Off the Map: Peppered Hoosier

Peppered Beef Sandwich -- Shapiro's Delicatessen, Indianapolis, IN

Shapiro's Delicatessen

At our next Kentucky-based meal, Vodka and her friend, Diet Coke, sit across from one another, fingers extended and throwing out numbers in rapid-fire succession.  "Oh sorry, we were just counting," Diet Coke "explains" when our perplexed waiter approaches.

"States," Vodka clarifies.  "We were counting how many states we've each been to."  Which, while maybe not exactly normal dinner conversation, still makes a lot more sense than merely stating we were "counting," as if we had just learned how.

We Never Graduated Past the "Counting on Our Fingers" Technique

The outcome of this conversation reveals that, including Kentucky, Diet Coke has now been to 34 states, while Vodka has been to 17.  Which obviously means that we should hightail it for Indiana, immediately, if not sooner.

Lewis and Clark Ain't Got Nothin' on Us

As we weave our way up the farm-lined highways toward Indianapolis, home of not one, but two Best Thing I Ever Ate dishes, Diet Coke's husband (let's call him "Regular Coke") begins texting her about how "nice" Vodka is to "put up with her."  You see, along with trying to visit every state in the union, Diet Coke is also in a battle with her sister to see who can eat at a Chipotle in more states, and venturing to one in Indiana would put her in the lead.

Clearly, Vodka Only Befriends Weirdos

"Putting up with you, eh?" Vodka asks.  "Does he not realize you will soon have carted me to THREE Best Thing I Ever Ate places today?"

So Just To Be Clear, Indianapolis Is NOT Right Next Door to Louisville?

Our first stop along this journey is Shapiro's Delicatessen in Indianapolis, home of Marc Summers's LOCAL FAVORITES dish, the peppered beef sandwich.  

As We Pull Up, Diet Coke Silently Wonders If They Serve Burritos

Shapiro's itself is set up like an old-fashioned cafeteria-style deli, where the customers grab a tray and then choose their desired dishes while cruising along the counter.  

If Only All Meals in Our High School Cafeterias Came with a Side of Pickles

Vodka orders one peppered beef sandwich on rye, with mustard and cole slaw on the side, since Diet Coke, in a preference that is completely flummoxing, dislikes ninety-percent of condiments.  (As opposed to the "That's why I eat food -- as a vehicle for condiments" discussion of yore).

Between Diet Coke's Lack of Drinking and Lack of Condiments, It's a Wonder She and Vodka Are Friends

The bread arrives hot out of the oven, the peppered beef is cut directly in front of us, and the whole thing looks to be about the freshest sandwich we have ever been handed.  

My, Don't You Look Scrumptious

Without asking, Shapiro's provides us with both an extra plate and an extra pickle, and we are equally heartened to find a napkin dispenser and salt and pepper set featured on each table.

We Ask for So Little, Really -- Don't Make Us Fetch Our Own Napkins, and We'll Be Your Best Friend

As Vodka begins taking notes, Diet Coke takes a bite of her half and calls out enthusiastically, "Good!"  Immediately correcting herself, she says, "Oh sorry, I'm not supposed to influence the first taste."  

As If Vodka Ever Had Trouble Forming Her Own Judgmental Opinions

Luckily for Diet Coke, Vodka agrees that the sandwich is indeed quite tasty, though it is even better when she slathers on a preponderance of mustard and cole slaw.  

Now THIS Is a Perfect Sandwich

The meat itself tastes like a combination of pastrami and corned beef, with just enough peppery flavor to give it a kick without being overpowering.  The rye bread on which it is assembled is unbelievably good -- crispy on the crust and chewy on the inside, perfectly molding to the contents within.  

Possibly Because, Unlike Our Last Locale, It Has FLOUR

What we decide we like best about this sandwich is the simplicity -- all Shapiro's recommends dousing it with is a solid helping of yellow mustard, as opposed to some of the newer sandwich places, where no lunch is complete without at least nineteen ingredients.  

When You're Right, You're Right, Shapiro's

Rather than over-complicating things, Shapiro's keeps their food -- and their entire restaurant -- simple, letting the real flavor of the ingredients shine through.

Good to the Last Drop

Heartened by the fact that our two-hour drive up Interstate 65 wasn't for naught, we leave Shapiro's Deli with a pep in our step, rehashing all the things we loved about the peppered beef sandwich.

Or rather, counting them.

