Category Archives: BY LOCATION

The small stuff punks Taco Punk

Life’s little frustrating moments: You’re watching an earnest worker trying to put together your lunch. He fumbles. She slips. You ask for this. He gives you that. Oops, a fresh bit just hit the floor. You’re glad you’re watching, deeply suspicious that if the deed had gone unobserved, the five-second rule would have come into play.

This is taking longer than it should, and things don’t get better. You want to offer advice. Then you want to walk around the end of the counter and help. Continue reading The small stuff punks Taco Punk

Kashmir keeps on keeping on

Back in the day, trendy new eateries like the Bristol and Myra’s fired up a generation of Louisville foodies with the revelation that fine dining could be about more than white tablecloths, surf-and-turf and fancy Italian cuisine.

But it didn’t take long for us to become blasé. Even as the city’s dining revolution burst all around us, with still-standing landmarks like Equus, 610 Magnolia and Le Relais, we were soon whining for more. “Get us Greek food,” we ranted. “We want a real Jewish deli! And Indian food! We need an Indian restaurant!”
Continue reading Kashmir keeps on keeping on

Diner delights at Frontier on Dixie

What’s a diner? This question would be easy to answer in New York, New Jersey, and across much of the Northeastern U.S., where diners abound. In Louisville, not so much. There’s a fine line between a diner and a family restaurant.

If it’s located in an old railroad dining car or a building made to look like one, it’s definitely a diner; but this is by no means a necessity, and in fact I can’t think of any railroad-style diners in or around this town. (If you know of one, please let me know.)
Continue reading Diner delights at Frontier on Dixie

Cuba and cacharros at Havana Rumba

What’s so Cuban about the front of a ’58 Chevy? Simple: You’ll likely find more American cars from the ’50s still running and on the road in Cuba than anywhere else on Earth. Thanks to the trade embargo that has existed between the U.S. and Cuban governments since Fidel Castro’s 1959 revolution, Cubans may only buy and sell cars that were already on the road when Castro came to power. Continue reading Cuba and cacharros at Havana Rumba

Z’s and a lesson in steakhouse economics

Let’s consider the economics of steak. Hungry for a sizzling rare boneless strip? Meijer had USDA choice for $7.99 a pound this week. (Kroger had flatiron, a chunk of chuck, for just $5.99 a pound, but let’s keep things upscale with strip or rib eye.) Bring it home, slap it on the grill, add a potato and a salad, and you’ve got steak dinner for two for $10. Such a deal.

Now let’s tinker with this scenario. Continue reading Z’s and a lesson in steakhouse economics

Ramsi’s: It’s 24, 24, 24 restaurants in one!

Remember those old commercials for Certs? “It’s a breath mint!” “It’s a candy mint!” “It’s two, two, two mints in one!” And then there was the goofy spoof from the gang at “Saturday Night Live”: “It’s a floor wax!” “It’s a dessert topping!” I think the lesson most of us ultimately drew from this is that a product that tries to be two things in one ends up doing neither very well.

And Ramsi’s Café on the World, I regret to say, is kind of like that, too.
Continue reading Ramsi’s: It’s 24, 24, 24 restaurants in one!

Wiltshire is thriving on Market

Let’s welcome the Voice-Tribune’s move to NuLu late in 2011 with a word of praise for another long-time St. Matthews institution that’s thriving there. The classy bistro Wiltshire on Market is a direct descendant of Susan Hershberg’s much-loved Wiltshire Pantry, which got its start on Wiltshire Avenue in St. Matthews.

Its always appealing menu is based on American culinary traditions with international touches, and a strong emphasis on fresh, local produce and meat. Wiltshire opened on Market in April 2009, so it’s practically an institution by the fast-moving standard of its trendy neighborhood. Continue reading Wiltshire is thriving on Market

This Burning Bush doesn’t have much to say

In the ancient Bible story of the exodus, when Moses encountered a burning bush in the desert on Mount Sinai, it was a transforming event. The voice of his creator directed him to face down Pharaoh and lead his people to freedom. Now, that’s serious stuff.

In the 1986 comedy classic “The Three Amigos,” when Chevy Chase, Martin Short and Steve Martin encountered a singing bush in the Sonoran desert, it was a slapstick moment. They got a wacky a capella concert of golden oldies. That’s something, anyway.

When Mary and I trekked out to Prospect recently to check out Burning Bush Grille Mediterranean Café, we got lunch. It was OK. It wasn’t slapstick, but it fell well short of being transformational. Continue reading This Burning Bush doesn’t have much to say

Echoes of Bakersfield at The Silver Dollar

Back in the day, when I was young and stupid, I would often make the long drive down California’s agricultural Central Valley, burning up the Golden State Highway to visit a girlfriend at UCLA.

When I hit the dusty town of Bakersfield, surrounded by oil rigs and potato fields, I knew I was within 100 miles and a couple of fast-driving hours over the Santa Monica Mountains to my destination. Sometimes I would reward myself with a pit stop and a cold beer at some dark and noisy honky-tonk, where the dominant sound was invariably loud country music.
Continue reading Echoes of Bakersfield at The Silver Dollar