The lions, cheetahs and leopards didn’t chose to eat a wrinkled, kitchenless American for lunch, so I have returned, intact, from Africa. Though I am still kitchenless, progress, progress, progress has been made. Most of my gorgeous cherry cabinets are installed. The pantry is going to be just perfect for storing several cartons of Diet Pepsi for The Man, just as I’d hoped. The spice rack is nifty, should I ever cook again and need spices. The roll-out shelves in the lower cabinets will be helpful as I lose my agility for crawling on my beautiful-as-well-as-ecologically-sound new bamboo floor to reach the bread pans in the far corners of the bottom shelf. That is, if I lose my remaining brain cells and actually decide to bake bread sometime again.
So we arrived home after 33 hours of travel and immediately went to out to eat at Taste of India on Bluemound Road. The food at this restaurant is surprisingly similar to some restaurants in Cape Town, South Africa, whose cuisine is labeled "Cape Malay". There are some differences. The ambiance at Taste of India is quite elegant, considering it is located in the back corner of a Bluemound Road shopping center. It sports chandeliers, dark carpeting, white cloth napkins and crystal water glasses. The Cape Malay restaurant in Cape Town had fabulous views of mountains and oceans and had no need for interior ambiance. The Taste of India’s menu is far more extensive. (Actually, spending on all luxuries is far more extensive in the US.) Where the Taste of India has 78 main dish menu items, the Cape Malay restaurant at which we ate had perhaps ten. Our meal there was delicious with the identical appetizers as we ate here. Our meal here was also delicious. There it was served by two older women in colorful ethnic clothing; here it was served by two young Indian gentlemen dressed as American waiters. Cape Malay cuisine in South Africa implies that the establishment is Muslim, therefore no alcohol is served. The Taste of India has a wine list and several beers available.
We tried the two Indian wines on the Taste of India's wine list, a Chardonnay that The Man Who Drinks Only White Wine said was "pretty good," while I sipped the Indian Cabernet Sauvignon. I would call it "drinkable", with some tanins, but lacking intense or complex flavors. With our wine was served a Papadum, a large crisp wafer cooked with flavorful cumin seeds and three dipping sauces. We also enjoyed an order of Samosas ($2.95), those yummy pouches of potatoes and vegetables in a crisp, deep-fried, thin pastry shell. We had barely finished this appetizer when our dinner orders appeared. How is it possible to cook meals that fast? My Seekh Kabab ($13.95), somewhat dry ground lamb sausages served on a bed of steamed onions, was accompanied by a welcome, cool yogurt sauce. The Predictable Man dining with me ordered a medium spicy Chicken Curry ($10.95), though it must have been quite spicy indeed. I noticed that his Chardonnay disappeared quickly, as did a large glass of water. I sampled his meal bravely and found that the hot pepper taste did not drown out the taste of fresh ginger in this curry.
I was barely awake as we ate, but believe I enjoyed the Taste of India enough that I would recommend it to you. Though there were several other tables filled at 6:30 on this Tuesday evening, the service was fast and friendly. Oh yes.. The floor and sink in the ladies’ bathroom were not up to the standards of cleanliness of those in the restaurants in which we ate in South Africa. But, if memory serves me, I have definitely seen worse along Bluemound. And Cape Town is a bit of a distance to travel to for dinner.
Kitchenless in Brookfield
Thursday, October 25, 2007
Friday, October 5, 2007
Potbelly and Chili's
We’re packing. I have very few clothes in my closet that fit, which makes packing easier. The butter and cheese from Carrabba’s and Kopp’s has taken up residence on my body. The Man Who Actually Likes To Shop (YUK!) And Always Buys New Clothes Just Before We Travel just came home with six new pairs of slacks. Only four are for the trip, he says. But The Man Who Is Not Built Like Kareem Abdul Jabaar has to have all his clothes altered. I hate to sew. I won’t sew. I have put in a few zippers upside down and inside out in my day. I do not go through the humiliation any more. So The Man Who Owns The Official Milwaukee Tool Company Workshop also had to learn to use a sewing machine. He just shortened four pairs of slacks. Now we’re packing.
I still have two restaurants to tell you about before we leave the glamour of Bluemound Road tomorrow morning. Therefore I am going to cheat and put two restaurant reviews into one blog entry.
If it weren’t for this blog thing going on, I’m sure I would never have eaten at Potbelly. Just the name – I’ve got one of those already. Actually, I assumed the name was referring to pigs, as in pork, but it’s not. It’s all about old stoves. And other antiques that make the place look like an old-fashioned ice cream shop. Kind of cute, I guess. More importantly, it is spotless. Even the bathroom, which is decorated with those little, one-inch, hexagonal black-and-white tiles like my grandma’s house had. On the walls are hung those old Northern Tissue baby pictures. But then, you aren’t old enough to remember those.