Shapiro's Delicatessen Peppered Beef Sandwich: 5 stars*

*Certifiable Best Thing We Ever Ate

Off the Map: I Think I Must Like Flour

Flourless Chocolate Cake -- Cake Flour, Louisville, KY

Cake Flour

What, like you've never gone all the way to Kentucky to eat a cake?

Well, Excuse Us for Being Devoted to a Useless Mission

Vodka has set off on, admittedly, one of her most random Best Thing I Ever Ate trips ever, though this time, the location in question is not exactly her choice.  You see, one of her college roommates is on a quest to visit all fifty states, and she has never been to Kentucky (in a twist of fate, Vodka has actually set foot in Kentucky's borders before, though when she was a toddler, and hence before the first episode of Best Thing I Ever Ate).  

In Other Words, Before She Had a Reason to Go Anywhere

Said college roommate, who goes by the moniker "Diet Coke" due to her propensity for teetotaling (the horror), has recently (more or less) sworn off the carbonated chemical as well as most alcohol, and even the promise of a Louisville mint julep isn't enough to turn her over to our day-drinking dark side.  

One of These Things Is Not Like the Other....

However, luckily for Cake Flour, the site of our only Kentucky Best Thing I Ever Ate dish, Diet Coke has a much bigger sweet tooth than Vodka (who primarily has what's called a "wine tooth"), and she would therefore be more agreeable to eating Aaron Sanchez's favorite CAKE WALK dessert, the flourless chocolate cake, at 9:00 in the morning.

If These Were Filled with Some Kentucky Bourbon, Vodka May Be More Interested

Cake Flour itself lies fifteen minutes outside of downtown Louisville, making it especially useful that Diet Coke, unlike Vodka or Ginger, knows how to drive.  

Without Us, Uber's Ridership Is Presumably Down 50% a Day

When we arrive at its strip mall premises, Vodka orders one miniature version of the chocolate delicacy, to which she is immediately asked if we would like glasses of water to go along with it.  

Of Note, Have Never Seen Reserved Seating at a Bakery Before

We perhaps should have taken this as a clue concerning what we were getting into, as the first bites of the cake reveal it to be just about the richest one we have ever tasted.

Count Chocula Has Nothing on This Thing

The chocolate cake part itself is covered by a thick layer of chocolate fudge and decorated with a delicate swirl of white frosting (a la a Hostess cupcake, which this whole thing seems to be an upscale takeoff on).  

Also at Over $6.00, It Is at Least Six-Times the Price of a Hostess Treat

However, what this cake needs is a solid dose of white icing in the middle, since if nothing else, it would help to mute the overwhelming taste of dark chocolate bitterness.  

Where's the Cream Filling?

While there is nothing inherently wrong with this cake, and it would presumably please a true chocolate lover, for us, it is just A LOT.  

Packing a Chocolate Wallop

Even with its miniature size, we are pretty much satisfied after a single bite, and Diet Coke recommends, "I feel like you should get this only to share with ten of your favorite friends." 

The Remaining Remnants

We pack up what's left of our cake, more out of politeness than because we actually want it, as Diet Coke quips about preferring an actual plain chocolate cake to this creation, "I think I must like flour."  

Gluten Is Our Friend

To be fair to Kentucky, we consumed many other foods within its borders which were preferable to its one Best Thing I Ever Ate dish.  But unfortunately for them, no Food Network star chose to highlight those dishes on a program which the channel doesn't even produce anymore, and so they will go unmentioned.  

Here's a Tip, Aaron Sanchez: Next Time, Try Louisville's Doughnuts

Which leaves one to assume that in every old Kentucky home, filled with bourbon and mint juleps and more than a few hot browns, the one thing that is desperately missing is a large helping of flour.

Cake Flour's Flourless Chocolate Cake: 3 stars

This Must Be How Olive Garden Tastes to Other People

Linguine with Clams and Mussels in Saffron Broth -- Tree Bistro

Tree Bistro

Call us crazy, but once a restaurant has a particular dish featured on a national television program, they should not take said dish off of their menu for YEARS on end.  This has always been our issue with Tree Bistro which, despite having the linguine with clams and mussels in saffron broth featured by Danny Boome on the OBSESSIONS episode of Best Thing I Ever Ate, did not actually offer this pasta for the majority of the five years we have been doing this blog.

Um, Do You Think You're Too Good for the Food Network? Because No One Is Too Good for the Food Network

Clearly, times are hard at Tree nowadays, as suddenly there is a "seafood linguine" dish back on the menu, along with the demarcation that this was the dish "featured on Best Thing I Ever Ate!"  It appears this ploy for publicity is too little, too late, as when we walk in for our 6:00 PM reservation on a Friday, the place is completely and totally empty.  

