It's easy to miss, but fans of bona fide Cuban fare will not want to lose an opportunity to revel in El Bohio's simple yet tasty delights. And, unlike American-to-Cuban commerce on the island nation, it's legal here and doesn't require travel or a pesky passport. What more can you ask for?
Except for a more prominent sign indicating its unassuming presence (look on the other side of the road as you're approaching The Terrace theatre shopping center on Maybank Highway), El Bohio is lacking for absolutely nothing. The food is modestly priced (entrees range from $4.50 to $10.50) and packed with the plantain and black-bean flavors of Cuba, service is pleasant (though sometimes slow), and the humble, beachy mood of the place works in spot-on tandem with the entirely happy El Bohio experience.
Considering that it was the brainchild of a first generation Cuban-American, raised on the kitchen creations of her Cuban parents in Cuban-cultured Miami, this should really come as no surprise. Owner Vanessa Luis Harris, a Johnson and Wales University grad, and her husband Alex state her story and their mission on the back of the single-page, laminated menu: "We chose (the name) El Bohio (pronounced El Bo-ee-oo) because it translates to a simple, humble, peasant home with sand floors and thatched roofing. I want to serve you foods that (are) eaten in these traditional Cuban homes."
Except for its sand-free floors, El Bohio accomplishes all this and more, right down to the semi-circle thatched roofs that decorate the diminutive space and the cigar boxes on every table where they do creative double-time as condiment and salt and pepper shaker containers. An antique oak bar is the fanciest thing about the place, but rather than "jumping out" it seems right at home and makes for a perfect perch to dig into one of the restaurant's fine sandwiches - which happen to be prepared with dough that's purchased from a Cuban bakery in Miami and baked on the premises - and a cold brew. It's so incredibly Cuban and deliciously homey, it's easy to believe that even Fidel himself would give El Bohio his stamp of approval.
I most certainly do, and though I like everything about the place, I'm especially fond of the endearing little Papas Rellenes ($3.50) which sounds infinitely less sexy in English, a language which ineptly deems them "Beef Stuffed Potato Balls". Like luck, they come in three's, but are so fabulously palatable I was yearning for easily five times that amount. An appetizer of the highest order, the potato balls are formed with real (no powdered variety here), fluffy mashed potatoes with a spicy, ground beef and gravy center. They're enveloped with a crunchy, breadcrumb coating, deep fried and served with El Bohio's ubiquitous dipping sauce which has a glorious, garlicky kick rounded out with oil and a splash of vinegar and a hit of lime.
The sandwiches are some of the best I've sampled in Charleston - bar none. That's due in large part to the superb bread and the superb fillings, the heart and soul of any exceptional sandwich. Pork and turkey fillings are real (again!) not the processed and pressed versions that are rampant in even the least suspected places, and roasted, with love, in-house. The Cuban sandwich ($6.75) and Medio Dia ("Mid-day", $6.75) were edible testimonies to Cuban goodness, both punctuated with salty pickles and pungent mustard and more of that that fabulous dipping sauce which is appropriately called the "house mojo".
Sandwiches come with a bevy of side choices including black beans, sweet or savory plantains, rice, a tomato and onion salad and, of course, French fries. Scratch the latter alternative, which you can get anywhere, and opt for the satisfying, firm-yet-yielding goodness of the black beans, splashed with a lime and sauteed onion background or bite into a crunchy, starchy savory plantain chip.
If a tastier, more pleasant prelude or chaser to a viewing of an artsy, Indie-type film across the street at The Terrace exists, I don't know of it. But, then, El Bohio provides plenty of reasons to stop by any old time the mood for good food and a good time strikes.
El Bohio
1977 Maybank Highway, James Island
571-4343
Mon.-Fri., 11 a.m.-9 p.m.
Sat., noon- 9 p.m.
Monday, September 17, 2007
Friday, September 14, 2007
A Different Kind of Cake
A single crepe is a thing of beauty. But, take 20 silky crepes, layered with whisper-thin cushions of flavored pastry cream and whipped cream, and you arrive at something extra special. Jack and Rachel Byrne of Charleston Crepe Company have done just that. Their 9" wide towering confections come in three flavors; vanilla, chocolate and mocha cream. Each yummy, hand-crafted cake serves 10-12 persons at $50 a pop, or an easy $5 or less per yummy, fat slice .
Each and every concoction maintains a perfect balance of smooth, flavored pastry cream and fluffy whipped cream - both lovingly folded into pure decadence of edible delight. The cakes come topped with a thin, crunchy bite of caramelized sugar for a mild "brulee effect" for idyllic texture contrast. The flavor is incredibly delicate - reminiscent of a cream puff - and the lightness of the cakes is exceptional.