Potbelly is a fast food place where you place your order at a counter, they put your sandwich together, and you pay up there. No tips, again. Happy Man. There are 11 sandwich choices (all $4.19) and four salads (all $5.29), a few soups and shakes and smoothies. What’s the difference between a shake and a smoothie? I had a boysenberry smoothie ($2.69), and it sure tasted like a shake to me. I chose a Tuna Salad Sandwich with Swiss cheese, tomatos, pickles and mayo, and The Meat Man had a Wreck Sandwich, which is a meaty affair of salami, roast beef, turkey and ham with Swiss cheese. The Man chose to dress his sandwich with tomatoes, oil and Italian seasoning. The bread on which these yummy affairs are served is a light whole wheat baguette, served crispy and warm.
We will be back. Potbelly’s is clean, it’s fast, it’s inexpensive and it’s tasty. What’s not to like?
Last night, after The Man Who Can Fix Anything messed around with some gas pipe or flexible tubing or something that will connect our new stove, we ate a late dinner at Chili’s. Chili’s has a huge menu. I just printed it out at home, as I do as part of my professional restaurant critic’s research. The menu, in computer-printable form, takes up 8 pages! If you can’t find something you like among all of these choices, go home. You aren’t hungry.
The first thing I noticed is that they define the heat of the different kinds of chili peppers that spice up many of their dishes. But, thankfully, not all of them. We chose to just order a sandwich. Goodness knows when The Man Who Likes His Burgers is going to get another one anytime soon. So he ordered the BBQ Ranch Burger($7.29), which comes with bacon, cheddar, and barbeque sauce. I had a Chili’s Cheesesteak Sandwich ($7.29). It is sliced steak grilled with lots of onions, bell peppers (my kind of peppers), mushrooms and melted provolone cheese. Hot (temperature only) and tasty.
As there are 3 red wines of dubious quality on the menu and 15 bottled beers (plus 3 on tap), I had a Corona with a lime slice. It was good with the sandwich, though I did have to ask for a glass. The place was clean – our waitress, Melanie, was sweeping up the crumbs under the tables as her clients left. A good sign.
We did not hang out and enjoy a second glass of beer. We leave for Africa tomorrow. I am in the throes of figuring out how to get our tripod, birding scope, binoculars and wildlife guides into our luggage. Do you think it’s okay to take salted nuts in a carry-on? It’s going to take us almost 24 hours on three flights to get to Johannesburg, and you know the airlines aren’t into feeding the multitudes who are bumping butts back in the cattle section.
I think there will be a few more restaurants to review when we get home – before I am cooking in The Most Beautiful Kitchen In Brookfield. Until then, I am still....
Kitchenless in Brookfield
I still have two restaurants to tell you about before we leave the glamour of Bluemound Road tomorrow morning. Therefore I am going to cheat and put two restaurant reviews into one blog entry.
If it weren’t for this blog thing going on, I’m sure I would never have eaten at Potbelly. Just the name – I’ve got one of those already. Actually, I assumed the name was referring to pigs, as in pork, but it’s not. It’s all about old stoves. And other antiques that make the place look like an old-fashioned ice cream shop. Kind of cute, I guess. More importantly, it is spotless. Even the bathroom, which is decorated with those little, one-inch, hexagonal black-and-white tiles like my grandma’s house had. On the walls are hung those old Northern Tissue baby pictures. But then, you aren’t old enough to remember those.
Potbelly is a fast food place where you place your order at a counter, they put your sandwich together, and you pay up there. No tips, again. Happy Man. There are 11 sandwich choices (all $4.19) and four salads (all $5.29), a few soups and shakes and smoothies. What’s the difference between a shake and a smoothie? I had a boysenberry smoothie ($2.69), and it sure tasted like a shake to me. I chose a Tuna Salad Sandwich with Swiss cheese, tomatos, pickles and mayo, and The Meat Man had a Wreck Sandwich, which is a meaty affair of salami, roast beef, turkey and ham with Swiss cheese. The Man chose to dress his sandwich with tomatoes, oil and Italian seasoning. The bread on which these yummy affairs are served is a light whole wheat baguette, served crispy and warm.
We will be back. Potbelly’s is clean, it’s fast, it’s inexpensive and it’s tasty. What’s not to like?
Last night, after The Man Who Can Fix Anything messed around with some gas pipe or flexible tubing or something that will connect our new stove, we ate a late dinner at Chili’s. Chili’s has a huge menu. I just printed it out at home, as I do as part of my professional restaurant critic’s research. The menu, in computer-printable form, takes up 8 pages! If you can’t find something you like among all of these choices, go home. You aren’t hungry.
The first thing I noticed is that they define the heat of the different kinds of chili peppers that spice up many of their dishes. But, thankfully, not all of them. We chose to just order a sandwich. Goodness knows when The Man Who Likes His Burgers is going to get another one anytime soon. So he ordered the BBQ Ranch Burger($7.29), which comes with bacon, cheddar, and barbeque sauce. I had a Chili’s Cheesesteak Sandwich ($7.29). It is sliced steak grilled with lots of onions, bell peppers (my kind of peppers), mushrooms and melted provolone cheese. Hot (temperature only) and tasty.
As there are 3 red wines of dubious quality on the menu and 15 bottled beers (plus 3 on tap), I had a Corona with a lime slice. It was good with the sandwich, though I did have to ask for a glass. The place was clean – our waitress, Melanie, was sweeping up the crumbs under the tables as her clients left. A good sign.
