Comfort food – Page 8 – The Saboscrivner

Toothsome Chocolate Emporium & Savory Feast Kitchen

I’m not a big fan of hanging out at Citywalk, Universal Studios’ dining and shopping complex, mostly because you have to pay $26 to park there. Because of this, I call it “Shittywalk.” Yes folks, I’m here all week. Tip the veal, try your waitress! But I recently had a friend in town, a brilliant fellow librarian and former Floridian, who was visiting from up north with her husband. She wanted to schedule a lunch with me and two of her other friends, and after several Saboscrivner suggestions, they chose the Toothsome Chocolate Emporium & Savory Feast Kitchen (https://www.universalorlando.com/web/en/us/things-to-do/dining/toothsome-chocolate-emporium-and-savory-feast-kitchen). Even though it’s out at City/Shittywalk, I was happy to catch up with her, and let’s face it, also happy to be invited to anything. Plus, it sounds like something that could only exist in the long-gone glory days of The Simpsons: like T.G.I. McScratchy’s Goodtime Foodrinkery, or the Fantabulous Contraption of Professor Horatio Hufnagel.

I had been once before, a few years ago. The coolest part about the restaurant is the unique steampunk-style theming. For the uninitiated, steampunk is kind of an offshoot of science fiction based in the late 19th Century (usually England, sometimes the U.S.), where there are very modern, fantastical creations powered by steam technology, including luxurious airships, robots, gleaming brass and bronze factories churning out anachronistic wonders, and lots of gears. So many gears. If you can’t think of any famous steampunk movies, TV shows, or books, you’re not uncultured — there just aren’t many. For fans, it’s more of an aesthetic than anything else — a chance for creative cosplayers to dress up all fancy, in an retro-futuristic, well-to-do manner (because in a Victorian society where trailblazing inventors and explorers ruled, there would be no exploited underclasses toiling in those fantastical factories, right?). Men favor waistcoats, vests, jodhpurs, cravats, and the occasional old-timey facial hair. Women get dolled up in fancy dresses and corsets, and I can’t find any fault with that. There are plenty of goggles to go around, due to steampunk’s overarching themes of invention, discovery, and exploration (think of the Industrial Revolution and also — sigh — British colonialism), and a surprising amount of top hats (including tiny top hats for the ladies). Is there jewelry? You bet there is. Just find some old watches, crack them open, and glue gears to various things. Put a gear on it! I always joke that steampunk style is for goths that just discovered the color brown.

Anyway, the Toothsome Chocolate Emporium looks like a fantastical steampunk factory from the outside, with billows of steam rising from the central smokestacks.

On the way in, you can wait for your table in a gift shop that sells all kinds of fancy chocolates, candies (some in fancy glass jars and bottles), and steampunk accessories (goggles, jewelry with gears, and even tiny top hats). Nothing is cheap.

The two-story dining room is actually gorgeous, but it’s dark enough inside that I can never get good photos of it. I apologize for that. I love the look of the place and all the thought that went into the design and theming. It’s truly unique, especially as far as restaurants go. There’s a romantic quality to the gilded, retro-futuristic decor, despite the quirky nerdiness of it all. It feels like you’ve been transported away dine to somewhere exotic, strange, and beguiling, not like you’re chowing down with tourists on the outskirts of two sweaty Florida theme parks.

There is a public face to the restaurant, a steampunk-inspired character named Doctor Professor Penelope Tinker-Toothsome, who is played by a statuesque blonde actress (or probably multiple actresses) in a luxurious-looking blue gown, accessorized with the aforementioned corset, goggles, and tiny top hat. The world-traveling founder and heiress to the Toothsome fortune goes around the dining room doing schtick at people’s tables in a big, stagey British accent. She warmly greeted us, but didn’t linger at our table.

Once our gang of five assembled and started to order, the people who didn’t know each other seemed to hit it off, which is a testament to my friend’s good taste and judgment. Me being me, I ordered onion rings for the table, so… wait a minute… is this a little recurring feature on The Saboscrivner that I like to call RING THE ALARM? I think it is!

