Afghan Kabob, Culinary Addiction

While getting a better feel for my neighbourhood in Chicago — Logan Square — and surrounding neighbourhoods, I passed by an Afghani restaurant that isn’t far from my favourite Algerian restaurant and a seafood market that I frequent. I had become a fan of Afghani food years ago when I started Chicago Alphabet Soup and was surprised that out of all the Middle Eastern restaurants in the city, there weren’t more Afghani restaurants. Well, it appears that I had not been looking hard enough. After finding Afghan Kabob at 4040 W. Montrose Street, I shall have to embark on a quest to find some sister restaurants.

Afghan Kabob

Spacious and bright on the inside, Afghan Kabob is not big on interior pizzazz. Since my appetite takes precedence over all else, flavour is what I expect once I take a seat. And flavour is exactly what I got. I had used Kabul House, the first Afghani restaurant I had gone to, as my benchmark and was prepared to be let down. The biggest letdown was having eaten too much and wanting more with no more room for additional indulgence.

Chicken Vegetable Soup

Chicken Vegetable Soup

For starting, there was a complimentary bowl of chicken vegetable soup. Let’s be clear that this was neither Campbell’s nor Progresso soup. Some may argue the observation, but when the tongue doesn’t feel weighted with salt, you know you are having something that took time to prepare in the restaurant’s kitchen, not in a colossal industrial vat.  The soup is not overburdened with chicken, so the broth and the vegetables stand out more.

Appetizer Sampler

Appetizer Sampler

Wanting to try several small dishes, I opted for a round of four appetizers. There were butternut squash, boranee baunjan, vegetarian mantoo, and beef mantoo, all served over lettuce and topped with yogurt. I forced myself to spend the rest of the day alone so that I would not drive my friends crazy talking about how delicious the butternut squash was. That and the wow factor in the bloom of flavour from the eggplant in the boranee baunjan were so addictive that I could have eaten those two only.

Although the beef mantoo was lighter than expected, those dumplings were a big hit and the vegetarian mantoo was a bigger hit. Add to that the homemade Afghan bread that came with the platter, there was very little washing required of the plate after I went all around the plate with the bread. I wondered why it took me so long to find my way to Afghan Kabob.

Chicken Korma Chalaw

Chicken Korma Chalaw

In a few of my recent posts, I mentioned that I have been doing CrossFit training so that I can add a few pounds. Yes, I know that some people are focused primarily on losing weight while I am going in the opposite direction. But my bulking up requires me to have a little more protein intake in my diet. So, I have started having more allowances for chicken. Being a lover of spicy food, I ordered chicken korma chalaw with rice. The spicy tomato-based gravy with succulent cubes of chicken and rice was absolutely divine to the taste buds. Middle Eastern food may pack a flavourful punch, but it is rarely spicy, so the fact that the chicken korma chalaw came spicy without killing the senses in my tongue made the dish a fantastic lunch option.

Those in the metropolitan Chicago area will find that the triangle section of Elston Avenue, Montrose Street, and Pulaski Avenue houses a mixture of North Africa and the Middle East. It could feel like being abroad. The beauty of that cultural diversity is that the food in the restaurants and small cafes retain its authenticity. The restaurants I have gone to in that area of Irving Park have been most addictive not only from a culinary aspect but also from an inviting standpoint. Any restaurant that welcomes you without pretense and leaves you wanting to return for more of its kitchen delights deserves repeat visits. I shall see you again, Afghan Kabob.

Afghan Kabob on Urbanspoon

Turquoise Café, A Little Turkish Spice

Turquoise Café

Middle of the week and I was reviewing the listing of ethnic restaurants that I have blogged so far. I realized that Thai, Indian, Italian, Latin American, Mediterranean, and Middle Eastern food are abundant in Chicago. And I wondered what I had possibly missed. Then I realized that not far from where I live is a swanky stretch of boutique shops that has some culinary surprises. And what should I find while wandering around after work but a Turkish restaurant. Turquoise Café at 2147 W. Roscoe Street is one that was new to me, although it has served Roscoe Village for several years, so the intent of the experience was to enjoy it as a brand new discovery.

Arriving well before sunset, I sat outside to enjoy the nice weather. Warm bread and a spread of eggplant, red peppers, and olive oil came to the table. Turquoise Café has a neon sign in the window that says, WE BAKE OUR OWN BREAD. They do a superb job and the light smokiness of the spread was a nice start. Where I knew the dining experience was going to be top was with the diver sea scallops served with lettuce leaves shaped to hold mini tomato salads and situated atop dollops of creamed avocado wasabi. I have had tender scallops at numerous restaurants. However, cutting through the scallops at Turquoise Café was like slicing through a cloud. You would not think something so cloud-like would burst with flavour either, the way those seasoned scallops tasted. My next starter was a bowl of creamy lentil soup. If I sound like a broken record when I say that Middle Eastern and Mediterranean restaurants serve the best lentil soup, I apologize, but anyone who slurps a bowl of the lentil soup will corroborate my statement.

Turquoise Café, Collage

Turquoise Café, Collage

Having spent the July 4th weekend feasting with African and Caribbean friends, I did not partake of the American favourites like barbecue ribs, hamburgers, hot dogs,  macaroni and cheese, corn on the cob, and Miller Genuine Draft beer. Coming down from my high of curry chicken, jerk fish, red snapper, rice and beans, waakye, jolloff rice, and homemade ginger beer, I was in a rare mood to deviate from my pescatarian diet, as if I haven’t done that enough. I ordered lamb chops over a medley of vegetables consisting of potatoes, brussel sprouts, broccoli, mushrooms, and asparagus tips. Greeks are not the only ones to prepare lamb worthy of wanting a second dish and Turquoise Café produces a plate of tender lamb even when it has been requested to be cooked well. After delighting myself completely with the succulent chops, I told the server that I would have dessert and coffee, but required some time to pause. When the wait was over, I had kazandibi with Turkish coffee. Leave baklava for the non-adventurers. The creamy custard of the kazandibi topped with a light caramelized sugar crust and further topped with a scoop of vanilla ice cream and then garnished with berries is a “must” dessert option.

Turquoise Café has a nice interior, for those who brim with happiness over ambience. For those who are aware that Chicago has eight months of winter that require most dining experiences to occur inside, take advantage of the outdoor seating in the midst of Roscoe Village and indulge yourself to satisfaction on some delectable Turkish menu items. One thing to be aware of is that food is placed to order. While many may think that some items should arrive at the table post haste, they don’t, and you may want to have restaurants you visit in the future take their time preparing your dishes. For my dining experience, I was expecting a bill somewhat bloated considering all that I ordered. I was pleasantly  surprised. So, for lip-smacking food, top service, and a reasonable price, I left sated and with intentions to return in the future. I could use a little Turkish spice in my life.

