Off the Map: How Does One Decide It's Kugel Time?!

Noodle Kugel -- Manny's Cafeteria and Delicatessen, Chicago, IL
Manny's Cafeteria and Delicatessen

Believe it or not (...), we have a gripe: why can none of the Food Network stars pick Best Thing I Ever Ate dishes in DOWNTOWN Chicago?

You Know - Something at a CENTRAL LOCATION

With a few exceptions, they are sending us to the ends of the earth to eat rather bizarre culinary choices (pork rinds, anyone?).  We had been fairly good-humored about this phenomenon until now, when we are traipsing over the river (literally) and through the woods (figuratively) to Manny's Cafeteria and Delicatessen.

So Far Away... Doesn't Anybody Eat in One Place Anymore?

Manny's Deli is allegedly in the South Loop.  It also appears to be the ONLY place of business in the South Loop that is not a gas station or a warehouse.  Why, Ted Allen?!  WHY?  And how did you ever find this place?

Here's a Tip: There's Food Around These Parts, Too

When the beacon of Manny's lighted sign finally appears before us, we are drenched from sweat (thanks for the lack of shade, Chicago) and suffering from blisters.

Well, This is... Scenic

Perhaps We Could Trade in Our Legs for the Day

Glancing at her watch and finding that it is exactly 10:25am, Vodka announces, "Oh good, it's kugel time."

"How does one decide it's kugel time?!" Ginger asks in an accusatory tone.

"When I called them, they said the kugel comes out at 10:30," Vodka explains.  "And they run out, so it's best to arrive when it first appears."

But Thanks for the Kugel-Based Hostility

Fearing another Union Square Cafe bar nuts situation, we are relieved to find a pan of kugel resting on the counter when we enter.

This Better Be the Best Kugel of Our Lives, Ted Allen. Lucky for You, We Don't Eat Kugel, So It Shouldn't Be Hard

Manny's is set up like a true cafeteria, complete with trays, labeled entrees, and entirely too many workers not doing particularly much.

Perhaps They're Polishing the Hundreds of Unused Trays

We ask for a single plate of kugel, pick up our receipt, and head to one of the hundreds of tables within Manny's premises.  All but five of the tables are vacant, so we take a seat by the window in order to watch the world go by.

Unfortunately, there is not much "world" to be had in the South Loop, so our view is rather bleak.

Nothing But Our Kugel to Entertain Us

Now, Vodka is feeling especially reluctant about this kugel because a) she loves noodles and b) she HATES sweet entrees (a la sweet potatoes).  She greatly fears that this dish will completely ruin her beloved noodles by overdosing them in sugar, while Ginger, in contrast, is excited about any prospect of sweetness.

Vodka Comes Squarely from the "Raisins Don't Belong in Pasta" School of Thought

Taking our first bites, Ginger nods appreciatively and Vodka makes a face.  Without a word, she slashes off half of the portion, moves it to the side of the plate, and covers it heavily with salt.

You're This Kugel's One Last Hope, Salt Shaker

"Ahh, much better," she sighs, as Ginger makes every attempt to separate her own sweet side of the plate from the overflowing sodium.  Thankfully for Vodka, the kugel itself is not as overtly sweet as she had feared (though it does feature golden raisins, which she finds far from ideal).  It is also not particularly mushy, as the top layer of crunch has infiltrated deeper into the noodles than one would assume.

The Kugel Version of a "Muffin Top"

"I like the raisins," Ginger confesses.  "But really, who comes here?!"  Indeed, we have still not figured out how Ted Allen ever discovered this place in order to choose the kugel for the AT A DELI Best Thing I Ever Ate episode.

Tip: This Fountain Is Nowhere Nearby. Actually, Nothing Is

We consult our itinerary, at which point Ginger discovers that our next scheduled eating activity is not until this evening.

This Will Never Do. A Girl Needs a Steady Stream of Cocktails Through the Day

"We're not eating for another seven-and-a-half hours?!" she asks with horror, as if we may actually starve in the coming minutes.  It is therefore decided that we will go to the Art Museum to day drink, which is obviously our favorite cultural activity of all. 

There Are Worse Things Than Staring at the Water on a Sunday

In truth, Manny's could learn a lesson from the Art Institute: perhaps if they offered some spirits in their cafeteria, Chicago tourists would indulge in "kugel time" more often.

Manny's Cafeteria and Delicatessen's Noodle Kugel: 3 stars

Off the Map: They Could've Spared a Pickle

Brisket -- Edmart Deli, Pikesville, MD
Edmart Deli

"I forget this about you: you don't actually like people.  And that's why we're friends."

And so begins Vodka's 24-hour food spree around Baltimore.