Do You Hear the Proverbial Crickets Chirping?

We are seated on the all-season patio by ourselves, Ginger positioning herself directly in front of the heater, and our solo dining experience would remain this way for the entirety of our meal.  It seems we're not the only ones that have grown fed up with Tree's "now you see it, now you don't" menu antics.

'Tis the Problem with Being Wishy-Washy With Your Linguine, We Suppose

We place our order, Vodka for the seafood linguine, and Ginger for the burger.  When we're asked whether or not we'd like an appetizer, it is all we can do not to reply, "No, we already ate a cheesecake," and we instead dive into the provided bread basket, all but polishing off all six slices by the time our waitress returns with the wine.  

Yes, We'll Take Another Loaf, Thanks

It is during this time that Ginger announces, as if she has had some huge philosophical epiphany, "I've come to realize that there are two types of people in the world: the fun people and the unfun people."  

Translation: Fun People Order a Bottle of Wine at Dinner (or Two or Three); Unfun People Don't

While we would consider ourselves squarely in the "fun" group, we're not sure the staff of Tree feels the same, as the person refilling our water decides to ask Vodka, "How did you hear about this place?"  (We assume they are trying to figure out how they got two more customers than usual on a Friday night.)

"Best Thing I Ever Ate," Vodka answers her, which is greeted with surprise, as if even the workers themselves had forgotten this place ever had their fifteen seconds of fame.

It Seems Instead of Serving Their Famous Linguine, Tree Was Choosing to Emboss Their Wine Glasses

Thankfully for Tree, our blog is about as popular as they are, so legions of people will not see our not-so-glowing review of their alleged Best Thing I Ever Ate linguine.  We say "alleged" because we are not convinced this is actually the dish that Danny Boome tasted on the show, being that we can't discern even the slightest hint of saffron in the broth.  

Someone Please Place "Saffron" on the Back of a Milk Carton, Because It's Missing

While the linguine noodles themselves are fairly pleasing, the accompanying mussels and clams are downright cold, and the broth itself is underwhelming at best, and overly salty at worst (even to our heavily salted palates).  

Cold as a Fish. Literally

Ginger's burger is similarly edible, but not all that special (especially when she manages to massacre it with her fork and knife, which is what she inexplicably tends to do to all burgers.  This practice causes Vodka to note, "You eat a burger in a very disturbing way.")

How Does This Possibly Happen?!

We want to say that this particular bowl of pasta is no better than what one could find at a local Olive Garden -- but then again, we love Olive Garden, so we don't wish to disparage them in such a way.  Instead, we think this dish must be like what other people -- the people who look down on Olive Garden -- taste when they go to the holiest of Italian chain eateries.  

Related Thought: Does Olive Garden Serve French Fries? Because They Should

Overall, we do not understand how one could ever be "obsessed" with this dish, and by the looks of the empty tables at Tree, it's becoming more obvious that no one really is.  Perhaps this should teach all restaurants a valuable lesson about ever removing a Best Thing I Ever Ate-featured dish from their menu: that not only will it hurt their attendance levels, but it will also do something much, much more disturbing: make them look completely "unfun."

Tree Bistro's Linguine with Clams and Mussels in Saffron Broth: 3 stars

Always Eat Dessert First

Fromage Blanc Island Cheesecake -- Chikalicious Dessert Bar

Chikalicious Dessert Bar

It appears our recent foray around Los Angeles has inspired us to continue banging through the last few restaurants on our Best Thing I Ever Ate Manhattan list, as mere weeks after returning, we can be found traipsing through the streets of the East Village in search of our next meal.  

We Had Almost Forgotten What It Was Like to Eat With a Camera and Vodka Frantically Scribbling Notes

Our initial plan had been to meet at Tree Bistro, but being that the place doesn't open until 5:00 PM -- a full fifteen minutes away -- and that we have a patience of a couple of fleas with ADD, we decide to flip our itinerary and head to Chikalicious Dessert Bar first.  This means that we are going to consume a bevy of desserts before our actual dinner, which, all in all, does not seem like the worst plan we have ever come up with.

Particularly Because the Word "Bar" Is in the Restaurant's Name

We're not quite sure what has taken us so long to make our way to Chikalicious, other than the fact that we never really understood the concept of the place.  Within seconds of sitting down on its bar stools, it becomes obvious that we still don't, as we are incapable -- separately but equally -- of figuring out the menu.  