Turquoise on Urbanspoon

Starting 2014 Spicy, The Indian Garden

Daal Soup

Daal Soup

Calendar year 2013 went out on a good note for me. I brought my weight back down to a manageable 205 pounds. My physician was rather happy about that. Considering all of the food I ate last year, I am surprised that I got down to 205 only. However, it seems that I may have to keep my weight in the range of 200 to 205 pounds. My weight gain ironed out all potential wrinkles that were starting at the corner of my eyes, under my eyes, and across my forehead. Now all I have to do is maintain a low stress level to ensure those wrinkles don’t creep up on my face. My glucose level is still a concern and that feeds into my New Years Absolution: no desserts. Ugh! Where my health is concerned, I won’t run around whining, “It’s so hard eliminating sweets from my diet.”

Naan

Naan

This year started out with Chicago being subjected to sub-zero temperatures. We had a week and a few days of feeling like the city should have been renamed Chiberia. I dressed in my construction man outfit for warmth. Let me be the first to say that construction coveralls are a winter blessing. In addition to the arctic freeze in Chicago, I had to travel some for work. Nothing beats traveling to another city with warmer temperatures and then wind up bitter when having to return to bitter Chicago. The good news is the assurance that some restaurant’s doors would be opened for business and I would enjoy some culinary satisfaction inside where the heat is no doubt turned up to at least 75 degrees. Such was the case when I trudged through snow, across ice, and through downtown wind tunnels — between our numerous skyscrapers — to The Indian Garden at 518 W. Harrison Street in Chicago’s Near South Loop.

Baigan Bharta

Baigan Bharta

I had been to The Indian Garden for lunch with some colleagues during autumn of 2013 and was slightly nonplussed. I love Indian food in all of its spicy glory. The lunch buffet was for the milder palate. Sigh. I smiled as I spooned a bit of this and a bit of that on my plate. A few month later, I returned to get take-away after work. When I got home and devoured a plate of bhindi masala, choley, and shrimp achari, I swore off going to The Indian Garden for their lunch buffet. My personal pact was to go for the after-five fare. And because the take-away was so blooming tasty, I returned for an in-house dining experience.

Daal soup. Baigan bharta. Curry shrimp. Naan. Masala Chai. WOW!!!

Curry Shrimp

Curry Shrimp

The daal soup was a perfect winter soup. There was, of course, the spicy factor that draws me to Indian restaurants. The beauty of this soup was that I didn’t get just a cup of it. No, I had a bowl of the hearty dish and a faint hint of heat rising from my scalp. Put a footnote there. I love spicy food. For my entrées, I really showed how much of an appetite I have. I ordered baigan bharta and curry shrimp. To date, I have not been to any Indian restaurant that had baigan bharta that made me want to run out into the street to meet my match with a renegade Chicago taxi drive. The creamed eggplant at The Indian Garden ranks high on my list of dishes that everyone should try. The curry shrimp left me speechless. As I am getting back to having a serious pescatarian diet, the shrimp curry was a cacophony of flavour, but I felt as though I had not ordered enough. So, I ordered extra to take home. With the basmati rice and tandoori naan, I was Gino in the Sky with Curry. And for my wrap-up, I ordered a masala chai that I drank without any sugar. Yes, it was that good.

Baigan Bharta, Basmati Rice, Curry Shrimp, Naan

Baigan Bharta, Basmati Rice, Curry Shrimp, Naan

The Indian Garden has one other location: 2546 W. Devon Avenue in West Rogers Park. In the same manner as the Near South Loop location, the food is outstanding and the service is remarkable. The location at 518 W. Harrison Street is more intimate than the West Rogers Park spot. From my experiences visiting each, and discounting the first visit for the lunch buffet, I cannot come up with a reason to miss out on all the delectable menu items that your taste buds can endure. Bernadine at 2546 W. Devon Avenue, Stephen at 518 W. Harrison Street, the staff at both sites, and the flavourful dishes that come forth from their kitchens make The Indian Garden a constant destination — or rather a constant destination for me and my constant hunger.

Masala Chai

Masala Chai

Indian Garden on Urbanspoon

Top 10 Jaunts for 2013

December has arrived and it is during this time that I always ponder whether there was something I had intended to do between January and the end of November, but somehow never got around to doing. I swear time went slower when I was a kid. The summers dragged on forever — and I didn’t complain. Christmas break felt like a whole month. School was the equivalent of endless punishment. Fast forward to age 45 and each year feels compressed from a full twelve months to about seven. However, I still get to partake of my favourite hobby second to photography: eating. And for the end of 2013, I decided that I would do something different — a list of Top 10 Jaunts for 2013. So, this post will be dedicated to the restaurant discoveries that tempted my palate. Since I have already written extensive blog postings for each, I will only present highlights.

10. Pasteur
I had spent a lot of time in the Edgewater neighbourhood during the summer. My favourite Indian restaurant is there. One day while walking down Broadway, I happened to see a building full of Chicago architecture with a menu in the window. Having passed the building many times, it looked too fancy to register as a restaurant, but I was glad to have been in a casual mood the one Saturday I stopped and took notice of it. The food was outstanding and the service was top. From the interior, one can easily get the sensation of being in Europe, but it’s the Vietnamese influence in the food that pops. With the menu items supposedly having a French and Vietnamese fusion, I didn’t detect a heavier French accent. It was the Vietnamese flavours that stood out more. In the future I shall return for more good food and great service, and hopefully see if there is more balance to the menu.

Pasteur, Collage
9. Freddy’s Pizzeria and Grocery
A great friend had sent a text message to me to prompt me about Freddy’s while I was at an Italian restaurant on the Far North Side. She had already enlightened me to a few cafes and restaurants in Berwyn, so I trusted her recommendation. She gave me the formal introduction to Freddy’s Pizzeria and Grocery. This is a small grocery store with an annex built on to the side of the market for those who wish to sit and eat without having to rush home to devour the food. There is authenticity to every dish that puts a lot of big box Italian restaurants to shame. It’s evident when you enter the door and see the long line that stretches from the door, to the back of the grocery store, all along the counter, and up to the cash register. I think the trip out to Cicero is worth it, but I advise you to be prepared because staring at the selection of delicious food behind the counter may throw you into a food frenzy.

