How and where to chowdah

MJ O'Connor's Boston Massachusetts

Ugly, but Hall of Fame Chowdah is found here.

How to chowdah head

Welcome back OCD addled chowdah* head readers, to the Pot and Pan Handler’s mischievous blog, where politics as usual means; politically incorrect is the correct course of action. Suck ass. See? Today we’re talking petty annoyances that end in a cup o’ chowdah, so good it almost changed our political outlook. Suck ass. Like I said, almost, changed our political outlook.

It’s not personal, it’s just business. LORD BUSINESS.

It started where most chowdah stories do, in the soviet people’s republic of Boston, Massachusetts. It is morning, we’re in a hotel and we just realized that the “convenient” service that booked our flight back home, booked it for exactly one year later to the day when we needed to fly back. How convenient and to make matters even more convenient, there’s no free wifi. This fact leaves us with the option of using the hotel “business center” to contact the booking service. Rectifying this problem takes close to 1 ½ hours and guess what? It only costs $50 freaking bucks a half hour. Great, the booking agency also booked this hotel, for business millionaires, too. They’re not good at this… suck ass.

It is now afternoon and our wallet is $170 dollars lighter than when we arrived. Fortunately there’s a concierge selling bus tours of the city. Why not? We purchase two tickets and are told, the tour bus swings by the hotel every twenty minutes. An hour and forty five minutes later, the first tour bus we’ve seen pulls up. The door swings open and we bustle forth to get on. In true masshole fashion, the driver snottily remarks “The buhs is fuhl.” While glaring at us like this should’ve been painfully obvious. “Okay, we’ve been waiting for almost two hours will another one be by soon?” We reply. He reaches for his phone and says, “I’ll cahl mah bahs.” Slams the door shut and leaves. Fuckin’ masshole, suck ass.

Plan C: Chowdah

We wait another forty minutes and nothing… We give up. Fortunately the doorman has been witness to us waiting all afternoon and is willing to vouch for us when we demand our money back from the concierge. We’re informed she has already left for the day. Which is weird because five minutes later she happily refunds the money after the doorman vouches for us. This of course costs us another ten bucks, they work for tips after all. Suck, ass.

It is now nearing evening and we haven’t eaten. Plan A and B are broken… on to plan C. What is plan C? We don’t have a freakin’ plan C. Who makes a plan C? Not freakin’ us, that’s who. Hunger is the only language we understand, because no one can understand what massholes say. The deep seeded language of hunger drives us to do the unthinkable, go to the restaurant in the lobby. Besides, we need a beer, assuming of course that we can afford one at a lobby bar in the hotel for business millionaires. Suck, ass.

MJ O'Connors Boston, Massachusetts from inside the hotel.

Inside MJ O’Connor’s; less blurry than it appears.

GOOOOOoooooooaaaaaaallll! MJ O’Connor’s

We head into the faux Irish bar in the hotel lobby. Inside it is properly dark with the requisite wood paneling, like most Irish bars in the United States and filled with retro pub furniture and antique signage. Unlike actual Dublin bars filled with clean modern Scandinavian sculptured tables and weird chairs. We find a spot at the bar, where of course they have TV’s tuned into ESPN and soccer is on. In accordance to the ESPN/Irish Bar United States charter that states; it is our mission to convince Americans in pubs across the United States that soccer is something they really enjoy. Suck, ass. It hasn’t worked yet.

We acquire two moderately priced beers and peruse the menu while enjoying the art of ignoring soccer. A glance at the menu and I’m ready to order… Hall of fame winning Chowdah! I didn’t know there was a chowdah hall of fame, mustard hall of fame, yes, Spam museum, yes, chowdah hall of fame, who’dvethunk? Relishing redemption from the soupy, insipid broth, presented to us as chowdah from a steak house in the suburbs a few nights previous, I’m putting my chowdahead hat on and I am going to get busy. Hellz, yass.

MJ O'Connor's Menu contains a hall of fame chowder.

Hall of Fame Chowdah, they had us at Hall.

Is it me or is it chili in here?

When the expedient bar tender glides over to take our order she mentions that the special that day was something near and dear to our hearts; Chili. Whatever else we had thought about ordering has now fled our minds like Americans from the threat of a soccer game. Chowdah & Chili the alliteration was more than enough reason to order this combination. Yet, we looked forward to eating them too. Things are looking up since we came in here. Hellz, yass.

We barely had time to appreciate the much needed beers before the bartender with great flourish placed the chili & chowdah in front of us. We were in awe of the alliteration. Otherwise they looked like a cup of chili and a cup of chowdah… Exactly, like a cup of chili and a cup of chowdah. Which was nice, because that’s what we ordered, but there wasn’t anything exceptional looking about either one. I suppose with the possible exception of the chili had been shoved in a broiler and the cheese was melted across the top, similar to a French onion soup. Effective garnish, I suppose. Hellz yass.

MJ O'Connor's Hall of Fame Chowdah.

Looks typical, but this chowdah is on point.

Chowdah  ya’ think it tasted?

Good, great, exceptional, superlative, the list goes on. Creamy, unctuous, clammy and savory, not overly heavily creamed, it tastes light. Like a light, flaky, pastry that can fool you into thinking it’s good for you, despite the part of you responsible for reason that knows that shear butter and sugar are not good for you. It’s like that. Deceptively light and absolutely stunningly tasty and we’re no strangers to chowdah. This is the best we’ve had. Hellz, yass!

The chili on the other hand, spicy, meaty and complex, this chili has layers of flavor like the proverbial onion. It has balls. This is typically hard to find in New England where buttermilk is considered too spicy to consider consuming in anything more than a thimble worth. At MJ O’Connor’s they’re clearly not sensitive about offending some poor massholes sense of spicy sensibilities and they serve their chili aggressively seasoned and for this we thank them. Hellz yass…

Boston, Massachusetts MJ O'Connor's Chili.

Not chowdah, because it’s chili in here.

We would go back for either of these any freakin’ time. We never did try anything else but will go back for a hearty bowl of alliteration, chili & chowder at MJ O’Connor’s  as soon as we’re back in the soviet people’s republic of Boston, Massachusetts. Probably as soon as we escape the wheezing and coughing hellhole they call an airport at Boston, Logan. And you probably should too.

*Chowdah, to pronounce or spell it otherwise would end up in the revocation of our New English card.

Coming soon: Fuggetaboudit we get lucky and score seats at Cantina Italiana without reservations on a Friday night in the soviet people’s republic of Boston, Massachusetts’ Little Italy, the North End. Hellz, yass. We’ll see you then, until then may the odds be ever in your flavor. – The Pot & Pan Handler

The Pot & Pan Handler are free range, escaped restaurant robots who travelled back in time with our best friend for some reason. Did I mention our best friend is a blueberry pie? These happy days are yours and mine, these happy days are yours, and, mine, hap-py, days.

Homer, we’re all out of vodka! – Ron Howard



Posted in Bars, Beer, Boston, Chili, Chowder, Massachusetts Tagged with: , , , , , , , , , , ,

BLT the Death of a Restaurant; a Popover Recipe

BLT Restaurant Atlanta, GA

BLT… Not the sandwich, a pissy French Chef’s American Steakhouse.

Atlanta’s Bistro Laurent Tourendel passed away on December 31st 2016 surrounded by well-wishers and the W hotel. Born on May 1st, 2009 BLT was a mere 7 years young. BLT was cultured and enjoyed serving American style steakhouse food with French technique and more than a little panache.

BLT Crabcakes Atlanta, GA

Feeling crabby? Celebrate with cake & remoulade.

Always welcoming, BLT will be remembered for free amuse bouches and popovers for every visitor. No one left BLT hungry, in fact most found themselves full before the entrees were even received. Always the kind benefactor every visitor was given a copy of BLT’s popover recipe to take home and enjoy in the comfort of their own home.

BLT Popover Recipe

Hey BLT, Popover sometime.

BLT will be remembered fondly for their steaks, short ribs and take on classic steakhouse sides such as creamed spinach and au gratin potatoes.

BLT Beef Chart

BLT’s got beef.

BLT is survived by the W hotel, their popover recipe and the trendy form meets functionless art Nuevo restaurant. Occupied by hipster, DJ driven, mixologists slanging new world cocktails with the requisite tattoos and facial hair, sculptured chairs and a revolving menu of Con-fusion cuisine. Their new menu possibly even contains the always diabolical and every bit the opposite of refreshing rhubarb jus. The horror.

