May 2006 Downtown
[Farmer's Market][1] The new location of the Saturday market was a good move and a boon to several downtown businesses. [Mirth][2] is packing them in for breakfast on Saturdays, and nearby coffeehouses report increased business on market day. The new market feels better: more 'stop & chat' areas, more vendors, more people, more music. Goat and lamb, peonies and irises, snow peas and asparagus, local honey, rhubarb juice and baby tatsoi caught my eye last Saturday. [Aimee's Coffeehouse][3] Give me your aimless, your freaky, your fragrant masses yearning to hang out. And an order of those biscuits with vegetarian gravy--the best in town.[Krause Dining][4] Krause Dining will be closing on Saturday, June 24th. Molly, Robert and the kids will spend July on the West Coast, and then return to re-open, at long last, the thirty-seat, [Rockhill][5]-designed dining room attached to their home on Delaware Street in East Lawrence. That's the ideal situation, anyway. Last year, the Krauses were forced to move from their home operation to their current location at 811 New Hampshire (former home to Bleujacket and Meat Market)--prompted by a rave review from the Kansas City Star, which caught the attention of Lawrence city officials and highlighted some gray areas in the zoning code. On July 1st, zoning officials will meet to consider revisions, and the Krauses are feeling good about the outcome. By Lawrence standards, Krause Dining is an expensive restaurant--coursed dinners, with wine, from $80 to $110 per person. Worth every penny and then some. A $50 a la carte experience is equally memorable. The Krauses deliver the whole package: food, wine, service, manner, setting, choreography, appointments, lighting, gestures--all those categories of details and variables, attended to beautifully. Krause Dining is the sincere expression of the hospitality of its owners, amplified by its staff, a place of delight and restoration, of excellent quality, and its location has nothing to do with its spirit. If things don't work out here for the Krauses, it's a portable show.You don't always need a reservation, though most regulars, including Governor Sebelius, know to book in advance. The menu on Friday, May 26th lists a stone crab salad with mango ketchup, avocado, red pepper and cress ($14); a torchon of foie gras in a rhubarb crust ($18); grilled marlin with peanut shiitake jasmine rice ($16/28); quail with honey and vanilla ($21); steak and a salad ([Kobe beef][6] with curried carrot puree and a frisee-mint-macadamia nut salad, $38); and hot chocolate souffle with chocolate sauce and chantilly cream ($8). The four course menu, drawn from the carte, costs $55, with course-paired wines for an additional $30. The six course menu ($70 food, $45 wine) is a generous expansion of the four course. If nothing else, before closing day, stop in for a taste at the bar and glimpse this carefully hidden jewel before, once again, it is spirited away.[The Sandbar][7] Under a pink moon, they break from a deep, breathless kiss. He nuzzles her ear and whispers: "Baby, you're the one for me. Let's get married at The Sandbar." Dave Johanning, manager of [The Sandbar][8], is waiting for that magic moment to happen. When it does, he's ready. On a Saturday or Sunday afternoon, a mere $250 buys the loving couple "[a] legal civil service at our simulated beach scene [1200 pounds of white sand] upstairs at The Sandbar; full length video of service on DVD; use of The Sandbar for your wedding reception; fun wedding snacks; wedding cake for 25 people; champagne toast." The wedding program is just two weeks in the running; so far, there's been interest in a vow renewal ceremony, and an anniversary or two. Would they consider other kinds of parties? Probably.Most days, around five in the afternoon, The Sandbar lays out snacks (popcorn, peanuts, cheese and crackers), and the place soon fills up with Chamber of Commerce types. As the Bahama Mamas flow, the crowd gets looser and louder and not necessarily younger. By midnight, parrotheads are dancing on the bar. This place is a serious funhouse, every time. Calm down, it's only ectoplasm If you've seen Leo Nightingale onstage, you know he's an unusual talent blessed in peculiar ways. The June 2006 issue of [The Lawrencian][9] features Leo's literary debut: advice from the stars and beyond--channeled via Casanova, extruded by Leo--to help you "get yours in bed" and show you how to "stick it to your boss the tarot way." Private consultations available. [1]: http://www.lawrence.com/events/search/?category=&q=farmers+market [2]: http://www.lawrence.com/places/mirth/ [3]: http://www.lawrence.com/places/aimees... [4]: http://www.lawrence.com/places/krause... [5]: http://www.rockhillandassociates.com/ [6]: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kobe_beef [7]: http://www.lawrence.com/places/the_sa... [8]: http://www.thesandbar.com/ [9]: http://www.lawrencian.com/index.aspx
Come In, Kind Spirits
Much of the recent flurry of restaurant activity downtown is occurring on or near Eighth Street. At Eighth and New Hampshire, the new [Pachamama's][1] is taking shape on one corner and, across the street, the low-keyed, high-spirited [Mirth][2] is settling into the space previously occupied by Cafe Nova. Half a block south of Eighth and New Hampshire, [Krause Dining][3]--where the Governor noshes on occasion--holds court. [Teller's][4], now in its twelfth year at Eighth and Mass and still one of the prettiest rooms in town, has made significant changes in both the front and the back of the house. And just north of Eighth on Mass, the irrepressible Su Ken, ([Wa][5], [Sushi Station][6]), is poised to open Cafe Beautiful in the space above [Vermont Street BBQ][7]. Up at Seventh and Mass, in the revitalized Eldridge Hotel, the window seats at [Ten][8] fill up early at lunchtime.Two-Headed Chef Discovered at Teller'sTo my knowledge, Teller's is the only upscale restaurant in town whose kitchen is run by co-executive chefs. It isn't a new idea, though a tricky one. But if the personalities involved get along well, the possibilities and capabilities of the kitchen can be greatly enhanced.Michael Beard and Jason Smith complement each other's skills and styles--and personalities. Whereas previous Teller's kitchens have frequently operated under a distinct "Dirty Dozen" staffing philosophy, Beard' and Smith's kitchen is calm, focused and professional. Both chefs are trained: Beard at Apicius in Florence, Italy, and Smith at Johnson County. Prior to the Teller's collaboration, Beard was the chef at The Polo Grill in Oklahoma City, Smith at Marisco's in Lawrence. Michael Beard's year and a half in Italy brings to the table a connection to the tastes and preparations of true Italian food. Jason Smith brings superior skills in production and technique--for the first time in a long while, Teller's dishes can be said to have been executed with finesse. And, increasingly, dishes incorporate locally produced, all-natural and organic ingredients. "We order our pork on Wednesday; they butcher on Friday," says Smith. The Fall menu introduced last month lists classic Osso Bucco (wine-braised veal shanks, $28), and Bauman's chicken roasted with olive oil, garlic, lemon and rosemary ($19); both main dishes accompanied by butternut squash risotto. Teller's pasta is handmade, in house, for lasagna and cannelloni, and for four types of ravioli (including lobster, $15-$24)."To understand Italian food, you need to understand seasonal products and preparations. For instance, Osso Bucco takes all day to cook. When else are you going to want a hot oven in your house other than in winter?" says Beard.Many of the new dishes are baked or roasted in the wood-fired ovens: a flatbread freshly baked with pear, gorgonzola and honey (a "Saporito", $7), is the breakout on the revised appetizer menu. Seafood cannelloni ($18) are wood-fired with ricotta and roasted tomatoes. Also on the appetizer menu: an imported olive oil flight (three one-ounce pours, $9), eloquently expounds on the range of flavors of good Italian olive oil; the Formaggi Misti (market price), does the same for cheese. A cup of Teller's Pappa