Swaffle? Wandwich? Bruxie!

Fried Chicken Bruxie

“Chicken and waffles” – it’s no new thing. In fact, according to those time-honored historians of Wikipedia, it’s a dish that may have roots going back to Thomas Jefferson. Mmmm … tastes forefathery. You would think that this clever concoction couldn’t be improved upon, but I was recently turned on to a little outdoor restaurant in Orange that has given this dish, as well as the humble waffle, not just a makeover, but the culinary equivalent of a nip, tuck, and boob job; sure, it might not be natural, but that doesn’t mean it’s not really, really good.

Bruxie specializes in waffle sandwiches (called “bruxies”), both sweet and savory. Items on the menu include; the s’mores bruxie, the fried chicken bruxie (with an option to buy a side of maple syrup), the bruxie burger, and even a smoked salmon bruxie with fresh dill and cream cheese. When my friend told me about this place I had the reaction that any normal human being would have when presented with such a stroke of genius, I piddled myself with excitement. After a quick change of undies, I made plans to go there with my sister and brother-in-law, and a couple days later, I drove up to Orange.

Cream Soda

We ordered three bruxies and split them so that we could get a little sampling of the menu. Obviously, we got the chicken with maple, then the prosciutto with gruyere, and for dessert, lemon cream and berries. We also got their cane sugar sodas and waffle fries. After ordering we found a table, and a couple of minutes later, they came out with our sodas and fries. The cream soda was kind of like liquid cotton candy, only not overly sweet. It’s the kind of drink you want on a really hot day at the beach. The waffle fries were also very good, sprinkled with coarse salt and very slightly crunchy. Then the bruxies were served. We started with the prosciutto and gruyere. The cheese was melted on top of the salty cured ham, and it was topped off with fresh chives and Dijon mustard. This was the favorite bruxie of the meal. Next we had the chicken bruxie. I loved it. The chicken breast is buttermilk battered and fried, then drizzled with a little honey-chili sauce. The combination of the honey and maple with the big hunk of fried chicken breast immediately sent me to my happy place; it’s the perfect balance of sweet, salty, and crunchy. The dessert was also very good. The berries were fresh and sweet, and the lemon cream was slightly tart with a texture similar to hollandaise.

Berries & Lemon Cream

Bruxie is going to become one of my usual spots. The only problem is, I don’t think it’s sufficient for a really hungry person unless you order a couple (or more) of them, which could easily be done because each bruxie is in the 5-ish dollar range. That aside, it’s a great choice for a cheap, fast, and high quality meal as well as a truly unique dining experience.     

Lend Me Your Ears...I'm Hungry

Spicy Pig Ears

For any of you who know me, it will come as no surprise to hear that I enjoy my pork. I could easily rattle off a Forest Gump sized list of dishes featuring the unfortunate little piggy that cried “wee wee wee” all the way to the slaughter house, but for the sake of keeping this post somewhat brief, I’ll just assume that you trust me on that. I, like most pork lovers, derive a great deal of enjoyment out of all of your classic pig parts; bacon, ham, pork belly etcetera, but I by no means stop there. My fetish for the swine of the earth has a darker side. It goes beyond normal, past unusual, and continues deep into the realm of such porky perversions that only the most depraved of human beings would dare set foot. Ok, that’s an exaggeration, but I do like to nibble on those alternative bits that can be somewhat hard to find, unless of course, you know where to look.

In order to find these underappreciated morsels, one doesn’t need to go far, in fact they’re all right here in Orange County. One spot in particular offers one of my personal favorites, pig ear. The restaurant I’m referring to is A&J in Irvine. I need to make one disclaimer about this place. It does NOT cater to white people. So if you’re under the impression that P.F. Chang’s orange chicken is the epitome of “good Chinese,” I’d stay far, far away. For the rest of you, this place is the real deal. So authentic, in fact, that until recently (so I’ve been told), they didn’t even have English translations on the menu. I’ve wanted to try this place for a while. Not only do they have pig ear, but a smorgasbord of tasty treats; like thousand year egg, tripe in spicy red sauce, and tendon with garlic…excuse me while I wipe off the saliva that’s trickling down my chin. After a long wait, I finally got the chance to eat here tonight.