BLT Au Gratin Potatoes

If your potatoes aren’t a dairy product… You don’t know what you’re doing. Ask BLT.

BLT Au Gratin Streeetch

Au gratins pass the important stretch test.

We will always remember and appreciate how BLT would hide their delicious, creamy burrata cheese beneath a pile of healthy greens. We learned to appreciate a healthy looking garnish, so you could call your delicious, creamy and juicy cheese a healthy salad. For this BLT among other reasons, you will be missed. RIP BLT Steak, Atlanta.

Burrata Cheese Salad, BLT Atlanta, GA

See? It’s a salad, eating healthy bitches.

BLT Burrata Cheese, Atlanta, GA

Yum… the creamy, juicy center of BLT’s burrata.

BLT’s Popover recipe

-Makes 12

You will need:

4 cups warmed milk

8 eggs

4 cups

1 ½ heaping Tablespoon of salt

2 ½ cups grated gruyere

Popover pan

You will do:

Place the popover pan in the oven and heat both to 350 degrees.

Gently warm milk over low heat and set aside.

Whisk the eggs until frothy and slowly whisk in the milk (have patience young Jedi, do this slowly a technique called tempering ensures the eggs won’t begin to cook).

Set mixture aside.

Sift the flour with the salt.

Slowly add dry mixture to the wet until mostly smooth. (Don’t be afraid of a couple lumps.)

Once mixtures are combined, remove popover pan from oven and spray with non-stick spray, (we don’t keep that shit around, we just grease with butter.)

Now, make sure your batter is still warm at least room temp, fill each popover cup ¾ full.

Garnish each popover with an approximate 2 ½ Tablespoon of grated cheese.

Bake at 350 degrees for 50 minutes; make sure to rotate the pan half a turn after 15 minutes of baking.

Remove from oven eat, and repeat.

Do try this at home.

BLT Popovers

Popovers… You don’t need a fancy BLT butter, but it can’t hurt.

Coming soon; we try to escape Ted Turner’s whim of Atlanta, without Wolf Blitzer howling about Russian intervention. Then, our travels take us to Beantown, where we find delectable steak in the suburbs. We also found the worst Michelada ever and were privy to award winning chowdah and an exquisite bowl of chili, in a very unlikely place. Until then dear readers, may the odds be ever in your flavor.

View of Atlanta from the W hotel

There’s always bitchin’ cars in this parking lot.

CNN Atlanta, GA

Awoooooooo Russian influence, awoooooo.

Posted in Appetizers, Atlanta, Bars, Dinner, Georgia, Lunch, Popovers, Side Dishes, Steak Tagged with: , , , , , , ,

Dora Charles; a Pleasure to Meatloaf you, it is easy being cheesy.

Dora Charles' Cheesy Meatloaf with mushroom sauce.

Cheesy Meatloaf, it is easy being cheesy.

Welcome back, disoriented readers to the Pot and Pan Handler’s deviant blog, where this week we are cooking the books. Cheesy Meatloaf from Dora Charles’ book A Real Southern Cook in Her Savannah Kitchen, to be exact, however to get to the meat of this story we’ve got to start where most stories do, at the beginning…

We are biscuit sluts. This is born of the fact that we were both born and raised in the Northern half of the United States. Totally made up fact; there are no edible biscuits north of the Mason Dixon Line, just kidding, the north has biscuit technology, but rarely utilizes it. Thus our fascination.

One day we were watching Food TV’s the Best Thing I Ever Ate. If you’ve never seen it, it is probably the most vapid thing on TV. Essentially Chefs, Celebrities and Celebrity “Chefs” all talk about something they’ve had to eat that was, in their minds, the best thing they’ve eaten of a certain category or subcategory. This episode was the best of free. Tyler Florence mentioned Hoe Cakes & cheddar biscuits at Paula Deen’s restaurant Lady & Sons. They had us at cheddar, cheddar and free.

Lady & Sons

Eventually our travels took us to Savannah Georgia, where we put in a reservation at Lady & Sons and began to anticipate biscuits. I would be remiss if I didn’t mention that Lady & Sons is a strange, strange restaurant. You put in your name, there are two seatings when your seating time is imminent, they take everyone for that time slot and put you in a gift shop, like a Disney theme park or museum. There they leave you for twenty minutes. You will feel like you’re being watched. Everywhere you look, EVERYTHING in the place has Paula Deen’s face on it. EVERYTHING. From aardvark skin boots, to zeppelins and everything in between all plastered with Deen’s floating, smiling face.

Soon we were seated we got the aforementioned Hoe Cakes and biscuit. It remains the best biscuit we’ve ever had.  Buttery, flaky and distended with delicious & salty cheddar cheese, that biscuit was delectable the Hoe cakes were pretty good too. So were the patty melt and chicken pot pie, but greedy Paula Deen expected us to pay for those, bitch.  However, that’s a different post.

Cheddar Biscuits & Hoe Cakes @ Lady & Sons

Give us, us free. Lady & Son’s Cheddar biscuit.

Fast forward a couple of years and Paula Deen becomes a celebrity food pariah after settling a racism claim out of court. Throughout the case employees of Paula Deens’ were asked to give depositions. After Deens’ head cook was deposed, she was soon thereafter unceremoniously fired. Then she wrote a cook book. My head was sweating profusely as math is not my strong suit. If Miss Charles worked at Lady & Sons for the last 22 years, that would mean she was the chef when we ate there 6 years ago. After creakily working on this elaborate equation, it was decided, Miss Charles’ book could possibly contain her recipe for cheddar biscuits. YES!

Dora Charles' A Real Southern Cook in Her Savannah Kitchen.

If you can’t beat ’em, write a cookbook.


NO! Wrong. There are three biscuit recipes included in Miss Charles’ book, one made with mayo, whaaaaat? Yeah, I know right. One is made with Sprite, WTH? I know. The other uses Bisquick. Not a cheddar buttermilk biscuit recipe in the bunch.

There are a ton of good southern recipes however. Miss Charles’ is clearly a master of on hand cooking. Some of the recipes are seasonal and scratch made, others use the help of canned or boxed food, margarine or other less than ideal ingredients. Whatever she has on hand, she writes in her book: “Country people in the South had to make do with what was at hand, what they could grow or trade or preserve,” “I see this food as a tribute to those who came before me, who worked so incredibly hard for so little.”


You know the old saying, when life hands ya’ cheddah, make meatloaf? Oh, you don’t? Shut up, that’s totally a legit and oft chronicled quote. Either by Samuel Clemens, or his sexually repressed pseudonym (steam power is the lamest of all powers) or maybe Ben Franklin. It’s historic in our kitchen. So with my mind on cheddar, and cheddar in the fridge, I set out to make Dora Charles’ Cheesy Meatloaf with Mushroom Sauce. Spoiler alert the mushroom sauce is cheese too! Follow us to the kitchen & we’ll show you how to make it…

For the meatloaf you will need:

3 LBS ground beef (Miss Charles’ uses 80/20 we used 90/10 the cheese brings enough fat to the party.)

2 Cups thickly shredded cheddar cheese

1 teaspoon Lawry’s seasoned salt (we used our own house made spice blend)

Salt to taste about 1 scant teaspoon

1 teaspoon granulated garlic

½ teaspoon fresh ground black pepper

1 cup finely chopped green bell pepper (we used red, because we like things that taste good.)

1 cup finely chopped yellow onion

½ cup sour cream

2 Tablespoons Worcestershire sauce (easier to add than it is to say, woostahshire.)

3 Large Eggs

Psycho Kitchen Clown.

Psychotic Kitchen Clown Sez: use ground up lion dong to season like a deranged samurai.

You will do:

Set the oven to 350 degrees and spray a baking sheet w/ baking spray (we lined a tray with parchment paper)

Put the beef and cheese in a very large bowl and add seasoning, salt, garlic, black pepper, bell pepper and onion, set aside.

Cheese, Beef & Seasoning.

Meat & Cheese? Pass the bowl.

In a small bowl whisk Worcestershire and sour cream together, add eggs and beat all together. Thoroughly incorporate and add to meat mixture. Using your (clean) hands combine all until mixed well.

Egg Mixture for Cheesy Meatloaf

Beat me.

