“Good Day! I am the nephew of Dr. Gen. Col. Robin Mkborumi Bmaka Grrrr, the infamous Bean Factotum and former Royal Food Evaluator of Krakatoa. I am contacting you for your consideration in liberating a Treasure of Delicious, Memorable Good Things To Eat. Have you ever eaten the rare and delicious food of Nigeria? It is very rare and difficult to find, but I am prepared to part with 20 percent of the proceeds to be gained from your help and assistance in liberating this great African cuisine for the people of Louisville.”
If you’re not convinced that the world is about to turn, consider this: Bill Clinton is a vegan now. Long a fanatical devotee of McDonald’s burgers bought by the sack, our ex-prez is now on a plant-based diet. Continue reading Meat-free dining goes mainstream→
Turn the hands of your food-memory clock, if you will, back to 1987 or 1988. It was a very good time for Louisville restaurants – and when hasn’t it been?
The upscale bistro movement that had started with the Bristol, Formally Myra’s, Jack Fry’s and others a decade earlier had matured and blossomed. Our chop suey Chinese-American tradition had evolved into spicy regional eateries serving fare from Hunan and Sichuan. Fine French dining was here in the form of Le Relais. Authentic New Mexico cooking had arrived with Chico’s; our first sushi with Sachicoma, our first Korean hidden in the back room at Lee’s, and our first Thai at Thai Siam.
“Born in a log cabin.” In not-so-distant American history, this status – a symbol of humble, honest origins, was just about mandatory for those who wanted to run for president.
Baked scrod at John E’sIt’s likely that seven of America’s chief executives, and possibly as many as 10 drew their first breath in a rustic log abode. Which ones? Cabin-born prexies certainly included Abraham Lincoln, whose birthplace is now a National Historical Park in Hodgenville, Ky. Zachary Taylor, born in a log cabin in Virginia, grew up in Louisville in decidedly more elegant quarters at Locust Grove.
Others, some subject to debate among historians, included Andrew Jackson, Millard Fillmore, Franklin Pierce, James Buchanan, Andrew Johnson, Ulysses S. Grant, James Garfield and Chester A. Arthur.
And then there’s John E’s Restaurant & Lounge. It never ran for president, although if it ever did, there are surely hungry folks in Louisville who would consider voting for it. But it was indisputably born in a log cabin, and what’s more, no mere rude shack of felled trees but a log structure of significant historic worth, now designated a Kentucky Landmark.
It was the home of the Hikes family, descendants of the pioneer Louisville settler George Hikes, who received land grants in Kentucky for his Revolutionary War service. The existing four-room, two-story structure that still forms the core of John E’s was built around 1851 on the site of an earlier house. Hikes Lane and the Hikes Point neighborhood still keep the family’s historic name alive.
The building has been a popular restaurant for half a century – originally Bill Boland’s, and since the 1980s John E’s. The space has been expanded substantially, including four dining rooms, a bar and a fully enclosed Patio Room, but I still like best the small dining room that reveals parts of the original cabin. Much of the walls are covered with large, antique-print wallpaper, but the original logs still show through in places, as does the beamed ceiling.
John E’s dinner menu offers standard American fare, with emphasis on steakhouse delights. It begins at $9 (for beef or veggie burgers) and $19 (for several items including chicken breast dishes, Boston scrod, or a full pound of pork chops). Most main course are under $30, with a hefty two-pound T-bone priced at $38 if you eat it all by yourself, or $45 divided for two.
My brother and sister were in town, so we got together with them, a cousin and an aunt for a big country-style dinner, and I can’t say we had a thing we didn’t enjoy. We started with a shared app, a big plate of green chili won tons ($7), which were a lot like the Bristol’s. I won’t speculate who had the idea first, but John E’s presents a good version.
A burger ($9) did its job well, juicy and hot, dressed with a slice of melted cheddar (50 cents extra) and the traditional lettuce, tomato and mayo. The rib eye pepper steak ($28) was a splendid piece of this flavorful cut, cooked medium-rare as ordered. It was crusted in so much coarsely cracked black pepper that it almost seemed hot, but it was tender and the flavors worked well. A stuffed twice-baked potato ($2) was first-rate, and there were no complaints about a standard, fresh house salad.
With glasses of California Apothic red ($8) and Gaston Argentine Malbec ($7.50), our share of dinner came to $64.66 for two, plus a $14 tip for friendly, attentive service.
Finally it’s picnic weather again — the shank end of the season. Who doesn’t love a picnic? Only the most hardened cynics and eye-rolling hipsters could ever admit to such with a straight face. Get out your favorite cookbook; you know, the one with the gingham-checked cover. You’ll need loads of eggs to devil, lots of sliced meats, cheeses and breads; perhaps a roasted chicken or two. A bottle of wine, some fruit, and don’t skimp on the cookies. Ready to go, yes? Whoops, nearly forgot the blanket. Continue reading Movable Feasts→
I would rather not over-share about this, and I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t want me to do that either; so let’s just say that a few years ago, I was invited to participate in a routine diagnostic exam that’s widely recommended for Baby Boomers as we slouch through middle age. I might add that this procedure involves a form of mild anesthesia so soft and fuzzy and warmly relaxing that I’m pretty sure it would bring down SWAT teams of DEA agents in black helicopters if it wasn’t administered by medical professionals.