Here's Our Order: Wine and Cheesecake. Snap to It

While we are here to taste Johnny Iuzzini's Best Thing I Ever Ate BETTER THAN MINE dish, the fromage blanc island cheesecake, we also -- naturally -- would like to order some cocktails.  But, in a comprehension challenge that takes Vodka way too long to figure out, at Chikalicious, the only way to order the cheesecake is through the prix fixe menu, which includes an amuse and a plate of petit fours.  

Why Is All of This Menu Reading Standing Between Us and Our Booze?

While Vodka struggles with this concept, Ginger is currently in a full-on internal debate about the optional wine pairing that could come with the cheesecake, and it is not until one of the staff members walks us through the menu like we're illiterate kindergarteners that we finally seem to get the hang of it.

At This Point, We Wouldn't Be Surprised If We Inexplicably Ended Up Ordering a Pastrami Sandwich

We choose one prix fixe item, for which Ginger picks the wine pairing, and Vodka selects a glass of "Zinsanity" red wine, merely because it is just about the only one on the whole alcohol menu that does not seem to be sweet.  

The Lucy and Ethel of the Wine World

At Chikalicious, all of the desserts are prepared directly in front of you, as if they're craft cocktails at a hipster bar.  This may be a great concept for some people, but for us, it is distracting at best and awkward at worst.  

Are We Supposed to Talk to Each Other or Watch You? It's All So Confusing

The beauty of Chikalicious's creations cannot be denied, but frankly, we don't really care to see our sugar blended -- just bring us something to eat, and we'll eat it, no questions asked.  

Please Note Our Proximity to the All-Important Blender

We are given our miniature amuse dish, but what we are NOT given is a single clue as to what it consists of ("Tea?  It tastes like tea.  Do you think it's tea?" = repeat this ten times, and this is us trying to figure out what we're eating).  

Apparently, If You Want an Explanation at Chikalicious, You Have to Read the Menu

It is strictly "fine," as are our respective glasses of wine, but they are also not the reason we are here.  That honor belongs to the cheesecake, and when it is placed before us, even we can't deny that it looks exactly like something we would love.

Aka It Looks Like Melted Ice Cream -- Our Ideal Dessert Texture

Atop a pile of shaved ice, a rounded mound of... well, we have no idea what it is, really, but it is definitely not a cheesecake we're used to.

It is better.

What Is This Majesty?

"I literally would eat this for every meal," Ginger says after barely having swallowed her first spoonful.  

To Be Fair, It Was a Fairly Spoonful

Light and astoundingly fluffy, this cheesecake is more like a molded pudding than an actual cake, and it is topped by a solid pour of heavy cream.  Despite Chikalicious's open dessert bar atmosphere, we are still completely flummoxed as to how it was created, and the staff does not appear overly eager to reveal, well, much of anything.  

All We Know Is A Lot Seemed to Happen In That Blender

What we are certain of is that this cheesecake -- or "cheesecake," as the case may be -- just may be the best one we have ever had, both due to its creamy texture and its only lightly sweetened flavor.  

Could We Have Another to Go In Case Our Dinner Doesn't Work Out?

We have barely recovered from our love of the cheesecake when a tiny plate of three petit fours is placed before us.  

They're Not Kidding About the "Petite" Bit

While Chika herself does deign to tell us what each of them are, we're still too busy thinking about the previous dessert (and to be fair, getting loaded from our glasses of wine) to listen.  

The Infamous Chika, Partially Blocked by Vodka's Empty Wine Glass

We believe they consist of some sort of chai tea creation, and coconut marshmallow, and something that, when Ginger attempted to take her "half bite" of it, she ended up placing ninety-percent of it in her mouth.  ("Here's your half," she says to Vodka).  

Now You See It, Now You Don't

Vodka notes that the plate the petit fours have arrived on looks like something one could find in Epcot -- our highest form of praise -- which we nevertheless can only hope that the Chikalicious staff did not overhear, as we feel like we might just be the two biggest dopes to ever grace their premises.

Moral of Our Story: We Never Know What We're Eating and We Never Really Care

Having now effectively pre-gamed our dinner with sweet wine and cheesecake, we stumble out of the premises and onto our next meal, armed with the thought that always eating dessert first just may be a concept we could get behind.

Particularly, if said dessert is served at a bar.

Chikalicious Dessert Bar's Fromage Blanc Island Cheesecake: 5 stars*

*Certifiable Best Thing We Ever Ate