Freddy's Pizza and Grocery

8. Silom 12
Grub Hub is a beautiful thing and a glorious thing during the winter when delivery is a viable option. I had tried Silom 12 numerous times as a take-away choice when I was too lazy to operate my own stove. Not once was I dissatisfied with what I had ordered. Well, while I was having my hallway bathroom remodelled this summer, I needed a moment to escape from the sound of drills, saws, and banging. Where should I find myself but at Silom 12 for a proper sit-down. And oh was I pleased beyond words. Logan Square is one of America’s hottest neighbourhoods and with the addition of restaurants like Silom 12, it’s easy to understand why. One would think that the price per dish may make the cha-ching sound. No, the price, service, and food make a harmonious sigh of satisfaction. Well, let me take that back and make it personal. I made a harmonious sigh of satisfaction with each bite of food I took and believe me when I say that I ate a lot.

Silom 12

7. Masouleh
When I first moved to Chicago, I spent a little over a year in Northbrook. There was only so much that I could take of the sound of crickets. New York City had spoiled me. So I moved into Chicago proper and my first Chicago apartment was in Rogers Park. At that time Rogers Park had a heavy Mexican influence. Fast forward to 2013 and there seems to be more diversity gracing the Rogers Park landscape. One addition to the neighbourhood is Masouleh. I had met up with some friends after work one Friday evening and had fallen in love with the place after only having some herbs, cheese, and radish put on the table. It was authentic and when I say authentic I mean the flavours popped the way I remember Iranian food tasting. I don’t mean plain hummus and pita bread either. I had to return for my very own adventure and by the time I had finished a parfait glass of Persian ice cream, I was typing my initial blog post from the moon.

Masouleh

6. Kabul House
The first restaurant I went to when I started Chicago Alphabet Soup was Kabul House. It was at a different address. Months had passed and then a few years went by. When I had made plans to return, it was closed. Then there was a cloud of sadness because I remembered the food being so delicious. My friend and I were at the restaurant for hours, slowly taking care of the fine dining that came from the kitchen. Well, I was informed that Kabul House had opened at a new location. I had added it to my list and during Memorial Day, I was so glad that I went. Let’s just say that I rolled my eyes and I don’t mean as in disgust or to be cheeky. Oh, off with the person’s head who said that it’s never as good as the first time. It was better the second time around.

Kabul House

5. Pannenkoeken Cafe
If anyone ever starts rattling off the old adage that the best meal of the day is breakfast, tell them to put a footnote on that and immediately rush to Pannenkoeken Cafe. I am not one for eating lunch or dinner delights from Germany because they are heavy on the stomach. Not quite as sleep-inducing as Eastern European food, but you will drag afterwards. A German breakfast, on the other hand, causes the angels to sing. Pannenkoeken Cafe is a small cafe, so getting there early is advisable. Now, although the breakfast isn’t heavy on the belly, it is filling. So, you have to go on several visits. You have to. You must! Don’t even think about The Original Pancake House. Make your own pancakes at home, but go to Pannenkoeken Cafe for a proper breakfast that will give you a perpetual smile.

Pannenkoeken

4. Den Den Eritrean Restaurant
Rogers Park has developed a bit of magnetism to it thanks to the addition of a few ethnic eateries. There are several Ethiopian restaurants in Edgewater. While going to Masouleh one evening, my great friend who had recommended Freddy’s to me pointed Den Den Eritrean Restaurant out to me. I don’t think I had taken a few steps before I retrieved my smart phone and blocked some time for a visit. I had never thought of any Eritrean representation in Chicago’s culinary landscape. Everything about Den Den was top-notch. While I can’t say that Eritrean and Ethiopian are the same, the food preparation, serving, and method of eating the food are the same. However, Den Den takes the top spot among the Ethiopian restaurants I’ve been to in Chicago. And I’ve been to all — except one that I zipped pass while speeding up Ashland Avenue.

Den Den

3. De-Jred Fine Jamaican Cuisine
Skokie has a small section in a business district that isn’t on a busy street. Had I not gone to Kabul House to renew my food vows, I never would have stumbled across a restaurant that has some cultural significance to me. When I saw the word “Jamaican” flash in front of my eyes, the return to the small stretch of Oakton Avenue was mandatory. The saltfish and ackee, callalou, rice and beans, beef patty, and june plum juice reminded me so much of my paternal grandmother’s kitchen that I spent almost every Saturday at De-Jred Fine Jamaican Cuisine. And when I didn’t get back during a Saturday visit, there were occasional trips for take-away throughout the week. Certainly when you find something with a cultural attachment, it’s hard to detach.

De-Jred Fine Jamaican

2. Roka Akor
Earlier in the year, I wanted to try something new in the downtown vicinity. Most restaurants in downtown fall into the tourist trap or “big box” categories. You go and then tell your friends that you had gone to such-and-such restaurant because that’s where all of the Joneses had gone before you. But Roka Akor is where you go when you want to keep up with the Williamses. I was blown away on the first visit with the good fortune of having a server who had hit the mark on every menu choice offered as an option. There wasn’t one dish to be placed in front of me that I wasn’t raving about by the second bite. Getting to sit at the robata grill was a splendid option because I got to chat with the sous chef and the sashimi chef. You can’t do that at just any restaurant, and certainly not at a tourist trap or “big box” eatery.

Roka Akor

1. Basil Leaf Cafe (Tie)
Coming up with the number one spot was hard — and I’m not saying that just to have something to say. I started the year off with Basil Leaf Cafe being the first ethnic restaurant I was sampling. This was also the first time that I had decided to have a degustation without ordering from the menu. I trusted my server to make all recommendations and bring to the table a soup, a salad, two entrées, and a dessert. Basil Leaf Cafe had raised the bar up through the clouds and even on return visits, I was always in awe of how I could simply state that I liked seafood and vegetarian dishes, hand the menu back to the server, and let him or her bring to the table culinary choices that had indicated that they apparently listen to their dining patrons.

Basil Leaf Cafe

1. Yuzu Sushi and Robata Grill (Tie)
I don’t know where to begin with Yuzu. This was another hard decision because I wanted there to be ten restaurants on my Top 10 list. It turned out to be eleven because Basil Leaf Cafe and Yuzu Sushi and Robata Grill were deserving of the top position. My first visit to Yuzu had moved the expectation bar way up. No one disappears behind a door and comes back with a delectable dish. The sushi station and the robata grill are on full display, so you know exactly what you are getting. I was curious as to how a sushi bar could have a constant flow of patrons early in the day on a summer Saturday. It was after the first bite of some grilled eggplant from the robata grill that I understood why. Based on all of the robata grill items and sushi that my server had brought to the table, I honestly believe I could have won the lottery if I had asked her for the winning numbers. Everything was delicious.