The verdict? It was everything that I hoped it would be. I ordered the thousand year egg, spicy pig ear, beef and tendon soup (Szechuan style), and some steamed pork dumplings. The thousand year egg, in all honesty, scared the bejesus out of me when I first saw it. It’s dark purple on the outside, and is slightly translucent, like jello. The yolk is a mixture of purple, green, and grey, and has the texture of a thick pudding. I picked up a big chunk with my chopsticks, fully expecting a fit of uncontrollable heaving to immediately follow contact with my mouth. I dropped it down the hatch and shockingly; no projectile vomiting; no sly attempt to spit it into a napkin; there wasn’t even a series of fake yummy noises while I gulped down a glass of water to rid my palate of the injustice it was forced to endure; it was, much to my surprise, delicious. Very mild soy flavor and with the exception of the gelatinous outside, much like the texture of a soft boiled egg.

Beef and Tendon Soup (that's a chunk of tendon)

Now that the experimentation was over for the night, I enjoyed my plate of pig ears, which are essentially a thin piece of crunchy cartilage surrounded by even more gelatinous fun. My only complaint is that they were far from anything resembling spicy, but nothing a little chili oil couldn’t fix. The soup was my ideal comfort food. The best part was the tendon. Unlike the tendon I’ve become accustomed to in pho restaurants, this wasn’t sliced ultra thin; it was chunky, in your face, "too hot for TV" connective tissue, and I couldn’t get enough. My only negative experience of the night was the steamed dumpling that I so foolishly ate the second it came to our table. It was blisteringly hot, the kind of hot that forced huge tears out of my eyes and turned my entire face blood red. To say the least, it hurt. Oral third degree burns aside, this was a great meal. I can’t wait to go back, and I urge anyone who has never had authentic Chinese/Taiwanese food to throw away that Pick Up Stix takeout box, and head over to A&J, pronto.

Au Restaurant Magnifique

Melisse. Where do I begin? This two Michelin starred restaurant, the only one in the LA area other than such Wolfgang Puck owned establishments as Spago, has haunted my dreams (literally, I’ve had dreams about it), and my taste buds since I first had the privilege of dining there on my 21^st birthday, and again on my parents’ anniversary a couple of weeks later (What? Like I’m gonna let them go to a TWO MICHELIN STAR place without me!). I can say with absolutely no hesitation that Melisse provided me with the two best meals of my life.  They were so good, in fact, that I’m going to take the time to review every single dish I’ve eaten there.

First, the amuse bouche. Being summer, Head Chef Josiah Citrin was in a tomato kind of mood.  He gave us three separate, but equally good dishes, all showcasing the full spectrum of tomato-ness that one can experience. We were served cucumber and tomato gelee; a cherry tomato wrapped in a thin layer of goat cheese which was then rolled in crushed pistachios; and what I can only describe as a pouch of tomato juice, which you place in your mouth, and the second you apply pressure to it with your tongue, the thin skin breaks and it explodes, releasing a rush of intense tomato-y perfection. These three amuse bouches were repeated the second time we came here, and I loved them just as much on round two.

Now that my bouche had been sufficiently amused I was ready for my first course. I scanned the tasting menu and saw one word that made my mouth water and my pupils dilate… truffles. The dish was lobster bolognese with freshly shaved black truffle. (Remember when I said I had dreams about eating here? This was the dish I dreamed about)  If you think it sounds good, multiply your expectations by about a thousand, and you might get some idea about just how mind-numbingly delicious it is. The second time I ate here I opted to try something new for my first course. I saw another word that triggered a similar physiological response…Uni. This dish –  grilled cuttlefish with uni and sea urchin broth, though I have never dreamed about it – was equally as good as the lobster bolognese, and if you take into account the wine pairing (2003 Chateux Talbot Caillou Blanc), which has become without question my favorite white wine, it might even be better.

My second course was the same on both occasions— sweetbreads. I love, and I mean LOVE sweetbreads. There’s nothing quite like a big hunk of thymus gland to make your day a little brighter. Before going to Melisse however, every sweetbread I had eaten was battered and fried, which is good, don’t get me wrong, but you don’t get two Michelin stars by throwing crap in a fryolator and dumping some beef jus on top. No my friends, these sweetbreads were…special. They were roasted in enough butter to make Julia Child blush and served with a little bit of ever-so-slightly-cooked tomato, adding just the right amount of sweetness and acidity, and some bread to sop up the pool of that heavenly liquid left behind when the sweetbreads were all gone. Chef Josiah, you’re a naughty boy.  