RING THE ALARM! These were the Black and Tan onion rings ($10.95), and they were very good, despite a few of them being a little burnt and falling apart. They were served on a bed of lightly crispy fried noodles that were pleasant to crunch on. The cocoa ranch dipping sauce was cool, creamy, and slightly chocolatey, going along with the chocolate theme of the place (as opposed to the steampunk theme), but it worked. Get in with The Saboscrivner and be a good person, and you’ll find I am usually happy to share my onion rings.

I’m reasonably sure my friend ordered the chopped Asian chicken salad, but I’m not sure if this was a half for $7.95 or a full for $11.95. It included grilled chicken, Napa cabbage, Tuscan kale, roasted peanuts, and peanut-lime vinaigrette. I didn’t try it, but she seemed to like it.

Her husband, an accomplished artist and cartoonist, ordered the Southern-fried chicken BLT ($14.50), with a crispy boneless chicken breast, tomatoes, butter bibb lettuce, bacon, and Dijon mustard on a toasted brioche bun. He seemed to like the sandwich, but I don’t know how he felt about those fries.

One of my friend’s friends I had never met before chose wisely, ordering off the brunch menu. This was the patty melt ($12.95), which inspired awe around our table. The half-pound house-made fresh hamburger patty was served on thick slices of challah bread (CHALLAH IF YOU HEAR ME!) with cheddar cheese, topped with a sunny-side up egg and grilled pork belly, and served with Lyonnaise potatoes that looked more interesting than the fries. If I go back, I’ll probably order that.

On my one previous visit, I ordered a burger that was quite good: the “May Contain Bacon” burger ($15.50). That was another half-pound burger served on a pretzel bun with bibb lettuce, smokey thick-cut bacon, grilled pork belly, pineapple chutney, and chipotle Jack cheese. I couldn’t find a photo from that meal from almost three years ago, but back then I was still using my awful phone camera, so it probably would not have been any good anyway. The photo, I mean. The burger was very good.

I made friends with one of my friend’s friends, another foodie. She was vacillating between two menu options, so I asked if she wanted to order one thing, I’d order the other, and we’d split both. She was down with that plan, so she ordered herself a burger: the “Tour de France” ($14.95). Of course it had another half-pound patty, this time served on toasted brioche, with bibb lettuce, roasted tomatoes, sunny-side up egg, avocado, crispy onions, and French brie. Ooh la la!
I got to enjoy half, and it definitely was a tasty burger. Funny enough, as much as I love cheese, Brie has never been one of my favorites, but it worked well in conjunction with the other ingredients here. (Ironically, my wife isn’t big on cheese at all, but brie is one of the few she enjoys!)

I went with her other choice, which I was already considering anyway: the Fork & Knife grilled ribeye steak sandwich ($15.95), and I gave her half. The steak sandwich sounded right up my alley, topped with sautéed onions, roasted tomatoes, arugula, herb shallot aioli, and horseradish cheese (awww yissss!), served on a toasted onion brioche roll. It also came with sauteed mushrooms, which I asked them to serve on the side so she could enjoy them and I wouldn’t be poisoned by them. I asked for fresh, house-made chips with the sandwich, which looked way better than the fries, and did not disappoint. I thought it was a rather small sandwich for $16, but hey, that sort of thing happens at theme park restaurants. At least it was a solid steak sandwich, despite being on the puny side.

Well, as I’m sure you surmised from the name, the Toothsome Chocolate Emporium is big on decadent desserts, especially massive, mountainous, monstrous milkshakes. Pardon the blurriness, constant readers — these beauties were on display behind glass.

When I was here years ago, I tried the key lime pie milkshake, garnished with an actual slice of key lime pie. (That’s it in the foreground in this recent picture from their milkshake display.) It was okay, but actually ended up being too much, on every possible level. For one thing, I thought the whipped topping tasted more like artificial Cool Whip than fresh whipped cream, although it’s possible I am wrong about that, or they might have changed it since then. And being a native Floridian and enjoying key lime pie whenever and wherever I can, I’m always a little put off when key lime pie is tinted green. The pie slice on top clearly isn’t green, but I don’t think the milkshake had to be that pale, almost seafoam green color either.