Yuzu Sushi and Robata Grill

I am hoping that 2014 will not be as busy and fast as 2013 has been. Yes, there is the saying that you should take time to smell the roses. But when there is the aroma of some inviting food wafting from the kitchen, put those roses in a vase and go see what the source of the aroma is. I know that I shall do just that in the New Year. I have to come up with ten more new restaurants for 2014. That means weight gain. Oh wait, no, that means I had better get started coming up with a list of eateries to sample throughout 2014.

And at this time, I would like to thank all who have been following Chicago Alphabet Soup and who have been giving me encouragement. Enjoy the holiday and may the New Year bring you joy and continued peace. And if none of that, then may some server bring you a dish that makes you sing a happy song.

Return to Persia — Masouleh

Masouleh Restaurant

Several week ago a former colleague — who I catch up with weekly — had sent a text message to me about a cluster of restaurants in the 6600 block of N. Clark Street in Chicago’s Rogers Park neighbourhood. I was shocked to find out that Rogers Park was blossoming into such a hub of great culinary delights. As I had mentioned in a previous post, it was mostly Mexican restaurants in the eastern part of Rogers Park, which is where I had lived for a few years. As the city is starting to fill in more with other ethnicities, the restaurants are starting to become more reflective of the new faces. And the very good thing about it is that the restaurants are more culturally grounded than what you get the closer you get to downtown. The restaurants put forth authenticity, not tourist trappings, and that means you are getting something very reminiscent of the “old country.”

Having gone to one of the restaurants the evening of the day that I had received the text, I did not have a camera to photograph the food properly. That meant I had to return. So, I had a break in my schedule — from cleaning my condo — and I dashed to Masouleh Persian Restaurant at 6653 N. Clark Street to recapture the taste and to capture the impressions of the good things that came from their Persian kitchen. I will first start by saying that it is apparent — to me — that the service is consistently top. Although the server was rather soft-spoken, and that may be due to conversational comfort with English, there was the welcoming atmosphere my colleague, two other friends, and I received on our first visit. It may have also helped that my conversational Arabic and attempt at Kurdish eased things a little more. But I had my camera, appetite, and a window seat. I was ready.

Herbs, Cheese, Radish

Herbs, Cheese, Radish

Borani Badamjan

Borani Badamjan

I had complimentary herbs, radish, and cheese along with pita bread. I cannot stress it enough, but you can never go wrong with cilantro. As for anyone who thinks otherwise, the sun may rise from the west in their world. I love radish, so that was a plus. And the “stinky” cheese, although it really does not stink, went well for a palate preparatory and cleanser. The pita bread was not reheated and quite evident to the consistent soft touch right down to the very last piece.

For starters, I had borani badamjan, which was a cup of smoked eggplant in yogurt. It has become increasingly clear to me that eggplant prepared at Middle Eastern and Mediterranean restaurants warrants a shout of bravo. I had gone to an Afghani restaurant several months past and fell in love with the eggplant dish served there. Granted the borani badamjan is chilled, the warmth of the pita balanced out things just nicely. However, the smoked flavouring in the borani badamjan screamed wow. Next was olivieh. This salad of eggs and chicken with a few English peas added was one of the highlights that I was actually hankering for. Hence, part of my reason for returning. I am not one for eating just anyone’s dish prepared in the manner of egg salad. Trust me when I say that Masouleh is the exception to the rule.

Olivieh

Olivieh

Lentil Soup

Lentil Soup

With the main dish that I had ordered, there came lentil soup. Again, Middle Eastern and Mediterranean restaurants shine when putting cups and bowls of lentil soup in front of you. This soup came with a dollop of yogurt and accented further with olive oil and herbs. I honestly believe that the farther away you go from downtown, the more genuine recipes are. Because any lentil soup I have had closer to downtown, the more I am inclined to believe they use some variety of Campbell’s soup because the “common palates” that indulges those eateries don’t know any better. They need to go to Masouleh and quickly.

Just to have two choices of meats, I ordered chenjeh, joujeh, and rice. The chenjeh — spiced beef — looked as though it could have been dry. The looks were deceiving because the beef was so tender and juicy that it burst with each bit. There was the same with the joujeh, which was spiced chicken. Each bite was love and with me sitting at the window, it was a presentation in appreciation. As if the beef and the chicken were the only highlights, the rice reminded me of Indian basmati rice. No sticky mess, and no over-cooked fluff, this rice was an idyllic complement to the chenjeh and joujeh, apparent from me polishing off all of it and taking some of the pita bread and going around the plate to get the last of it all.

Chenjeh, Joujeh, and Rice

Chenjeh, Joujeh, and Rice

Persian Ice Cream

Persian Ice Cream

I sat for a while to let things settle and to fend off food comatose. After a few minutes, I inquired about the dessert fare. There were baklava and Persian ice cream. You can get baklava from anywhere. I wouldn’t be surprise if Dunkin Donuts doesn’t have a baklava doughnut. But you can’t get Persian ice cream from just anywhere. Guess what I had. Yes, I had the Persian ice cream, flavoured with rose-water and saffron, and topped with crushed pistachios. You have not had ice cream until you have had Persian ice cream. Think Haagen Daas is all that? Baskin Robbins gets you doing a skippy-do-da when ice cream comes to mind? Oberweis screams, “Come and get some”? You can’t get enough of Breyers? Is your relationship or marriage about to come undone? Make an appointment to go to Masouleh and have some of that Persian ice cream. It will make everything alright.

After spooning as much of the ice cream out of the glass as I could, I had Persian tea. No, we’re not talking Lipton or Nestea. We’re not even talking tea brewed from a tea bag. This was authentic Persian tea and a mark of really Persian tea prepared well is that you can drink it without any sugar. I simply sat at the window, sipping tea and smiling. Well, that was after I clicked some photos to post on the blog. But, nevertheless, I had enjoyed my Saturday lunch and thought briefly of those who sit at home — in Chicago, of all places — wondering what to do and where to go. (Pause) No, I won’t tell that lie. I was too well fed to think of any other self-martyrs.

Persian  Tea

Persian Tea

Masouleh is not a big box restaurant. While there are more than four tables, the restaurant has an ambience of closeness. It’s the kind of restaurant where you go with family and friends so that you dine communally. I remember the first night going, seeing several tables with Iranians. If there was no other indication of authenticity to the food, seeing other Iranians in the establishment was all that I needed. And at the rate Rogers Park is filling in with a lot of cultural variety, Masouleh will quickly become one of many options that I highly recommend. In the meantime, Masouleh is destined to be on my Top 10 list for 2013.