We did not hang out and enjoy a second glass of beer. We leave for Africa tomorrow. I am in the throes of figuring out how to get our tripod, birding scope, binoculars and wildlife guides into our luggage. Do you think it’s okay to take salted nuts in a carry-on? It’s going to take us almost 24 hours on three flights to get to Johannesburg, and you know the airlines aren’t into feeding the multitudes who are bumping butts back in the cattle section.
I think there will be a few more restaurants to review when we get home – before I am cooking in The Most Beautiful Kitchen In Brookfield. Until then, I am still....
Kitchenless in Brookfield
Thursday, October 4, 2007
Saffron Indian Bistro
This is my second blog entry today. I have some catching up to do before we are out of the country and off of Bluemound Road for a few weeks.
I’m trying to decide between packing hiking boots or sandals. In Kruger National Park in South Africa, where we will be for the first week of our trip, you are not allowed to get out of your car except in camps and picnic areas, which I assume means that these areas are safe for humans to eat food, not areas at which humans ARE the picnic. Should I take shorts or capris? I don't look too hot in either one after a month of restaurant food. Do I take rechargeable batteries, a charger and a converter – or just pack a bunch of AA batteries for my digital camera. Okay, I’d probably take the converter anyway, to run my travel hair dryer, just in case I decide I need to look spiffy enough for the lions to chose me for their luncheon menu. It’s so much easier just to stay home - -no decisions and one can eat out, not be eaten.
Next on my Bluemound Road restaurant route was supposed to be Wong’s Wok, but I decided it would be okay to skip ahead when friends offered to eat out with us. The Saffron Indian Bistro was a perfect choice for six of us dining together who were all willing to try a variety of their tempting-sounding Indian dishes. We sipped a bottle of Barossa syrah ($25) while discussing the choices and eventually decided on three appetizers, a soup, two breads, and three main dishes.
The breads were both Naan, the Indian flatbread that is seasoned and baked in a clay oven. We tried the Rosemary Naan and the Garlic Basil Naan, which was exceptionally good. The soup was a yellow lentil soup called Dal. It was a mild, but bright yellow dish which many of us enjoyed over some of the basmati rice that came with our meal. For appetizers we tried Bihari Palak Pakoda ($3.95), which I’d describe as deep-fried spinach and rice patties, Hara Kebab ($3.95) – again deep fried spinach patties, these filled with potatoes, and everyone’s favoritie, Shikampur Kebab ($5.95), delicious and quite spicy (but not too) lamb patties. These came with two sauces – the green one tasted of cilantro, but I’m sure was a combination of many herbs, and the other was the more common Indian yogurt sauce.
What fun, what fun to try so many flavors in one meal. Our main dishes were equally yummy: we chose two entres cooked in the Tandoor, the clay oven. The Tandoori Murgh ($13.95) is the traditional Chicken Tandoor, with its bright red barbeque seasonings. We ordered this entre medium hot, which was not too hot even for my dull northern-European palate. The Frontier Kebab ($15.95) is a delicous rack of lamb cooked to tender perfection in the Tandoor and marinated in yogurt with interesting and mysterious spices. We also ordered a rice-based dish with shrimp, lamb and chicken with fried onions and nuts called Khajuraho Biryani ($18.95). It was a perfect side dish on our meat entres.
There was some food leftover, but not much. Not enough that the Kitchenless Couple felt any compulsion about fighting for the leftovers. After we split the bill, each couple owed $45 for this evening filled with tantalizing flavors.
Saffron is a simple room in a strip mall, so ambiance is not the attraction. But apparently we are not the first to discover the good food here. On this Tuesday evening I counted 37 customers having dinner here, seated at 10 tables.
I am going to have to be more serious about this eating out every night when we get back from Africa, or we won’t even get to Calhoun Road before the kitchen is done. I counted. I think in the 4 weeks since our kitchen was demolished, we have eaten "in" only 5 times, either restaurant leftovers or at someone’s house or at a Badger football game. That’s pretty amazing – especially considering that this gastonomic extravaganza is being supported by The Man I Used To Call "The Tightwad."
Kitchenless in Brookfield
I’m trying to decide between packing hiking boots or sandals. In Kruger National Park in South Africa, where we will be for the first week of our trip, you are not allowed to get out of your car except in camps and picnic areas, which I assume means that these areas are safe for humans to eat food, not areas at which humans ARE the picnic. Should I take shorts or capris? I don't look too hot in either one after a month of restaurant food. Do I take rechargeable batteries, a charger and a converter – or just pack a bunch of AA batteries for my digital camera. Okay, I’d probably take the converter anyway, to run my travel hair dryer, just in case I decide I need to look spiffy enough for the lions to chose me for their luncheon menu. It’s so much easier just to stay home - -no decisions and one can eat out, not be eaten.
Next on my Bluemound Road restaurant route was supposed to be Wong’s Wok, but I decided it would be okay to skip ahead when friends offered to eat out with us. The Saffron Indian Bistro was a perfect choice for six of us dining together who were all willing to try a variety of their tempting-sounding Indian dishes. We sipped a bottle of Barossa syrah ($25) while discussing the choices and eventually decided on three appetizers, a soup, two breads, and three main dishes.
