I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: I actually like Beyond Meat, Impossible, and the rest of the growing cadre of plant-based, meat-like alternative proteins. I think they’re better for the environment than meat, better for me, certainly better for the animals sacrificed in the meat industry. And I think they taste good.
This shouldn’t be a controversial statement, and yet, like so much else in modern life, it’s possible that someone out there reading this is feeling a burning rage at the very idea of praising meat made from vegetables. That’s right. Even meat vs. not-meat can be a political wedge issue in these troubled times.
The whole world of dining out, it sometimes seems, is divided into two kinds of people: Those who love dining alfresco, and those who don’t like it one bit.
Kathmandu: Even the sound of the name of Nepal’s historic capital, gateway to the Himalayas, evokes feelings of romance and exotic travel. The bustling, noisy city of 850,000 lies in a green valley at 4,500 feet above sea level. It’s not even as high as Denver, but on a clear day you can see Mount Everest from historic Durbar Square in the old city, home to seven Unesco World Heritage sites.
Want to go? It will take you maybe 26 hours including layover time to get to Kathmandu from here. The price? Don’t even ask.
But here’s an easy workaround: Head to Kathmandu Kitchen on Old Bardstown Road in Buechel, and you can enjoy a fantastic Nepalese meal without all the hassle of international travel.
A couple of weeks ago I devoted this space to a conversation about some of our town’s finest places to go for a special-occasion $200-plus blowout. I heard plenty of favorable comment from folks who filed the information for the next birthday or anniversary feast.
A few of you, though, appropriately cautioned me about this slide into territory usually occupied by oligarchs, day traders, and hedge-fund managers.
The $200 dinner for two is no longer a treat that we must travel to larger cities to enjoy.
Indeed, if you wish to treat your partner or friend to a fancy evening out in Louisville – particularly with drinks, dessert, and an appetizer or two – you’d better make sure that your credit-card limit can handle a three-figure toll.
Your steak is too well-done for your liking. It’s dry, tough, and leathery. Your partner’s tenderloin is too rare for their liking. It’s dripping bloody juices that make them go “ick.” You find dirt in your dish. Mold in your dish. A hair, or several!
Grossed out by now? You haven’t heard anything yet. You find a dead cockroach in your potatoes. Or even a live parasite squirming in your swordfish.
And how about that time you told the server about your kid’s allergy and got a dish that triggered it anyway?
It was a chilly, cloudy Saturday morning in January. The temperature was hovering around 37º. Even so, the sidewalk tables in front of Frankfort Avenue’s beloved Blue Dog Bakery & Café were filling up just the same, hungry travelers clad in parkas and mittens, eagerly awaiting a steaming coffee drink and pastry treat.
Inside Blue Dog’s warm, cozy space was jammed with more eager supplicants. Counter service would begin any moment, and they were ready.
“It’s always like this,” Blue Dog’s new owner Libbie Ackerman Loeser said with a smile.
I felt pretty sad last month when I read El Mundo’s social-media post announcing management’s decision to “put the original, quirky, tiny Frankfort Avenue location on pause until the Spring.”
The good news was that El Mundo’s newer, larger Highlands shop, which opened during the Covid-19 pandemic, remains open. It has expanded service to seven days a week, and recently launched an impressive Saturday, Sunday, and Monday brunch.
Menus: Can’t live with ‘em. Can’t live without ‘em! You step into a restaurant, take your seat, and pick up the menu. How does this make you feel? Joy at anticipating a tasty meal, or fear that something is about to make you crabby?
Why must menus disappoint us in so many ways, from look and feel to organization and design to the way they communicate? The menu has just one job, and sadly, it doesn’t always get that job done.
Well, here we are. It’s 2024, another year has gone into the history books. We’re at that annual point when we talk about New Year’s resolutions (and how quickly we break them).
This is also when we fondly remember that jolly old Roman deity Janus. whose name gave us “January” because he bears a face on both sides of his head: One to look forward and one to look back.