Masouleh on Urbanspoon Masouleh on Foodio54

Domo Arigato, Mr. Robata

Yuzu Sushi and Robata Grill

Recently I received an email about a Japanese sushi and robata grill in the Noble Square neighbourhood in Chicago. I can’t tell you how many solicitations arrive in my inbox from advertising agencies and marketing houses wanting to provide photos and written copy for me to post on Chicago Alphabet Soup. Bad enough I don’t think WordPress allows advertising — as that could mean me making money off of a free site, which would probably go over like a lead balloon. But when I got the email about the Japanese restaurant, I knew that the person who sent it apparently follows Chicago Alphabet Soup enough to know that the blog site is a showcase of my photography and experiences at restaurants and that I only feature ethnic restaurants — albeit some American restaurants are on the site because they are worthy of their inclusion of ethnic influences.

Yuzu Sushi and Robata Grill at 1715 W. Chicago Avenue was the subject restaurant. Although it is on a stretch of Chicago Avenue that has pedestrian traffic, it is not in a high foot traffic area. Nevertheless, it has more of the hipster allure to it, which is pretty much gobbling up the landscape of Chicago. It is more reflective of a younger crowd and truth be told, the hipster cabal tends to be representative of diverse thought and that also carries over into the acceptance of different cuisines. Well, it was easy for me to fit in to the scene and noting the constant ebb and tide of customers through the restaurant, it was apparent that they are doing great business.

Green Tea

Green Tea

I knew that I was going to be overzealous with my dining options, so I ordered hot green tea to ease digestion of the numerous culinary options I had planned to have. Then I began the dangerous task of wanting more than I knew I should have had. Starting small, or so I thought, I ordered a tuna poke. This was Hawaiian tuna salad with green and white onion, Japanese chilli pepper, soy sauce, and sesame oil, served atop avocado with an avocado fan for the backdrop. For those who claim to be adventurous with their dining, and you know you say you’re open to trying new things more or less to impress someone, the tuna is raw. Since I love my fair share of sushi, it was no problem for me working my chopsticks on the tuna poke until it was all gone. I must say that the soft texture of the raw tuna and the creamy texture of the avocado may be a bit much for some people, so beware if you are daring.

Tuna Poke

Tuna Poke

Next to come to the table was a flight of the robata grill. These items were prepared yakitori style, being that they were skewered on sticks the way they are prepared for street food in Japan. There was soft shell shrimp with a yuzu sauce. Again, this may be a bit daring for some people’s palates because you get the whole shrimp from head to tail. Next was chicken brushed with black bean sauce and topped with green onions. Looking at it, one may think that it is bland. The flavours burst with each bite to the point where it was anything but pedestrian. Per the server’s recommendation, I had nasu, which was Japanese eggplant with teriyaki sauce. Eggplant parmesan what? Baigan bharta what? Give me tender Japanese eggplant on a stick from now on. Another item on the platter that was slightly different but well worth ordering was shishto. Who would have thought that Japanese sweet peppers with ponzu and teriyaki sauce would have such a winning flavour? Imagine my surprise when I exclaimed, “Wow’” after the first bite. Spicy but not peppery, this yakitori item is a favourite now.

Flight from Robata Grill

Soft Shell Shrimp. Chicken and Black
Bean Sauce. Nasu.

Flight from Robata Grill

Shishito. Nasu. Chicken and
Black Bean Sauce.

After some time to relax and let the previous servings settle, I was ready for more. I ordered a whole grilled squid. Topped with ginger and garlic and served with jalapeño dipping sauce, I immediately swore off having fried calamari and fried squid ever again. I had made that statement before. However, it was an absolute declaration this time. There was no rubbery texture to the squid and that is one of the things about squid that most think is bothersome. That was not the case with the whole grilled squid at Yuzu Sushi and Robata Grill. And having squeezed lemon over the squid and used the jalapeño dipping sauce, I accepted the fact that I had a winning lunch and was even happier that I had followed the advice of the email note I had received and gone to the restaurant.

Whole Grilled Squid

Whole Grilled Squid

But that was not the end of it. The server had asked me if I wanted to try any sushi. Thinking that I would have been too full up to this point, I was hesitant. Drinking the hot tea really did wonders for not leaving me feeling stuffed. So, I told my server what I liked and she recommended a maki roll that they call Sorry, I’m Drunk. That was a rather curious name for a sushi roll. And even after it came to the table, I still could not believe the name. Unagi, cooked shrimp, spicy mayonnaise, black and red tobiko, chilli oil, and scallions comprised a magnificent display on a wooden board. It looked like a flower, with the sauce and the arrangement. There was such a wow factor to each bite. Freshness to each piece was a testament to the quality of the ingredients. Even the unagi sauce was not sweet, which means you can taste the unagi, shrimp, and spicy mayo. It was incredible.

Sorry I'm Drunk

Sorry I’m Drunk

Well, there was no way I was going to leave without having tried a dessert. I figured I could not go wrong with something light. Mochi balls were it. The flavours were mango, green tea, and strawberry, each placed on a plate and accented with sauces that gave the presentation of a flower and buds. You can’t go wrong with mochi balls and whether they are prepared in-house or somewhere else, they have such a bloom of flavour that you cannot fight when the option to sample some is presented to you. This was an absolute wonderful ending to a fantastic meal.

Mochi Ice Cream Balls

Mochi Ice Cream Balls

The quality of food at Yuzu Sushi and Robata Grill is comparable to or better than any high-end restaurant in Chicago. Where Yuzu comes out ahead of the game is with reasonable prices. Much like the low cost for street food, you get some really great sushi, robata grill items, and other greats without feeling as though you have given a down-payment on an apartment. Another positive note is the outstanding service. I am a huge advocate of going to restaurants where the wait staff is extremely helpful and even conversational. It makes the experience that more enjoyable. There is only one other robata grill in Chicago where I have had enjoyed my visits thoroughly and now Yuzu Sushi and Robata Grill is its competition. A return visit is necessary.

Arigato gosatimasu.