The breads were both Naan, the Indian flatbread that is seasoned and baked in a clay oven. We tried the Rosemary Naan and the Garlic Basil Naan, which was exceptionally good. The soup was a yellow lentil soup called Dal. It was a mild, but bright yellow dish which many of us enjoyed over some of the basmati rice that came with our meal. For appetizers we tried Bihari Palak Pakoda ($3.95), which I’d describe as deep-fried spinach and rice patties, Hara Kebab ($3.95) – again deep fried spinach patties, these filled with potatoes, and everyone’s favoritie, Shikampur Kebab ($5.95), delicious and quite spicy (but not too) lamb patties. These came with two sauces – the green one tasted of cilantro, but I’m sure was a combination of many herbs, and the other was the more common Indian yogurt sauce.
What fun, what fun to try so many flavors in one meal. Our main dishes were equally yummy: we chose two entres cooked in the Tandoor, the clay oven. The Tandoori Murgh ($13.95) is the traditional Chicken Tandoor, with its bright red barbeque seasonings. We ordered this entre medium hot, which was not too hot even for my dull northern-European palate. The Frontier Kebab ($15.95) is a delicous rack of lamb cooked to tender perfection in the Tandoor and marinated in yogurt with interesting and mysterious spices. We also ordered a rice-based dish with shrimp, lamb and chicken with fried onions and nuts called Khajuraho Biryani ($18.95). It was a perfect side dish on our meat entres.
There was some food leftover, but not much. Not enough that the Kitchenless Couple felt any compulsion about fighting for the leftovers. After we split the bill, each couple owed $45 for this evening filled with tantalizing flavors.
Saffron is a simple room in a strip mall, so ambiance is not the attraction. But apparently we are not the first to discover the good food here. On this Tuesday evening I counted 37 customers having dinner here, seated at 10 tables.
I am going to have to be more serious about this eating out every night when we get back from Africa, or we won’t even get to Calhoun Road before the kitchen is done. I counted. I think in the 4 weeks since our kitchen was demolished, we have eaten "in" only 5 times, either restaurant leftovers or at someone’s house or at a Badger football game. That’s pretty amazing – especially considering that this gastonomic extravaganza is being supported by The Man I Used To Call "The Tightwad."
Kitchenless in Brookfield
The Nickel Faucet
I was going to tell you about eating at Saffron Indian Bistro, but first you have to hear today's story: the story of The Faucet.
So we’re at my OLD friend, Pat’s, for dinner last weekend, when she shows me her new kitchen faucet. She lives in a practically new house, and already she has had new countertops installed and a new faucet. She also has painted walls new colors and has new wall hangings. She’s into decorating. Her house is beautiful.
Pat raves about her new faucet. Buying this Polished Nickel Forte Model Faucet by Kohler With The Pull Down Sprayer is the best thing she’s ever done, maybe even better than marrying Her Man – no, probably not. Pat and My Man Who Knows What He Likes In All Things Having To Do With Design agree on what they consider tasteful. I have no taste. My house has all white walls. No curtains; white mini-blinds, and that was my doing, not The Man’s. It’s a good story though...
I have a friend of Danish heritage who had no curtains and white walls in all rooms of her two story farmhouse in New Berlin. I liked the simplicity of it. So one day I took down our HUGE and ugly living room drapes and rods, rolled them up in a ball and threw them on the floor of the garage. It took The Man With Taste, But Who Is Averse To Change a few days to notice this infringement upon his rights to decorate the house. Which was just enough time for me to drive my car over the drapes a few times. The Man grumbled when he noticed the change. And then he grumbled some more. I offered to have the drapes cleaned and reinstall them, but by then The Man didn’t insist. I think he too liked the simplicity. So there still are no curtains hanging anywhere in my house, except in The Man's office.
Anyway, it’s very unusual for me to have an opinion about decorating except that I don’t want to have an opinion. So here was Pat, the arbiter of good taste, telling me that her faucet was the best thing since lannon stone and now granite. So I took the faucet back to Home Depot that The Man and I had chosen. After returning it, I found out that Home Depot didn’t have one like Pat’s. Which, by the way, just happens to be an outrageous $200 more(!) expensive than the one we had chosen.
But now I had made up my mind. I wanted that Polished Nickel Forte Model Faucet by Kohler With The Pull Down Sprayer. The Home Depot guy sent me to a plumbing supply place in Waukesha called Schoenenwaterer, or some such. They didn’t have the Polished Nickel Forte Model Faucet by Kohler With The Pull Down Sprayer either, but they could order it and have it by Thursday – which is today. I ordered it. I paid for it. Did I also want the polished nickel soap dispenser and the air lock, she asked. Pat had raved about her soap dispenser as well, so I ordered that too (another $70 I think). I asked what the halumpka is an air lock. She asked if I had a dishwasher - duh! - like I’d put in granite countertops and not have a dishwasher - and she said this thingy is required by code. I ordered the polished nickel air lock too.
Today I had a Waukesha County Park and Planning Commission meeting at the county courthouse. On the way home – no, actually, I forgot and drove home before I remembered that I was to pick up the faucet in Waukesha on my way home. So I drove back to Schoennendrinkers or whatever, where they told me my faucet wasn’t in, but would be in tomorrow. And that the soap dispenser would not be in until Monday.