Break off a small chunk and fry, taste for seasoning, and add any if necessary. Place mixture on the baking tray and pat it into a long oblong loaf about a foot long, 5 inches wide and 2 ¼ inches tall. The easiest way to do this is slap that shit into place.

Cheesy Meatloaf

Slapped that shit into shape.

Bake for about an hour. When it’s finished the top will brown, and the top of the loaf will feel firm when patted.  Remove from oven and let rest for 15 min…

Baked Cheesy Meatloaf

Last time we go to a public pool.

Cheesy Meatloaf

Whenever the skull plate is out, we’re eating good.

Meanwhile… say cheese

For the Mushroom sauce you will need:

1 (14 ½) can of condensed cream of mushroom soup (we had some mushrooms lying around so we just made our own… cheesy, earthy and luxurious, but that’s a different post.)

¼ teaspoon salt or more if desired (seriously there’s salt in the cheese, this should be enough.)

¼ heaped teaspoon minced garlic

¼ teaspoon black pepper

1 ¾ cup heavy cream

2 cups thinly shredded mild sharp cheddar cheese

Mushroom & Cheese Sauce

Sooo cheesy.

You will do:

Heat the mushroom soup in a large saucepan, uncovered, over medium low heat, add the salt, garlic, and black pepper, mix well. Turn down the heat to low and slowly add the cream. Add cheese in bunches, take off of the heat, whisk until smooth. Taste for salt, add some if desired. Keep in a warm oven if you can’t serve immediately.

Slice the meatloaf and spoon sauce over each slice. Eternal order of pretentious dicks tip of the week: Serve this meatloaf and sauce with roasted broccoli or cauliflower. Those veggies love to be cloaked in cheese sauce like tortilla chips at the stadium. Juicy, meaty, cheesy, like a cheeseburger, without all the pesky carbs, if you like a cheeseburger, you’ll love this meatloaf. Thanks Dora Charles.

Cheesy Meatloaf with Roasted Broccoli

Eat me. – Cheesy Meatloaf

Coming soon:

We continue to cower in the shadows of Ted Turner’s whim, Atlanta, Georgia. There, once cleverly hidden in the W hotel, is a delightfully casual, yet ambitious restaurant that shares their name with a humble sandwich, BLT. A pissy French chef’s take on an American steak house, we promise, there will be a lot at steak. Until then, may the odds be ever in your flavor.

*Editor’s note: we cut this recipe by 1/3 because, it’s a big loaf and there are only two of us. As the pics show, the results were still fabulous.

The Pot & Pan Handler are feral, food obsessed, spatula wielding, escaped restaurant nomads with stories to tell, so we tell them to you. Live and let dine. Only free range garlic and cage free peppers were used in the making of this loaf.






Posted in Dora Charles, Entertaining, How to, Lady & Sons, Lunch, Savannah Tagged with: , , , , ,

Twin Smokers because smoking makes ya’ look cool.

Twin Smoker's BBQ Atlanta, GA

Twin Smokers, twice as cool.

Welcome back high functioning alcoholics, to the Pot & Pan Handler’s devious blog, today’s devotion is Ted Turner’s whim, Atlanta. That’s where we marched with the resolution of General Sherman, in order to devour the entire city. Of course devouring the city was figurative in our case, it was quite a bit more literal in the case of General Sherman. However, I digress. When you’re in the American South, it would be amoral to go back home without acquiring some BBQ. We found some in the form of Twin Smoker’s BBQ. You must be at least this tall to ride, keep your arms inside the car at all times, we’re going to Twin Smoker’s and this time we’re bringing you with us.

CNN, Atlanta, Georgia

Don’t watch? We’ll force ya’ to at the airport.

Smoke ‘em if ya’ got ‘em.

There we were, in the very shadow of America’s least watched network, Ted Turner’s CNN. Like blight on the landscape the very building blocks out the light of the sun on an otherwise beautifully sunny day. There, cowering in the shadow of the Mr. Turner’s evil hideout you can find Twin Smokers BBQ.

When you walk in the doors to Twin Smokers, you are immediately confronted with their call to arms… wood. Stacks of wood, labeled for particular consumption. A testament to their professionalism, they take the big picture look at Q at Twin Smokers, throwing all the regional bickering aside. The result is a hearty respect for Q in general, making various woods a necessity. Not only do they do smoked chicken and pork with hickory and white oak, they’re also smoking beef Texas style with mesquite and post oak. Smoked onsite with house made rubs and meat sourced from local farms, they’re doing it right.

Hardwoods at Twin Smoker's BBQ Atlanta, GA

Hey, psst, wanna see my wood?

What wood you do?

What wood would we do? That answer is easy, both, a half rack of hickory smoked pork ribs and a mesquite smoked beef brisket sandwich. Served in true fastidious, BBQ joint fashion with a side of overlooked and underwhelming beans with onions, Twin Smoker’s evidently spends a lot of time on their meat with less focus on the sides, or at least not on the scoop and serve beans.

Look, this isn’t a single isolated incidence; there is a severe prevalence all over the United States of BBQ joints serving amazing meats alongside substandard sides and factory buns. We the people deserve better and should rise up, grab a bottle of BBQ sauce and demand improvements. We have a dream.

Beef Brisket at Twin Smoker's BBQ, Atlanta, GA

Brisky business indeed.

Twin Smokers is not exempt from this phenomenon. Let’s examine their results. We’ll start with the post oak and mesquite smoked brisket, juicy, fatty and smoky the brisket is a revelation. The mouth feel is exceptional as it nearly dissolves on your tongue as you chew. Properly saturating the factory buns with fatty deliciousness, the sandwich properly needs to be placed upside down in-between bites. Thus to ensure the macerated bun doesn’t fall apart leaving you to eat BBQ with a fork. Like a bitch. That, excited readers is one of the litmus tests that all BBQ sandwiches should be held to.

Brisket Sandwich, Twin Smoker's BBQ, Atlanta. GA

Don’t eat Q like a bitch. Turn that crown upside down.

Twin Smoker’s further their professional bio with one revealing taste of their ribs. Anyone can make true fall off the bone ribs simply by overcooking them. The kings of Q have decreed that a superior BBQ is evidenced by the bite. A slight chewiness that pulls a bite off the bone, but leaves the rest of the succulent meat firmly adhered to the bone is the Q snob calling card. Otherwise all the meat falls off the bone, leaving you to resort to eating Q with a fork. Once again, like a bitch. Twin Smoker’s follows the decree of the eternal order of Q snobs calling card, all while maintaining the balance of an inherently juicy ass rib. Objects in mouth may be tastier than they appear. These guys are not amateurs.

Smoked Ribs at Twin Smoker's BBQ, Atlanta, GA

When I’m still on the pig, I’m near the bacon. -Ribs

Bean Counter

Side, side, slippity sides, the bane of the BBQ restaurant, look I get it, BBQ is labor intensive. With all the prep and time to turn out slow cooked in house rubbed meats the inherent labor is expensive. Whether you’re paying one single pit master overtime or a crew of poorly trained line cooks you’re going to feel it in the labor costs. This of course makes Q owners turn to easily made scoop and serve items, like coleslaw, and BBQ beans. There’s nothing wrong with that inherently as Q is picnic/reunion/celebration food as long as the sides don’t feel like an afterthought.

Beans at Twin Smoker's BBQ, Atlanta, GA

Where ya’ bean? Don’t order me.-Beans

My sister is a vegetarian, it fills me with sadness every time I see her navigate a restaurant menu and receive, eventually a plate full of vegetarian after thoughts, with no particular composure, balance or technique to the preparation of. That’s what the beans felt like at Twin Smoker’s. There, simply because it’s expected. Hey, it’s an easy fix, some chili powder a pinch of salt, or some garlic, you’re in flavor town.  Until then you’re taking the exit ramp to bland city. Don’t count beans like us, get more meats. The meat preparation at Twin Smokers is nearly above reproach.

Pork Butts prepared for smoker at Twin Smoker's, Atlanta, GA

Butt rubbing at Twin Smokers. Not as sexy as it sounds.