Potential true show-stoppers at a wedding, tea, or for a crowd pleasing dessert just about any time or place, Charleston Crepe Company's crepe cakes can be ordered by calling Rachel or Jack at (843) 573-3458. Visit http://www.charlestoncrepecompany.com/ for more information.
Each and every concoction maintains a perfect balance of smooth, flavored pastry cream and fluffy whipped cream - both lovingly folded into pure decadence of edible delight. The cakes come topped with a thin, crunchy bite of caramelized sugar for a mild "brulee effect" for idyllic texture contrast. The flavor is incredibly delicate - reminiscent of a cream puff - and the lightness of the cakes is exceptional.
Potential true show-stoppers at a wedding, tea, or for a crowd pleasing dessert just about any time or place, Charleston Crepe Company's crepe cakes can be ordered by calling Rachel or Jack at (843) 573-3458. Visit http://www.charlestoncrepecompany.com/ for more information.
Saturday, September 1, 2007
Fiery Pig with Lip-Smacking Pluck
Already one year old,Fiery Ron's Home Team BBQ is without question the freshest and most memorable addition to Charleston's surprisingly scant barbecue scene. This rough and tumble shack of a place, born of a space that was formerly a circa 1940's gas station, was fabulously re-crafted by Chastain Construction.
It resembles a country shack walled with ruffled metal that seems to whisper the impossibly tasty, time-worn traditions of southern barbecue. With a young and varied crowd and a heavy propensity towards live blues and bluegrass performed by groups with colorful names like Creech Holler and Southern Bitch, Ron's feels more city slicker than country bumpkin.
You won't likely find this type of citified bad boy up in Pee Dee country, but the ribs and the barbecue are the real deal. They're slow smoked in a state-of-the-art slow smoker that the staff seems to revere as the maternal heart and soul of the joint. She's even got a name - Bertha.
Chef/owner Aaron Siegel courageously hung up his downtown toque at significantly fancier Blossom restaurant to make a pass at the barbecue pit and succeed he has! The lingering scent of smoke and pork weaves through your nostrils just as you're getting ready to bite into the succulent ribs, deftly rubbed with an exotic blend of spices that deliver multiple after-shocks of smoke, heat and layered flavor long after they're savored. Snappy, vinegar and mustard based house-made sauces and a slew of succulent side selections (do NOT miss the collards) round out the mammoth platters ($6.95-$21.95, each served with 2 sides). Lighter bites can be found in soups, wraps and salads.
Food is served cafeteria style through a service line that usually moves at a clip, but service can feel a bit disjointed and bumpy when busy, especially during the very popular weekday lunch hour. Your yummy piggy feast can be eaten in house or picked up "to go".
Fiery Ron's Home Team BBQ
1205 Ashley River Road
West Ashley
(843) 225-7427/(843) 225-2278
www.hometeambbq.com
Mon.-Sat., 11 a.m.-2 a.m. (Food served until 9 p.m.)
Sun., 11:30 a.m.-2 a.m. (Food served until 9 p.m.)
It resembles a country shack walled with ruffled metal that seems to whisper the impossibly tasty, time-worn traditions of southern barbecue. With a young and varied crowd and a heavy propensity towards live blues and bluegrass performed by groups with colorful names like Creech Holler and Southern Bitch, Ron's feels more city slicker than country bumpkin.
You won't likely find this type of citified bad boy up in Pee Dee country, but the ribs and the barbecue are the real deal. They're slow smoked in a state-of-the-art slow smoker that the staff seems to revere as the maternal heart and soul of the joint. She's even got a name - Bertha.
Chef/owner Aaron Siegel courageously hung up his downtown toque at significantly fancier Blossom restaurant to make a pass at the barbecue pit and succeed he has! The lingering scent of smoke and pork weaves through your nostrils just as you're getting ready to bite into the succulent ribs, deftly rubbed with an exotic blend of spices that deliver multiple after-shocks of smoke, heat and layered flavor long after they're savored. Snappy, vinegar and mustard based house-made sauces and a slew of succulent side selections (do NOT miss the collards) round out the mammoth platters ($6.95-$21.95, each served with 2 sides). Lighter bites can be found in soups, wraps and salads.
Food is served cafeteria style through a service line that usually moves at a clip, but service can feel a bit disjointed and bumpy when busy, especially during the very popular weekday lunch hour. Your yummy piggy feast can be eaten in house or picked up "to go".
