L's Burrito and Juice Company (now closed)

subject: L's Burrito and Juice Company
take-out vehicle: aluminum foil and a paper bag
cost: $8.50

6/8/10 update: L's has closed.

I'll be honest: I wasn't looking forward to reviewing L's. In fact, I'd been putting it off for months. See, I went there twice last year. I was so excited the first time. I remember ordering two pork tacos...then disappointment punched me like I was Charlie Murphy in Studio 54.* Everything about them was bland, from the meat to the hot sauce. I was just totally underwhelmed.

The second time I went hoping the first was just a fluke. Still wary of the pork, however, I ordered a beef taco and a chicken taco. To my continued disappointment, they ended up tasting just like the pork ones. So, I resigned myself to that fact that, whatever I chose, I just didn't like L's food.

Then, after months of gestating, it hit me. It was so simple—foolproof, even. If this didn't work, then nothing would. When it was finally time to order, L greeted me as I suspected he would: "Hey, friend. What would you like?"

Then shrewdly, brilliantly, I put my plan into motion. "Yeah, uhh...what would you get?"

"Me?" he said. "Well, the pork burritos are good."

Success! "I'll have one of those, please."

Once made and laden with all the optional toppings (except for sour cream...blech), I made it back to my desk. Extracting it from it's bag, I was immediately impressed by one thing: the burrito was so big, so stuffed with pork, pintos, rice, veggies, and guac, that the aluminum foil wrapping was too small to fit around it. At least I was getting my money's worth. But it was time to eat.

Sadly, while certainly better than the tacos of last year, L's pork burrito didn't quite do it for me. First though, my compliments. The beans were great. They were rich and well seasoned, and there were just enough to appreciate but not overpower. The chopped green chiles were a nice touch, too. They were mild, to be sure, but I liked them. In combination with the hot sauce, I had a pleasant lingering heat well after my meal.

Unfortunately, I found the pork to still be underwhelming. Perhaps it's great by itself (it was too difficult to extricate for a separate tasting), but with all the competing elements, its flavor got lost. I also had an issue with the fresh chopped white onions. It's a personal thing, but I'm not big fan of the bitter tang of raw white onions. The texture was good, but I think a red, yellow, or vidalia onion would have been better.

My biggest gripe, however, was due to the guacamole. I paid a dollar extra for it, and I got a good amount, but it was completely lumped into one end of the burrito. It made me very upset.

To combat my upsetedness, I knew of only one solution. I marched back to L's cart, fist clenched.

"Hey man, what's up?" he said.

I threw out my upturned fist and opened it, exposing the six quarters inside. "I'd like a cookie, please."

Little known to me before I ordered my burrito, L also offers homemade chocolate chip cookies which he bakes daily. It cost a bit more than I would have liked, but it was closer than Cappellino's, and needed my fix.

It certainly did the trick, but after finishing it, I couldn't help but feel like I'd just eaten 3 eggs and a stick of butter. Better than nothing, don't get me wrong, but it was heavy, and walking a few more blocks to Cappellino's would have been well worth it.

I've yet to taste L's limeade (which is supposed to be great), but I think I've now had enough of his food to make a fair judgment. Letting L choose my meal was an excellent idea, but the burrito just wasn't good enough for me to pass up all the other temptations the Downtown Mall has to offer.


* I know it's not the most sound analogy, but I love the video. It's NSFW, btw.

The Balkan Bakery Cafe

subject: The Balkan Bakery Cafe
take-out vehicle: styrofoam box, paper bag
cost: $10.08

Despite what you make think of my interest in take-out food, I'm no slouch in the kitchen. I cook dinner for my wife almost everyday when I get home from work, and I very much enjoy doing so. It's relaxing. It's fun. And now that our deck has been built, I look forward to hosting and cooking for others even more. Simply put, the act and the art of preparing food are two of my favorite things.

That being said, there are some things that I will probably never want to make for myself, and phyllo dough is one of them. Having worked with the freezer variety just days ago, I cannot imagine the patience it must take to create something so fragile. As awesome as I'm sure it would taste, I just don't have the desire to do it.