I’m only going to focus on one of the main courses I had at Melisse.  Not to belittle the other; it  was perhaps the best chicken dish I’ve ever eaten, but it was nothing compared to the lamb chop with lamb sausage and “ratatouille” that I ordered on my second dinner there. Besides, who cares about chicken when I can describe the perfectly cooked carcass of Mary’s ex-school companion? Sadly, there are no words in the English language that can perfectly convey just how good this dish is. It’s beyond impeccable; it surpasses perfection; it surmounts the sublime.  In order to have even a modicum of understanding as to how magnificent this dish is, one has to taste it for him or herself…any description I provide, no matter how well-worded or passionate, will unavoidably fall short.

Happy endings? Yes please! No, not that kind, I’m talking about dessert you pervert! The first dessert I had at Melisse is perfectly described just by saying its name, “chocolate chocolate chocolate.” Three small chocolate desserts on one plate makes for one of the richest things that has ever graced my tongue; it’s like licking Donald Trump without the aftertaste. The second dessert I had was the toffee pudding. This is the single best dessert that I have ever eaten, looked at, or heard distant rumors of. Nothing even comes close.

Everything about Melisse is, for me at least, the ideal restaurant. The food is indescribable, the ambiance is elegant yet surprisingly laid back, and the staff is personable and unpretentious. I need to make a special mention of the Sommelier, Brian Kalliel. The self-proclaimed “professional drinker” came to our table and personally poured and described every single wine pairing. He was hilarious, extremely knowledgeable, and has a way of interacting with you that makes you feel as though you are the only person there. Melisse is without question my favorite restaurant in Southern Californa. From the food, to the atmosphere, to the service, Melisse is much more than just a simple a restaurant, it’s an experience.

Jose, Can You See?

Tacos Jalisco is everything I want in a Mexican restaurant. The food is great, the staff is wonderful (shout out to my friend and usual waiter Jose), and the ambiance is that of the stereotypical dive. I love this place.

The first thing about Tacos Jalisco that grabbed my attention is a sign on the front window, "Menudo." I believe it can be roughly translated "nectar of the gods." (OK not really but it should be.) Stock, tripe, hominy, and a variety of toppings make for a very tasty soup, and a very happy boy. After ordering that the first few times I ate here, I decided to branch out and I got the Cornish hen. Best decision I've ever made. This dish is so good I'd slap my own grandmother in the face just for a taste. The little birdie is deep fried, chopped up, and mixed with some kind of spicy sauce (I don't know what it is and I really don't care, I just want more of it.) It's served with rice and beans and some corn tortillas. Everything else I've tried, from the tacos de lengua to the salsa verde, has been phenomenal as well. In fact, my one and only complaint about tacos jalisco is that I have to drive thirty minutes to get there.

Now that I've covered the food, I have to brag on Jose some. He goes out of his way to make you feel like family. He sits down and with you, tells jokes, throws in the occasional beer on the house, and once even sent some flowers home to my mom just because he could. He is one of, if not the best waiter I have had at any, and I mean ANY restaurant. Even if the food was just ok, I would still come here purely because of the service that I consistently receive from Jose and the rest of the staff.

Haven...or Hell?

Oh Haven Gastropub. I wanted so badly to love you. Beer, gastropub fare, funky desserts; you offer everything I love under one roof, but none of that matters if it isn't executed well, and sadly Haven  falls short.

The food is conceptually sound. The usual pub foods with an upscale twist, along with some more unusual pub foods (such as lamb neck which has been the special a few of the times that I've gone) Despite the nice concept behind the food, it just misses being good. My biggest problem with Haven is that, I assume due to how busy it always is, my food has consistently come to my table cold at worst and room temp at best. The flavors are good, nothing to write home about, but good, and there is enough diversity on the menu that everyone could find something they want.  So, it isn't a total suck-fest; it just didn't wow me, and for the prices you pay, I expect to be wowed.

Aside from the food, there are some other big problems I have with this place. It's loud. I don't mean a little loud, I mean Regis Philbin would have trouble getting a word in loud, so it's very hard to carry on a conversation. The staff is my other big problem. Some, of the people that work there are extremely curt, and one time in particular I went in with my family for some drinks and the hostess very rudely told us that we had to order food or get out. Last time I checked, it wasn't uncommon for people to go to a bar for drinks, but apparently being classified as a "gastropub" means you're above that.

The one thing about Haven that falls under the realm of exceptional is the apple tart with blue cheese ice cream. I have actually gone all the way to Orange (from Mission Viejo) just to get this dessert...it's perfect.

Over all, Haven isn't really bad; it's just not particularly good. I think if you're going to grab some drinks and maybe an appetizer or dessert it's worth the trip, but for dinner? I'd save your money for a place where the food is hot and the service is good.