Fiery Ron's Home Team BBQ
1205 Ashley River Road
West Ashley
(843) 225-7427/(843) 225-2278
www.hometeambbq.com
Mon.-Sat., 11 a.m.-2 a.m. (Food served until 9 p.m.)
Sun., 11:30 a.m.-2 a.m. (Food served until 9 p.m.)
Friday, August 17, 2007
Uni's Noodle's All Wet
Show me someone who says they don't like noodles (and that includes the increasingly persistent and persnickety carb-phobe populous) and I'll show you either a liar or a human anomaly.
Noodles, by nearly any one's measure, are the consummate comfort food. Toss 'em in a bowl with a yummy broth and you've got a steaming meal of simple satisfaction. Practically anybody can make them well (remember good old Ramen from college days?) and the noodle cultures of the world (Vietnamese, Thai, Japanese,Italian, etc.) are justifiably renowned for doing them superbly well.
Sadly, Uni Bar Sake and Noodle House resides in neither camp. This Avondale hopeful, and recent reincarnation of the much loved Marie Laveau's, is uniformly poor, with a couple of very dimly lit bright spots in both service and ambiance. The highlights were definitely not in the noodles. In both instances (bean thread and lo mein), the noodles were a messy melange of over-cooked mush. They effortlessly concaved, even with the gentlest prods from our chopsticks, into the boring abyss of floury, flavorless sauces in the Green Curry ($7.50) and Thai Peanut ($8.50) "House Noodles" preparations.
This is sad for a few reasons. The first has already been named - cooking noodles (not necessarily sauces) is simple. Most can be prepped ahead, bathed for a flash in boiling, salted water and served to perfection. Secondly, a noodle house with a sake bar in a fun, funky neighborhood is a great concept and one that Charleston sorely needs. And, lastly, being a noodle lover, I wanted it to be great, and I'm sure I'm not the only one.
What Uni lacks in crisp culinary execution, it more than makes up for in concept. The previously campy/country, hen-pecked Laveau's has been pared down to a streamlined Asian combination of merry, Koi-drenched murals and sleek, black and white lacquered chairs. Votive candles flirted with the approaching dusk as an unusually eclectic mix of dinners hummed with hushed conversation while sipping their "saketini's" from Uni's myriad of sake and sake-blend choices. The kitchen is open, but intruded neither with profuse fumes, smoke or noise and the general mood was appropriately Bohemian for this decidedly Bohemian nook of Avondale . All of this should appeal broadly to Charleston's growing brood of the hip and the happening.
Our server ambled along affably like a somewhat clumsy bear armed with fairly limited knowledge of the menu and deadpan, honest statements like "I like the fish balls. They're good."
Not entirely sold by his description, we opted for spring rolls ($6) and vegetable tempura ($6) to start - which proved to be the edible highlights of the evening. They both arrived at warp speed that made my head virtually spin, and were served too cold and very hot, respectively. The tempura cloak on the zucchini spears and snowball-sized cauliflower chunks was thick and cloying with the round, fatty mouth-feel of a mildly tired vat of frying oil. The bland trio of dipping sauces did little to cut through the flat flavor, but the crunchy texture had real appeal. The spring rolls were forgettable. The sweet heat of green curry was completely absent in the aforementioned noodle fiasco, but I took some comfort in the fresh and abundant bites of broccoli served with it.
Uni has oodles of noodles potential - and more. For the sake of noodle lovers everywhere, let's hope they jump on the clean-up-the-act-in-the-kitchen bandwagon soon.
Uni Bar
9 Magnolia Road
Charleston, SC
(843) 766-7837
Mon.-Sat., 11:30 a.m.-1 a.m. (Bar open until 2)
Sun., 4 p.m.-1 a.m. (Bar open until 2)
Noodles, by nearly any one's measure, are the consummate comfort food. Toss 'em in a bowl with a yummy broth and you've got a steaming meal of simple satisfaction. Practically anybody can make them well (remember good old Ramen from college days?) and the noodle cultures of the world (Vietnamese, Thai, Japanese,Italian, etc.) are justifiably renowned for doing them superbly well.
Sadly, Uni Bar Sake and Noodle House resides in neither camp. This Avondale hopeful, and recent reincarnation of the much loved Marie Laveau's, is uniformly poor, with a couple of very dimly lit bright spots in both service and ambiance. The highlights were definitely not in the noodles. In both instances (bean thread and lo mein), the noodles were a messy melange of over-cooked mush. They effortlessly concaved, even with the gentlest prods from our chopsticks, into the boring abyss of floury, flavorless sauces in the Green Curry ($7.50) and Thai Peanut ($8.50) "House Noodles" preparations.