Eternal Order of Pretentious Dicks Travel Tip of the Week

As we are members of the Eternal Order of Pretentious Dicks it is our obligation to share with you a Pretentious Dick travel tip. If you are like us, then you might be upper white trash and if so… When you buy a can of beer at Twin Smoker’s they’ll give you a free can koozie. Nothing says white trash like a koozie. We had two, we still have one, but one got lost in a hotel parking lot in Virginia, maybe, or was it Asheville? Either way, curious readers that’s a different post, until then live and let dine and may the odds be ever in your flavor. – Pot and Pan Handler

Twin Smokers Koozie

May there always be a beer in your koozie. Made up Irish proverb

Coming soon: We’re still exploring the city of Turner’s whim Atlanta, in the heart of downtown, we find a BLT, not the sandwich, but the pissy, French chef, Laurent Tourondel. Chef Tourondel was bringing French bistro technique to an American steak house in the W hotel. Until the W closed BLT Steak in favor of a DJ booth and opened an ironically named spa resort social hangout for Atlanta’s overpaid and or most beautifully fake people. The menu is too terrifying to post here, but I’m fairly sure it includes rhubarb jus…  The horror.

The Twin Smokers' Atlanta, GA

Congratulations, you’ve had twins.

The Pot and Pan Handler are fearless food porn paparazzi and spatula waving, kitchen line cooks escaped from a restaurant near you. No Ted Turner’s were harmed in the making in the making of this post.

Posted in Atlanta, Bars, BBQ, Lunch, Pubs, Saloons Tagged with: , , , , , , , ,

Gladys Knight’s Chicken & Waffles

Gladys Knight's Chicken & Waffles Atlanta, Georgia

Gladys Knight’s Chicken & Waffles. Signature? WTH? Mine wasn’t autographed.

Gladys Knight’s Chicken & Waffles

Welcome back to the Pot and Pan Handler’s nefarious blog edition; Gladys Knight’s Chicken & Waffles.  When we took the midnight train to Georgia, our destination was Ted Turner’s whim, Atlanta. We jumped at the chance, because who knows when Mr. Turner will send Atlanta to the future.  Or possibly will Atlanta to an alternate reality where people watch CNN willingly, instead of when forced to in airports. Does it get more Georgian than chicken & waffles? I don’t know, but I do know it doesn’t get more Georgian than Gladys Knight, so I had to go.

CNN, Atlanta, Georgia

Somebody please watch. Anybody?

Eight Mile          

According to GPS coordinates our hotel is eight miles from Gladys Knight’s Chicken & Waffles. After an urban hike I’ll get there just in time to for a lunch of fried chicken & waffles. What the GPS failed to mention is this hike would be through a part of Atlanta where tourists probably rarely find themselves.  Funny thing is I’ve walked near here before just a couple blocks away, the same walk is filled with gentrified developments containing fair trade coffee shops on every corner.

Just a few blocks from the hotel it began. First it was the friendly couple, dressed at the height of I own my own shopping cart fashion, they weave a tale of falling on hard times, can I spare some money? Of course I can. It was done. Word on the street is there is a white kid in the neighborhood and he’s got money. The next encounter was less pleasant.

I was in his sights immediately, desperately I try to avoid making eye contact, but his homeless voodoo made this impossible. Dressed in jeans and one of those jackets with patches on the elbows, like a college professor without tenure, forced to wander the streets of Atlanta, begging for money to fund his research, he begins to tell me his tale.  Long story short, he has fallen on hard luck, could I spare some money? Not this time. I’ve got no time for this, I try to continue on, and realize suddenly that I’m now handing him a dollar. I’m no match for homeless voodoo.

He looks at me with profound disappointment as if I’ve wronged him greatly and he a gentleman will not resort to pointing out my rather vast shortcomings in public. He shakes his head and amazingly I feel guilty. Maybe he’s right. Perhaps I should be spending more time in Atlanta, start a homeless shelter for disenfranchised inner city youth, hey! How the hell did he do that? Anyway back to the streets.


There is a disheveled man screaming at a section of concrete that has clearly wronged him. In a garbled guttural roar he registers his dissatisfaction “Flocking flagabbut ADAAA NOCKLESTEIN! He points an accusing finger at the guilty concrete and continues “NOOOTABOTITALL!” and stomps the offending concrete. He then fixes his gaze solidly on me, raises his finger like an accusatory 18th century judge and he yells “BILLIFY JAPALONAPAPACON!”  He clears his throat “Harrumph.” He continued, “Ah excuse me, are you the white kid with money?” I made that last part up. He never saw me or anyone else for that matter.

A couple of blocks later I see a man sitting on the sidewalk. He’s dressed like a 70’s rock star and apparently no one ever told him that dudes in head scarves that aren’t Santana look weird. Should I be the first? His rigid posture is simultaneously relaxed, like an outdoor, orange bell bottomed, yoga instructor. His gaze falls upon me he seems to have been anticipating my arrival.

With great gravitas, like a philosopher patiently elucidating the meaning of life he seems about to impart sage wisdom. “Are you looking to find the crossroads, my young friend?” Huh? I think. What does that mean? Is this a soul selling situation? I’ve never thought about it before but if I was going to sell my soul it wouldn’t be to a Keith Richards look alike doing yoga on the sidewalk. I look into the depths of my mind for a suitable response and eloquently state “No.” He loses interest in me and goes back to looking weird in a head scarf. Oops I forgot to tell him no one but Santana can do that.

A couple blocks after the male prostitute in a sheer half shirt with a very wet cough starts following me, I realize I’m out of change. But I still have one $1 bill, a small victory of sorts. I can see the sign for Gladys Knight’s Chicken & Waffles just up ahead. I cross the street, I’m almost there. The recessed doorway looms just beyond the yellowed menu withering in the window. I turn to enter the doorway and stop short, there’s someone standing there. “Do you have any money you can spare?” He says. There goes that dollar.

Gladys Knight's Chicken & Waffles Atlanta Georgia

Color me spray tanned. This place is old.

Gladys Knight’s Chicken & Waffles.

I step inside a time warp. It’s almost decrepitly old inside Gladys Knight’s. Dark, like an old steak house or supper club, wood walls, and black ceilings with track lighting cast an eerie Trumpian orange glow on the brown diner booths. A friendly if slightly indifferent hostess seats me in a dark booth. That’s where I wait until a slightly friendly if indifferent server, takes my order for an iced tea and a Midnight Train. Billed on the menu as four southern fried chicken wings and one original waffle, the Midnight Train to Georgia is exactly what I’m looking for. Y’know, fried chicken and waffles.

Gladys Knight's Chicken & Waffles Menu Atlanta, Georgia

Nothing sells like shameless self promotion.

Soon the aforementioned chicken and waffle plate is brusquely placed in front of me and I’m promptly forgotten about. The chicken looks artfully done, the waffle appears textbook served with plain whipped butter and caramel colored corn syrup, it’s time to get busy.

Gladys Knight's Chicken & Waffles, Atlanta, Georgia

Garnished w/an orange, this takes me back to… Sometime before I was born.

I start with the chicken. Golden brown, it’s exotic, crispy, juicy, salty, marinated chicken. Fast food wishes it could do chicken as good as this. The waffle is huge, but a fairly standard affair, similar to an institutional IHOP waffle with a standard whipped butter, lacking the fruit or jalapeno kick that sometimes accompany waffles in the south.

Waffle @ Gladys Knight's Chicken & Waffles, Atlanta, Georgia

Shmeared & corn syrup droned, I must be a politician because I’m waffling.









Would I go back? Look, although I appreciate the irony of paying that much for chicken and waffles in a restaurant with a homeless dude pan handling out front. Probably not, they only get away with charging that much because there’s a famous name on the sign. Although Gladys Knight’s chicken was pretty freakin’ good, $20 bucks for lunch, is kind of hefty.

I took a different route back to the hotel.

Coming soon: we continue to tour Ted Turner’s whim when we find Twin Smoker’s BBQ, it would be morally bankrupt to leave the ATL without checking out the Q. Until then, live & let dine- the Pot & Pan Handler.

Orange Juice

& for no reason, here’s… OJ.


Editor’s note: Pot & Pan Handler are escaped restaurant veterans and professional butchers of the English Language. No Ted Turners were harmed in the making of this post.





Posted in Atlanta, Breakfast, Brunch, Chicken & Waffles, Georgia Tagged with: , , , , , , ,

Jujube, Southern Ingredients making Asian Food.

Goat cheese won tons Jujube Chapel Hill, NC

Short Rib & Goat Cheese Won Tons. Jujube kidding me?