"Pho"n with Noodles

I'm sitting with some good friends at a small table in a crowded, slightly loud restaurant.  I'm starving. Within seconds all of my senses are bombarded at once. The smell of beef stock simmering in the kitchen permeates the air, I can hear the slurping of noodles, and on all sides I see huge bowls of everything right in the world being devoured by those fortunate enough to have been in front of me in line. Salivation soon follows. The waiter comes to take our order and I am still trying to decide between the ox tail and the number one (tripe, rare beef, brisket, and beef tendon) I go with the number one and in a few short minutes...bliss.

This, in a nutshell, describes my first experience at Thanh Binh II. I was no stranger to pho, but my previous experiences were mediocre at best... there's not much of a Vietnamese population in South Carolina where I used to live, and the pho that you could find was catered to white people who (like me) had never eaten the good stuff. But sitting there with a big, steaming bowl of noodle soup, loaded with enough chili paste to make the devil himself break out in a sweat, I knew that I could never go back. I was hooked.

Only one downside: Every time I've gone to Thanh Binh II, I have felt like I've been gypped on the amount of protein I get in my pho, particularly the tripe and tendon. There tends to be a lot of rare beef, a little less brisket, a low to moderate amount of tripe, and next to no tendon, which is a problem for me because the gelatinous, melt in your mouth, oh so perfectly squishy tendon is my favorite part. Other than that, it's great, and whenever I get a craving for pho, this is the first place on my list. (Oh, and in case you were wondering, the next time I went I got the ox tail, it's delicious)

When Harry Met...Me?

To say that Harry's Deli is merely  "good" would be like calling Mother Teresa "a nice old lady."  Not only is it BY FAR the best Deli I've found in Southern California, it's the best I've found outside of Manhattan.

Let's start with the food. Everything is the epitome of fresh; they use only the best ingredients.  Everything is cooked perfectly, and my order is always right, which is a little shocking to me considering how busy they get during their lunch hour. One of my favorite sandwiches (though I have never had anything on the menu that I didn't like) is the Chicken Di. Let me put it this way, if God wanted a chicken sandwich, I can say with some confidence that this is the one he would order. It's like a big pile of meaty, cheesy, aoili-y goodness, and one of the few sandwiches I actually find myself craving. Other favorites of mine are the meatball sub, the Reuben (with home-made 1000 Island... ya they actually make the stuff) and the pulled pork. There's even a choice for all of the health nuts and weirdos (a.k.a vegetarians) out there, "The Gardener", and while I tend to lean more toward the carnivorous persuasion, I have to admit, it's delicious.

The staff is almost as great as the food! They greet every single person that walks through the door, (regardless of how packed they are) with a smile, and once they get to know you, they greet you by name. In fact, Harry, Mercy, and the whole staff are so good at what they do that going to Harry's feels more like going to a friend's house than a restaurant. Harry's really is one of those rare gems that has the whole package, and I highly recommend it to anyone who likes exceptional food and wonderful people.

Bug-ger

There's the little fella!

I want to start by saying that I'm not too big on Pei Wei and other places like it in general. This is Southern California; there are countless great Chinese (and other Asian) restaurants that don't put corn syrup in every sauce and don't serve you what I can only assume is Uncle Ben's rice.  So, while there may be a smidge of bias in this review, my experience here was reprehensible, and had it occurred somewhere else, I would be writing it just as harshly...

I went to Pei Wei with some friends today for lunch. First, one of the soda machines had flat soda water, which wasn't that big of a deal (it happens), but what came later in the meal was a big deal...a big six legged deal. Two of my friends ordered a salad to split. After they had eaten half of it, one of them looked down and saw a dead roach sitting on her greens. We asked one of the employees to send over the manager, and watched as he told her about our table. The manager then looked at us, walked in the other direction, and went into the back room for about five minutes before making her way over to our table. When we told her, and showed her the bug, she looked at us and said (and I quote) "I'm so sorry, can I take that back and get you something else?" Are you kidding me? How about give us a refund...she almost ate a freakin roach! When we declined, she disappeared again and came back with some gift certificates (again, no refund, but gift certificates) To top it all off, she began to defend the fact that there was a roach in the food: (another direct quote) "When you use fresh produce like we do, sometimes there are bugs in it.  It just happens." BY FAR the worst excuse for a critter in a meal I've ever heard. I'm pretty sure that's why some restaurants wash their produce BEFORE serving it!

I'm looking forward to using those gift certificates though...I hear the spicy spider stir-fry is delicious.