This is sad for a few reasons. The first has already been named - cooking noodles (not necessarily sauces) is simple. Most can be prepped ahead, bathed for a flash in boiling, salted water and served to perfection. Secondly, a noodle house with a sake bar in a fun, funky neighborhood is a great concept and one that Charleston sorely needs. And, lastly, being a noodle lover, I wanted it to be great, and I'm sure I'm not the only one.
What Uni lacks in crisp culinary execution, it more than makes up for in concept. The previously campy/country, hen-pecked Laveau's has been pared down to a streamlined Asian combination of merry, Koi-drenched murals and sleek, black and white lacquered chairs. Votive candles flirted with the approaching dusk as an unusually eclectic mix of dinners hummed with hushed conversation while sipping their "saketini's" from Uni's myriad of sake and sake-blend choices. The kitchen is open, but intruded neither with profuse fumes, smoke or noise and the general mood was appropriately Bohemian for this decidedly Bohemian nook of Avondale . All of this should appeal broadly to Charleston's growing brood of the hip and the happening.
Our server ambled along affably like a somewhat clumsy bear armed with fairly limited knowledge of the menu and deadpan, honest statements like "I like the fish balls. They're good."
Not entirely sold by his description, we opted for spring rolls ($6) and vegetable tempura ($6) to start - which proved to be the edible highlights of the evening. They both arrived at warp speed that made my head virtually spin, and were served too cold and very hot, respectively. The tempura cloak on the zucchini spears and snowball-sized cauliflower chunks was thick and cloying with the round, fatty mouth-feel of a mildly tired vat of frying oil. The bland trio of dipping sauces did little to cut through the flat flavor, but the crunchy texture had real appeal. The spring rolls were forgettable. The sweet heat of green curry was completely absent in the aforementioned noodle fiasco, but I took some comfort in the fresh and abundant bites of broccoli served with it.
Uni has oodles of noodles potential - and more. For the sake of noodle lovers everywhere, let's hope they jump on the clean-up-the-act-in-the-kitchen bandwagon soon.
Uni Bar
9 Magnolia Road
Charleston, SC
(843) 766-7837
Mon.-Sat., 11:30 a.m.-1 a.m. (Bar open until 2)
Sun., 4 p.m.-1 a.m. (Bar open until 2)
Friday, August 3, 2007
Do That To Me One More Time
Uno Mas (meaning "one more" in Spanish) is the latest tempting card in local entrepreneur Sal Parco's mini-dynasty restaurant hand, which also successfully holds The Mustard Seed(s), Boulevard Diner, Village Bakery, Long Point Grill and Sette.
It's a snappy take on Mexican fare and puts CIA grad and executive chef (formerly of The Boathouse and Mustard Seed) Jason Ulak's personal penchant for all things Mexican and spicy to mostly palatable good use. Ulak spent some time working with Yucatan Peninsula native Dudley Neito at his Chicago restaurant ( Xel-Ha) to hone Yucatan-inspired cuisine before creating Uno Mas' menu, which includes exotic, whimsical backdrops like verdant, slow- cooked banana leaves and assorted flavors of guacamole that are "hand crushed" to order.
The spacious restaurant is peppered with old-world Mexican detail in curvaceous wrought-iron and antiqued wooden double doors and is more colorful and festive than a pinata. It bursts with nearly every exaggerated hue of the rainbow, yet comes together with subdued, South- of-the- border panache. Diners have the opportunity to view the lively kitchen through large, glass windows. It was abuzz with a blur of activity on the packed-house evening I visited. The service staff was efficient and friendly, though still a bit green around the edges, particularly when it came to limited knowledge about certain dishes and occasional awkward timing.
Ulak presents an ambitious and fully-loaded menu, rife with tortas, "re-grooved" tacos from Chile Seared Tuna ($12) to Orange Marinated Pork ($7), and a multitude of house specialties. True excellence is apparent in smoky grilled meats and some sauces, particularly the hot/sweet house made salsa, which magically re-appeared as soon as our little white bowl became empty, the full-flavored Carne Asada "Tampiquena" ($16) and the Adobe Marinated Pork Tenderloin ($15) served with a fat triangle of grilled fresh pineapple. A playful sense of detail was apparent in all the presentations, but there were hints of needed improvement in some preparations, such as the thin, acidic tomatillo sauce served with the pork and the mole, which harbored an unappealing burnt chocolate aftertaste.