Yuzu Sushi and Robata Grill on Urbanspoon

The Reinvention Episode

Kabul House

For my 40th birthday, my friends at the time had made reservations for a return visit to Kabul House, which was in the Eastern part of Skokie at the time.  Kabul House was the first restaurant that I had blogged when I started Chicago Alphabet Soup. After going down the list of alphabets, I had never returned to the top of the alphabet for a visit back to Kabul House or to any other Afghani restaurants in the Chicago metropolitan area. I had gone to an Italian restaurant and the web owner sent a beautiful response to my blog write-up of the restaurant and followed up with a recommendation for going to Kabul House. My response was that I had gone to Kabul House, only to discover that the original location I gone to had closed. I was rather disappointed because there were no other Afghani restaurants in the city and the experience was incredible the two times that I had gone. There was a bittersweet moment while having to update Chicago Alphabet Soup accordingly. Fast forward to  2013 and I finally made it a point to go to the new location.

Cardamom Tea

Cardamom Tea

Aush-Rishta

Aush-Rishta

At 4949 Oakton Street in Skokie, Illinois, is the new location for Kabul House. The section of town where it resides has a bit of a residential feel to it with a small booming business location.  Only a few weeks ago I was in the area at a neighbouring Jamaican restaurant. But I had to revisit the place where it all began, albeit at a new locale, so that I could update Chicago Alphabet Soup with current foodtography. Spacious and light on the inside, I sat near a window so that I could have natural light for my compositions. These shots had to be special, although no more special than any other photos I have taken of food. Once the server came to table and warned me that there were some items not available because a private party the night before had wiped them out of some staple dishes that they serve, I relied on recommendations for what I should order. Knowing I was going to capture the impressions of the dishes, I wanted everything linearly so not all dishes came at once and the order was placed accordingly.

Mantoo

Mantoo

I started with an aush-rishta. This soup consisted of chickpeas, lentil, red kidney beans, and noodles with fenugreek, parsley, cilantro, and garlic. Immediately after the first slurp, I was reminded of harrira that I have had at Algerian cafes and at some other North African restaurants.  There was absolutely nothing disappointing about the soup. And with the soft, homemade bread that came complimentary, I had no shame at all when I took pieces of the bread and sopped of the last of the gravy that was left when I had finished handling the soup. Instead of ordering a cold drink, I had cardamom tea that was bottomless. Being a tea snob, and by that I mean someone who drinks tea that is brewed from loose leaves as opposed to from tea bags, I can vouch that this tea is not from tea bags. You could taste the cardamom, not just a hint of it. And it went very, very well with  the soup.

Boranee Baunjan

Boranee Baunjan

Where things kicked up a notch, not as though the soup had gotten me off to a bad start, I had mantoo. There are actually two versions of the mantoo — appetizer and entrée. I settled for the appetizer size. My diet is still that of a pescatarian primarily, but I did recall the dish the first time I had gone to Kabul House, which was before I had modified my diet. The mantoo was a plate of steamed dumplings that were filled with spiced ground beef, shredded carrots, and onions then topped with a tomato meat sauce and yogurt mint sauce. These were four dumplings that painted my face with a permanent smile. For my second appetizer, I had boranee baunjan, which was baby eggplant baked with fresh tomatoes and garlic and then topped with a yogurt-mint sauce. I kept thinking of the Indian dish baigan bharta, but the boranee baunjan has so much more bloom to the taste. Where most restaurants would be a bit heavy on salt, this was not the case with Kabul House. Now, one thing to note is that the two appetizers seemed to be a bit oily, not greasy, though. Although I have a high degree of food snobbery, I have no chef talents to be able to see if the oil was indeed grease. It was light, almost like olive oil. But some people run rampant in frenzies whenever their dishes seem to “run.” I got no indigestion, so I am going to say that the appetizers were heavy with olive oil. Then again, the hot tea works wonders with digestion.

Complimentary Sauce

Complimentary Sauce

Murgh Chalau

Murgh Chalau

There was one entrée that I wanted to attempt, given the soup and two filling appetizers that I had already tackled. I had a murgh chalau that came with complimentary rice, a spicy lentil sauce, and more bread. Again, there was what appeared to be a slight heavy hand with olive oil as part of the base, but not to point of making the dish unappetizing. Of all chicken dishes I love, Indian murgh makhani is my favourite. Well, it was my favourite until I had a murgh chalau at Kabul House. Sautéed chicken cooked with garlic and onions in a tomato base left me decisive about how much it is now my all-time favourite chicken dish. And American diners who think that Indian restaurants should have fried chicken tenders on their menu are saying that  they know the best fried chicken shacks and barbecue chicken shanties that would make me change my mind — or make me become a staunch vegan. Nevertheless, I ate as much of the murgh chalau as I could and requested a to-go box because although I did not want the moment to end, I wanted to relish the flavours of the dish later. Getting the remainder of it for take-away meant I got to enjoy a mocha chocolate flourless cake. Sure there was baklava on the dessert menu. There was even honey cake, but my gums would still be throbbing from the sweetness. So I accepted the recommendation for the flourless cake and gobbled it up with the appreciation of a rabid prude. I can’t tell you how much I love chocolate and the mocha chocolate flourless cake will be one secret I keep from my high school sweetheart so that she does not use it against me.

Flourless Chocolate Cake

Flourless Chocolate Cake

I was pleasantly surprised to discover that Kabul House retained the authenticity in its food. Having recently gone to an Indian restaurant that had morphed into what looks like a Miami lounge and seemingly tempered its food for the American palates that frequent the area where the restaurant resides, I found a great deal of happiness in the spices, bursts of flavours, and genuine kick to the food at Kabul House. The location may have changed, but thank God the food did not. When I had mentioned that I had a few visits to the first location, the server seemed glad to know that Kabul House remained on my list of favourites such that I came back. He was outstanding with his recommendations and that was one of the things I remembered fondly at the old location. The prices are splendid even for a budget conscious person and unlike the ubiquitous bill of fare consisting of humus, couscous, and other Middle Eastern fare, there is the influence of flavours coming in from Pakistan, Turkey, and quite possibly from India that will have me rushing up to Skokie now and then for some of the best Afghani cuisine outside of the country. I shall be satisfied. You will too when you get your feet under a table at Kabul House.

Kabul House on Urbanspoon Kabul House on Foodio54

Midweek Escape to Italy

So, my cell phone rings while I am still at work and it is one of my great friends. There is the inquiry as to what I was doing after work, to which I answered that I was sitting at my desk — well past 5:00 PM — pondering what to eat. Food consumes — no pun intended — my free thoughts. What to eat? Where to eat? Do I drive there, walk, or take public transit to get the food source? Should it be quick or a dining experience where I can sit still and really enjoy my meal? My friend’s call snapped me out of my waffling at least such that I could think of a general location. There was a certain Italian restaurant where she and I had gone last summer. And talk about clarity, there was no case of introducing other options along with the Italian restaurant. It was off to 116 N. Oak Park Avenue in Oak Brook for a midweek escape to Il Vicolo.

