Off the Map: Elvis Has Left the Building

Bacon Old Fashioned -- Patterson House, Nashville, TN

The Patterson House

We've said it before and we'll say it again: if your restaurant was featured on a nationally broadcast television program for a particular dish, DO NOT TAKE SAID DISH OFF THE MENU.

We're Not Hard to Please: Give Us the Dish and Ply Us with Liquor. That's All There Is To It

Now we're looking at your, Patterson House.

Bottles, Bottles Everywhere and Not a Drop to Drink

Vodka is currently traipsing through Nashville with her friend, who has opted to call herself Grey Goose ("On the Rocks with a Twist of Lemon" serving as her middle name).  

Last Name: "Actually, Make That Two"

While in town, we naturally venture to the two Best Thing I Ever Ate locales that Nashville has to offer.  

Such Mission-Driven Activities Are the Price One Pays for Being Vodka's Friend

We begin at The Patterson House, home of Claire Robinson's favorite HOLIDAY dish, the Elvis Panini with a Bacon Old-Fashioned.  The problem with this plan?  NO ELVIS PANINI is on the menu.

We Are Certain That Elvis Would NOT Be Pleased

Rather than throwing an appropriate fit (which most certainly would have happened had Ginger been in attendance), Grey Goose seems to have a calming effect on Vodka, who -- with only a mild whine -- orders us each the second half of Claire's choice, Don Lee's Bacon Old-Fashioned.  

How to Appease Vodka: Hand Her a Cocktail. Immediately. If Not Sooner

The cocktails are made in front of us -- in the same shaker, which will prove significant later -- and then poured over a large round ice cube.  After only one sip, Vodka is fairly sure that she has never seen Grey Goose look more excited, while Vodka herself is puckering her lips.

"It's very bacony," she states the obvious (being that it's called a BACON Old-Fashioned, and all). 

"I love the maple and coffee pecan bitters," Grey Goose says, which immediately makes Vodka reach out to snatch her drink.  With one taste, Vodka declares that Grey Goose's cocktail is "better" than hers, despite the fact that logic dictates this can't be possible.  

One of These Things Is Not Like the Other (If You Ask Vodka, That Is)

After accepting her fate that Vodka is going to make her switch drinks, Grey Goose declares, "It's delicious.  I would absolutely get it again.  I'd give it a 4."

"It's getting a 3," Vodka says.

"Even that one?" Grey Goose quips, pointing at the "better" of the two options before us.  

Touche, Grey Goose

While we appreciate the uniqueness of the cocktail's ingredients -- and of The Patterson House's cocktail list in general -- Vodka just cannot get behind the smokiness of this creation.  In contrast, we find the sliders and tater tots which we choose as panini substitutes absolutely scrumptious, and we are also huge fans of the ambience of the place, which features a giant circular bar in the middle, surrounded by cozy booths and bookcases.

If Vodka Can't Get Her Way, a Miniature Burger Does Tend to be a Worthy Replacement

Fact: Few Things in This World Are More Enjoyable Than a Tater Tot

Indeed, if we had been able to procure the Elvis Panini which we had traveled all the way to Tennessee to taste, perhaps Vodka would be better able to appreciate the barbeque-esque taste of the bacon old-fashioned.  

Too Bad This Isn't Smothered in Peanut Butter and Banana

But being that the panini, much like Elvis himself, has left the building, we see no reason not to do the same, leaving nothing but a mediocre star rating in our wake.  

Patterson House's Bacon Old Fashioned: 3 stars

Off the Map: A Cobb Salad By Any Other Name Is Called "Louie"

Crab and Shrimp Louie Salad -- The Rotunda at Neiman Marcus, San Francisco, CA

The Rotunda at Neiman Marcus

If there is one thing Vodka loves to hear in life, it is Ginger on the phone with a Best Thing I Ever Ate restaurant location, trying to discern whether or not they serve the dish we have been pre-ordained to eat.

"Hello, Yes, Can You Please Read Me Your Entire Menu? Because Your Website Is Useless"

Unfortunately for Ginger, all such calls to the Rotunda at Neiman Marcus in San Francisco land her in, say, the Gucci dress department, where they do not know, nor care, whether or not the "Crab and Shrimp Louie Salad" is the same one Tyler Florence called the "seafood cobb salad" on the HOLIDAY episode of the show.  (PS Why is Tyler not calling the dishes by the correct names?  This is the second time this has happened with his dish choices.  Do your research, Tyler!).

Get With the Program, Will You, Florence?

Therefore, when we wander into the Rotunda (after, naturally, getting lost among the bevy of escalators that led us to the place, none of which Vodka is capable of boarding gracefully), we are fairly, but not 100%, certain that the correct dish will be on the menu.