Good Morning, Baltimore. Here's the Brisket That Lives Next Door

Vodka is in town visiting one of her oldest and dearest friends -- well, if 'dear' can be defined by such antics as blaring the car horn at the MegaBus stop by way of greeting.  Said friend, who is insisting on being referred to in this blog as "Bloody Mary," is also a New Jersey native, and is therefore hesitant about the mission of the day because she fears that it will involve interacting with a lot of people (a happenstance that we "affable" New Jerseyans try to avoid at all costs).

How Bloody Mary forgot that Vodka lacks much in the 'friendliness' department is beyond us.

Anyway, after multiple wrong turns and a few complaints about why Duff Goldman has sent us to Pikesville in the first place, we end up at Edmart Deli.  Actually, we end up in a strip mall parking lot across from Edmart Deli, which Bloody Mary points out, based on our mutual New Jersey roots, is the perfect way to begin the day.

If This Were a Diner Instead of a Deli, We'd Feel Even More at Home

We enter Edmart's and place our order for one brisket sandwich on rye with tiger sauce, as per Duff's instructions on the AT A DELI episode of Best Thing I Ever Ate.  The man taking the orders is not only about as pleasant as us, but completely lackadaisical about the fact that we are ordering a thick, meaty sandwich at 10:30 in the morning.   The store itself is stocked with typical deli wares, and thankfully, it is virtually empty.  Vodka approaches the counter to pay for our sandwich and two Snapples, and it soon becomes clear why the price tag for these three measly items is quite high for Maryland standards:

The proprietors are originally from New York.

Which Also Explains the "Charming" Attitude of the Sandwich Maker

We discover this fact when the lady at the cash register asks Vodka, seemingly out of no where, "Are you here from out of town?"  Whether this line of questioning arose from Vodka's sour expression, desire for mid-morning brisket, or penchant for photographing Edmart's "Best of Baltimore" signs is unclear, but the lady clearly has her pegged as a foreigner.  She then reveals that Edmart Deli's roots, and meat, come from New York originally, and therefore, the $13 price tag begins to make sense (thank you, New York City inflation).

So What You're Saying Is the Locals DON'T Normally Take Pictures of Your Signage?

We retreat to Bloody Mary's car, where Vodka makes a spectacle of herself by photographing our meal on the dashboard, completely unaware that there are two Baltimore residents stationed in the car directly across, completely confused (some would say "perturbed") as to why they are having their picture taken through the windshield (truth be told, we are lucky we weren't jumped for our high-price meat).

Nothing Like Getting Killed for the Sake of a Photo Op

Diving into our sandwich, we find unbelievably fresh rye bread -- soft and supple and able to blend perfectly with the brisket meat.  We are so taken with the bread, in fact, that the brisket itself almost becomes an afterthought.

WonderBread Indeed

"It's very good... for brisket," Vodka ventures.  This comment results in an inexplicable burst of laughter from Bloody Mary, followed by an accusatory, "How many times have you had brisket?!"

As If Brisket Is A Dish That Belongs on 'Man Vs. Food'

Vodka, mid-chew, is rendered incapable of answering, so she merely holds up varying numbers of fingers until Bloody Mary is forced to guess, "Once?  Twice?  Three times?"

"A lady," Vodka completes the lyric.  Despite our apparent dearth of past brisket-consumption, we decide this meat is remarkably tender and easy to consume, if grossly lacking in tiger sauce ("I knew he was going to be skimpy with that tiger sauce," Bloody Mary comments in what is usually Vodka's tone of judgment).

Never Lay Low on the Condiments with Us Around

We are satisfied, if mildly unimpressed, with our first Maryland Best Thing I Ever Ate meal of the day, especially when Vodka stuffs our trash back into the Edmart Deli paper bag with the following quip of dissatisfaction: "You would think they could've spared a pickle."

Edmart Deli's Brisket: 3 stars

Off the Map: It's Not Even 4 PM Somewhere

Junk Yard Special -- Sarcone's Deli, Philadelphia, PA
Sarcone's Deli

Admittedly, the day after Thanksgiving is not the ideal day to go on a culinary rampage.  But Vodka is, if nothing else, mission-oriented, so stuffed like a turkey or not, she is putting on her elastic waistband pants and heading into Philadelphia to eat.

The Pilgrims Would Be So Proud

Because Vodka is persuasive (read: bossy), she has talked a Philadelphia-residing friend into doing a mini-Best Thing I Ever Ate food tour with her in an effort to check off a couple of Philly eateries we had missed on our previous jaunt around the city.

Here's a Tip: Only Befriend Accommodating People

First up, residing deep within the heart of South Philly, is Sarcone's Deli, which features Adam Gertler's chosen AT A DELI hoagie, the junk yard special.