al Pomodoro (literally, "tomato mush" with a sprinkling of Parmesan, $2.50), beloved in Tuscany as a physical and spiritual restorative, will ward off any chills. Sommelier and manager Thomas Goerdel recently moved from Texas to join the Teller's team. His Wednesday night wine tastings have become an underground hit.After seven or eight years, many restaurants "sag". True to form, Teller's slump hit about four years ago. More often than not, these sags are fatal--everyone's pooped, money's tight. But of the restaurants that prevail through the sag, a high percentage will endure. Due, in large part, to the work of general manager Matt Hyde, Teller's not only prevails, but, in the past two years, has taken several steps upwards. Ignoring dire predictions, Hyde sought solutions--and a business is only as good as its people. New talent has brought skill and spirit back to Teller's, a shine which seems to be steadily growing brighter.Get Real and LaughI can't recall the last time I went to a restaurant and wished the prices were higher. I wished that on my first visit to Mirth. A very good, twelve-ounce rib eye with Gorgonzola, or halibut with asparagus, for twelve dollars? "This place won't last long," I thought, which was too bad. With all the upscale dining going on in the vicinity, Mirth offers a nice counterpoint: a San Francisco neighborhood vibe; kind of Zen, kind of brainy, comfortable and casual. High ceilings, simple furniture and tile floors give Mirth's main room the air of a patio; a fountain tinkles beneath Nina Simone, a couple lazily eats waffles on the couch, and people at tables sip coffee and work on laptops, or read Ouspensky. "Townies, thirtysomethings, people into the arts:" says chef and Mirth partner Rick Seifert of his clientele, ": a lot of regulars already". Mirth opened softly in early September.Siefert has an affinity for soul food, primarily the soul foods of Italy and the Mediterranean: proscuitto, olives, feta, gorgonzola, sweet peppers, fennel and chickpeas turn up in soups (try the lentil and fennel), salads--the radish, apple and provolone in particular--sandwiches ($6), pizza ($7)omelets and breakfast burritos ($4). But you can also get, for breakfast (served until 4 pm), red beans and rice and a warm tortilla ($4)--now that's civilized! Or some very good biscuits ($1.50), and the deservedly popular waffles, Classic American or wholegrain, with fruit ($4.50). "We're busiest from 8.30 am to 1.30," Siefert smiles, halfway through another 14 hour day. The Mirth kitchen is open seven days a week, from 7 am to 9 pm (coffee until midnight). "The work is worth it," says Siefert; "this is my dream". Siefert's recipes are simple, bulletproof; his flavors are clear and balanced, his pantry limited to essentials. He runs a scratch kitchen, and Siefert's menu is tight--better to do a few things very well than many things poorly. At times, the food takes a while, but after three visits, it's always been worth the wait."Cost that food out. Check your menu prices," I advised Siefert at the end of our interview. Seifert assured me that prices had been adjusted. Hate to be a spoiler, but I'd like to see Mirth stick around. Its the kind of neighborhood restaurant Lawrence needs more of: tasty, well-made food, pleasant and comfortable surroundings, warm service, a distinct character and fair prices. Mirth is a labor of love, charming and obvious. [1]: http://www.lawrence.com/places/pachamamas_new_world_cuisine/ [2]: http://www.lawrence.com/places/mirth/ [3]: http://www.lawrence.com/places/krause... [4]: http://www.lawrence.com/places/tellers/ [5]: http://www.lawrence.com/places/wa/ [6]: http://www.lawrence.com/places/sushi_... [7]: http://www.lawrence.com/places/vermon... [8]: http://www.lawrence.com/places/ten/
Writing About Restaurants
A comment posted on [a recent Foodways][1] asked: "How can you review a restaurant that hasn't opened yet?" [Local Burger].Good question.The answer? I don't write reviews.A good reviewer acts as consumer advocate. The good restaurant reviewer has the knowledge and the experience to determine a fair and approximate value of a restaurant's product. Food + Service + Ambience = Product, for most restaurants.The ideal restaurant reviewer is both gastronome and scholar, with extensive knowledge of food properties and preparation methods, of culinary traditions, and of the history and processes of restauranting. Add a dash of eloquence and a quart of objectivity and you have a decent template for America's best modern food critics.It's impossible to efficiently discern, much less assess, the depth of a restaurant's menu, the skill of its kitchen, and the many nuances of service and atmosphere, on a single visit.Three visits is the bare minimum for a review, and then only for the most perspicacious of critics. It takes several visits before the average reviewer begins to develop a sense of a restaurant's mission, of the chef's motives, of the spirit of place.Lauren Chapin, food editor for the Kansas City Star, visited [Krause Dining][2] six times before she wrote the review. The Star picked up the checks.Rumor has it Ruth Reichl visited Ducasse in New York City eight times, at an average of $400 per visit. The Times paid the bills.That's one reason I don't write reviews.Here in our dank and homey lawrence.com headquarters, with its virile sod walls and pot-bellied stove, our meetings never get around to the topic nearest my heart: a restaurant budget. It's a pipe dream, I know--a dinky grass-roots publication, zine litter on the prairie winds. Most of the money for the next six months has already been spent on coal and paying down the Red Man tab at Round Corner. The last time I tiptoed around the restaurant budget, Phil [Cauthon, editor] looked me right in the eye and suggested a five-part review of candy bars. "It's what the people wanna know, man," he wheedled.I eat out on my own dime.Of even greater consequence to the would-be reviewer is the size of her or his community. Smaller communities generally don't take kindly to critics. Word travels quickly, inexplicably sharper-edged, and small town skins are thinner than those of humans toughened by the jostling of crowds.In a big city, the population often dilutes the impact of a review--due to odds and options, fewer people will see it. In a small town, the inverse is true: there are fewer information options on the street, and it's likely that more people will read the review. And through word of mouth, often the local population actually amplifies the review.In a small town, a bad review can be sufficiently amplified to affect economic hardship on the offending restaurant, hence hardship on the many businesses peripheral to the restaurant. It's a delicate balance, a food chain; restaurants deal with dozens of local businesses, from architects and printers to food and liquor purveyors, from linen services to electricians and plumbers, from tallow men and florists to newspapers and cab drivers--not to mention the restaurant's employees. Many birds might be harmed with one stone.To walk the line and yet continue to write about local restaurants, I honor a venerable, needle-pointed homily: If you don't have something nice to say, don't say it.The justice of that system is that the truly bad places are guilty by omission. The injustice is that so are the places I've yet to visit.I aim to convey impressions of restaurants; impressions based on enthusiasm and experience, and shaped by the gleanings of interviews and observation. I'll list dishes, I'll seek motives. I try to give the reader an idea of what a restaurant is up to, what it's about so far, and what it wants to be. Most independent restaurants have distinct characters.My opinions are expressed more often than not in terms of process, concept and spirit. I can define and honor a spirit, I can explain a process and I can dissect a dish. I can tell you something tasted delicious but I cannot pass judgment on poor quality. I won't throw stones, I'll avoid instigating ripples and I won't tell you not to go somewhere. No good will come of it.And even slight praise is encouragement."That's soft censorship!" raged a hairy intellectual