Thanks for the Window View So We Can Try to Get Our Bearings Back

And if it's not, well, it's past noon now, and we haven't had a whiskey-spiked coffee in over three hours, so it's time to start drinking again.

Enough with the Scenery, Bring on the Wine

We are led to our window seat overlooking Union Square and greeted by yet another absurdly pleasant waitress (what flows through the water in Northern California?!  Gin?!  This happiness is baffling).

The God of Gin and Pleasantries

This particular member of the Neiman Marcus service staff is wearing peace sign earrings and bright purple glasses, and if there was a person who better epitomized our image of San Francisco for us, we'd have difficulty finding her.

Neiman Marcus: Where the Upscale Hippies Come to Flock

We each order a glass of white wine -- what we see as the perfect compliment to our upcoming plate of seafood -- along with the Louie salad and a bowl of lobster bisque (apparently, we came to San Francisco to eat as many fish-based soups as possible).

Noon = Long Past Wine O'Clock

As we wait, we are handed two shot glasses of what tastes like delicious Campbell's chicken broth (obviously it is something fancier than this, but "consomme" isn't really in our vocabularies).

Quick, Ginger, Create a Diversion While I Stick This Cup in My Handbag

It is all we can do not to change our lobster bisque order to a pot of this stuff instead, but when popovers also appear on our bread plates, we are momentarily distracted.

Popovers?! Did Someone Say POPOVERS?!

Now, Tyler Florence is the one who initially turned us on to BLT Steak's to-die-for popovers, so we are flummoxed as to why he wouldn't mention this little accessory in his Best Thing I Ever Ate spiel about the salad.

Priorities, Tyler. PRIORITIES

This popover is decidedly less pleasing than the BLT Steak version (the sure sign of this fact?  Vodka does not finish it.  Ginger, on the other hand, can't seem to find enough food to satisfy the void left by three food-less hours).  They come with a sweet, fruity butter (which Vodka instantly dismisses in the name of regular butter and a giant helping of salt).

Vodka Is the Founder of We Hate Sweet Butter .Com

Ahh, There's the Stuff

Said butter is served ice cold, which is generally a no-no in our book, but overall, we are merely impressed that we are being handed free popovers in the first place.

And We're Sure Neiman Marcus Is Impressed on Our Ability to Create Crumbs

Our food arrives, and we proceed to act as though we're eating at Old Country Buffet rather than a high-end department store, passing our dishes back and forth between us like hooligans.

You Take a Bite, Then I'll Take a Bite, Then You Take a Bite, Then I'll Take a Bite

Our peace-loving waitress, upon witnessing this behavior, assures us that "next time," we can just tell her that we want to split the dishes, and they'd be happy to do so.  To her credit, this fact does not come out in a tone that breathes, "Stop sullying the reputation of this establishment, you hicks."

For the Record, We Did Not Spill the Soup. So That's Something

The dishes themselves are a study in contrasts -- the lobster bisque warm, creamy, and heavy, and the salad refreshing, crunchy, and light.  Ginger laps up the lobster bisque with glee, while Vodka finds it just a bit too creamy and sweet for her liking (in other words, she apparently doesn't know the meaning of "bisque").

Of Note, She Took No Such Issue with the Creaminess of the Morning's Chowder, Presumably Because It Came with a Side of Whiskey

She finds the Louie salad much more pleasing, despite the fact that it is difficult to eat, what with all the giant components stacked on the plate.  Indeed, a pile of thick romaine lettuce has been topped with a hard-boiled egg, avocado, tomato, cucumber, and a large pile of crab meat and shrimp in the middle.

Veggies from a Giant's Garden

At first, it is hard to unearth the Louie dressing (which tastes like an upper-crust Thousand Island) at all, as it is hiding within the mound of seafood.  With a bit of digging and rearranging, however, and by managing to pile almost all of the ingredients onto one fork-bite, we find the salad to be just as fresh and crisp as Tyler Florence had described.

Oh Salad Dressing... Come Out, Come Out Wherever You Are....

We dare say it might be one of the best seafood cobb salads out there -- the issue is that we're just not that into cobb salads.  It's not something we would ever crave, and while this one is very good, and the atmosphere is calmly serene, we just don't see ourselves shelling out another $26 in the future in order to eat this concoction.

Though We Might Be More Inclined to Do So If They Would Hand Over a Cauldron of that Campbell's Soup

And so, we make our way out of the Rotunda like two country bumpkins, Ginger stuffing bathroom tissues into her handbag like a klepto, claiming that our hotel room does not furnish them (sidenote: they do).  If our oh-so-subtle passing of dishes across the table weren't classy enough, this tissue hoarding seems to cement our place on the list of Neiman Marcus's most dreaded customers.