I will be in Africa trying to avoid becoming lion snacks by Monday. We leave on Saturday. I have several sizes of luggage and mosquito repellent and Janet Evanovich books strewn all over my bed. Like I have time tomorrow to run back to Schookindingers.
So WHY, you are thinking, didn’t I just tell Elizabeth, the super kitchen designer at Cabinet Werks, to find the faucet I want? I have no answer to that, except that I’m not used to having slaves I can boss around. At this point my blood pressure is 392 over 260, and I don’t give a rip if we ever have a sink, let alone the Polished Nickel Forte Model Faucet by Kohler With The Pull Down Sprayer.
Kitchenless in Brookfield
So we’re at my OLD friend, Pat’s, for dinner last weekend, when she shows me her new kitchen faucet. She lives in a practically new house, and already she has had new countertops installed and a new faucet. She also has painted walls new colors and has new wall hangings. She’s into decorating. Her house is beautiful.
Pat raves about her new faucet. Buying this Polished Nickel Forte Model Faucet by Kohler With The Pull Down Sprayer is the best thing she’s ever done, maybe even better than marrying Her Man – no, probably not. Pat and My Man Who Knows What He Likes In All Things Having To Do With Design agree on what they consider tasteful. I have no taste. My house has all white walls. No curtains; white mini-blinds, and that was my doing, not The Man’s. It’s a good story though...
I have a friend of Danish heritage who had no curtains and white walls in all rooms of her two story farmhouse in New Berlin. I liked the simplicity of it. So one day I took down our HUGE and ugly living room drapes and rods, rolled them up in a ball and threw them on the floor of the garage. It took The Man With Taste, But Who Is Averse To Change a few days to notice this infringement upon his rights to decorate the house. Which was just enough time for me to drive my car over the drapes a few times. The Man grumbled when he noticed the change. And then he grumbled some more. I offered to have the drapes cleaned and reinstall them, but by then The Man didn’t insist. I think he too liked the simplicity. So there still are no curtains hanging anywhere in my house, except in The Man's office.
Anyway, it’s very unusual for me to have an opinion about decorating except that I don’t want to have an opinion. So here was Pat, the arbiter of good taste, telling me that her faucet was the best thing since lannon stone and now granite. So I took the faucet back to Home Depot that The Man and I had chosen. After returning it, I found out that Home Depot didn’t have one like Pat’s. Which, by the way, just happens to be an outrageous $200 more(!) expensive than the one we had chosen.
But now I had made up my mind. I wanted that Polished Nickel Forte Model Faucet by Kohler With The Pull Down Sprayer. The Home Depot guy sent me to a plumbing supply place in Waukesha called Schoenenwaterer, or some such. They didn’t have the Polished Nickel Forte Model Faucet by Kohler With The Pull Down Sprayer either, but they could order it and have it by Thursday – which is today. I ordered it. I paid for it. Did I also want the polished nickel soap dispenser and the air lock, she asked. Pat had raved about her soap dispenser as well, so I ordered that too (another $70 I think). I asked what the halumpka is an air lock. She asked if I had a dishwasher - duh! - like I’d put in granite countertops and not have a dishwasher - and she said this thingy is required by code. I ordered the polished nickel air lock too.
Today I had a Waukesha County Park and Planning Commission meeting at the county courthouse. On the way home – no, actually, I forgot and drove home before I remembered that I was to pick up the faucet in Waukesha on my way home. So I drove back to Schoennendrinkers or whatever, where they told me my faucet wasn’t in, but would be in tomorrow. And that the soap dispenser would not be in until Monday.
I will be in Africa trying to avoid becoming lion snacks by Monday. We leave on Saturday. I have several sizes of luggage and mosquito repellent and Janet Evanovich books strewn all over my bed. Like I have time tomorrow to run back to Schookindingers.
So WHY, you are thinking, didn’t I just tell Elizabeth, the super kitchen designer at Cabinet Werks, to find the faucet I want? I have no answer to that, except that I’m not used to having slaves I can boss around. At this point my blood pressure is 392 over 260, and I don’t give a rip if we ever have a sink, let alone the Polished Nickel Forte Model Faucet by Kohler With The Pull Down Sprayer.
Kitchenless in Brookfield
Wednesday, October 3, 2007
Pat's meatloaf vs Burger King
This is my bamboo floor. Isn't it gorgeous? And I even figured out how to send a picture -- after a couple of tries.
A dinner at OLD friends’ house kept us off of Bluemound Road on Saturday evening. These are such OLD friends, that Pat was my maid of honor and I was her’s, back when we could call ourselves "maids." Or pretended we could. She had read my blog about Boston Market, and when we arrived she was chuckling about what she was serving for dinner. It was meat loaf, made to The Man’s specifications using his (and my mother’s) favorite recipe from Betty Crocker’s cookbook. What a treat! With corn on the cob, oven browned potatoes and homemade rhubarb cake for dessert, it was the perfect home-cooked meal.