after hearing my system."More like Utopian," an artist responded.I don't perceive deference to an established social etiquette, albeit one a shade wimpy, as a form of censorship; First: "When in Rome:" Second: Write around it.An important rule of the well-traveled road is Tact, and tact is the ticket to smooth navigation through societies. Welcome access to local kitchens is far more relevant to my form of restaurant writing than the lonely cubicle awaiting the arbiter of taste.I investigate, you evaluate. Your thoughtful comments are the review.Lagniappe - In the [Local Burger][1] article, I touted the value of the concept and ranted once again about America's tainted food production systems.To my mind, Local Burger is an important social experiment. The concept isn't unique; for the past few years, simply styled restaurants dedicated to responsible food production and preparation have rapidly taken hold on the east and west coasts.But Local Burger is a first for Lawrence and I very much believe in its spirit; I'm glad it's finally here. Hilary Brown [Local Burger owner] discussed her business plan with me a year ago, showed me a menu sketch, and we had an interview a few weeks before opening--that was the basis of the article.Now, nearly two weeks in, after an overwhelming start, Local Burger's systems are getting tighter and workers' nerves are loosening up. There are bugs to work out, certainly--portion sizes and the density of the burger buns are recurring topics. In a week or so, after she gets one night's good sleep, Brown will start to fine tune, the details will be attended to. At this point, though, it's still all about getting through the day.Most restaurants need about three months to really get rolling.In the big picture, Local Burger dramatically enriches the mix of downtown Lawrence's growing restaurant community. Furthermore, I hope it will serve to inform local restaurants and patrons alike that eating well is eating local. [1]: http://www.lawrence.com/blogs/foodways/2005/sep/08/localburger/ [2]: http://www.lawrence.com/places/krause...
Fine Newcomers
Downtown Lawrence is once again experiencing a flurry of restaurant activity. Each time such flurries occur, there's talk of a "restaurant row", of Lawrence as a regional dining destination. But it's only talk. To date, restaurants downtown have largely dealt with each other in terms of petty competition, of sniping, rather than building a stronger force through unity. If it happens that Lawrence becomes known as a dining destination, it will only be through cooperation. There is a limited pool of dining dollars in this town--the way to expand the pool is by cooperative excellence. Everybody on the same side, everyone focused on the prize. Two new fine dining houses have staked claims downtown, and both are truly fine. Krause Dining "Hey, Mama," piped Robert Krause as his wife and business partner, Molly Krause, walked into the kitchen. [Krause Dining][1], now located in that sexy room that housed the Bleu Jacket, and then the Meat Market, is the latest realization of the Krauses' restauranting passion. The Krauses' story is fascinating. There's the year they spent in Mali "for personal education," after selling their popular Topeka eatery, the New City Cafe. And the ensuing two years in San Francisco, working in the prestigious kitchens of Gary Danko, Aqua and the Ritz Carlton. Then the commercial kitchen and 30-seat dining room, designed and built by Dan Rockhill, attached to the Krause's 150-year old East Lawrence home--an innovation that clarified some local zoning issues and prompted the move to 811 New Hampshire. At Krause Dining, tasting is the name of the game. Robert Krause describes his tasting menu as "hors d'oeuvres and seven courses of food". And that unique experience runs about a hundred dollars. An abbreviation can be had for seventy dollars. The menu is focused and tight; Krause cooks his own food, executes his own designs. Most dishes are available a la carte. The menu of the week featured two duck treatments: a confit with fresh peach salsa and grilled goat cheese polenta; and a roast with passion fruit-mustard glaze, ginger-anise sticky rice with a banana fritter. Colorado peaches, at the peak of their season, showed up again--grilled this time--in a salad of frisee, mache, proscuitto and whole candied almonds, a confident and perfectly logical composition of contrasts of textures and tastes. Krause's food is not conceptually overwrought, and therein lays its elegance. He knows what good is, what "fresh" and "ripe" mean. Krause's finesse is a consequence of a scholarly approach and attentive practice. On an afternoon visit, in an immaculate and blissfully quiet kitchen, I found Krause peeling onions. If you cook, there are onions. Sous-chef Dana Hangauer was grinding spices in the pantry. How many Hangauers are there, anyway? White china hemispheres stacked atop the reach-through testified to Krause's eye for presentation--this is a man who sauces his souffles tableside. The onions Krause was peeling were cippolini: small, flat white onions harvested in August in Italy. Krause's cippolini would eventually join pearl onions and wild Oregon Coast mushrooms in the night's risotto. The Krauses are voracious art collectors and the walls of Krause Dining display pieces from their collection. And the fine art on the walls bleeds to the plate: A lobster, tomato and corn bisque--with a crouton of brioche graced with good lobster butter; gigantic scallops encrusted with macadamia nuts, seared, with a coconut-chile broth and a curried carrot puree; and beef carpaccio, molasses-marinated, with a mustard-parmesan mayonnaise. Krause is in control of his food. Everything fits in lockstep; each garnish, every flourish: essential to the whole. And it has soul; the food is respected. Bar business is encouraged. Try the antipasti. Juices for cocktails served in glasses that look and feel like art are freshly made. Krause's wine is economically priced: "I'm interested in selling wine, not hoarding it". How's business so far (nearly two months open)? "Busy." And Pachamama's coming in right across the street with 150 seats? "Spirited competition breeds creativity," Krause nods. "We could all do well." Krause Dining seats 50 in the dining room, 20 in the bar. Open Wednesday through Saturday at 5 pm, often sold out. Call (785) 838-9830 to reserve, or to make catering arrangements. "We're open 'till we leave," Krause smiles. Usually, on the weekends, they're closing around midnight. And Krause Dining always sends you off with a treat. On the afternoon I visited, Molly Krause was making profiteroles. Pachamama's "There were many reasons for making the move downtown," Ken Baker said as he stood at the corner of 8th and New Hampshire. "Visibility, primarily. We got tired of being ignored out in the hinterland. I spent too much time and tons of money on promotion and advertising. I want to concentrate on other things, on food and cooking, on evolving a restaurant." But even in the hinterland, it's a busy life. It's the thick of wedding season and the holidays loom ahead. Two upcoming wine dinners are well-booked. Advance reservations of farewell parties are coming in. Baker wants to hit the tape running. "We'll transfer service from here to the new place after the first of the year," Baker said in a phone call from the [Pachamama][2]'s kitchen, pans clanging in the background. "It's possible to move sooner, but we wanted to have the holidays here, undistracted, with our friends." "Movin' on up" is one of the most difficult feats of restauranting. Ken Baker is on a well-designed attack. Bo March of Elements Design/Build showed me around the new Pachamama's. "Organic, flowing, shifting, changing:" are words March used frequently on his tour. In 2000, March designed and built the Prairiefire restaurant (724 Mass, now [Thai House][3]), and has since renovated 901 Kentucky (the stainless steel cornice), designed and built [Signs of Life][4] (722 Mass), and made renovations for both Round Corner and the Carnegie Library. "See that color swatch on the wall over there?" March pointed. "That's called 'Sage'. That's the exterior color. I know I'll hear a few things about that." 