Gnarly Head

Gnarly Head

The temperatures were moderate enough that we wondered if there would be seating available outside. Once we arrived and there was a bit more bite in the wind than before we left our respective job locations — she coming from Oak Brook Terrace and me coming from downtown Chicago — it dawned on us that temperatures are not consistently warm until the last week of June. Nevertheless, we had a window seat and imagined the warmth of the sun as we watched pedestrians’ pass by with clattering teeth.

Olive Oil, Parmesan Cheese, Pepper

Olive Oil, Parmesan Cheese, Pepper

Usually whenever my friend and I would catch up for dinner, we would never have wine or a “loaded” beverage during “school nights.” We reserve libations for weekends when we don’t have to worry about sleeping through the ringing of the morning alarm. However, I was in one of my “just bring it” moods and opted for some wine. In past posts I have mentioned that I have no wine snobbery. What I said to the server was that I’d relay what I like for possible dinner courses and she could surprise me with an accompanying wine accordingly. After my friend and I had given our requests, the server said that there would be a red wine that we both should try. And, so there was a bottle of Gnarly Head, a Pinot Noir, brought to the table. There was a quick pour, a swishing around in the glass, a tasting, and a nod of approval, and then the glasses were filled. Bravo.

Tortino Di Melanzane

Tortino Di Melanzane

With a basket of complimentary bread, fresh olive oil, parmesan cheese, and cracked black pepper, we enjoyed homemade Italian bread. One of the things about being serious with baking, I can tell when bread is fresh and when it has been purchased from a grocer or bakery. This bread came from the oven at Il Vicolo. That says something for authenticity and our devouring it was testament to our approval of not having perfectly prepared Sunbeam or Wonder bread put in front of us. For a salad, we started with a grilled calamari salad that left us not wanting fried calamari ever again. Don’t get me wrong, as there are some restaurants where the fried calamari has been the absolute best. However, tender grilled calamari and baby octopus in a very light lemon garlic and olive oil served over a mixed green salad were fantastic. Next time I return to Il Vicolo, I will inquire as to whether they use fresh vegetables because the salad had the kind of flavour that pops, much like what I have had any time I have gone to the country where pesticides and growth enhancers are not used on the crops.

Grilled Calamari and Salad

Grilled Calamari and Salad

The dining experience got into full swing with a tortino de melanzane. We all have had eggplant parmesan and have friends who swear that they, their mother, or their grandmother prepares the best eggplant parmesan ever. Whatever. You can have it. Give me tortino de melanzane. The baked eggplant was neither mushy nor crunchy. Goldilocks would even agree that it was just right. The mozzarella was not piled on so high that it introduced a choke factor. The tomato sauce was moderately chunky the way Ragu wished that jarred foolishness they sell was chunky. Again, full of flavour without the feel of salt on the tongue. And they included one of my all-time favourite highlights of cilantro. Now I was understanding fully why the Gnarly Head was the wine of choice per the server. The oak flavour was all the spice needed to complete the marriage with the meal. Listen to me sounding like a real food critic. Ha!

Penne Arrabbiata

Penne Arrabbiata

Italian cuisine may be known for a good mix of herbs and spices in the dishes, yet most dishes are not spicy. You don’t turn red in the cheeks after forking your meal into your mouth. Well, some people have mild constitutions and anything other than just salt has them screaming and putting on a show. I have been gaining weight slowly over the past few months, so I keep carbohydrates in my diet. Hence, I had pasta and this time I had a spicy penne arrabbiata. My first exposure to penne arrabbiata was with the purchase of a bag of it from Trader Joe’s. I was surprised that something frozen could taste so blooming delicious because food from the frozen section is saturated with ingredients that people use for trick words in spelling bees. Then after having penne arrabbiata at some Italian restaurants, it became a source of addiction. Well, the same can be said for the pasta dish at Il Vicolo. It was spicier than what I have had anywhere else, but that made it all the more appetizing to me because I love fire with my flavour. Each bite was bliss and rather than drowning the penne in the sauce, the sauce was more like an accent. Outstanding!

Nocciola

Nocciola

By now my camera was starting to do its own thing. Buttons were inoperable, which really made it horrible for me being able to set the focus point for my compositions. Even resetting the white balance to account for the sunlight gone down was impossible. Sure, I should have been in the moment rather than photographing my food. But how else can I present impressions of my dining experiences to make you want to dash out to the restaurant? It would have been so unfair for me to leave out such appetizing photos. Alas, I could only muster so much and I put the camera away and made a note to myself to trash it when I got home. I have three other digital cameras that work without giving me grief. The cheap one I used for these shots was disposable. My friend had ordered pappardelle gamberi e funghi. I don’t particularly like to have my friends wait for me to finish snapping away with my camera because ticking off close to a hundred shots per dish could mean having fork up lukewarm food. So, I missed capturing her dish of tasty homemade flat pasta with shrimp and mushrooms in a fresh tomato and basil sauce. This is one dish that I have yet to have all to myself and I must return to for that very purpose, per my friend’s recommendation.

Chocolate Lava Cake

Chocolate Lava Cake

We wrapped up with coffee and dessert. The coffee had a robust flavour, yet it required very little sweetener. And there were the desserts. Instead of the ubiquitous plate of tiramisu or cannoli, my friend had chocolate lava cake and I had nocciola. The chocolate lava cake, which had a preparation time of eight minutes, apparently was a big hit with my friend. Then again, the last time she had cake was earlier in April for her birthday, thankful that Easter had passed and sampling a dolce was not a frowned-upon option. I had it before and agreed with her expressions that indicated it was a worthy dessert. The nocciola was certainly real gelato. You can’t buy that flavour in the frozen dairy section of your local market. You just can’t.

On weekends, Il Vicolo has a tendency to fill up quickly. Once you have had any of their dishes or interacted with the wait staff, you understand why. The prices of the dishes are far from exorbitant. Of all the times going, I have not had a dining experience that resulted in me leaving dissatisfied. If anything, I always make plans for a return visit. If you go on the weekends and for the evening courses, make a reservation. Trust me when I say that you will not want to stand around watching plates boasting flavours and aromas that cause drooling. You will want to work your knife and fork on some morsel without delay. As for me, I do believe a midweek escape to Il Vicolo is in order for the near future.