I was in a rush on Bluemound Road this noon, dashing between the kitchen faucet shop in Waukesha and my haircut appointment at Phases. So I stopped for lunch in the next restaurant on my list: Burger King. Oh, dear. It is a run down, old, not-too-clean fast food spot with a menu like McDonald’s of twenty years ago. Lots of people must like this fare. There were senior citizen couples eating there and a steady stream of young workmen like those who have been putting up drywall and installing flooring in my kitchen. The menu is almost all burgers and other fried sandwiches. As I don’t usually do burgers – unless they are buffalo burgers off of my grill – I ordered a salad, so I could compare it to McDonald’s. Burger King has two salads (each $4.99). They are basically the same, but one has grilled chicken on it, the other deep fried chicken. I ordered the grilled. It had a large portion of nice, fresh-looking romaine lettuce, a few tasty slices of tomatoes, several of those small carrots (not cut up -- how do you eat them with a plastic fork?), some grated soft cheeses, and a grilled chicken breast -- in a bag. Really. The chicken comes separately, hot, in its own paper pouch. I dumped it from its bag onto my salad, poured on some of the lite Italian dressing I’d ordered and stirred up the salad with my plastic fork. That was a mistake. The lettuce beneath the nice green, crisp stuff on the top was brown and gooky (professional restaurant reviewer terminology used to describe ancient greens). I ate the chicken, the cheese (of course) and a few bites of greenery and then dashed off to visit the plumbing. Another mistake. No overflowing waste containers, but the sink was totally disgusting. In the twenty years this joint has been open, no one has ever scoured the sink.
I washed my hands at my favorite beauty shop and swore to go to McDonald’s for my future fast food salads.
Not wishing to mess up my spiffy hair by working in the garden, I decided I'd give you a blow-by-blow description of which items are necessities to keep available when you decide to go kitchenless in your house. It’s amazing how few items you really need, if you just eat dinner out every night. Looking over my supply of sunroom stuff today, I realized that I had kept available way more items than I will ever use. What was I thinking I would cook in a casserole dish? Over what was I planning to grate cheese for which I’d need the grater? The food scale? Do I need to know how many ounces of raisin bran I’m pouring into my styrofoam bowl?
Here’s that list of the additional stuff that I should have packed off into my basement storage dump with the mixmaster and the cookbooks: the slow cooker, the blender, the indoor grill (these items would be impossible to clean in the bathroom sink), corn on the cob holders, ketsup, dip mixes, soda crackers for soup, and all spices. Dill weed, for goodness sake? Tumeric?
The items I actually use are: wine, 4 wine glasses (in case you drop in to enjoy the graciousness of our bomb shelter/ sunroom), a corkscrew, plastic flatware, paper plates, vitamins, nuts, cereal, olive oil, vinegar, tuna, splenda, coffee and coffee maker, 2 coffee cups, one paring knife, and fruit. And a few pieces of real silverware, because I can’t seem to manage to eat my salad for lunch with a plastic fork without slopping it on myself or to make a sandwich with a plastic knife for The Man Who Plays Sheepshead On His Lunch Hour. Honestly, that’s IT. You can exist on these items, plus a few things in the refrigerator, like lunch meat, mayo, salad ingredients, milk, orange juice and bottled water. And maybe a little ice cream in the freezer to keep you out of Kopp’s on a daily basis.
Not Floor-less, but still
Kitchenless in Brookfield
Tuesday, October 2, 2007
My Man at Heinemann's
"Actually, it’s a pretty spry crowd here," The Man stated, as we were seated at Heinemann’s. "What’s your definition of ‘spry’?" I asked. "No walkers," he replied. That about sums up the clientele, including The Man and me, who were attracted to this classic Milwaukee spot for breakfast on Sunday morning.
You can see why Heinemann’s has such a good reputation. The menu is extensive, the food is reminiscent of Mom’s in the 50's (at least it’s what we wish hers was), the prices are reasonable, the place is cheerful and the service is very good. I noticed that our waitress was telling some of her customers about her new dorm room at college and how much she misses her parents. Smart girl. We would all leave a Big Tip after being told we are missed.
What a huge menu just for breakfast! I counted 6 different homemade pancakes, 10 egg items, plus 7 different omelets, 8 ‘healthy’ items and 6 French toasts and waffles. I would like to try them all. Let’s see - that would be 37 days of going out for breakfast. Dream on, woman.
I have ordered the baked oatmeal when I’ve come here for breakfast previously (with friends). It’s a great recipe. I’ve also enjoyed the "energy breakfast." I actually called Heinemann's and got the recipe years ago. It is dry oatmeal that’s mixed with vanilla yogurt and applesauce, refrigerated overnight, and then layered with granola and fruit. However, I was disappointed with it the last time I ordered it, because the fruit they chose was canteloupe, which doesn’t blend as well with oatmeal as berries or even pieces of apples or pears. Heinemann’s own cinnamon coffee cake is delicious too, and, made into French toast, it’s like having dessert in the morning.