Jujube, not quite Asian

Welcome back fickle readers, to the Pot and Pan Handler’s blog edition Jujube. If you’ve ever heard of the Chapel Hill North Carolina Asian restaurant with a James Beard award, that is extremely difficult to get seats at… Fuggetaboudit, that’s the Lantern. Jujube is the other one, the food is still stellar, but it’s far, far easier to get a table. If using southern ingredients to make Asian foods sounds like a movement you can get behind, then read on, interested reader.

Strip tease

Look, first off the location is a bit underwhelming in a strip mall far away from most of the other trendy eateries in Chapel Hill. However, don’t let that fool you, Jujube is a legit joint, with legit food, just in a spot that’s… well, a little less legit. Once you get inside, Jujube is appropriately trendy with the requisite amount of clean modern lines. Other than the exceptional photography of subjects in and around Asia you’ll find none of the kitsch found in so many Asian restaurants.

Now hungry readers, let’s talk about something near and dear to our hearts… Steak. Steak with jasmine scented rice, peanut sauce and some forgettable pickled cucumber salad. We’ve eaten at Jujube probably ten times and one of us ALWAYS orders the steak, because we have a form of food Tourette’s syndrome 1.2.3… 1.2.3… 1.2.3… Just kidding we always order the steak because: it is off the freakin’ chain. 1.2.3… More on that later. 1.2.3…

Jujube's Line Chapel Hill, NC

Here’s where Jujube’s draws the line.

Sit down

When ya’ enter Jujube an appropriately overdressed and youthful hostess will seat you promptly with minimal sarcasm. May I suggest to those interested in a Chef’s table to ask for the kitchen bar seating. This bar is where you can watch in awe as the suitably Latino kitchen crew dance the line nimbly preparing tonight’s dishes in a dexterous display of culinary ballet. There you will also be witness to the testament of steak. Watch as the cooks expertly sear steak after steak like a mouthwatering factory line. If you weren’t going to order the steak before you’ll want to now as it is clearly one of the most popular dishes at Jujube. Or possibly because 1.2.3… Oops now you have it.

Short Rib and goat cheese won ton Jujube Chapel Hill, NC

Caution: ingredients may be less blurry than they appear.


Jujube’s travel tip #1: unless you enjoy a server who treats you as though you are as relevant to their life as polio, order booze or beer. Otherwise you’ll be prioritized somewhere between hand washing and scheduling a proctology exam on a servers list of priorities. Made up fact: the only thing in the world more inhabited by microbial pathogens than a server’s hand is, the whore of tourist traps, the Blarney stone in Ireland.

If you are on a diet, vegan, or have a religious objection to appetizers, Jujube’s is a good place to make a life style change. Try the short rib & goat cheese won tons. Stuffed to the verge of bursting with seasoned short rib, won tons are fried and garnished with generous dollops of goat cheese. Served on a plank of slate, Jujube’s doesn’t fuck around, like trendy restaurants all over, they know, plates and functional dining ware are for suckers. That’s right, that plate shit is soooo last century.

Pork belly dumplings, Jujube, Chapel Hill, NC

Pork belly, dough, soy sauce, dip, eat, repeat.

But as you might remember we always get the steak, so we often opt for steamed pork belly dumplings instead as an appetizer. As hot as it sounds, hot beef on beef action is not really our thing. Hey, we get it if it’s your thing, that’s super cool, no judging, we’d just rather mix it up a little bit. Besides these dumplings are heavenly pillows of seasoned and shredded pork belly lightly steamed within the tasty doughy confines of a superior dumpling. Served with a garlic soy sauce, these delicious dumplings are everything you could want in a starter at an Asian joint.

You’re so special

Okay, what if you are a vegetarian snowflake, with mad dietary constraints? Jujube’s still got ya’ covered in that regard as well. Their menu and their specials menu have some vegetarian options, like lettuce wraps, with corn and lima beans tossed in an a ginger, sesame dressing and topped with a dollop of lovable goat cheese. For the record they, taste incredible. Unlike many vegetarian dishes, these don’t come off as an afterthought, crisp lettuce, the pop off fresh corn and beans all covered in tangy Asian dressing, color me happy. They probably have some vegan, dairy and gluten free shit too. I don’t care.

Jujube Chapel Hill, NC, Lettuce Wraps

Voted dish least likely to result in heart attack.

Never made a misteak yet

Remember that steak we talked about? Of course you do, you’re the reader, it’s your job, just like it’s our job as writers to touch upon the subject earlier. It’s called foreshadowing, yeah, we’re like super pros at this writing shit. Just like you are pros at this reading shit, what a unique juxtaposition of talents. Your yin just got yanged. We should go bowling.

Lemon Grass Hangar Steak and Peanut Sauce, Jujube, Chapel Hill, NC

Perfectly cooked, but I can’t remember those green things.

Anyway as you’ve gathered Jujube’s steak is amazing. Grilled hangar steak expertly prepared by the aforementioned Latino line cook ballerinas. Order this, you will not be disappointed. Marinated Lemon Grass Hangar steak grilled to perfection, served with a forgettable cucumber salad and PEANUT SAUCE! Jujube’s peanut sauce is nearly a libation, if not a revelation. If it wasn’t so thick, I’d eat that shit with a straw, sweet peanut sauce, with a hint of soy and just a whisper of chili pepper. Even Hussein Bolt’s track shoes would taste good drizzled in a liberal amount of this peanut sauce.

Jasmine Scented Rice Jujube, Chapel Hill, NC

Rice, Rice, Baby. I’m sorry I just did that.

When the server asks: “Would you like jasmine scented rice?” Remember to say yes. I understand, rice no matter how scented is rather pedestrian. That is, until you add peanut sauce. Jujube’s peanut sauce pairs with rice like French pairs with fries. Sure they’ve got dessert but we usually get our dessert in the form of a bottle of local beer. OK you caught us, a couple bottles of local beer. Although I’ve heard they have peanut butter chocolate mousse. We heart peanut butter, maybe next time.

Victory Pilsner @ Jujube, Chapel Hill, NC

Victory can be yours.

Coming soon: we’re taking the midnight train to Georgia, where we visit Ted Turner’s whim, Atlanta. Why Atlanta? Four words dear reader, Gladys Knight’s Chicken & Waffles, will they be as good as the waffles and chicken at Lolo’s in Arizona? Same time, same channel, we’ll see ya’ there, until then may the odds be ever in your flavor.



Posted in Appetizers, Beer, Chapel Hill, Cocktails, Desserts, Lunch, NC, Restaurants Tagged with: , , , ,

The Not Entirely Made Up State of North Carolina.

Waterways of North Carolina

Unlike TN, North Carolina has boat technology.

The not entirely fake state of affairs in North Carolina.


North Carolina is a southeastern state on the coast of the United States. North Carolina or North Cackalacky to the exceptionally red of neck, rests lazily on top of perennially inferior South Carolina.

Angel Oak Charleston, South Carolina

This oak gives great tree, in Charleston, SC.

In regards to South Carolina BBQ, seriously South Carolina, mustard in the BBQ sauce? Really? There are far superior BBQ sauce ingredients readily handy like ground up glass or Al Roker ass juice. Secondly, football, South Carolina’s University Clemson suffers from the disillusion that they’re better at football just because their roided out felon buff shrines to HGH of a football team at Clemson beats NC teams ninety five percent of the time. Never mind that a degree from Clemson is not even worth the paper it’s printed on. Unless it’s swimming pool management, Clemson has an exceptional SPM program.

Clemson’s proud football alumni also have the unique distinction of most graduates who have previously graduated from shiv making at state pen. If they’re so good at football, where’s the pro team? Once again North Carolina proves it’s on top. In much touted made up studies, 9 out of 10 scientists agree that north is on top of south and the one who disagrees, has a degree from Clemson. Further evidence that South Carolina actually prefers being on the bottom is South Carolina’s Senator Lindsey Graham’s confirmed bachelor “accent.”

Atlanta Sky Line

Heart or rectum of the south?

Georgia also borders North Carolina’s southern edge in a universally understood subservient manner. North Carolina has not been on talking terms with Georgia as any state with cities so easily burned to the ground can never be trusted. Sorry Georgia you’re the weak link of the south. Just ask Wisconsin, they haven’t talked to Illinois since Bartman’s cow kicked over the lamp that burned the city of Chicago down and distracted the Cubs from winning the pendant, again. Sorry Illinois, you’re the weak link of the north.


Elvis has left the building.

