a proud adoptive Brooklynite, she came to Louisville expecting great regional fare, but worried that her new home town might be a culinary purgatory when it came to world cuisine.
Here’s the deal: I really, really want to go to Cuba, and I’d like to get over there before it turns back into Vegas South, which – so I’m told – is what it was more than a half-century ago, when my grandparents used to head over there just for fun.
In this food-loving city full of food-fascinated folks, there must be a thousand food bloggers, freelancers and journalists. My friend Dana is one, and she does it well. So I was truly honored when Dana asked if I’d help mentor her 12-year-old cousin, Amber, visiting from Michigan, who wants to be a food writer, too.
How could I say no? Continue reading
For months now, I’ve been watching the vacant little Clifton storefront where Sari Sari Filipino used to be with a joyous anticipation not unlike a kid waiting for Christmas. Or maybe Christmas with a touch of Cinco de Mayo thrown in.
After quite a few years writing a weekly column about food, I’ve learned a thing or two. For instance:
* When the going gets tough, the tough get going.
* That which does not kill us makes us strong.
* The deadline monster must be fed.
Warmed by the delights of four big bowls of steaming ramen at Rumplings in five day’s time, I asked my baby boomer pals on Facebook a simple question this week: When did you first encounter instant ramen? What did you think of it when you did?
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.
2317 Brownsboro Road
I can’t resist mentioning this briefly, since my mini-report on the HotBytes forum and Facebook on New Year’s Day blew up with “Likes” and comments, hinting that there’s public interest in this bizarre development: White Castle, at least for a while, now offers a veggie burger, of all things. They’re only 99 cents each, cheap, but like their meatful siblings, it takes a few to satisfy an appetite.