These two mild sauce offenses were readily excused with just one bite of a bubbling bath of brazen, ooey- gooey goodness of Mexican cheeses in the the Queso Fundido ($6). A platter of sinful decadence, it was laced with peppery-sweet strands of roasted poblano peppers and sweet, caramelized onions and served with a packet of oven-warm tortillas for scooping. This alone will bring me back, time and time again. Then, too, there is the inherent knowledge that whatever restaurant card Parco plays, it will be backed with his proven knack for carving restaurant niches in untapped markets and staffing them with energetic, talented food pros, like Ulak and Co. "One More" will almost certainly prove to be a long-term winner.
Uno Mas
880 Allbritton Boulevard, Mount Pleasant
(843) 856-4868
Lunch/Dinner/To-Go
Lunch, Mon.-Sat., 11 a.m.- 2:30 p.m.
Dinner, Mon.-Sat., 5 - 10 p.m.
It's a snappy take on Mexican fare and puts CIA grad and executive chef (formerly of The Boathouse and Mustard Seed) Jason Ulak's personal penchant for all things Mexican and spicy to mostly palatable good use. Ulak spent some time working with Yucatan Peninsula native Dudley Neito at his Chicago restaurant ( Xel-Ha) to hone Yucatan-inspired cuisine before creating Uno Mas' menu, which includes exotic, whimsical backdrops like verdant, slow- cooked banana leaves and assorted flavors of guacamole that are "hand crushed" to order.
The spacious restaurant is peppered with old-world Mexican detail in curvaceous wrought-iron and antiqued wooden double doors and is more colorful and festive than a pinata. It bursts with nearly every exaggerated hue of the rainbow, yet comes together with subdued, South- of-the- border panache. Diners have the opportunity to view the lively kitchen through large, glass windows. It was abuzz with a blur of activity on the packed-house evening I visited. The service staff was efficient and friendly, though still a bit green around the edges, particularly when it came to limited knowledge about certain dishes and occasional awkward timing.
Ulak presents an ambitious and fully-loaded menu, rife with tortas, "re-grooved" tacos from Chile Seared Tuna ($12) to Orange Marinated Pork ($7), and a multitude of house specialties. True excellence is apparent in smoky grilled meats and some sauces, particularly the hot/sweet house made salsa, which magically re-appeared as soon as our little white bowl became empty, the full-flavored Carne Asada "Tampiquena" ($16) and the Adobe Marinated Pork Tenderloin ($15) served with a fat triangle of grilled fresh pineapple. A playful sense of detail was apparent in all the presentations, but there were hints of needed improvement in some preparations, such as the thin, acidic tomatillo sauce served with the pork and the mole, which harbored an unappealing burnt chocolate aftertaste.
These two mild sauce offenses were readily excused with just one bite of a bubbling bath of brazen, ooey- gooey goodness of Mexican cheeses in the the Queso Fundido ($6). A platter of sinful decadence, it was laced with peppery-sweet strands of roasted poblano peppers and sweet, caramelized onions and served with a packet of oven-warm tortillas for scooping. This alone will bring me back, time and time again. Then, too, there is the inherent knowledge that whatever restaurant card Parco plays, it will be backed with his proven knack for carving restaurant niches in untapped markets and staffing them with energetic, talented food pros, like Ulak and Co. "One More" will almost certainly prove to be a long-term winner.
Uno Mas
880 Allbritton Boulevard, Mount Pleasant
(843) 856-4868
Lunch/Dinner/To-Go
Lunch, Mon.-Sat., 11 a.m.- 2:30 p.m.
Dinner, Mon.-Sat., 5 - 10 p.m.
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
Tips on Side-Stepping Tourist Traps
Nobody wants to eat bad food for which they're paying good money. That's especially true when they've already gone to the trouble and expense of traveling to an unfamiliar destination. Despite the plethora of information available online, in books and in the media, it's still tricky culling through the choices, ranging from ordinary to out-of-this world restaurant experiences, whether you crave a memorable hoagie or an elegant, delicious dinner. That's because everyone (especially those that are failing to attract a regular local customer base) wants your business, and they'll jump through all kinds of hoops (some more honestly than others) to get it. This is true pretty much everywhere, but in a tourist-driven economy such as Charleston's, which greets nearly half a million tourists every year, it's a striking reality.
Here are a few things to look out for and some advice on where to look:
1) Be Wary of Excessive, Seemingly Everywhere Advertising
I'm all for advertising and truly respect its crucial role in educating and informing consumers and marketing goods and services. I sold it successfully for years largely because I believe in its viability as a source of information and revenue. But, unlike editorial from reliable sources, it has an inherent bias. Nobody is going to come right out and tell you their product is bad. Thus, most advertising states or implies that their product and service is good and/or something you need or want, and hopefully give you credible reasons why this is so.