'Sage' is greenish-yellow, a hue of particular vibrancy; 'Sage' was born to excite comment. It's all part of the plan. Design elements forthcoming--a corner tower, for example--will tie the new facade together. A patio seating 40, enclosing a side entrance for late-night service, will run nearly the length of the new Pachamama's northern perimeter. Inside the building are many micro-environments. "The Don's Booth," March calls an area just past the vestibule, soon to be highlighted by "the beautiful wall". Baker will again have his wood oven, his command post, located near the entrance of the restaurant. On the north side, lined with picture windows, is the "Main Room". At the center of the space (7162 square feet, with approximately 150 seats), lies the "Wine Room"--"sculptural furniture and Italian lights," says March. The wine room flows east to the bar, where a sinuous swath of crushed blue terrazzo embedded with fiber optics will make your cocktail shimmer with light. The bar, accessible by the side door, will take on its own character with time--Baker mentions "a late-night menu, events, and music." And the menu? Baker's still sketching, but look for lots of small plates. "I've got notebooks full of things," says Baker. "I'm staying focused on the home restaurant for now. But the increase in volume at the downtown place will make for a whole new ballgame--lunch in particular." Pachamama's much-lauded service, Baker assures, will maintain its high standards of knowledge and decorum. When the day comes, Pachamama's entire crew will shift from the home base to the new location. He already has the home base staffed and ready to host private functions as soon as the change is made. Even Pachamama's logo is getting an update. "I could move the food, I could move the crew," says Ken Baker, "but I couldn't move the sights and sounds of Pachamama's. I had to make something new." Lagniappe - There's lately been much praise for the biscuits and vegetarian gravy at [Aimee's Coffeehouse][5] on Mass. - [Vermont Street BBQ][6] goes into the Guinness Book of Records for the world's largest finger-painted mural. - The formidable [Godjilla][7] enthusiastically touts [Hayes Hamburger and Chili][8], a newcomer to the Orchard Corners at 15th and Kasold. Hayes is open 24 hours--by my count, Lawrence now has two all-night eateries. - Robert Krause gives thumbs-up to [J&S Coffee][9] at 6th and Wakarusa. "When I pick up fresh [coffee] beans for the restaurant, they're usually warm from the roaster. Joe Farthing is a scientist, a wizard--that's what a good coffee man should be." [1]: http://www.lawrence.com/places/krause... [2]: http://www.lawrence.com/places/pachamamas_new_world_cuisine/ [3]: http://www.lawrence.com/places/thai_h... [4]: http://www.lawrence.com/places/signs_... [5]: http://www.lawrence.com/places/aimees... [6]: http://www.lawrence.com/places/vermon... [7]: http://www.lawrence.com/blogs/godjilla/2005/jun/15/openalready/ [8]: http://www.lawrence.com/places/hayes_... [9]: http://www.lawrence.com/places/js_cof...
Lawrence’s Most Local Burger
![][1]Please ask where your food comes from, what's in it, how it was made, how it was raised, and we will tell you. That's only fair and we are happy to do it." - Hilary Brown, [Local Burger][2] restaurant owner. Mad cow, bad salmon, E. coli, GMOs and the rising price of gasoline... Over the past five years, these issues have improved the lot of America's small farmers - especially organic and transitioning farmers. When it comes to food integrity, the closer you are to the source, the better the quality and the surer the provenance. In Lawrence, locally grown and organic produce has appeared nearly exclusively on upscale and fine dining menus. Generally, the superior quality of labor-intensive organic produce and of all-natural meats translates to higher restaurant food costs, which translates to higher menu prices. Until now. "Why should tasty, wholesome food be regularly accessible only to the privileged few?" asks Hilary Brown. "Why shouldn't everyone eat good, clean food?" Brown's culinary love-child, Local Burger, is opening this week in the space formerly occupied by Mojo's at 714 Vermont. And while she has designed her menu to generously accommodate vegetarians, vegans and special diets, it would be a mistake to label it a "hippie place." Nor is Brown's food sterile and clinical. "Food has to taste good. Otherwise, who wants to eat it?" says Brown, a Lawrence native who has taught classes on food and nutrition at the Community Mercantile over the past two years. "I love good home cooking. But what we find to eat at most franchise places, fast food joints and even in some high-end independent restaurants are products and attitudes that only serve the bottom line. Rarely do you find a place that even considers - much less honors - every aspect of the food production process." The menu starts with a variety of burgers: grass-fed buffalo burgers from Sunset Ridge Bison in Clinton, elk burgers from Winchester, beef burgers from Amy's Meats in Lawrence and tofu filets from Central Soy Foods. The burger set-ups - lettuce, tomato, onion and pickle - are all organic. Side dishes include the "We're Not In Kansas Anymore Salad" (featuring hijiki, a sea vegetable); a quinoa-millet pilaf; tamari-seasoned brown rice and sunflower seeds; cinnamon applesauce (no sugar added); and Brown's addictive-as-french-fries Progressive Potatoes (air-baked red potatoes). There's also an inspired Tuna Salad (olive oil, mustard, capers, celery, walnuts, avocado and greens); an all-organic roasted vegetable salad; a vegan Caesar; a robust buffalo chili (Lone Star Buffalo); and, with a nod to the bygone Paradise Cafe, a bowl of steamed brown rice with veggies and tamari (tofu or cheese can be added). Specialties are fresh juices and smoothies (coconut milk or soy milk, with supplement options of flax seed, chia seed, Brazil nuts, walnuts and extra-virgin coconut oil). House-made drinks include sweet lime water (sweetened with stevia, an herb), local cider (when available), and the Master Cleanse (apple cider vinegar, honey, cayenne). Local Burger will open with a full-time staff of 12, and there's no doubt that Brown will take her cooks to school. Brown's cooking standards are impeccable, and her ingredients unusual to many of the cooks on the local restaurant circuit (quinoa? probiotic powder?). "Clean food starts with a clean house," Brown states, and a look around the spotless, tailored kitchen and the bright, sleek dining room immediately confirms Brown's statement. And that tricked-out, cherry red 1960s California Cruiser you'll soon see whizzing back and forth on Mass? That's Local Burger's delivery vehicle, servicing the immediate downtown area for $7.50 minimum orders (delivery not to begin for a few weeks). "We'll look at expanding our delivery service according to demand," says Amy Price, the manager of Local Burger. "And we'll be offering organic beers and wines in the next few months." The environment, the local economy, sustainable agriculture, humane animal husbandry, genetic tampering and unnatural food additives-these crucial considerations continue to gain importance in the national restaurant consciousness, but the progress remains slow. And in a town with a limited pool of dining-out dollars - especially a college town - inexpensive food too often reflects low-quality, mass-produced ingredients and careless, unskilled preparation. After all, there's a new crop of students every August. ![][3] Local Burger's prices are not much higher than the average chain burger joint - a couple of bucks, maybe - but the quality of the food certainly is. And as gasoline prices continue to rise, as our over-scaled, greed-driven and chemical-based food production systems continue to self-destruct, eating locally produced food is not just an intelligent choice - it's the future. [Local Burger][2] is slated to debut on Wednesday (Sept. 14). Call ahead to be sure 856-STAR. [1]: http://media.lawrence.com/img/blogs/s... [2]: http://www.lawrence.com/places/local_... [3]: http://media.lawrence.com/img/blogs/s...