But I have been desperate for eggs. Well.... okay. Not desperate. Hungry for an egg. We have eggs seldom when I am cooking, but now that I can’t cook, an egg seems like such a treat. That’s why I had to drag The Man Who Would Rather Not Waste Valuable Lawn Mowing Time going out to a restaurant for breakfast. I ordered ‘Susie’s Breakfast’ - a fried egg topped with cheese (that magic word), served on a patty of turkey breakfast sausage and toast. I wouldn’t rave about it. Boring white, unbuttered toast was the base of the pile. Perched on was a huge chunk of sausage, then the egg and cheese. But after I disassembled the pile, the egg with the slice of real cheese melted on it was just what I craved. The 50's Man ordered Heinemann’s Special: a mountain of eggs scrambled with bits of ham, lots of good, hot hash browns and 2 slices of whole wheat toast. Quite a meal.
"So, this is your kind of place: good cheap food," I commented. He popped up with, "Are you kidding? Seven bucks for breakfast?" Obviously this is not HIS idea of cheap. Isn’t it interesting that he wouldn’t have a clue how much a dozen of eggs costs in a grocery store, nor does he know, or care, that I buy the expensive, cage-free, organic eggs. Or that I’d have to buy a chunk of ham to make this breakfast, and we won’t even go into the inexpensive, but lots-of-work hash browned potatoes. The Man never complains that I’m spending too much on groceries. But give that money to a restaurant – now that’s a different kettle of fish. So I reminded him, oh, so gently (of course), of those costs. He then agreed, grudgingly, that this meal was probably worth it. "So are you actually willing to go out for breakfast occasionally even after I have a kitchen?" I asked, pushing him just a tad. The Man replied, "Maybe if we’re out of power – or it’s your birthday."
I made sure he saw me write that down.
Kitchenless in Brookfield
You can see why Heinemann’s has such a good reputation. The menu is extensive, the food is reminiscent of Mom’s in the 50's (at least it’s what we wish hers was), the prices are reasonable, the place is cheerful and the service is very good. I noticed that our waitress was telling some of her customers about her new dorm room at college and how much she misses her parents. Smart girl. We would all leave a Big Tip after being told we are missed.
What a huge menu just for breakfast! I counted 6 different homemade pancakes, 10 egg items, plus 7 different omelets, 8 ‘healthy’ items and 6 French toasts and waffles. I would like to try them all. Let’s see - that would be 37 days of going out for breakfast. Dream on, woman.
I have ordered the baked oatmeal when I’ve come here for breakfast previously (with friends). It’s a great recipe. I’ve also enjoyed the "energy breakfast." I actually called Heinemann's and got the recipe years ago. It is dry oatmeal that’s mixed with vanilla yogurt and applesauce, refrigerated overnight, and then layered with granola and fruit. However, I was disappointed with it the last time I ordered it, because the fruit they chose was canteloupe, which doesn’t blend as well with oatmeal as berries or even pieces of apples or pears. Heinemann’s own cinnamon coffee cake is delicious too, and, made into French toast, it’s like having dessert in the morning.
But I have been desperate for eggs. Well.... okay. Not desperate. Hungry for an egg. We have eggs seldom when I am cooking, but now that I can’t cook, an egg seems like such a treat. That’s why I had to drag The Man Who Would Rather Not Waste Valuable Lawn Mowing Time going out to a restaurant for breakfast. I ordered ‘Susie’s Breakfast’ - a fried egg topped with cheese (that magic word), served on a patty of turkey breakfast sausage and toast. I wouldn’t rave about it. Boring white, unbuttered toast was the base of the pile. Perched on was a huge chunk of sausage, then the egg and cheese. But after I disassembled the pile, the egg with the slice of real cheese melted on it was just what I craved. The 50's Man ordered Heinemann’s Special: a mountain of eggs scrambled with bits of ham, lots of good, hot hash browns and 2 slices of whole wheat toast. Quite a meal.
"So, this is your kind of place: good cheap food," I commented. He popped up with, "Are you kidding? Seven bucks for breakfast?" Obviously this is not HIS idea of cheap. Isn’t it interesting that he wouldn’t have a clue how much a dozen of eggs costs in a grocery store, nor does he know, or care, that I buy the expensive, cage-free, organic eggs. Or that I’d have to buy a chunk of ham to make this breakfast, and we won’t even go into the inexpensive, but lots-of-work hash browned potatoes. The Man never complains that I’m spending too much on groceries. But give that money to a restaurant – now that’s a different kettle of fish. So I reminded him, oh, so gently (of course), of those costs. He then agreed, grudgingly, that this meal was probably worth it. "So are you actually willing to go out for breakfast occasionally even after I have a kitchen?" I asked, pushing him just a tad. The Man replied, "Maybe if we’re out of power – or it’s your birthday."
I made sure he saw me write that down.
Kitchenless in Brookfield
Monday, October 1, 2007
Olive Garden - more good stuff
It was Friday evening in Brookfield. Trying to get a seat in a restaurant on Bluemound is like trying to get one at Lambeau on a Sunday afternoon. So the minute The Man came home from work, we hit Olive Garden at 5:15. That’s early even for Wisconsinites. The parking lot was almost empty. There were tables and more tables available. Still, when I stopped in the ladies room on the way in, though it has gorgeous tiles and nice fixtures, what do you suppose I found? Yep. An overflowing waste container, paper everywhere. Even George Webb’s has a policy that the waiters must clean up the bathrooms when their shift is done. So what’s with the Olive Garden? I mentioned it to a manager on our way out; she assured me she’d deal with it. But by then, I’d gone home.