Surprisingly, only my one brave librarian friend ordered a shake this time. The rest of us were just too full. This was the Espresso Buzzzz (copied and pasted right off the website’s menu to ensure I had all the “z”s present and accounted for). This $12.50 milkshake has everything: coffee ice cream, espresso, and chocolate espresso beans, and it was topped with “fresh whipped cream” (that’s what it says on the menu!), and a cherry. She was craving coffee, so this was the best of all possible worlds. Sea turtle lovers, you’ll be relieved to know the large, festive straws in all these milkshakes are paper (more like cardboard).

So it was a really pleasant lunch in a beautiful dining room with old and new friends alike. The distance and having to pay for parking keep me away from “Shittywalk,” but we end up down there every year or so for a show at the Hard Rock Live, so I’d totally return to the Toothsome Chocolate Emporium and Savory Feast Kitchen. In fact, we’ll be back a little over a month from now to see Patton Oswalt perform at the Hard Rock, so maybe I’ll go back again with my wife. But she’s not a corset-and-goggles kind of girl, so I know better than to even ask.

Se7en Bites

For many years, I have been a champion of Se7en Bites (http://www.se7enbites.com/), the local bakery and restaurant run by the delightful Chef Trina Gregory-Propst, a woman I am honored to call a friend. Ever since I first tasted her Signature Dark Chocolate Sea Salt Caramel Pecan Pie at another local establishment, Pom Pom’s Teahouse and Sandwicheria, I knew she was a master of her craft. It is, and still remains, the finest pie crust I’ve ever had. This is praise of the highest order, as I will always choose pie over all other desserts. Long before starting The Saboscrivner, long before the Orlando Foodie Forum on Facebook, I used to post about local food on the Florida forum of the website Chowhound.com, and I remember being the first to review her awe-inspiring pie on the entire Internet. As far as I was concerned, a star was born.

This was several years ago, long before Chef Trina founded her own place, Se7en Bites. It started out in Orlando’s “Milk District” neighborhood on Primrose and Robinson, in a very small space that regularly had lines out the door, especially for weekend breakfasts and brunches. Peering over the counter at the array of beautiful baked goods was like looking through a window into Willy Wonka’s factory: a world of pure imagination, crafted from sugar, flour, and love. We didn’t go as often as we liked, simply due to the crowds, but it was always a feast for the senses, as well as a great place to bring my co-workers and occasional out of town guests to show them one of Orlando’s best independent eateries.

Chef Trina became successful enough to expand to a larger location a few years ago, with much more parking. She’s still on Primrose, just south of Colonial. (And another one of my local favorite restaurants, Bad As’s Sandwich, has since opened in the original Se7en Bites location and has been absolutely killing it for the past two years.)

In 2017, she received a well-deserved accolade that some restauranteurs only dream of: Se7en Bites was featured on Guy Fieri’s ubiquitous and beloved Food Network show Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dives, which only added to her status as a local legend. (That was Season 26, episode 10, “Wonder Women,” in case you’re ever lucky enough to catch a replay.) Once she started serving burgers (which are amazing!), I named her Italian Stallion burger one of my top five dishes of 2017 in a feature I wrote for the Orlando Weekly in their last issue of the year, but I’m no Guy Fieri, I get it. (However, I spent much of the late ’90s and 2000s wearing retro-looking shirts straight out of the “hipster doofus collection,” just like his.)

Needless to say, it has been a pleasure to watch Chef Trina become a recognized and respected face of Orlando’s culinary community, and my wife and I have been huge fans from the beginning! Whenever we go to Se7en Bites, we always get the friendliest service and some of my favorite food in Orlando. Whether we choose handmade burgers with ranch-seasoned crinkle-cut fries, buttermilk garlic breakfast biscuits heaped with bacon and eggs, or just have dessert because we’re grown-ass adults who can do that if we want to, we know we’re always in for a treat. Chef Trina never fails to come out of her bustling kitchen to check on us, and she always asks how my wife is doing when I pop in alone.

Unfortunately, I missed her on my most recent visit, around 1:00 on a weekend when I ordered everything to go. She was probably already hard at work at her other restaurant Sette, Orlando’s newest Italian restaurant, which I reviewed back in March 2019 and consider the best Italian restaurant in our City Beautiful. My poor wife was at home, grading papers while fighting off a cold, so I wanted to bring her a really nice lunch. When we saw photos of Se7en Bites’ weekend brunch special, the Minnie Pearl, on Facebook, she told me that was exactly what she wanted.