Tomato
Old World The plant family of the Solanaceae (the nightshade family), includes peppers, eggplant, potatoes, tomatoes, tobacco, petunias, mandrake, belladonna, deadly nightshade and datura. The Solanaceae are of great global economic importance--consider tobacco and petunias. Solanaceae are hairy, rugged plants, steeped in mysticism. Don Juan used the seeds of Datura (thorn apple, loco weed) to take Carlos Castaneda to a separate reality. Italian women of the 18th century squeezed the juice of belladonna berries into their eyes, to dilate their pupils--in Italian, bella donna means beautiful woman."And shrieks, like mandrakes', torn out of the earth, That living mortals, hearing them, go mad." ('Romeo and Juliet', iv.,3)German folklore claims that witches used plants like mandrake and nightshade to summon werewolves, a practice known as lycanthropy. The common German name for tomatoes translates to "wolf peach", and because of this it was universally avoided.Because so many of the Solanaceae are poisonous--if not lethal, then hard tripping--it's no wonder that, as food, tomatoes, peppers, potatoes and eggplants were initially regarded with suspicion.New World "Vavilov was a renowned Russian scientist who conceived the idea that if one wants to locate the very center of origin for any crop species, look for the area which still has the highest diversity of that crop.: By that logic, one would look closely at the Western coast of South America, in present-day Peru, where eight species in the tomato genus still grow wild in the Andes Mountains. The current range of wild tomato relatives extends from the northern tip of Chile on the south, to Ecuador on the north, and reaching inland from the Pacific 100-200 miles, also including the Galapagos Islands."The French called the tomato pomme d'amour (Apple of Love), the Italians pomidoro (Apple of Gold). Before that, in pre-Columbian times, the Nahuatl people of Mexico named the tomato xicotomatl. "The Spanish explorer Cortez conquered the Aztec city of Tenochtitlan, later to be renamed Mexico City, in 1521. The earliest mention of the tomato in European literature is found in an herbal written by Matthiolus in 1544. He described tomatoes, or as they were called in Italy,pomi d'oro (golden apple), and wrote that they were "eaten in Italy with oil, salt and pepper". This provides evidence that the first tomatoes to reach the Old World were a yellow variety, and that they were introduced via the Mediterranean. Red tomatoes were said to be introduced to Italy by two Catholic priests many years later." Sam Cox.Botanically, tomatoes are a fruit. This is because a fruit is the edible part of a plant that contains the seeds, while a vegetable is the edible stems, leaves and roots of a plant. In 1893 the Supreme Court, defining a vegetable as "an edible plant usually eaten with the principal part of a meal," decreed the tomato a vegetable.According to art myth: Andy Warhol's mother served tomato soup for lunch for twenty years:Although it ranks only 16th as a source of Vitamin A among fruits and vegetables, and 13th as a source of Vitamin C, it rises to third as a provider of both, because we consume so much of it. And although the average tomato is 93.5% water, it also contains magnesium, niacin, iron, phosphorous, potassium, riboflavin and thiamine. Overall, the tomato is rated number one among fruits and vegetables as a source of vitamins and minerals in our diets. It is also easy to digest and low in calories, only 35 in a five-ounce tomato. A typical tomato truck holds 50,000 pounds of tomatoes, which is about 300,000 tomatoes.The world's largest food fight is the Tomatina in Spain: 20,000 people, 150,000 pounds of tomatoes, three hours.Florida is the largest producer of tomatoes in the U.S., about 50% of the annual fresh tomato market and nearly the entire domestic market in the months of December through May. California is second in fresh tomato production, first in processed tomato production.The average American consumes about 18 pounds of fresh tomatoes per year. At retail, tomatoes rank third in vegetable sales, following potatoes and lettuce. Factoring in processed tomatoes (ketchup, pizza), the consumption figure rises to 22 pounds per person. According to Guinness, the largest tomato on record was grown in Oklahoma, weighing in at 7 ¾ pounds.Most likely due to French influence, the Creoles of New Orleans were the first in the United States to use tomatoes in cooking. Next World "In the 1980s a project was undertaken by Calgene Fresh, Inc. using biotechnology to tweak the tomato genetics to inactivate the gene responsible for softening the tomato during ripeness. These tomatoes turned red, but remained firm indefinitely:. They called this cultivar Flavr Savr because vine-ripening supposedly gave it better flavor. It hit the produce sections of stores in the U.S. during 1993. The Flavr Savr tomato represents one of the greatest public relations blunders of the decade. Industry executives severely underestimated the public's concern over biotechnology, and failed to anticipate the backlash from consumers over this new and potentially risky technology applied to human food. Although evidence suggesting any danger over genetically engineered food is lacking, consumers are nervous about any potentially unknown and unforeseen side effects. The Flavr Savr tomato was soon removed from supermarket shelves, and has never been reintroduced." Sam Cox."Lycopene is the compound that gives tomatoes and certain other fruits and vegetables their color: People who have a diet rich in tomatoes, which contain lycopene, appear to have a lower risk of certain kinds of cancer, especially cancers of the prostate, lung and stomach." American Cancer Society"In a 1995 Harvard University study conducted with 47,894 men, researchers found that eating ten or more servings a week of tomato products was associated with a reduced risk of prostate cancer by as much as 34 percent." [link http://www.eatright.org/Print/92_8300.cfm]Eat Right[/link]
Ruchi
Hospitality "Will you take some lunch? Please, just a little." Three times in fifteen minutes had Ravi Seelam inquired of my comfort, sincere inquiries, not the usual empty platitudes. "Would you like to sit? Are you feeling thirsty?" Service standards are high at [Ruchi][1], the latest restaurant to settle into the space on the southeast side of the Orchards Corners shopping center at Kasold and Bob Billings Parkway. Ruchi's manner of service is warm yet formal, solicitous, perhaps a little florid, like the service in crusty, venerable country clubs; a style of service--fast disappearing--focused entirely on the customer and the dining experience. "Please, enjoy a little something." Each time I've visited Ruchi, I've recklessly overeaten--sweating and crazed--to the point of pain. Maybe it's the mixture of ghee and beer (but drinking wine made no difference); maybe those seven servings of nan with that fiery, salty carrot pickle (best washed down with beer); maybe it's that mango lassi (a mixture of yogurt, sliced mango and fresh mango nectar which instantly douses a chili fire--a tart, sweet milkshake; a fine complement to a spicy lamb vindaloo), too cloying and heavy as an aperitif; and maybe, no probably, it is the tantalizing, awe-inspiring Thali (super-sizing, Ruchi-style), unquestionably a dalliance with the deadly