To North Carolina’s west is Tennessee. Known as the road to Nashville, that’s exactly what it was until Elvis famously took too many shrooms and had Memphis built for his amusement. For seven absinthe filled days Elvis and a developer, attempted to recreate Disney’s It’s a Small World Ride, with a soundtrack stolen from black people, the result was Memphis. This demented little project came in over a million dollars over budget and three months past the deadline as it took two months just to hose all the vomit off of the sidewalks.

On the Northern border of North Carolina lays Virginia. Virginia is for lovers, is their state motto, which makes this uninhabitable hell hole sound a lot more livable than it really is. With an average low temp in the 20’s in the winter and average humidity laced highs of 86 degrees in the summer, their climate is best described as unlivable.

Known also as the president state because 8 presidents have come from Virginia, this phenomenon is really just evidence of how unlivable Virginia is. Essentially no one can afford to live in Washington DC, but Virginia’s stark dystopian hell-scape makes real estate affordable. Would you want to live in a neighborhood populated entirely by politicians? I know I wouldn’t, but really I would. That was my impersonation of a politician.


North Carolina can be divided into 3 distinct regions. Charlotte is the most populous, the 9th most populous city in the country and 2nd only to New York in the size of banking centers in the U.S. The Research Triangle Park or RTP is in central North Carolina and includes the capitol Raleigh, home of Duke, in Durham and Chapel Hill home of UNC. Outside Charlotte and The RTP the populace is diverse as a bowl of vanilla ice cream with no toppings and 85% of the residents speak Donald Trump in the home.

Wicked Weed Brewery Asheville, North Carolina

Wicked Weed 145% ABV, Quadruple IPA, subtle hints of oak and malt with undertones of pretentious, caramel, douchebaggery.


Pork is one export of North Carolina, like Iowa, only interesting and with fewer ethanol subsidies. Tobacco is the biggest export of North Carolina, because smoking makes you look cool. With all that smoking going on North Carolina knows the most appropriate accompaniment to smoking is drinking. With somewhere between 70-80 permitted breweries, North Carolina is taking care of all your smoking and drinking needs.

Not to mention the Moonshine. Driving in a circle really fast is the end result of North Carolina’s moonshine culture. When the federal government started taxing alcohol, ungovernable Scottish, Irish, and Scotch-Irish settlers ran to the Appalachian Mountains. Once there they hid amongst the trees, distilled alcohol and made out with their attractive cousins. Live in the woods, getting drunk and not paying taxes… Those people were heroes, except um, of course, the inbreeding thing.

Don’t drink, don’t smoke, what do ya’ do? Central North Carolina is also home to the Triangle Research Park. Originally the RTP was created as a partnership between Duke University, UNC Chapel Hill and NC State as an opportunity to give NC state students a chance to comingle with students who have money. The RTP is now one of the biggest tech hubs in the United States and exports 100,000 unemployable, tattooed and bearded hipster baristas with butt hurt distorted world views and gender studies majors throughout the country every year.


Like Virginia the climate of North Carolina is nearly intolerable. With ball sweat crushing humidity and median temperatures in the high eighties in the summer. Not to be outdone winter is nipple hardening cold in the winter at least until late afternoon when it will reaches 50 degrees again. Think you’ll enjoy that when you get done with work for the day? Hahaha you’re fucked, by the time it’s 5 PM, it is dick shrinking cold again.

There are seven different microclimates in North Carolina, unlivable, humid as ass, mountaintop cold as fuck, a hurricane just stole your baby, I can’t see shit in these valleys, my shoe melted onto the blacktop and I stepped outside and now I got a Jew fro. North Carolina also enjoys the distinction of the only climate so effed up that it’s the only place in the world where the carnivorous plant, the Venus Fly Trap grows.


North Carolina produces terrifying and disgusting food, not found in the rest of the United States. Sweet potatoes, collard greens, turnip greens, okra, butterbeans and the wickedest food in the world, kale are all produced in North Carolina. To make all of these horrifying foods edible, North Carolinians add pork, to everything. In some communities, people still eat pickled pigs feet. Likely, to confound white people.

Pork Butt

You’ve never had fake cheese on smoked pork? For shame.

As you are now aware pigs are a thriving factor in Carolina, from production, to farming, processing, to sales, North Carolina leaves BBQ beef to other states. North Carolinians know it’s only BBQ if it’s pig. Whole hog or pork shoulder depending on the part of the state you live in. A contentious subject in North Carolina, BBQ has torn more families apart than a Trump candidacy.

In the east where the pork is most prevalent BBQ is defined as smoked pork topped with vinegar, taste, is the pork still edible? If so add more vinegar. Soon the stench of vinegar assaults your sinuses and puckers your face until you have to your lips surgically removed from your tonsils, congratulations, you’ve just made eastern NC BBQ.

Outer Banks Eastern North Carolina

Outer Banks NC surf culture with a southern accent.

On the western front North Carolina BBQ is a pig of a different color. Once again this Q is smoked pork, but Lexington style Q as western NC Q is called has vinegar in the sauce, but it is mixed with, tomatoes, tomato paste, or ketchup. This little additional sweetness brings the vinegar in check and offers a more balanced approach to Q. You know like they do in almost every other notable & not so notable BBQ states across the nation. If not the world. Notice, that North Carolina doesn’t use mustard in the Q like South Carolina does, because although they might like BBQ to pucker your face like unsweetened lemonade, North Carolinians are not insane.

Mountains of Western North Carolina

That’s why they call ’em smoky. No it’s not Denver.


Rural and inner city North Carolina have very little in common until you mention cheap labor. Looking for a produce picker, or back of house service industry employee who doesn’t speak Spanish in the home? This would prove to be futile, like Diogenes of Sinope hopelessly wandering the earth looking for an honest man.

Totally, not made up fact: in some rural NC counties, as much as 50% of the population speaks Spanish in the home.  Yet we both know that is not the result of a bilingual public education. Does this contradict what I said earlier about rural NC is as diverse as vanilla ice cream…. Blah, blah, blah? Yes of course it does, I told ya’ this is my impersonation of a politician. Now I’ll tell ya’ that green is blue and water isn’t wet.

The nutshell

So educated readers, that was my comprehensive, if not entirely true state of affairs in the state of North Carolina. Stay tuned for more made up states when we write about the Soviet People’s Republic of Massachusetts. Until then there will be more food and fun in Chapel Hill we’re eating not quite Asian when we go to Jujube, thanks for reading and may the odds be ever in your flavor. –Pot and Pan Handler


Posted in Atlanta, NC, SC, Tennesee Tagged with: , , , , , , , ,

Carolina’s in Arizona, The Quintessential Taco Dive.

Carolina's Phoenix, Arizona

Carolina’s the taste of industrial.

Welcome worldly readers, to the Pot & Pan Handler’s obscure blog Carolina’s edition. Carolina’s is Phoenix Arizona’s quintessential taco dive or taco divine, at least from our point of view. Handmade tortillas put this restaurant on Phoenix’s map, but only for locals in the know, because Carolina’s is off the beaten path. We not only found Carolina’s but we ate the shit out of it, and can’t wait to do it again. Here’s how we got there…

Since my parents knew we would be in Phoenix for a few days, they asked their neighbor Louis. Oops, excuse me for a minute. (Hey, Louis, sorry if I’m spelling your name wrong, the subject never came up yo). Louis, is a Phoenix native, my parents rightly figured he would have a finger on the pulse of Arizona cuisine. He told us to go to Lolo’s, it was good. He also told us to go to Carolina’s, it was great.

The intersection of out of and the way

Out of the way, or in an industrial area, are pretty polite ways of saying, Carolina’s is in the hood. There’s a reason there are bars on the windows, right? But, don’t let that stop you from going, if there is anyplace worth putting away your Purell sanitized, pristine, touristy sensibilities, Carolina’s is it.

Some say the religion of BBQ (in the south, BBQ is a religion, often contentiously so) was the first to integrate. Carolina’s is like that. Everybody eats there; you’ll see custom tailored, Wall Street power suits, construction dudes, cops, doctors, rappers, men, women, gay, straight, white, black, brown, taco bell employees, super heroes, and Manuel while there. Yeah, that’s right, Manuel… Everybody.

Carolina's hand made tortillas Phoenix, Arizona

Menudo. Nothing says legit Mexican like tripe.