The Minnie Pearl ($14.75), named for the down-home hostess of Nashville’s legendary Grand Ole Opry, comes with two mini pearl sugar waffles (GET IT???), a buttermilk-fried chicken breast, and an over medium egg, although I requested the egg be cooked over hard for my wife, who doesn’t love runny eggs. It also comes with hot honey drizzle and the most amazing vanilla bean butter syrup, which they were kind enough to include in separate containers with lids. You can say “HOW-DEEEEEEE!” to that. I’m so glad my wife shared a little bite of the pearl sugar waffle with me. It was easily the best waffle I’ve ever tasted. Much crisper and denser than most breakfast waffles, including the ones from my beloved Waffle House, this one made the whole house smell like butter, vanilla, and good times.

The Minnie Pearl also included cheddar chive grits, which she is much more into than I am:

This is my favorite regular item on the menu at Se7en Bites, the meatloaf sandwich on grilled sourdough bread, with a mashed potato schmear ($9.25). I’m a meatloaf lover and make a damn amazing meatloaf, if I do say so myself. Chef Trina’s version is the only meatloaf that I think comes close to mine. And since I don’t always feel like a huge and hearty Southern breakfast, I know I can always count on this sandwich (since I always feel like sandwiches).

This is the pimento cheese and bacon sandwich, also on grilled sourdough bread ($8.75). And I opted for a crispy fried green tomato on mine, for a $2 upcharge. Pimento cheese is something else I make well, but I feel compelled to try it whenever I see it on a menu, since everyone’s version is a little different. The version at Se7en Bites is among my favorites.

Sides with the two sandwiches, creamy macaroni and cheese (a $3.25 upcharge) and the aforementioned ranch-seasoned crinkle-cut fries (a $2.75 upcharge). Sadly, the fries were cold by the time I got home with everything, thanks to hitting every light on Colonial and then again on Semoran. I’ll never order these fries with a takeout order again, but they are among my favorite fries in the city when I dine in at Se7en Bites.

To make the lines move along better, you order your sweets at a separate counter, where all the delicious, decadent desserts are on display under glass domes. Feel free to ask questions — her staff is probably used to them, and they’re always happy to tell you anything you want to know.

This is the aforementioned Signature dark chocolate sea salt caramel pecan pie ($7), which features the finest, flakiest, most buttery pie crust I’ve ever had. The whole thing is an embarrassment of richness. It looks small, but it can be easily be shared by two to four people.

I recently met one of my favorite Internet friends for the first time, along with his lovely girlfriend. He is a fellow aficionado of comic books, cats, pro wrestling, and pie, and we got together for dinner at an old Disney Springs favorite, The Polite Pig. I made sure to pick up one of Chef Trina’s signature pies for them, and I think it dazzled them the same way it always dazzles us. That crust remains unparalleled.

This is the Se7en Bites coconut cream pie ($7), one of my favorite kinds of pies, even after getting a little burned out on them judging the cream pie category at the National Pie Championship last spring. It’s another big hit in our household, to the point where after sharing small slivers when I brought our most recent takeout order home, my wife woke up very early the next morning and finished the rest of it before I got up. But what’s mine is hers, and at least I got a taste.

Most recently, when I picked up the signature pie for my visiting friend, I also noticed a new pie I had never seen before: a Samoa brownie cream pie ($7)! It looked magnificent, and I brought it home, split it evenly, and devoured it with my wife — while we were both watching each other, like something out of Treasure of the Sierra Madre. This pie has everything: a chocolate fudgy cookie-like crust, caramel, butterscotch, coconut, and the smoothest, coolest, creamiest filling. It was literally my favorite Se7en Bites dessert EVER, and I hope Chef Trina will consider adding it to the permanent menu.

And this thicc bar came highly recommended by one of the lovely and ever-patient women of the Se7en Bites staff. I believe it’s called I Don’t Give a Fudge, and the layers are chocolate chip cookie (bottom), rich fudge brownie (middle), smooth chocolate peanut butter (top), and then a soft cookie dough topping above all of that. It’s about four inches thick, and once again, meant to be shared by several people (or at least for one or two people to get several portions out of it. This one cost about $6.