sin of gluttony. Oh, Thali! You can order a la carte or you can order Thali. Thali generally costs three dollars more than the a la carte entree and there are over fifty entrees to choose from, in five categories: Tandoor and Kabob (marinated meats and seafood cooked in a clay oven), Chicken, Lamb, Seafood and Vegetable. Say you order the Chicken 65 Thali--a strong recommendation. Not only will your waiter praise your choice and call you "Sir" at every opportunity (even women), he will set before you a round stainless steel tray containing five stainless steel cups surrounding a pile of basmati pilaf studded with peas and shavings of carrot and fragrant with caraway. Atop the mountain of rice, like lava oozing from a volcano, is your Chicken 65--cubes of boneless chicken breast marinated with peppers and "Indian spices" (turmeric, cumin, coriander, cardamom, fenugreek (a seed with a maple-like flavor), black pepper and ground sweet and hot peppers are common to many mixes), coated with egg batter and deep-fried, and garnished with a generous dollop of hot or sweet (your choice) mango chutney. Impressive indeed, and certainly addictive, but the Thali is all about the five cups. Three of the cups hold soups: one is always Ruchi's excellent and mild lentil curry--for me the benchmark, after breads, of any good Indian kitchen. The other soup changes frequently: one time, a tomato soup suspiciously reminiscent of Campbell's with a dash of garam masala; a perfectly balanced sweet-spicy-sour tamarind elixir (Rasam) on another visit. The third cup contains the comforting Sambhar, a chunky potage of pureed potatoes and onions with peas, green beans and carrots. The fourth cup contains holds raitha (cucumber-infused yogurt, in this version)--only dairy, not water, effectively douses the flames of spicy food. The fifth cup holds dessert, which, on each visit so far, has been a soothing, cinnamon-kissed rice pudding. Thali also comes with bread--your choice of Poori or Nan, and, like India Palace downtown, Ruchi excels at breadmaking. Thirteen breads are listed on the menu, from the laser-crisp lentil papadum to dense parathas (pan-fried wheat bread, often stuffed with vegetables), to the Kabuli Nan, a chewy Tandoori bread similar to pita, stuffed with braised lamb, cashew nuts and dried cherries. Other Things I've Thalied, or Seen Thalied - Bhendi Masala: Okra fried with "curry" (like "Indian spices", a vague term to define highly individualistic combinations of a vast spice palette--great cooks of India are the global masters of culinary spice alchemy). A dish of contrasts: the tooth of the okra versus the bounce of the pilaf and the cool of the raita--quite a ride for twelve bucks. - Lamb Vindaloo: I love it. Second after Chicken Tikka Masala--which isn't Indian at all; it was invented in Scotland. The Ramones, also, love Vindaloo. - Baigan Bartha: Ten years ago in Spain, Ferran Adria-in his forty seat restaurant that employed forty five cooks-was running pistachio-hinted foie gras and pig-sniffed truffles and any outrageously expensive ingredient he could find through whipped cream chargers to create avant-savory foams in severe, characteristically Spanish arrangements on $100 dollar plates at the price of $250 per head. Booked solid a decade in advance. At Ruchi, for the Baigan Bartha, they chop roasted eggplant--by hand, with plain knives--together with potatoes, peas, onions, garlic, cilantro and "Indian spices" to a consistency lighter than Adria ever dreamed, a composition as straightforward and startling as a Picasso. For twelve bucks.Thali is beautiful. Thali can be painful. Thali is a guaranteed to-go box. Cold Ruchi might be your breakfast epiphany.Oh Buffet! Many the happy times I've had at Indian food buffets! My last visit to Ruchi was on Mother's Day, this past Sunday at 2 pm. The place was packed. Wisely, Ravi had opted for a Mother's Day Buffet--big parties, always a tricky variable on a made-to-order menu, overwhelmed the house. I remarked on the number of turbans in the dining room. "On the weekends, many people come from Topeka. There are many more Indian people in Topeka than Lawrence," Ravi explained. "During the week, 90% Lawrence people, American people." I asked what the weekday bestsellers were. "Tandoori Mixed Grill, Butter Chicken, Chicken Tikka Masala." Ravi and I wove ourselves through the buffet line, dodging bemused customers. He was clearly proud of his food--I took notes as Ravi pointed out his favorites: Goat Curry and Chilly Fish (catfish). I asked if the Chilly moniker referred to the Scoville rating of the dish. "We don't make things too hot at the buffet," Ravi stated. "but at night, you can have it as hot as you like." We continued our buffet tango, sweeping lithely past the vegetable biryani (an elaborate rice casserole--a grand pilaf--of the northern Mughal tradition; at dinner, the biryanis are served with both raitha and curry sauce), and the idli (steamed rice cakes); past daal curry (lentils), chicken curry and masala dosa (a shell of ground rice and lentils fried in ghee--clarified butter--filled with a mixture of potatoes, onions, peas, turmeric, chiles and mustard seed); past the nan and the pakora and tandoori chicken until at last we settled gently at the salad bar where, amongst thickly-sliced cucumbers and wedges of tomato, amongst the wedges of iceberg and pots of coconut dressing and mint sauce and hot carrot pickle, there was the inevitable container of Ranch.The buffet runs every day from 11 am to 2.30 pm--mango lassi and masala chai included. KU students with valid student ID recieve a one dollar discount.The Brothers Seelam Ninanjan, Ravi and Davender are the brothers Seelam. In 1999, they opened Ruchi in Overland Park, a runaway success (3 ½ stars out of 4 from the Kansas City Star; 3 stars from the Pitch). Ninanjan now runs the OP store and, one gets the sense, keeps a paternal and discerning eye on all the family's ventures. Ravi and Davender handle the Lawrence store, which opened January 2005. Ruchi, by the way, means tasty--the name was Ravi's idea. "We feature both northern and southern specialties," replies Ravi, when asked what sets Ruchi apart from the mighty India Palace (my high regard for The Palace is public record). "They are mostly from the north." Southern specialties like Puliyodharai, a Tamil rice dish flavored with toasted coriander, cumin and fenugreek seeds, tamarind (the sweet-tart pulp of a large tropical bean), and turmeric, mustard and brown sugar, enriched with a handful of chickpea dal and garnished with peanuts and curry leaves; or Upma (known in India as "a bachelor's dish" and blithely described on the Ruchi menu as Cream of wheat), a sublime and nostalgic semolina porridge--think polenta--with onion, chiles, coriander, cashews and tomatoes. "We make very good food at Ruchi," Ravi proclaims. "Our saag (chopped, braised spinach) is from fresh leaves; we make the paneer (cheese):but I won't tell you the recipes. The recipes are the secret weapons."With 124 items on the menu, Ruchi has plenty of culinary ammo. So far, I've been delivered no duds. And to think that Lawrence now has two world-class Indian restaurants within its city limits-what better reason for unabashed gluttony? Get yourself to Ruchi! Thali ho! "Yes, you eat too much, but it's healthy!" Ravi cries. [1]: http://www.lawrence.com/places/ruchi_...