But, in the case of a restaurant, excessive, persistent and multi-media advertising really gives me reason to pause and think. Unless a restaurant is new or has something newsworthy to communicate (such as a new chef, menu or location) why do they need to clobber you over the head with repeated advertisements about why they're so good or #1 by some unquoted or dubious source?
No matter where I am, I'm leery of restaurants that advertise heavily in multiple venues, particularly my personal mother of red flags - billboards on highways leading from the airport into downtown. Afterall, in this case, it's unlikely that most restaurants would spend money on a roadway sign to remind locals that drive by it every morning how good they are so the would-be diner develops a sudden craving to eat dinner there that night. They wouldn't need to if they were all that popular with local diners. Instead, they're likely trying to catch fresh tourist bait for their next clientele meal.
Most restaurants (with the exception of national chains) can't afford a hefty brand or image budget that requires a constant and persistent stream of advertising in order to create a desired brand image like Nike (for example) can. In my experience, restaurants that relentlessly pummel with advertising are searching for tourists dollars because they don't have much local business. That can only mean one thing. You do the math.
Generally speaking, while paid advertising has a very real place at appropriate times and through multiple venues, the best advertising in the restaurant business is word-of- mouth. Good restaurants get the repeat business, again and again, whether its from locals or tourists. Bad ones do not.
2) Do Your Homework in Advance and Ask Lots of Questions Upon Arrival
We live in an information-laden society and there are credible sources and some less credible sources. Make it a point to find the former. Read restaurant reviews written by unbiased professionals with bona fide credentials. Question friends with like-minded culinary tastes that have visited the city you are visiting about what restaurants they liked and why - be specific. Buy a travel guide book or find and research one online. Just make sure that its revenue is at least partially subscription and editorial-driven, not exlusively advertising-driven. The latter can potentially invite an ugly little war between church and state that could leave you holding an emotionally and financially expensive bad meal bag.
3. Ask Locals
If you see someone walking a dog and/or a map-free person that seems to know where they're going, these are potent clues that such folk are probably from around town. Ask them where they like to eat and why. Again, be very specific. Tell them what you're looking for in food (ethnicity, etc), ambience (romantic, mellow, hip, or whatever), service (impromptu, sleepy, frank, professional, sleek, etc.) and price range (go with specifics like $10-$12 entrees, for example, not just "reasonable" OR "the sky is the limit") , and ask where you can find it. Listen for sincerity in tone and content to be sure they're telling you the truth and not just promoting their best bud's joint.
Pick your your sources carefully. If you typically dress to the nines, have a particular palate and an obsession with all things neat and clean, asking a belly-scratching slob where he likes to eat lunch probably won't yield productive results. Also, be wary of tourist guides working locales heavily trafficked by tourists. Most have the best intentions in mind, but like people in general, not all do.
3) Follow Your Nose and Your Eyes
Restaurants cooking bad food smells bad. There is one near a sports facility that I visit nearly daily that consistently emits a sickening aroma of stale grease. This is an indication that something is rotten in the state of Denmark, no matter what state you're in. Same goes for a restaurant that doesn't smell or look hygenic. If they're cutting corners and staff on keeping things tidy and clean, then goodness knows what's happening (or not happening) in the kitchen. If you look into a restaurant and it is full or nearly full (depending on the hour) of happy, smiling people eating food that looks good, that's a good sign. Never, ever be afraid to walk out of a restaurant that displeases you before you've even ordered.
4) Dare to Stray Off the Beaten Path
In many cities, suburbs and areas away from the heart of downtown are home to some of the best dining gems. They'll almost always be less expensive than downtown eateries and may be equally as good, if not better. Same goes here - ask, ask, ask - following the tips provided above, of course.
Here are a few things to look out for and some advice on where to look:
1) Be Wary of Excessive, Seemingly Everywhere Advertising
I'm all for advertising and truly respect its crucial role in educating and informing consumers and marketing goods and services. I sold it successfully for years largely because I believe in its viability as a source of information and revenue. But, unlike editorial from reliable sources, it has an inherent bias. Nobody is going to come right out and tell you their product is bad. Thus, most advertising states or implies that their product and service is good and/or something you need or want, and hopefully give you credible reasons why this is so.
But, in the case of a restaurant, excessive, persistent and multi-media advertising really gives me reason to pause and think. Unless a restaurant is new or has something newsworthy to communicate (such as a new chef, menu or location) why do they need to clobber you over the head with repeated advertisements about why they're so good or #1 by some unquoted or dubious source?