Se7en Bites even serves special burgers on Fridays, which makes it difficult to catch them, but they have been among my favorite dishes there. In fact, this is an older photo of my favorite burger Chef Trina has ever crafted, the Italian Stallion. It is topped with a fried mozzarella plank, savory-sweet tomato jam, and pesto aioli, and it is one of my favorite burgers of all time. In fact, the Italian Stallion made my Top Five favorite dishes of 2017 in Orlando Weekly!
Anyone remember the Bennigan’s chain, so ubiquitous throughout the ’90s and the first half of the ’00s? They had a similar burger back then, the Wheelhouse burger, topped with a fried mozzarella cheese “wheel” and marinara sauce. That was good eatin’ back in the day, but the Se7en Bites version even leaves that fond memory behind, in the dust.

This was another special Friday burger, topped with bacon, Chef Trina’s wonderful pimento cheese, and onion rings, and I got it with a side of onion rings! That’s right — you didn’t think this was going to be a RING THE ALARM! feature, but I sneaked it in there, right at the end. I don’t remember the cute name this burger no doubt had, but I wish she would bring it back, and make those onion rings a regular menu item. Look at them! They’re the “good kind” of onion rings I always wax poetic about on this blog — beer-battered and golden brown, crispy but not crunchy, not too thin or too thick, not too greasy. These were the onion rings that dreams are made of!

Anyway, Se7en Bites is a local favorite with national renown for good reason, and between this and Sette, Trina and Va’s culinary empire is pretty well-established in Orlando. I can’t wait to see — and taste — whatever these gastronomic goddesses do next. In the meantime, if I have co-workers or out-of-town guests who are craving brunch or sweets, Se7en Bites will remain my top choice to bring them to. There isn’t much like it anywhere else, and we are so lucky to have it here. Don’t miss the Minnie Pearl with those perfect pearl sugar waffles, and be on the lookout for Friday burgers and that Samoa brownie cream pie!

Peter’s Kitchen China Bistro

EDIT: It is February 2024, and I can no longer recommend Peter’s Kitchen in good conscience. A new owner took over, and the food quality plummeted. More recently, that new owner literally stole the name from another well-regarded Chinese restaurant on East Colonial Drive, Chuan Lu Garden, which I have reviewed in the past and loved for years. Don’t be fooled by the restaurant with the new Chuan Lu Garden sign in the old Peter’s Kitchen location at 3914 E Colonial Dr, Orlando, FL 32803. Whatever it is calling itself, you can get better Chinese food elsewhere.

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Peter’s Kitchen China Bistro (https://peterskitchencb.business.site/) opened in late 2017, and quickly made a splash on the Orlando Foodie Forum. It developed a loyal following for its orange chicken, of all dishes — that syrupy-sweet, Americanized comfort food synonymous with mall food courts and greasy take-out places. But Peter’s elevated the orange chicken and made it sing. That’s what they do at this comfortable sit-down spot on East Colonial Drive, a former “cursed location” that they took over and made into a beloved local success over the last two years.

I first went there in December 2017, shortly after it opened, and met some new friends from the Foodie Forum there for lunch. We ordered a veritable feast and shared everything, including that awe-inspiring orange chicken ($10.95) and lots of dim sum.

I also introduced these new friends to one of my favorite Chinese-American dishes: beef chow fun ($13.50) — tender strips of beef and the greatest chewy wide noodles, stir-fried with onions, green onions, bean sprouts (not my favorite, so I ask them to hold the bean sprouts), and a soy-based sauce (I’m assuming) with the slightest bit of sweetness to it. It’s a little greasy, but a truly perfect dish. It is the best version of beef chow fun in Orlando, and I even listed it among my Top Five favorite dishes in Orlando in 2017, in the Orlando Weekly.