Olive Garden is light and spacious, lots of room between tables. It is all tables; no booths. The Man Whose Legs Are Somewhat Shorter Than Kareem Abdul Jabar’s prefers a table. I prefer it when dining with four people (which we weren’t this evening – who else would eat so early?) because you aren’t bumping butts (and squashing purses) with anyone.
I glanced at the wine list, though this brightly lit restaurant does not seem the kind of place in which you'd lounge about with a glass of wine. There wasn’t a wine that was tempting, except for the bottle of Barolo for $65, which The Man Who Drinks Only White Wine And Actually Prefers Diet Pepsi would not have shared with me – and it would have been exceedingly unlikely that I could have talked him into oiling up The Over-Exercised Wallet so it would open that far without creaking. Olive Garden pushes an unknown house wine. I can’t judge it without trying it, and I wouldn’t waste The Man’s wallet on a glass of totally unknown, cheap wine.
The food, on the other hand, is very good. The Man Who Prefers Italian To Any Cuisine But Mine Or My Mother’s (you notice, I didn’t say His Mother’s) ordered spaghetti with meat sauce ($9.75). He said it was very comparable to his absolute favorite spaghetti, which is from Venice Club. I chose Grilled Shrimp Caprese ($15.50). It was a delicious pile of angel hair pasta with 10 large grilled shrimp piled on it and some tomatoes and mozzerella cheese in a garlic butter sauce. I ate half. There’s a good lunch for tomorrow. We shared a bowl of Olive Garden’s famous salad, though in my opinion (and that's what you get here) their tasty vinaigrette seems a waste on boring iceberg lettuce.
Though I drooled over the luscious looking dessert menu, I could hear my mother’s voice from the grave agreeing with The Tightwad that if I couldn’t clean my plate, I had no business blowing "good money" on dessert. So much for Black Tie Mousse Cake – Jeanne, it had your name on it – chocolate cheesecake with chocolate cake and chocolate mousse and oh, yum.
I’ve been forgetting to check out the bars in our last few establishments. Bonefish was the one I noticed. It had an attractive bar area with a TV for rooting for the Brewers-now-Badgers/Packers, and maybe Monsoon did too. But Olive Garden’s bar did not have TV and seemed to be just a dining area for smokers.
The restaurant manager stopped at our table to ask if all was well -- a gesture that I appreciate. She also gave us a survey to fill out and a four dollar coupon. The Man pocketed that puppy in a hurry, just in case I might ever insist on dining out again after the kitchen is done. Ever.
So I’m enjoying it while it lasts...
Kitchenless in Brookfield
Olive Garden is light and spacious, lots of room between tables. It is all tables; no booths. The Man Whose Legs Are Somewhat Shorter Than Kareem Abdul Jabar’s prefers a table. I prefer it when dining with four people (which we weren’t this evening – who else would eat so early?) because you aren’t bumping butts (and squashing purses) with anyone.
I glanced at the wine list, though this brightly lit restaurant does not seem the kind of place in which you'd lounge about with a glass of wine. There wasn’t a wine that was tempting, except for the bottle of Barolo for $65, which The Man Who Drinks Only White Wine And Actually Prefers Diet Pepsi would not have shared with me – and it would have been exceedingly unlikely that I could have talked him into oiling up The Over-Exercised Wallet so it would open that far without creaking. Olive Garden pushes an unknown house wine. I can’t judge it without trying it, and I wouldn’t waste The Man’s wallet on a glass of totally unknown, cheap wine.
The food, on the other hand, is very good. The Man Who Prefers Italian To Any Cuisine But Mine Or My Mother’s (you notice, I didn’t say His Mother’s) ordered spaghetti with meat sauce ($9.75). He said it was very comparable to his absolute favorite spaghetti, which is from Venice Club. I chose Grilled Shrimp Caprese ($15.50). It was a delicious pile of angel hair pasta with 10 large grilled shrimp piled on it and some tomatoes and mozzerella cheese in a garlic butter sauce. I ate half. There’s a good lunch for tomorrow. We shared a bowl of Olive Garden’s famous salad, though in my opinion (and that's what you get here) their tasty vinaigrette seems a waste on boring iceberg lettuce.
Though I drooled over the luscious looking dessert menu, I could hear my mother’s voice from the grave agreeing with The Tightwad that if I couldn’t clean my plate, I had no business blowing "good money" on dessert. So much for Black Tie Mousse Cake – Jeanne, it had your name on it – chocolate cheesecake with chocolate cake and chocolate mousse and oh, yum.
I’ve been forgetting to check out the bars in our last few establishments. Bonefish was the one I noticed. It had an attractive bar area with a TV for rooting for the Brewers-now-Badgers/Packers, and maybe Monsoon did too. But Olive Garden’s bar did not have TV and seemed to be just a dining area for smokers.
The restaurant manager stopped at our table to ask if all was well -- a gesture that I appreciate. She also gave us a survey to fill out and a four dollar coupon. The Man pocketed that puppy in a hurry, just in case I might ever insist on dining out again after the kitchen is done. Ever.
So I’m enjoying it while it lasts...
Kitchenless in Brookfield
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