Vodka Came to Philly and All She Got Was a Sandwich Named After the Dump

Now, here's something to keep in mind about Sarcone's Deli: they close at 4:00pm.  Every day.  No matter what.  Even to early bird diners like us, this timeframe is a bit geriatric.  For this reason, Vodka flies towards the front door of Sarcone's at exactly 3:37pm, anxious to get her paws on this Food Network delicacy before the closing bell rings.

Adding to the "Charm," They're Apparently Closed Mondays

"You got here just in time!" a worker greets me.  "We just started packing up shop."

(Note: It appears Sarcone's closing time is actually 3:45pm).

I order a medium junk yard special, without having the time to look into what I'll be eating or, more importantly, to care.  The price comes to $8.63, which would seem high if I weren't in the midst of alleged Best Thing I Ever Ate greatness.  This hoagie has to be ten times better than any $5 variety served at a corner bodega across the rest of Philadelphia, right?

Well, no.

Gourmet Philadelphia Eating

Trotting out of Sarcone's, I make my way to my friend's apartment, where outside, I am greeted by a few of South Philly's finest residents.  Permeating booze (clearly, they're our kind of people), they are on a diatribe about the faulty address labeling along the block, a tangent they refuse to come off of even when I attempt to make a hasty retreat into my friend's (allegedly mislabeled) building. 

Thanks for the heightened sense of ambiance, South Philly.  You're really adding to the Sarcone's experience.

Now Please Excuse Me So I Can Start Documenting a Hoagie

Opening the package at the safety of my friend's dinner table, we find a large hoagie, its components sandwiched between a hearty Italian roll sprinkled with sesame seeds.  Inside resides fresh mozzarella, provolone, turkey, prosciutto, sauteed Spinach, roasted red peppers, red wine vinegar oil, dried herbs, a parakeet cage, a ball of yarn, and the kitchen sink.

Well, it is a junk yard special, after all.

One's Writing Grows Less Clever After Dining in South Philly

Last three points aside, the hoagie is chock full of unending yet seemingly miscellaneous ingredients.  Widening my jaw as much as possible, I rip a hunk away from half of the hoagie.

And chew solemnly through approximately a loaf of bread.

Can You Tell Me How to Chew, How to Chew Through Sesame Bread?

Now, Sarcone's Deli is apparently known for their bread.  It seems to be their thing.  And I, admittedly, am not the biggest fan of quintessential Italian bread: the crunchy and crumbly on the outside, soft and chewy on the inside loaves that form the "best" Italian sandwiches.  I like my bread pliable and easy to bite, two features that Sarcone's bread is just not meant to have.

It's All About the Bread but Not About the Teeth

And generally speaking, I don't like seeds, so the sesame sprinkling does little to appease me.

The ingredients within the sandwich itself are all tasty and fresh, though not a combination I would order again.  Additionally, because some are sliced (turkey, prosciutto) and others are chunky (red peppers, mozzarella), it has a tendency to fall further and further apart with each bite.

Uniform Slicing, This Is Not

Because, like Ginger, I am never one to refuse a condiment, I think the hoagie could stand for some mayonnaise, but even the creamiest Hellman's available would not have pushed it into 5 star-status.

Though the Bread Could Have Certainly Used a Mayonnaise Moisturizer

Overall, there is nothing remotely wrong with the sandwich.  In fact, if you are in the area at dinner time, you should absolutely stop by to quench your hoagie craving.

Except, of course, Sarcone's Deli will not be open.

Sarcone's Deli's Junk Yard Special: 3 stars

Let Me Tell You How to Make a Sandwich

Chopped Herring Salad -- Barney Greengrass
Barney Greengrass

We are not wildly optimistic upon entering Barney Greengrass.

To Be Honest, Vodka Always Thought This was a Hardware Store

The item we are to try, the chopped herring salad, as per Alton Brown's choice on the AT A DELI episode of Best Thing I Ever Ate, does not sound especially appealing.  In fact, Vodka, who is generally not opposed to such fish salads, has tried it previously, and it made her want to gag.

Plus, we have another full day of eating ahead of us, and we are trying to pace ourselves.

For these reasons, when we approach the counter, Vodka asks the three workers standing behind it if we can have only a half sandwich of the chopped herring salad.

And they stare at us blankly.

Ginger pipes up to help clarify, and the vacant stares only become worse, slowly morphing into confusion.

Vodka, now unnerved by their silence, decides the best way to proceed is to explain exactly what we want accomplished: "One piece of bread, cut in half, so you put the bread, then the salad, then a tomato, then bread...."

In essence, she explains to them how to make a sandwich.

A How-To Lesson in Sandwich Making

Now their blank stares have turned into mocking amusement as they realize they are dealing with two loons.  They send us to the other end of the counter to consult the owner as to whether or not such a half-sandwich request would be feasible.  He, also discovering that we're insane, comes up with the plan to order a quarter-pound of chopped herring salad and one slice of bread.