In addition to the regular menu, Peter’s features a dim sum menu that’s available daily, except they only push the dim sum carts around the restaurant on weekends. On that first visit, a Foodie Forum friend introduced me to some of the wonders of dim sum, including slippery, chewy rice paste, here served with shrimp and drizzled with soy sauce (which I think had something else mixed into it):

Let there be dancing in the streets, drinking in the saloons, and necking in the parlor! From a later visit with my wife, this is the butter lobster (the dreaded market price) — a self-explanatory name for a truly rich and special dish, worthy of celebrations. The lobsters are alive, furtively pacing around in tanks, perhaps contemplating their fates. The unlucky crustacean is served fresh, broken apart, easy to spear and slide the meat out of the shell. It is shiny with garlic and butter, easily one of my favorite lobster dishes I’ve ever had anywhere (not that I’m some fancy boy who eats lobster all the time; I can count the times I’ve sat down to a meal of lobster on my fingers and still have some left over).* *Fingers left over, not lobster.

On my most recent trip, I brought home takeout. My wife had requested orange chicken from somewhere, and despite the ubiquity of this sweet, sticky, greasy dish in storefront Chinese restaurants and mall food courts everywhere, I remain convinced Peter’s Kitchen serves the best version of orange chicken anywhere.

I can’t go to Peter’s without ordering beef chow fun. I also won my wife over on this dish, and we split this portion over the course of two or three days.

On this last takeout trip, I brought home some more dim sum too:

She requested and loved sesame balls ($3.25), filled with a subtly sweet red bean paste:

I’ve ordered these baked roast pork pies ($4.95) before, but the last photo I had of them was really blurry, and I know people already think I’m a crummy photographer. I ordered them again for YOU, constant readers:

The crust is flaky like an traditional American-style pie crust, and the roast pork is sweet, sort of like char siu.

My wife also wanted these crispy taro dumplings ($3.85), which were stuffed with ground pork, surrounded by the soft, light-purple taro layer and then a crispy exterior, but neither of us loved them. They reminded me a bit of Cuban papas rellenas, the crispy fried mashed potato balls stuffed with seasoned ground beef called picadillo. But I like my papas rellenas much better than these.

Oh well, you can’t win them all, but at Peter’s Kitchen, chances are you’re going to like almost everything on the menu, if not everything.

I almost always end up with baked egg custard tarts ($3.85) for dessert, and got my wife hooked on them:

So these photos were taken over a handful of visits over the last two years, but mostly from a recent takeout order that fed us for days. I’m so glad Peter’s Kitchen is serving some of Orlando’s best Chinese food, and that they’ve turned a “cursed location” into a can’t-miss culinary destination. And it’s so close to my job as well, which is a bonus for me.

Beefy King

Beefy King (http://beefyking.com/) is an Orlando legend and also a time capsule. The sandwich shop was founded in 1968 and still stands proudly on Bumby Avenue, just south of Colonial Drive, in the “Milk District” neighborhood east of downtown Orlando.

The hours are:
Monday – Friday: 10:00 AM – 5:30 PM (but the dining room closes at 3:00, so it’s drive-through only from 3:00 – 5:30)
Saturday: 11:00 AM – 3:00 PM
Sunday: Closed

It was originally a local chain of six restaurants, but this is the only one that remains. Three generations of owners later, they’re still doing things very much the same way after 50+ years: serving sandwiches of roast beef, pastrami, corned beef, barbecue beef and pork, turkey, and ham on soft, steamed kaiser rolls, alongside their legendary Beefy Spuds (think tater tots), onion rings, delicious chili, and more.

Beefy King survived an arson attempt in November, so this feels like the right time to sing its praises, now that it has reopened for business. It didn’t seem worse for the wear when I met one of my favorite fellow foodie friends there for lunch the week after it reopened. This is why YOU COME AT THE KING, YOU BEST NOT MISS!

Here’s a roast beef sandwich ($4.55) served with steamed, diced onions — the classic sandwich around here.

As you can see, it’s very juicy roast beef — much juicier and much less salty than Arby’s. I added some creamy horseradish sauce, which comes in squeeze bottles and is delicious on anything and everything, but especially roast beef sandwiches.

Here’s another roast beef sandwich with spicy barbecue sauce. (They have mild barbecue sauce too; don’t worry!) The steaming process makes the kaiser rolls nice and soft too, which really works well.