Fine dining is a dangerous game
[Click to play video of Pachamama's kitchen in action][1] (Video by Dayton Segard)[Pachamama's][2] (Part 1)[![][3]][1]The Playing Field Fine dining is indeed a dangerous game. The hours are long and hard; you work with a difficult segment of the public (at fine dining prices, everyone's a connaisseur); the work is complex and exacting, and conducted at a nearly desperate pace; time allotted for research and experimentation, the fun part, is eaten at and often completely consumed by an endless procession of minutiae, from dirty compressors to sick dishwashers (try a Saturday night without a dishwasher) to bruised birds, pre-menstrual hosts and corked wine; a flimsy equation subject to a galaxy of variables and very few constants, other than worry and exhaustion. The demands of the fine dining business routinely dissolve marriages and old friendships. They devour savings accounts and credit ratings, not to mention good old humanism. Days off become bittersweet memories, and the bottom line becomes your own Jim Jones. And once in a while come those lovely nights: when the lights are right, the house is full, and the crew is on; when there's laughter and ice clinking in the glasses; when the plates are perfect and beautiful; and when everyone-crew and customers alike-has a wonderful time; nights you know that most of your guests will go home and make inspired love: The love of those nights-the goodwill and the redemption and elusive synchronicity-compels the best fine dining restauranteurs from their barely warmed, allium-scented beds each moonlit morn. Fine dining houses, on the average, keep from minus zero (hotels) to around eight percent of the gross-three to five percent is the average. McDonald's keeps around 18%. Over 80% of fine dining houses close near their first anniversaries: beloved dreams, gallons of sweat and pints of blood, and a big pile of money, down the drain. The numbers don't lie, and by the numbers, fine dining is risky business. The Players > Misguided restauranteurs are easy to spot: those bland, nose-talking figurines in au courant ensembles, their faces permanently plastered with expressions of bad-oyster distaste. They know nothing of the business, they fear sweat and dirt. They pretend an important purpose, but posing and gossiping is all they're worth. "Seagulls" is the trade descriptor for this ilk of restauranteurs-they swoop in, make a lot of noise, distract and disrupt, crap on everything, kipe something and then take off. Happily, such attitude-based enterprises are usually the first to go: only villains abuse the impeccable virtues of good food and welcoming as a vehicle for petty pretensions. The "naturals" aren't easy to spot because they're deep in their houses, hard at good work (and vice versa). Naturals are artists focused on their art, and fine dining is just another stage in their progress. Naturals tend gardens by their kitchen doors. They nurture their crews and their customers. They put a week's worth of effort into each 24 hours: inventing, tinkering, refining and polishing-happy all the while. Why invest so much in an enterprise with such low returns? Why singe your eyelids, cut off your finger, sweat over bank reconciliations and listen, once again, to a customer waxing about her grandmother's divine meatloaf (the secret is powdered ranch dressing in the mix), that you really should put on your menu? Fine dining restauranteurs-the good ones, those who prevail-they just can't help it. Fine dining-the principle, not the concept-is unsullied and high-spirited. Fine dining is tasteful rebellion and respectful re-invention-a medium of intelligent creation. Fine dining is Art. And fine dining chefs who change their menus monthly-a daring tango, ankle-bound by budget, fired by passion-chefs like [Pachamama's][2] Ken Baker: For dancers like that, the art is in the bone. If I was a genius genetic engineer, just back from a week in Jamaica, with a dream laboratory, and I crossed a chunk of that salt-silk Caribbean vibe with a bit of anything off the floor of Flogging Molly's dressing room, and added to that a scraping of Ken Frank, a scant teaspoon of Keith Richards, a pinch of Astaire and a full fist of the young Thomas Keller, then either fermented or braised the mixture (I'd know at the time), and served it up, plated like a painting, in a comfortable setting, with ice-cold Red Stripe or a flinty Sancerre, Tosh in the air and a side of dang hot peppers-I'd call it Ken Baker. Stay tuned for Part 2, wherein we talk to Baker and take a look inside Lawrence's only fine dining experience. [1]: http://media.lawrence.com/video/blogs/pachamamas.mov [2]: http://www2.lawrence.com/places/pachamamas_new_world_cuisine/ [3]: http://lawrence.com/blogs/foodways/pachamamas.jpg
Save The Liver!
"Her gourmet philosophy included drinking. In one TV program, chef and friend Jacques Pepin asked her what kind of wine she preferred with picnics [:] red or white. "I like beer" Child said enthusiastically, pulling out a cold bottle and two glasses. "We'd go to the market and she'd buy Wonder Bread," Pepin said in a telephone interview. "She had no snobbism about food whatsoever." Child also expressed a fondness for hamburgers, which she ate while recovering from 2002 knee-replacement surgery." " abc.news.com. Age 89."Julia Child, the celebrated cook, author and television personality who elevated the nation's culinary standards, died in her sleep early Friday morning at an assisted living home in Montecito, Calif. She was 91. As America's gastronomic guru, she had no peer. She taught us to relish food and wine as a way of appreciating life's bounty. From this brave new world of food, there is no turning back." " Sylvia Lindman, msnbc.com.Julia traveled the world and it promoted remarkable growth in her sensitivity to flavor. She focused on French food not as a style but as a righteous approach to living--and who can honestly deny that? Spain, maybe. Brazil."She loved food and loved the camaraderie that came with it. "Dining with one's friends and beloved family is certainly one of life's primal and most innocent delights, one that is both soul-satisfying and eternal," she said in the introduction to her seventh book, "The Way to Cook." In spite of food fads, fitness programs, and health concerns, we must never lose sight of a beautifully conceived meal." " cnn.com. When I decided to work with food, I faced an important decision: school or self-education. I'd been reading a lot of Mark Twain at the time and he said, "Self-education is the only education there is". I found that appealing. To me, it connoted prolonged interest and enthusiasm. So I got work in the kitchens of chefs whose food I admired and I got paid to learn. I lived in dumps and spent most of my money on wine and books. On a tip from a wizard bookseller, and because of the title, the first tome I took home was "Mastering the Art of French Cooking". Everything I cooked from that book tasted better than anything I'd cooked before. It was a real education. Then I developed this nearly weird interest in "The French Chef"; I rented and re-rented the tapes--that episode when she was disarmingly frank with a chicken. There was a cult of us in L.A. at the time, these intense young cooking guys into Julia Child. We'd stink up the bars after work and talk shortbread. Her recipes were bulletproof, thoroughly tested--you always defaulted to Julia. I'm on my fourth copy of "Baking with Julia" and "Julia's Kitchen Wisdom," a potent distillation, is a constant reference. I've never found a lie in any of her work."....Asked by an interviewer what food she didn't like to eat, Child snapped back, "Food that is badly cooked." ....At a public event, she was once asked what was her favorite meal. Instantly, she reeled off the menu of a seven-course feast. Asked how anyone could eat all that, Child said, "You don't, but you taste everything." ....In another interview she said, "You have to eat to cook. You can't be a good cook and be a non-eater. I think eating is the secret to good cooking." " cnn.com.In ways abstract and concrete, I've been learning from Julia Child for a long time. She has influenced profoundly the way I perceive and perform my work, and moved me to try to do better in general. I love her way; the only expression for it is French: joie de vivre. She talked the talk and she walked the walk, she danced on every dotted line, she made people happy, and wiser, and she had a good time. Life was her instrument and she did play. Here's to Julia."America is fortunate that Julia Child lived among us. Her hearty appetite, curious nature and passion for the pleasures of life were contagious, not only for those who actually made her recipes but for all of us. Because of her, American food, at home and in restaurants, no longer means perfection salad, overcooked peas and roast beef. It means the infinite variety of fresh seafood, grains, fruits and berries, nuts, vegetables, poultry and meat raised and served in appetizing array from coast to coast." " Sylvia Lindman, msnbc.com.