No matter where I am, I'm leery of restaurants that advertise heavily in multiple venues, particularly my personal mother of red flags - billboards on highways leading from the airport into downtown. Afterall, in this case, it's unlikely that most restaurants would spend money on a roadway sign to remind locals that drive by it every morning how good they are so the would-be diner develops a sudden craving to eat dinner there that night. They wouldn't need to if they were all that popular with local diners. Instead, they're likely trying to catch fresh tourist bait for their next clientele meal.
Most restaurants (with the exception of national chains) can't afford a hefty brand or image budget that requires a constant and persistent stream of advertising in order to create a desired brand image like Nike (for example) can. In my experience, restaurants that relentlessly pummel with advertising are searching for tourists dollars because they don't have much local business. That can only mean one thing. You do the math.
Generally speaking, while paid advertising has a very real place at appropriate times and through multiple venues, the best advertising in the restaurant business is word-of- mouth. Good restaurants get the repeat business, again and again, whether its from locals or tourists. Bad ones do not.
2) Do Your Homework in Advance and Ask Lots of Questions Upon Arrival
We live in an information-laden society and there are credible sources and some less credible sources. Make it a point to find the former. Read restaurant reviews written by unbiased professionals with bona fide credentials. Question friends with like-minded culinary tastes that have visited the city you are visiting about what restaurants they liked and why - be specific. Buy a travel guide book or find and research one online. Just make sure that its revenue is at least partially subscription and editorial-driven, not exlusively advertising-driven. The latter can potentially invite an ugly little war between church and state that could leave you holding an emotionally and financially expensive bad meal bag.
3. Ask Locals
If you see someone walking a dog and/or a map-free person that seems to know where they're going, these are potent clues that such folk are probably from around town. Ask them where they like to eat and why. Again, be very specific. Tell them what you're looking for in food (ethnicity, etc), ambience (romantic, mellow, hip, or whatever), service (impromptu, sleepy, frank, professional, sleek, etc.) and price range (go with specifics like $10-$12 entrees, for example, not just "reasonable" OR "the sky is the limit") , and ask where you can find it. Listen for sincerity in tone and content to be sure they're telling you the truth and not just promoting their best bud's joint.
Pick your your sources carefully. If you typically dress to the nines, have a particular palate and an obsession with all things neat and clean, asking a belly-scratching slob where he likes to eat lunch probably won't yield productive results. Also, be wary of tourist guides working locales heavily trafficked by tourists. Most have the best intentions in mind, but like people in general, not all do.
3) Follow Your Nose and Your Eyes
Restaurants cooking bad food smells bad. There is one near a sports facility that I visit nearly daily that consistently emits a sickening aroma of stale grease. This is an indication that something is rotten in the state of Denmark, no matter what state you're in. Same goes for a restaurant that doesn't smell or look hygenic. If they're cutting corners and staff on keeping things tidy and clean, then goodness knows what's happening (or not happening) in the kitchen. If you look into a restaurant and it is full or nearly full (depending on the hour) of happy, smiling people eating food that looks good, that's a good sign. Never, ever be afraid to walk out of a restaurant that displeases you before you've even ordered.
4) Dare to Stray Off the Beaten Path
In many cities, suburbs and areas away from the heart of downtown are home to some of the best dining gems. They'll almost always be less expensive than downtown eateries and may be equally as good, if not better. Same goes here - ask, ask, ask - following the tips provided above, of course.
Thursday, July 19, 2007
Fat Hen Something to Cluck About
Johns Island residents now have something else to be truly happy about. Super talent chef Fred Neuville recently flew "Rue's" coop to land here and set up his own establishment, deliciously named Fat Hen.
Because I have childhood-related fascination with chickens (under the right circumstances, I even do a pretty good imitation of one laying an egg) and because I love the name of the place and Neuville's food, I broke tradition and tossed my usual must-be-at-least three-months-old mandate in order to review a new establishment. So, let's consider this more of a report than a review, since Fat Hen's only been flying just under two weeks.
The news is good. Very good. Fat Hen is operating seamlessly. I've never seen a restaurant running so well on all fronts so early in the game.The service has professional pluck a' plenty (Neuville recruited some of Rue's best) and the food, which Neuville describes as "Lowcountry French", has a personality of its own. The menu and the decor recall Rue but in a manner that's infinitely more country warm and cozy than the cooled, Parisian brasserie sophistication chez Rue. It occupies the space that was Johns Island Cafe, conveniently situated a meager 10-15 minutes from the more populous environs of Seabrook, Kiawah, James Island and downtown.