This is an extra-large two-meat sandwich with pastrami and corned beef, plus melty white American cheese and steamed onions ($8.50). I ended up adding some of that creamy horseradish to it, too. They have mustard, but only the yellow kind, and this sandwich is too good for yellow mustard, if you ask me.

I’m a huge fan of Beefy King’s chili, full of meat, beans, tomatoes, onions, and peppers. I always opt to get it with a slice of white American cheese that melts into it so nicely. If you’ve had Wendy’s chili before, this is similar, but a hundred times better.

RING THE ALARM! Beefy King has onion rings that just cry out to be dipped in the mild or hot barbecue sauces or creamy horseradish sauce.

And here are the golden-brown Beefy Spuds, also perfect for dipping.

Save room for a hand-spun milkshake! Beefy King offers vanilla, chocolate, cherry, and my personal favorite, orange. I skipped the orange shake this time, but I either regret ordering it or regret not ordering it.

Beefy King isn’t just a time capsule, despite being a real piece of classic Orlando that doesn’t have anything to do with “Mickey’s House.” It’s even more than a great place to grab a quick, affordable lunch in Orlando’s Milk District (although between Beefy King, Stasio’s Italian Deli and Market, Bad As’s Sandwich, and Pom Pom’s Teahouse and Sandwicheria, I argue the city should officially rename it The Sandwich District). It’s also a survivor. To be the last remaining location from a small chain, and to have made it all these decades unchanged, even emerging like the proverbial phoenix after an arson attempt after 51 years, means it’s a living legend, an inimitable institution, the kind of restaurant all Orlando locals should experience for themselves. When even culinary luminary Alton Brown and late-night laughing boy Jimmy Fallon know to seek it out, you know the word on the street is good.

The King is back.

Long live the King.

Chain Reactions: Popeyes

My readers may have heard some news a while back about a certain fried chicken sandwich controversy. Barely three months ago, the Louisiana-based fried chicken chain Popeyes (https://www.popeyes.com/), came out with a chicken sandwich for the first time ever, upending the balance of power in fast food chicken sandwiches and making people everywhere lose their damn minds.

Almost everyone I know either tried the Popeyes chicken sandwich and loved it (like my best friend down in Miami), or tried to, but were foiled every time by long lines and stores selling out (like me). There were some haters too — either loyalists to the long-standing chicken sandwich champion, or people who claim to never eat fast food for any number of legitimate reasons (which is all good, but they might miss out on something tasty). And almost as quickly as the hype grew around this sandwich for those two or three weeks in the late summer, Popeyes pulled it from their menus everywhere, and life moved on. I ended up discovering and reviewing the greatest chicken sandwiches I’ve ever had in my life at Winter Park’s own Swine & Sons, and those went a long way toward helping me get over my FOMO.

I was wondering if Popeyes got rid of their biggest hit ever because they weren’t prepared to deal with the insane demand. It might have been a personnel issue — assembling sandwiches has to be more labor-intensive than boxing up the whole pieces of fried chicken, and every Popeyes restaurant I’ve ever been to is always understaffed. It might have been a problem in the supply chain, as there was an annoying ad campaign in the weeks that followed encouraging customers to BYOB, or “Bring Your Own Bun.” Maybe they wanted to create artificial demand through scarcity, but regardless, they listened to the people, because this game-changing chicken sandwich is back now, as of Sunday, November 3rd. And this time, hopefully it’s here to stay.

Constant Readers, I failed you back in August. Even though I had every intention of eating and reviewing this sandwich, I never got my hands or mouth on one in time, and then they were gone. But there’s no way I was going to let you down you again. I got to Popeyes on the morning of November 3rd, shortly after it opened at 10:30 AM, but as you would expect (and I kinda did expect), half of Seminole County had the same idea and was already there.

The drive-through line snaked through the huge shared parking lot at this location, so I parked far away so I wouldn’t get blocked in later, and took my chances waiting inside. This was the smart move. I was back home with my to-go order in just over an hour, and I didn’t have to waste half a tank of gas idling in the car. If you go in the days and weeks to come, expect some wait, but the line definitely moves faster inside. Eventually I got my order, and I was home in fewer than ten minutes, so everything was still hot and crispy.