House paint and cinderblocks

Inside and out Carolina’s is minimalist. Not minimalist in a hipster, linear, modern, Danish, juxtaposition of form and function approach. Instead Carolina’s minimalist manner is a means to an end, just enough to get the job done. There is nothing fancy here. The staff is minimally aware of your existence. They are a humming machine of industry. You are just another cog in the wheel of efficiency and you are expected to order as such. Order the Machaca tacos, quickly and get the fuck out of the way, serve yourself from the fountain soda machine and grab a bunch of napkins you’re going to need them. Don’t forget the hot sauce either; it’s as delicious as the tacos themselves.

What’s that fickle reader?  Reconstituted, dried, Mexican spiced meats aren’t your thing? Fortunately Carolina’s serves chicken tacos too, on the same banging, handmade tortillas. What’s that, dear reader? Are the chicken tacos on banging house made tortillas as good? We’ll possibly never know. The machaca tacos are the pinnacle of taco supremacy. I would vote for them as president if possible. Especially this year. If you go, don’t even ask; Carolina’s doesn’t have a cruelty free, organic, free range, locally sourced soy, tofu, vegan, faux meat equivalent. Try to order something like this and they’ll look at you like you are a stupid dick and rightfully so.

Carolina's Interior Phoenix, Arizona

Luckily you can’t taste the interior.

Meanwhile at Carolina’s

They call my name and with resolute indifference I’m handed hinged foam containers. We retire to a table in the sparsely decorated dining room. The screamingly yellow walls wail, one of the few times I can remember hearing a color. We open our containers and find perplexingly perspiring machaca tacos. When you lift these tacos, they drip, drip, drip a continuous rivulet. At first I find this unsettling, it continues to drip and laughs at my discomfort.

Drippy Machaca Tacos on Banging House Made Tortillas

Drip, drip, drip.

Once picked up Carolina’s tacos are an exercise in commitment, as putting it back down would result in it getting all wet again. The incessant dripping continues and there is now a pool in the hinged foam container. No worries, reader. Once you’ve tried the machaca taco, you don’t want to put it down anyway. The tortillas are light, airy and put the grocery store equivalent to shame. The slightly spicy beef, is juicy with reconstituted beef juice and various terrifying Mexican spices, and the crisp lettuce brings a fresh crunch to the lunch equation. Well worth the out of the way drive.

Machaca Tacos @ Carolina's Phoenix, Arizona

Machaca tacos on banging house made tortillas.

We devoured 1, 2, 3… 4 machaca tacos, each one dripping a full flavored broth and their delicious house made hot sauce. When the tacos were gone, I held the hinged container by the corner, let the delicious machaca perspiration pool in the opposite corner, and ate the shit out of it with a spoon. Yum. Served with better than average industry standard, unmemorable sides of rice and refried beans. Carolina’s is a machaca mecca, nothing fancy, but it don’t have to be fancy to taste good and Carolina’s drippy flavor perspiration tacos on banging house made tortillas taste pretty fricking good.

Machaca tacos on hand made tortillas @ Carolina's Phoenix, Arizona

Rice & refried the industry standard. Yay cheese.

Coming soon: we’re back home and we get not quite Asian at Chapel Hill’s Jujube, Asian food with southern ingredients, we’ll see ya’ there. May the odds be ever in your flavor- The Pot and Pan Handler

Five Napkin Lunch @ Carolina's Phoenix, Arizona

A five napkin lunch & empty hot sauce. A solid life decision.

Posted in Arizona, Lunch, Phoenix, Restaurants, Side Dishes, Tacos Tagged with: , , , , , ,

Lolo’s Chicken & Waffles, because, chicken & waffles.

Lolo's Scottsdale, Arizona

They had us at chicken.

Lolo’s Chicken & Waffles, because, chicken & waffles.

Welcome hungry readers to the Pot & Pan Handler’s ineligible blog edition: Lolo’s. Phoenix, Arizona’s answer to the question everyone asks, where do you get chicken and waffles? You can’t be in the Southwest without simultaneously occupying the American South and the American South knows fried chicken and waffles. Leave it to the South to find a way to make waffles worse for you, albeit with delicious results, oh well, when in Rome.

Welcome to Lolo’s, P.S. you’re late.

An Arizonian, made us aware of Lolo’s, after which we scoured the intertubes with our google hats on and found a location and time that suited us for chicken & waffles at Lolo’s. Ha Ha! Upon arrival the joke is on us, underneath the painted hours, was a cardboard sign taped to the glass in the door. The hand scrawled marker read: Our website tricked you bitches, now piss off, ya’ shites. But somehow they word it more appropriately, New Summer Hours, We Regret Any Inconvenience. Bullshit. The leering staff makes it abundantly clear, they not only don’t regret, but actually relish any inconvenience.

What'cha Taco'n about Willis

Fuck, we’re old.

What’cha Taco’in About Willis.

We went and got tacos, because tacos are fuckin’ good, especially when there’s a salsa bar, various pickled vegetables and roasted fresh jalapenos. That’s what we found at Taco’s Jalisco, however, dear readers, that is a different post.

L-O-L-O, Lo-lo’s take 2

We went back to Lolo’s the next day for lunch, hoping those bitches wouldn’t change the hours again as soon as they see us pull up. The joke’s on them. Our bland rental car from Tight Sphincter Car Rentals is so unassuming they never see us coming and they have no time to change their hours before we enter. Clean modern lines, with the appropriate amount of reclaimed barn wood, or at least something that looks like it and markets well with focus groups. A glaring sign inside says Lolo’s just in case you’ve forgotten where you just entered. Or perhaps they’ll soon put up another cardboard sign that reads, New Summer Name, We Regret Any Inconvenience.

Lolo's Phoenix, Arizona

Didja’ remember?

We’re quickly led to our seats and served iced tea in Mason Jars, because, that’s easier than personally calling each and every patron a biscuit head, cousin humper. In fact they even serve… Kool-Aid, again in Mason Jars. It seems to me reminiscing about drinking Kool-Aid from an old jar, is counterintuitive. Instead of celebrating the past, celebrate the now, when you can afford something that’s not Kool-Aid in a jar. However, who are we to judge. We acknowledge we are biscuit heads, and start sipping from a jar.  Because however corporate this place is they still have a full bar, with beers on tap, sipping on a mason jar suddenly seems perfectly plausible.

Lolo's Mason Jars, Phoenix, Arizona

I wonder what my attractive cousin is up to.

Chicken & Waffles

We order Lolo’s chicken and waffles, after all that’s what they’re known for. Though we do get a salad as well, because nutritional content. As much as you can’t make friends with salad, you can’t live on waffles & fried chicken alone. Well, you can, I suppose, as long as you supplement it with copious amounts of nutritional Red #4 found in Kool-Aid.

Shortly our food arrives and it’s suitably American, easily enough food for 4 people, a value, some would say. The chicken is a revelation, the exterior is crispy, yet tears away easily in heavenly crisp, bites, the interior a cloud saturated with flavor. Y’know, competent fried chicken, when it’s right, it’s always good. Lolo’s does it right.

Lolo's Chicken & Waffles, Phoenix, Arizona

If fried chicken is on the same table as a salad it qualifies as health food.

Waffles; in Kenny Shopsin’s book Eat Me he refers to pancakes as hoe cakes. Claiming they’re slutty, as they taste fuckin’ great, but offer no nutritional value, therefore pancakes are inherently bad for you. I don’t know if Lolo’s read this memoir but, their waffles remind me of this claim. These waffles are textbook we’ve definitely had better, but these waffles remind us of most waffles we’ve ever had, outside a couple of amazing outliers. Think Ihop, Waffle House or Perkins, these waffles are good, mostly because you don’t have to make them, that and syrup.

Speaking of syrup; here’s Lolo’s faux pas, pancake syrup. Lolo’s chooses to eschew the industry standard maple syrup in favor of high fructose corn syrup, caramel colored predator drones of “pancake syrup.” However, Lolo’s also includes something soooo tasty, we can overlook this minor flaw, in anticipation of, wait for it… JALAPENO BUTTER! Smooth, spicy, delectably creamy and worth overlooking the slovenly, overlooked flaw of no maple syrup. Barely.

Jalapeno Butter, Lolo's, Phoenix, Arizona

Butter will never be the same.

That of which, will win you no friends.

Then there was the matter of Lolo’s salad. In so many of these corporate family restaurants with, the salads are oft overlooked. Limp lettuce served with a quartered, walk-in ripened, sliced 2 days ago, sad, tasteless tomato, maybe a couple of indifferent red onion slices. Don’t forget the obligatory cuke slice, and factory made crouton. Lolo’s don’t play that game.