Ambassador Start at Noon O Kabob

Noon O KabobI have decided to consider quitting my day job and applying for the position of ambassador to so I can assist with peace efforts with Iran. I have yet to meet someone who would waste time arguing when there is delicious food within reach. That’s right. I will conduct all meetings and peace negotiations over a plate of zereshk polo — Persian sour berry rice with chicken — and plenty of laughter. Stuffed bellies. Greasy lips. Talk about harmony. Someone should have told Condoleezza Rice to sit her proper butt down to a table of good Iranian food and discuss peace relations in the Middle East the right way. [The FBI now taps Double Agent Williams’ PC for plotting.]

My good food adventurer friend and I indulged our hankering at a Persian restaurant. “But Persian starts with a P, Gino.” Yes, that is correct, but Persia is now Iran and a rose by any other colour is still a rose. Persian. Iranian. Damn good food is what we call it. This gem of a restaurant is at 4661 N. Kedzie Avenue on Chicago’s North Side. I am also the self-imposed ambassador at work who will take visiting Iranian scientists and engineers there. They will feel at home and they will terrorize my management to make sure I get promotions. Oops. I mean they will speak highly of me and recommend me for promotions. [If the FBI sees any variation of the word “terror” in my blog, they will come to get me.]

I had very little to eat earlier in the day, in anticipation for truly stuffing my jaws during dinner. Considering my appetite keeps a fire lit to it — weightlifting, kickboxing, and running three miles every morning — I am surprised I didn’t go into the restaurant and launch into a frenzy, biting chairs, tables, people running from my gnashing teeth, and munching on the curtains. Thankful that we arrived at the restaurant before the crowd began to pour in, we got a table immediately and the fun began.

The waiter was a cool guy, worthy of the “they must be rich” tip we gave him. We would have given him a very good inside investment tip, but we all know what happened to Martha Stewart when she went down that path. He filled us in on the Martini of the night — a pomegranate Martini. Yum! Seems that pomegranate is finding its way into a lot of beverages as an accent. Pomegranate tea. Pomegranate cider. Flavoured water with pomegranate. And now pomegranate Martinis. Instead, I opted for a glass of freshly squeeze orange juice. Delicious. They even left the pulp in, which is exactly the way it should be for those of us addicted to the naturally sweet, citrus juice. My friend had a bottomless glass of iced Persian tea.

Appetizers

Appetizers

The whole meal comes complementary with tandoori bread, onions, radishes, feta cheese, and parsley. For appetizers, we ordered kash-ke-bademjan, olovieh, and Caspian eggplant. All I have to say is that if the appetizers are hits on the menu, the entrees are certain to be winners. The kash-ke-bademjan was a mix of eggplant, mint and onion with Kashk (age dried yogurt), topped with fried onion and mint. The olovieh was a mix of chicken breast, potato, diced Persian pickles, mayonnaise, green peas, shredded carrot, and tomato, served with tandoori bread. Considering this appetizer had one of three things that I avoid religiously — small boats, small planes, and mayonnaise — I was pleasantly surprised that I had no allergic reaction other than a constant smile. The Caspian eggplant, which was sweet eggplant, tomato, onion, and garlic topped with moosir, was so delicious that I had a moment of indecisiveness. Should I buy a Honda Civic? Should I buy a Kawasaki danger bike? Do I take the Red Line all the way home or do I take a cab and demand that the driver play the music the cab incredibly loud?

Entrees

Entrees

The entrées were indeed big hits. I’m telling you, Condoleezza Rice really should have conducted peace meetings over plates of shirin polo and gheymeh bademjaan. Perhaps Hillary Clinton will, but I will save that for some other writer’s blog. Hahahaha. The manager had overheard my friend and me contemplating a seafood dish and he came by the table and recommended the salmon. I was leaning more toward the shrimp curry stew, but skipped it since the manager thought it was good, but not as good as the salmon. The shirin polo that we had was sweet and sour Persian rice — shredded almond and fine pistachio mixed with orange peel, shredded carrot, golden raisins, and Persian sour berry on top of Persian white rice. The rice was like candy. The gheymeh bademjaan was diced choice beef with split peas, prepared with Persian saffron and cinnamon in light tomato sauce with baby eggplant served with white Persian rice. The waiter was kind enough to serve the meal cultural style and threw in some dill rice since my friend and I seemed to have had such uber appetites. He thought that we were joking while we butchered the names of the items on the menu in the eye-raising quantities that we ordered. I do believe he was shocked — shocked I say — when he saw the plates cleaned with just a bit of gravy and a kernel of rice here and there. We’re not watching our weight, although I may need to start monitoring my weight gain if I get to 215 pounds well before this time next year.

Desserts

Desserts

As usual, we had to have dessert. With wide eyes, huge grins, and a little space in the bellies, we ordered a bomieh and a banana cheese cake. The bomieh reminded me of just about any Indian dessert — sweet enough to get the gums throbbing. This dessert was fried dough with saffron honey syrup. The banana cheesecake was a dessert to my heart — it was full of rum. I am not a man with a quick appetite for liquid treats, but that cheesecake had the right ingredient in it. I know at this minute some of my friends are asking about my special barbecue sauce, the spiked baked beans, the rigatoni Bolognese, the home made rum raisin ice cream, the apple cobbler I call “lovin’ from the oven,” and a few Ginoesque recipes. Okay, okay, I get the picture. [I recall a certain modified Christmas cake I baked several years ago for a party at work, one full of Kalua and rum. As soon as I had taken the lid off the cake and the alcoholic fumes wafted through the room, that cake was good as gone. All I got was a view of a cake plate with crumbs.] To wash this all down, my friend had another glass of bottomless Persian tea and I had a cup of hot Persian tea. Let me tell you, it was not Nestea or Lipton.

Forget about high gas prices. Forget about the weather. Forget about your wallet. Make your date pay. For the price of the entire meal, we could have ordered more. Then again, the scene after eating more food probably would have been rather embarrassing. This is yet another restaurant to add to my list of places to frequent during my long stay here in Chicago, which will be for the rest of my life. I could see myself in my old age keeling over at some restaurant. My epitaph would read “He Died a Happy Man, So Full of Life and So Full of Food and Beverage.” My younger brother said it should read “He Always Had a Smile and a Crumb on His Face.” Go to Noon O Kabab. Have the pomegranate Martini. Rally for peace in the Middle East by having people join you, as long as they pay their part of the dinner tab and tip accordingly.

Knock! Knock!

Rats! It’s the FBI coming to confiscate my laptop. I will just have to bribe them with an invitation to Noon O Kabab.

Noon-O-Kabab on Urbanspoon