So, as you might imagine, I was most impressed when The Balkan Bakery Cafe lady told me she makes theirs from scratch. In fact, that statement alone gave me all the information I needed to decide on my order.

After a brief menu item show-and-tell (she was obviously very proud of her work, but I think she picked up on the fact that I was mentally drooling over the idea of fresh phyllo because she quickly brought out examples of her made-that-morning stuffed-phyllo pies), I chose the meat pie, which she told me was her favorite. It was not a small item, yet as she boxed it up, I stared at the trays of desserts scattered around me and winced as they twisted my willpower's arm. Defeated again (damn you, willpower!), I ordered two powdered sugar-covered, cakey-looking desserts which she described as honey, walnut, and cinnamon cookies.

Let me tell you, that meat pie (which consisted of ground beef, potato, onion, and plenty of black pepper rolled in phyllo, which was then shaped into an oblong coil) was scrumfattylicious. The phyllo wasn't as thin as the stuff I bought at the grocery store, and I'm glad it wasn't. To its advantage, it was thick enough, and had enough butter in it, to create and absorb a silky, creamy, beefy, but barely-there sauce inside the pie. Besides tasting great, it kept the inner dough soft and a little chewy, which contrasted very nicely with the flakier outer dough. Mm-mm-mm.

The potatoes and the onions also added quite a bit to the moist interior, as they were both shredded and incorporated into the meatballs. The liberal use of black pepper pretty much covered up their taste, but being a pepper fan, I didn't mind a bit. If I had one suggestion, though, it would be to add a hint of a strong, whole-grain mustard. I think that would've cut the richness a little better than the pepper.

After finishing the pie, I questioned (again) whether or not I should have a cookie for dessert, but their aroma (again) overpowered my good sense. I'll be honest, I smelled them for a good minute or two before even wanting to take to bite. The scent was a divine blend of toasted walnuts, cinnamon, honey, and baked goodiness. Then I took a bite, and literally, it disintegrated in my mouth. It felt like I had a mouthful of chunky dust. The taste was just fine—pleasantly sweet, nutty, cinnamony—but the texture was...unpleasant. Still, I might buy one again, if only for smelling.

As for the meat pie, I'll certainly buy another one, just as soon as I've recovered from the marathon it'll take to rid my body of this one.

update: I brought home the second cookie and gave it to my wife, who quite liked it. She favorably compared it to traditional Greek cookies. Apparently I just don't like Balkan ones.

update 2: I was also reminded by my wife that she was born of a Greek mother, and is therefore, by default, an authority on Greek cookies. So when she said they were good, I guess she knew what she was talking about.

Cappellino's Crazy Cakes

subject: Cappellino's Crazy Cakes
take-out vehicle: wax paper bags
cost: $3.15

If I had to guess, I would say that, in response to the question "What does the letter 'c' stand for?", the proprietors of Cappellino's Crazy Cakes would probably respond with "cupcakes." That is, after all, for what they're largely known. They would, however, be wrong.

The letter "c," for those who didn't learn in their childhood, is for "cookie," and they are for what Cappellino's Crazy Cakes should be known. Why? Because they're damn frickin' tasty.

Today, I had three cookies: a peach cobbler cookie, a snickerdoodle, and a chocolate chip cookie.

I got the peach cobbler cookie because I had never before heard of such a thing. Made with dried peaches, walnuts and cinnamon, it was kinda like a chunky oatmeal cookie, except with dried peaches instead of oatmeal. And, at about .75 inches high and 3 inches across, It wasn't insubstantial either. It was dense, chewy, sweet but not overly so, and almost tasted like a bad peach cobbler. This is not an insult. It was a good cookie; the peach flavor stood out especially. It just didn't taste like peach cobbler, which is fine, because it wasn't.

The snickerdoodle was one of the best I've ever had. Like a cinnamon-sugary cloud of wonderfulness. It was light, airy, chewy...it was, in every way, what a no-chocolate-having cookie should be.

Which brings me to the chocolate chip cookie. Holy crap. That's all i can say. Just go, right now, and eat one. Or four. It's worth it.

No seriously, right now.