Problem solved.  Except not really.

We return back to the other end of the counter, and it appears that everyone who works at Barney Greengrass has now been told of our antics.  After more confusion and consultations with the owner, we manage to procure a small cup of chopped herring salad and one solitary slice of rye bread.

And now we need a tomato.  And a knife.  Ever the problem children.

Perfectly Packaged Goods for the Two Pains

We retreat sheepishly out of Barney Greengrass to create our own (half) sandwich on the church steps next door.  After much difficulty, Vodka manages to pry the halves of the fresh bread and the thick juicy tomato slices apart ("I would be a terrible surgeon"). We scoop on just enough of the chopped herring, and we bite.

And now, we're the ones who have been silenced.

"I think that's enough," says Ginger

The chopped herring salad is odd - not bad, just odd.  As you bite in, it tastes delicious: tangy yet refreshing, like a less-creamy white fish salad.  Once you swallow, however, it leaves a decidedly strange aftertaste in your mouth, like applesauce that has been served in a fresh clam shell.

Thankfully, the Tomato Has Taken Over the Proceedings

The tomato and bread, which are both scrumptious, do much to counter-balance the chopped herring, but not enough to make us finish our sandwich half.  Ginger, however, does not feel right throwing out the rest of our quarter-pound of salad, and instead, she sticks it in her handbag until "I give up and dispose of it."

Ginger the Trash Picker

This moment comes two hours later when, after being outside in 80-degree weather for the better part of the day, Ginger opens her handbag and a strong stench of rotting ocean emerges.

And this, boys and girls, is why you don't carry trash in your handbag.

Barney Greengrass's Chopped Herring Salad: 2 stars

Vodka Dumps Ginger in the Name of a Bagel

Everything Bagel – Tal Bagels
Tal Bagels

Vodka has been obsessed with Tal Bagels for months.  Well, ever since she found it.

At first, we erroneously believed that Tal Bagels was only located near the United Nations, which is just about the least convenient place we can think of going.  In truth, they are scattered throughout the city.  So when Vodka stumbled upon one a few months ago, she went in, sans Ginger, to order Rocco DiSpirito’s favorite everything bagel from the Best Thing I Ever Ate AT A DELI episode.

This Is What Happiness Looks Like

Always one to follow directions, Vodka ordered the bagel with scallion cream cheese, tomatoes, red onions, and capers.

And with her first bite, she was hooked.

The everything bagel itself is doughy and soft, and distinctly more salty than lesser-variety everything bagels (all traits that Vodka prefers).  Paired with the scallion cream cheese, it is a delectable combination of savory flavors (albeit all flavors that will make your breath reek for hours).

One thing that Tal Bagels does undeniably right is smear cream cheese on both sides of the bagel – a practice at which many other bagel shops fail.  Doing so allows the customer to pull the last bites of the bagel apart to savor the halves individually if desired, thus dragging out the devouring.

See the Cream Cheese Shmear on Both Halves?

The tomato topping is a revelation, and an addition that Vodka will never remove from all future bagel sandwich orders.  And the capers, which Vodka is not usually a huge fan of, bring a unique tanginess to the proceeding.

The bagel is perfect.

Finally, after months of waiting for Ginger to accompany her to Tal Bagels, Vodka took her visiting friend to the place and threw in the towel on the waiting game.

Vodka's Friend's Choice = Also Delicious (Cucumbers!)

At last procuring pictures of the creation, she decided to go renegade and post the review sans Ginger’s input.

Because if Ginger ranks this bagel as anything less than 5 stars, there is something severely wrong with her tastebuds.

*Update: Ginger has finally eaten the Tal Bagel sandwich.  This meeting of her mouth and this bagel was actually quite a feat, because for those of us on the lower half of Manhattan, all Tal Bagel locations are highly inconvenient (plus, the weather has been tremendously unsympathetic to both walking and subway riding).  But this bagel was worth sacrificing my sweat and vanity.

In a city with endless mediocre bagel options, this everything bagel is, as Vodka described, pretty close to perfect.  Chewy-in-a-good-way,  it is perfectly complemented by Rocco's scallion cream cheese, tomatoes, red onions, and capers additions.  Usually, I am insistent on lox with my weekend bagels, and while I love lox, I also love not being broke ($10 for a bagel with lox, you say?  No thanks).  But when I ordered Rocco's Tal creation, I didn't even notice its absence.  The fillings are salty, cool, and creamy, all stuffed into a warm (not toasted) bagel.  Perhaps I will return again tomorrow. 

Tal Bagels’s Everything Bagel: 5 stars*

*Certifiable Best Thing We Ever Ate