For a while there, the restaurant space at the back corner of Chenoweth Square became something of a joke among local foodies. The spacious facility had enjoyed restaurant success over 20 years or so as the culinary home of the original Rick’s, Indigo and later Rick’s Ferrari Grille. Continue reading Majid’s looks as if it’s here to stay→
With the possible exception of Come Back Inn, Please & Thank You (800 E. Market St.) may be the only restaurant in the region named after Things Our Mother Told Us. The 78-RPM black recordings that form an integral part of its shtick take us back to our parents’ era, too. But the hip atmosphere of this corner storefront eatery and coffee shop is all 21st century NuLu. Continue reading Panini, please. Thank you.→
Order a sandwich and it comes with a foundational legend, the old story about John Montagu, the Fourth Earl of Sandwich, who invented the portable meal that bears his name so he wouldn’t have to stop playing cards to take his nourishment.
Lil Cheezers’ Caprese Grilled Cheese. PHOTO: M A Buckner
The grilled cheese sandwich, sadly, carries no such memorable tale. While the combination of cheese and bread surely goes back to the Neolithic age, as best I can determine through extensive cookbook and Internet research, the American comfort-food standby evolved in its current form only within the past century. This filling yet low-cost Depression-era dinner was made possible by the happy pairing of two 20th century inventions: sliced bread and processed cheese. Cheese meets bread, hits skillet sizzling with melted butter or margarine, and a few moments later, lunch is on. A can of tomato soup can turn it into a banquet.
To view the grilled cheese sandwich living up to its full potential, however, one must consult the masters of the art at Lil Cheezers, a popular local food truck that added a bricks-and-mortar shop last month in tight but inviting quarters in the midst of the Baxter Avenue nightlife zone. (The Lil Cheezers food truck continues in operation, and a second is coming soon, proprietor and grilled-cheese chef Matt Davis says. The trucks serve limited selections from the sit-down eatery’s menu.)
The venue, a tiny shotgun house-turned-storefront, is clean and bright, the walls boldly painted the colors of Campbell’s tomato soup and Velveeta. I am not kidding about this.
The menu is made of finer stuff than those iconic ingredients, however. It’s all grilled cheese, all of the time, plus munchies, sides and desserts. There are 10 variations on the grilled cheese theme, all available on sourdough or wheatberry bread, ranging in complexity and price from $6 (for the “Plain Jane,” made with your choice of a dozen cheeses) to $8 (for many of the options). All come with a side and a dish of house-made curry ketchup, a thick, spicy red condiment that should make Heinz hang its head in shame.
Admirable creativity went into the bill of fare: The “Fancy Pants” ($8) musters Brie, Granny Smith apple slices, grilled onions and walnuts. The “Buenos Huevos” (“good eggs,” $7) lays down spicy Mexican chorizo sausage and a fried egg on your grilled cheese. Don’t bogart the “Legalize Marinara” ($7), a cross between grilled cheese and a pizza, loaded with pepperoni, mozzarella, sliced tomatoes and garlic. And so it goes, with something for just about everyone, including vegans, who’ll delight in a dairy-free model grilled with vegan cheese. Fountain drinks, Rooibee Red Tea and a selection of bottled beers are available.
Munchies for those late-night moments (or any other time) are mostly $3 for a small portion, $5 for large, include a half-dozen goodies such as sizzling, crisp fries or sweet-potato fries, fried mozzarella strips or house-made potato chips, served with curry ketchup or, for $2 more, a schmear of PBR beer cheese. There’s soup — tomato, of course, with basil added, or a soup of the day, $3 for a cup or $4 for a bowl. Add a dessert designed for the grill — S’mores, an Elvis-style PB and banana or a PB&J (all $4), or a Jamie’s 14K cupcake, keeping alive the spirit of the previous occupant, and you’ve got about everything anybody could ask for.
I was happy with the Caprese ($8), grilled mozzarella with fresh basil, rather pale tomato slices and a touch of sweet balsamic reduction, on my choice of sourdough with house-made chips. The sandwich was great. I would have liked the chips a little crunchier, but I admit I ate them all.
The Highlands Philly ($8) was a splendid sandwich, too, a good ration of thin-sliced roast beef, sautéed peppers and onions and molten cheddar — hold the Cheese Whiz — on wheatberry bread with fries. Soup of the day ($3 small), cucumber-cilantro, was chilled, green and surprisingly spicy.
With iced water, our comfort-food lunch came to $19.08, and the high-tech Square payment system built into an iPhone lets you tap to choose a 15, 20 or 25 percent tip.
“Casapela.” Utter this word slowly, with Mediterranean rhythm, assonant and mellifluous, “Cah-sa-PEH-laaaah,” and it sounds as Italian as Tony Bennett crooning “Arrivederci, Roma.” But plug it into Google Translate or ask a friendly Italian what “Casapela” means, exactly, and you come up with nothing. Zero, zip, even, well, niente. Continue reading DiFabio’s offers fine, family-style Italian→
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