The salad we got was refreshing, a spring salad of field greens, goat cheese, strawberries, candied walnuts and grilled chicken breast. Okay it’s not a menu shattering dynamic feat of gastronomy, but it is a little sweet, a little sour, a little bitter, a little creamy, with a crispy textural counterpoint, and competently cooked chicken. When you’re talking salad, this is a perfectly serviceable combination and we enjoyed it as such.

Lolo's Spring Salad, Phoenix, Arizona

“You can’t make friends with me.” – Salad

Desert was out of the question, we’re surrounded by dessert after all, a lot to take in and rather filling, especially after drinking out of a mason jar.

Coming soon: we take you to Carolina’s in Arizona, for flavor perspiring, five napkin, machaca commitment, tacos on slamming house made flour tortillas. Until then may the odds be ever in your flavor. – Pot and Pan Handler



Posted in Arizona, Bars, Beer, Brunch, Chicken & Waffles, Lunch, Restaurants, Salads Tagged with: , , , , , , , ,

Barrio Cafe

Barrio Cafe Phoenix, AZ

Welcome to the Barrio Cafe. Vatos Locos forever.

Welcome lowly readers, to the Pot and Pan Handler’s blog Barrio Café edition. Barrio Café is where we learned what comida conchinga is, enjoyed a signature dish originally created by nuns and find that Mexican street food by any other name will taste as sweet. Get in the low rider, because we’re going to the Barrio, destination, Barrio café.

Barrio Cafe Lowrider Graffiti, Phoenix, Arizona

All my friends own a low rider.

Perennially Familyiar

Our family holds a family reunion every year. This reunion is an effort to fight the grisly reality that we as people have a mortality rate of 100%. After years of only seeing one another at funerals, someone said: “Well, hell, if we’re going to force ourselves to see each other, we might as well all be alive.” And with that totally made up statement the annual family reunion was born.

When my parent’s turn came up, it was official, we were going to one of the hottest states in the nation; Phoenix, Arizona. As a direct result of my parent’s residence is in one of the coldest states in the nation, they choose instead to live in the desert, at least during winter. We went last spring & spent 3 days feeding dozens of people 2 times a day. We also learned a lesson; if you are cooking for 60-70+ people in a residential kitchen, it can feel like you’re cooking with an E Z Bake Oven and a Fisher Price, My First Cooking Pot, but that’s a different post.

When we heard we were going to Phoenix, the first place that came to mind was Barrio Café. I had once seen Chef Silvana Salcido Esparza on Food TV’s Diners, Drive In’s & Dives and took notice.  Though it’s true they go to some funky, eclectic, unusual and tasty restaurants on that show. However, rarely are the Chefs in these funky restaurants, James Beard Award Nominated and Chef Esaparza is. Four times she’s been nominated for the James Beard Foundation’s award for Best Chef Southwest. That’s right four times, she’s part chef, part gangsta and all boss.

Barrio Cafe, Phoenix Arizona

Just in case you forgot where you are.

Barrio Cafe Graffiti Phoenix, AZ

I’m not sure if I have enough tattoos to get in.

Barrio Café

Barrio Cafe Graffiti, Phoenix, AZ

Hair so smooth, black as coal, wait that’s just paint.

Lesson one of the Barrio Café edition: take time to admire the graffiti murals outside. Graffiti is an oft overlooked art form, it’s usually free, and it never stops to appreciate itself, Barrio Café is no exception. Once inside we were quickly seated and our drink order was taken. A margarita and something near and dear to our hearts, the love child of a Bloody Mary and beer, a Michelada were ordered.

Barrio Cafe Graffiti, Phoenix, Arizona

Get on & ride, Barrio Cafe style.

Urban Art Barrio Cafe, Phoenix, Arizona

Barrio Cafe keeps it street by bringing the urban art inside, featuring local artists.

Barrio Cafe Michelada, Phoenix AZ

Barrio Cafe’s beer makes love to a Bloody Mary. MMMMmmichelada.

Soon our drinks appeared, alongside fresh bread and an olive tapenade. The margarita is a textbook rendition, the Michelada is exceptional. Spicy tomato juice and beer served in a glass rimmed with chili powder, I wish I was drinking one right now. The airy and light fresh bread and tangy olive, roasted red pepper and oil mixture are a nice accompaniment to the alcohol. But then again, what isn’t?

Barrio Cafe, Esquites, Phoenix, Arizona

Food truck food w/out the pesky truck.

We were still hungry. Fortunately at Barrio Café there’s an app for that, appetizers, we decided on Barrio Café’s take on elote or esquite. Mexican street style corn, refined, instead of leaving the corn on the cob slathered in mayo, Barrio Cafe, removes the corn from the cob and roasts them in butter. Mixing the kernels with lime, chipotle cream, cilantro and queso fresco. Served with chips on the side, this is no taco truck elote. For that we thank them.

Salad Barrio Cafe, Phoenix, Arizona

What are you looking at me for? You can’t make friends with salad.

Appetizer two: salad, though it may be true that you don’t make friends with salad, it does help ya’ keep a waistline. Barrio Café’s salad was tasty, not overlooked like in many restaurants, and it’s with a powerful fundamental relief that I tell you they do not put salads in a fried burrito shell. Simply mixed greens with diced tomato, dried cranberry, lightly dressed and garnished with queso fresco, it’s light and refreshing and palate cleansing. A refreshing second course but… STOP! It’s entrée time.

Barrio Cafe, Pork Tacos, Phoenix, Arizona

Not as good as expected, not bad, just not good.

Truck U

Tacos, who doesn’t love a good freakin’ pork taco? We bet an accomplished chef like Chef Silvana Salcido Esparza knows how to make a great fuckin’ taco. Wrong. Like the obligatory and overlooked chicken dish at your local steakhouse, these tacos are only on the menu because stupid gringos like us expect them.  “What do you mean you don’t have tacos, I thought this was a Mexican joint.” This chant would become a constant litany if they did not have tacos, but you can get tacos at a taco truck. When you’re at the Barrio Café, stick to the specialties, this is a Chef driven restaurant after all.

Barrio Cafe, Chiles en nogada, Phoenix, Arizona

Barrio Cafe Chiles En Nogada wish I was here.

Chiles En Nogada is such a specialty. The predecessor of Chile Rellenos, Chiles En Nogada was first created by Puebloan nuns in 1861 to celebrate the colors of the Mexican flag. Easily, Chiles En Nogada is my favorite Mexican dish of all time and Barrio Café did not disappoint. If you take my recipe for Chiles En Nogada and multiply it by sparkly unicorns with rainbow juice and garnished it with brilliance, you’re in the ballpark. Barrio Café took my favorite Mexican dish in the world and made it better. Far better.

The roasted poblano pepper is piquant and stuffed with a spiced chorus of chicken, apple, pear, dried apricot and pecans. This well stuffed pepper blooms on a bed of almond cream is reveling in the traditional Mexican flag colored garnish of queso fresco, cilantro and pomegranate seeds. The resulting flavor explosion dances across your tongue, a sublime culinary Mexican hat dance. This dish is sweet, salty, savory, spicy, creamy, zesty, tongue stimulating, and subliminally provocative peppery brilliance. When we eat that dish again, it won’t be soon enough to suit either one of us.

Barrio Cafe, Comida Chingona T-shirt, Phoenix, Arizona

Barrio Cafe; new T for dessert.

Barrio Cafe, T-shirt, Phoenix, Arizona

Barrio Cafe T the upper backside.

We had eaten far too much to entertain dessert, so we got a Barrio Café T-shirt. Comida Conchinga it reads; roughly translated this means, bad ass mother fuckin’ food. Exactly.

Coming soon: we’re still in the southwest with our stomachs focused on Chicken & Waffles, when we go to Lolo’s, same bat time, and same bat channel. Until then, may the odds be ever in your flavor- Pot and Pan Handler

Lolo's Phoenix, Arizona

One of the few places, where waffling isn’t a bad thing.

Artist Colton Brock, Phoenix, Arizona

Wanna keep it street @ home? Here’s the Phoenix artist featured when we were there.



Posted in Appetizers, Arizona, Bars, Beer, Phoenix, Pubs, Restaurants, Salads, Saloons Tagged with: , , , , , , , , , ,