Tortas Jalisco
[Tortas Jalisco][1], 3300 W. 6th, Lawrence Meet The Torta The world's largest torta weighed 650 pounds. A few weeks ago the first national Torta Festival was held in Mexico City. Torterias, the places where one gets tortas, are multiplying rapidly in Florida, Texas and California, popping up even in Omaha, Memphis and Lawrence, Kansas. The French, of course, are somehow involved--they brought the baguettes.Mexicans were introduced to European-style breads and pastries when the French invaded Mexico in the mid-1800s. Tough and ever-resourceful, the Mexicans soon booted their over-dressed invaders, but kept the baguettes. The torta, you see, is a sandwich.The Torta Ahogada (Smothered Sandwich) contains carnitas--tender chunks of slow-cooked pork--a slathering of the lightest, most delicate refried beans I have ever tasted, a scattering of onions and cilantro, all smothered with an assertive salsa. The Torta de Tinga (a style of spicy braise, or stew), features chicken and yellow onions marinated in vinegar and more than a few chipotle peppers (dried and smoked jalapenos). The Cubana, one of the world's great sandwiches, is composed of roast pork shoulder, ham, beans, lettuce and tomatoes; and the Milanesa, another classic, features "chicken-fried" steak dressed with beans and guacamole (Milanesa: of Milan = breaded). There are eight tortas on the Tortas Jalisco menu, costing no more than $5.50, each imbued with its own personality and all made with fresh, flavorful ingredients. They come warm and neatly paper-wrapped--stick-to-your-ribs sandwiches, fuel for hard work or dreamless sleep. Behind The Torta Bread is the secret behind every good sandwich, and while tortas are occasionally made on baguettes, the softer bolillo (a crusty roll), or the flatter telera (torpedo-shaped), are the breads of choice in modern Mexico. Angel Alvarez and his wife Laura Romero, the duenos of Tortas Jalisco, buy their telera from Panaderia Azteca in Olathe. "I tried many panaderias (bakeries); Azteca was the best," says Alvarez. "That bread!" intones Jim Baker, food writer for the Lawrence Journal World.Angel Alvarez is from the state of Jalisco, land of Guadalajara and Tequila. After ten years in southern California and four years in Lawrence, he speaks English without a hitch. Laura Romero is from Puebla, a town that Diana Kennedy (that great scholar of Mexican foodways), called "a wellspring of culture." For Mexican Art and artists, and cooks in particular, Puebla is both laboratory and gallery.For ten months, Alvarez and Romero have cooked quietly together, in remarkable harmony, crafting skillful tipicas--the "typical" (street) foods of Mexico--while charming Lawrence's underground cognoscenti with the heartfelt gift that is Mexican hospitality. Even as the secret of Tortas Jalisco's existence unravels and the line of devoted customers grows longer, it seems unlikely the spirit of Tortas Jalisco will change. Tortas Jalisco is a family affair, simple and clean, unmarred by pretension and affectation. And the homey touches make all the difference: food served on brightly colored ceramic plates--not plastic or cardboard--little compotes of salsa presented with each order, the obligatory mural rendered with colors straight from the can (saguaros and twilight buttes and mesas), and the warmth with which customers of all stripes are welcomed.Alvarez and Romero work their magic six days a week in a gas station on the west side of town.Mas Que Tortas The soft tacos really turned me on. Little coaster-sized corn tortillas, one dollar each, graced with a dice of perfectly fried whitefish (catfish?), or an alchemic adobada of pork, an adobada being a baroque braise of onions and mild, earthy chiles. The dinner platters ($5.99-$7.99) are obvious labors of love. Enchiladas, flautas, fajitas, chimichangas, tostaditas--the greatest hits of Mexican cooking, so often compromised in this country by heavy hands, insensitive palates and too much salt. Tortas Jalisco's renderings of these classic dishes are light, full of flavor and carefully presented, emphatically refuting the American notion that Mexican food is more about bulk than nuance.Menudo, that unique stew of tripe (the lining of a cow's stomach), oft maligned--there are few foods as nasty as bad menudo--is a revelatory experience when well-made. On the occasional weekends when Alvarez and Romero prepare their menudo, local Latino families line up, bringing vessels from home for take-out. Menudo's curative power is well-known in Mexico, particularly as a sure-fire cure for hangover. On one weekend morning visit, I noticed several wretched-looking college students bravely stepping into the menudo line: "I swear, dude, it really works." If you're not up for the menudo experience, try the tight and tasty breakfast menu: eggs to order, breakfast burritos, omelets and the Mexican-style eggs, a first-rate scramble of onions chorizo, jalapenos and tomatoes, served with rice and beans ($4.99).Encantada A torteria or a taqueria is nearly always an informal place, a humble operation, usually family-owned and operated. You find them in strip malls, parking lots, roach coaches and, sometimes, in gas stations. I've come across a few excellent gas station eateries in my time; Oklahoma Joe's (BBQ) in Kansas City comes immediately to mind, a Korean place in Los Angeles.... I'm a sucker for hidden treasures, of beauties discovered in unlikely places. Tortas Jalisco is located in the Phillips 66 near 6th and Kasold. The flag of Mexico hangs beside the U.S. flag in the front window, next to Joe Camel and Little Debbie. People of every kind--Latino laborers, good ol' boys in bulbous pick-ups, starchy suits and scruffy students, rednecks and dreadheads, all colors, all classes--they come, they eat well for little, they catch the vibe and leave smiling and satisfied. Ain't that America? [1]: http://www2.lawrence.com/places/torta...
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