The new look is smart and sturdy, peppered with chick-themed bibelots, a few stray painted chicken tracks here and there and oodles of comfortable tables and a spacious bar area. The intention here, according to the chef, is to impart the rounded, feminine and maternal comfort of a big, fat hen looking after her chicks. It's totally accomplished with the homespun fare, the down-home look and the nurturing nature of the effervescent staff. This Fat Hen is one good Mom, the kind that makes the saddest, loneliest and hungriest chick cheer up in a hurry.
The food is good enough to make you strut like a well-fed rooster, but the humble prices (entrees, $9.95 - $20.95) won't leave you crowing in pain. The delicate blush of Lowcountry brine trickled into every bite of silky oysters, beefed up with chunks of earthy ham and toothsome pearls of wild mushrooms - all perched above a pool of a rich and creamy sauce. The sauce was prepared with eggs purchased from nearby local farmer Celeste Albers, situated just miles away. The chilled corn bisque (special) practically squeaked with freshness of candy sweet corn purchased at the Montessori School just down the road. The commitment to buying local is real here, not just talked about, which is just as it should be on an island that yields the bounty of local produce.
This restaurant may be all about chickens, but its duck soars. The exquisite BBQ Roasted Duck appetizer (shards of roasted duck are lovingly tossed with a deep purple pomegranate sauce and served over pepper-spiked grits) is absolutely not to be missed. The same can be said of the Seared Duck Confit and its salty slivers of duck cooked long and low in duck fat, seared and served with butter beans that give new meaning to the word heavenly.
Already packing a full-house, Fat Hen is well beyond scratching and pecking her way to resounding restaurant success. She's quickly nestled adeptly over its nest.
Fat Hen
3140 Maybank Highway, Johns Island
(843) 559-9090
Because I have childhood-related fascination with chickens (under the right circumstances, I even do a pretty good imitation of one laying an egg) and because I love the name of the place and Neuville's food, I broke tradition and tossed my usual must-be-at-least three-months-old mandate in order to review a new establishment. So, let's consider this more of a report than a review, since Fat Hen's only been flying just under two weeks.
The news is good. Very good. Fat Hen is operating seamlessly. I've never seen a restaurant running so well on all fronts so early in the game.The service has professional pluck a' plenty (Neuville recruited some of Rue's best) and the food, which Neuville describes as "Lowcountry French", has a personality of its own. The menu and the decor recall Rue but in a manner that's infinitely more country warm and cozy than the cooled, Parisian brasserie sophistication chez Rue. It occupies the space that was Johns Island Cafe, conveniently situated a meager 10-15 minutes from the more populous environs of Seabrook, Kiawah, James Island and downtown.
The new look is smart and sturdy, peppered with chick-themed bibelots, a few stray painted chicken tracks here and there and oodles of comfortable tables and a spacious bar area. The intention here, according to the chef, is to impart the rounded, feminine and maternal comfort of a big, fat hen looking after her chicks. It's totally accomplished with the homespun fare, the down-home look and the nurturing nature of the effervescent staff. This Fat Hen is one good Mom, the kind that makes the saddest, loneliest and hungriest chick cheer up in a hurry.
The food is good enough to make you strut like a well-fed rooster, but the humble prices (entrees, $9.95 - $20.95) won't leave you crowing in pain. The delicate blush of Lowcountry brine trickled into every bite of silky oysters, beefed up with chunks of earthy ham and toothsome pearls of wild mushrooms - all perched above a pool of a rich and creamy sauce. The sauce was prepared with eggs purchased from nearby local farmer Celeste Albers, situated just miles away. The chilled corn bisque (special) practically squeaked with freshness of candy sweet corn purchased at the Montessori School just down the road. The commitment to buying local is real here, not just talked about, which is just as it should be on an island that yields the bounty of local produce.
This restaurant may be all about chickens, but its duck soars. The exquisite BBQ Roasted Duck appetizer (shards of roasted duck are lovingly tossed with a deep purple pomegranate sauce and served over pepper-spiked grits) is absolutely not to be missed. The same can be said of the Seared Duck Confit and its salty slivers of duck cooked long and low in duck fat, seared and served with butter beans that give new meaning to the word heavenly.
Already packing a full-house, Fat Hen is well beyond scratching and pecking her way to resounding restaurant success. She's quickly nestled adeptly over its nest.
Fat Hen
3140 Maybank Highway, Johns Island
(843) 559-9090
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