You Are Very Welcome for Our Patronage, Neiman Marcus

In actuality, we have never been to an Old Country Buffet, but based on this experience, perhaps it is time for us to start frequenting the place.

The Rotunda at Neiman Marcus's Crab and Shrimp Louie Salad: 3 stars

Only the Food Network Can Turn the East Village into a Dry Town

Pernil -- Casa Adela
Casa Adela

Breaking News: Ginger is moving out of the East Village, and from the way she is acting, one would think she were moving out of the country.

Hint: She's Not Moving Here

It is in this state of franticness that, when Vodka suggests we eat at a (read: "a" -- SINGULAR) Best Thing I Ever Ate location in her soon-to-be-departed neighborhood, Ginger pulls together a haphazard itinerary of every one of the East Village locales, intent on hitting up all of them.

And Thus Commences Our Freaky Friday-Like Role Reversal

Once Vodka talks Ginger off of a ledge about the fact that, unlike Queens or Hoboken, we would be willing to return to the East Village in the future, we settle on having "lunch" (again, our "meals" are only rough estimates) at Casa Adela, followed by "dessert" at the Big Gay Ice Cream Shop.

And By "Lunch," We Mean Stop #1 on Our "Continuum of Eating"

Only problem: neither place serves booze, and heaven forbid we begin an afternoon of eating without drinks in our hands.  Willing to revise our itinerary, we soon discover that NO remaining Best Thing I Ever Ate place in the East Village will serve us a spiked beverage.  Congratulations, Food Network, on making the East Village seem like a dry town.

Magic Kingdom: Manhattan Edition

Instead of suffering through an afternoon of sober eating, Ginger suggests that we begin at the Flea Market Cafe, a place she chooses not for its culinary expertise nor ambiance, but merely because "they have a bar."  As Ginger recounts her weekend misadventures with the summary "I am never drinking again" (said, naturally, while sipping on her bellini), we down our $5 cocktails and venture into Alphabet City to find Aaron Sanchez's favorite HOLIDAY dish, the pernil at Casa Adela.

"What's Pernil?" "Roast Pork." "Thank Goodness -- I Was Afraid It Was Something Weird"

Now, prior to this foray to Avenue C, our experience with Alphabet City consists of, well, we know it's the setting for Rent.  Therefore, approximately every five feet of our walk down the block is punctured by Vodka stating some variation of "I feel like I'm in Brooklyn."

For the Record, the Comparison Is Not Meant to be a Compliment

By the time we have stumbled into Casa Adela's "scenic" dining room (let's just say it makes South Jersey's Best Thing I Ever Ate choices look like the French Laundry), we are squarely out of our element.

Get It?  Squarely. -- Because We're Big Squares

Rather than being greeted by, oh, ANYONE who works at Casa Adela, we are instead offered a table by what we soon discover is one of their regulars.  Said customer should be hired by Casa Adela pronto, as he is just about the only friendly and helpful face for miles.  As we grow increasingly sweaty due to the lack of air conditioning, one of Casa Adela's hair-netted employees deigns to arrive at our table.  "Service with a smile" is clearly not a priority in this place, as she does little but glare while slapping silverware and plastic cups of water down in front of us.

Clearly a Graduate of Hospitality 101

Said silverware soon proves to be a waste, however, when Ginger orders one pernil sandwich for us to share, and this Puerto Rican version of Sophia Petrillo swipes Vodka's knife and fork away in one swift movement of disdain.  "Apparently we get one set of silverware per dish," Vodka whispers, and rather than feeling like cheapskates (which we are fairly certain was Sophia's intention), we are merely amused.

Dear Sophia, We'd Be Even More Amused If You Served COCKTAILS

Thankfully, within minutes, our pernil sandwich arrives.  Small pieces of roasted pork sit crushed within a toasted white roll.  While from the outside, the sandwich looks hearty and filling, peeling back one layer of the bread reveals that the meat-per-square-inch ratio is decidedly on the stingy side.

Optical Illusion Sandwiching

Honey, I Shrunk the Pork

Despite the orphanage-sized protein portions, the pork itself is succulent, peppery, and perfectly cooked.  Together with the crunchy bread, it creates the illusion of a (admittedly miniature) Cuban sandwich, and it is decidedly more enjoyable than we were prepared to give Sophia and Co. credit for.

Puerto Rican Panini

Nevertheless, we think the sandwich could benefit greatly from a condiment of some sort -- a gravy or a spattering of mayonnaise -- as the whole thing is a tad on the dry side.

We Need to Start Carrying McDonald's Ketchup Packets at All Times

After a typical bout of confusion over our "massive" $6 tab, we glance one more time around Casa Adela, deciding that it is not so much a "hole in the wall" as a "crater in the foundation," albeit one that knows its way around roasting a pig.

Casa Adela's Pernil: 4 stars