This was the spicy chicken sandwich, which I loved. The fried chicken breast was juicy and bursting with flavor. I admit I was expecting to be disappointed, because Popeyes chicken can be quite inconsistent. When you get a fresh batch, it’s amazing, but I’ve had far too much sad, dry chicken there. I typically stick to dark meat, particularly thighs, which I think are more flavorful and less likely to get dried out, but this was a really fantastic fried chicken breast. It was huge, too, and the buttermilk-based batter wasn’t just lightly crispy — it was CRUNCHY, even after steaming in its little foil pouch as I raced home. Well-played, Popeyes. I can’t conceive of a better fast food chicken sandwich. I emphasize fast food because even though there are certainly better chicken sandwiches out there (like the Swine & Sons versions), those are $11 while this one is $4, almost one-third of the price. Unfortunately, I thought they were rather stingy with the spicy mayo, and would have loved some more on it.

This was the regular, non-spicy sandwich ($3.99 each without the combo). It should come with mayo as well as pickles, but they left the mayo of both regular sandwiches I ordered — one for myself so I could try both versions, and one for my wife who doesn’t like anything spicy. All three sandwiches came with two thin pickle slices, and now that I’m starting to appreciate pickles more, I would have been happy to get even more pickles on them. By the way, the buns are brioche — soft and fluffy, buttered, and lightly toasted. It’s a fantastic bun to serve this kind of sandwich on.

You mean to tell me you’ve never heard of the Millennium Falcon?

Since my regular chicken sandwich didn’t have any mayo, it was a perfect opportunity to sample two different Popeyes sauces. I cut the sandwich down the middle, making sure there was one pickle slice on each half, and applied one of these sauces to each:

The Mardi Gras Mustard is a creamy Creole-style mustard (savory, but not spicy at all) that went well with the chicken, but the Voodoo Sauce was awesome on the other half. It was thin and runny, sticky, sweet, and slightly spicy — extremely similar to a Thai sweet chili sauce. And it jazzed up that sandwich just perfectly. I should have added a schmear of my own mayo too (I only buy Duke’s), but I wanted to stick to just Popeyes’ own condiments for the purposes of this review.

And here is what might be the very best menu item from any fast food restaurant anywhere: Popeyes red beans and rice ($2.29 if you order the small separately, or it can be one of the sides you pick in your combo meal). This is the perfect, quintessential version of this classic Louisiana dish. Rich, thick, and smoky, it transcends this fast food fried chicken chain and could hold its own against high-tone versions of red beans and rice in some of New Orleans’ finest chef-driven establishments. I know a lot of chefs agree and sing its praises, including Momofuku’s founder and all-around cool dude David Chang.

When I finally got up to the cashier, she kept trying to cut me off and complete my order after every item I ordered. Our conversation went something like this:

“I’d like a spicy chicken sandwich combo, and…”
“Okay, that’ll be $6.99 plus tax.”
“Oh! But I would also like two regular chicken sandwiches, not the combos, and…”
“Okay, that’ll be…”
“Sorry, I wanted red beans and rice as the side for my combo, and also…”
“Beans and rice, gotcha. That’ll be…”
“Sorry, I would also like to try the bourbon fudge pie, and…”
“Adding on the bourbon fudge pie! So your order comes to…”
“NO, WAIT! I’d also like the pumpkin cream cheese pie!”

So yeah, it was a battle, and I ended up apologizing a heck of a lot, unnecessarily (which I do far too often). But they have pie, and I love pie, and I really wanted to share them with my wife and review them for you. But I really had to fight, just to be able to order them!

The bourbon fudge pie ($2.49) is a small slice that we just cut down the middle. The fudgy filling is rich, thick, and damn tasty, but the crust is completely tasteless and serves no real purpose. We weren’t expecting much for $2.49, but it was like a cheap, knockoff version of local Chef Trina Gregory-Propst’s delicious signature dark chocolate sea salt caramel pie at her beloved Orlando restaurant and bakery Se7en Bites. And that pie has the best pie crust ever, so y’all need to make it over there and try hers, maybe even before you try these chicken sandwiches.

The pumpkin cream cheese pie is your typical fast food turnover pie. If you haven’t tried the very similar apple pie at Popeyes, you’ve probably had it at McDonald’s at some point in your life. You might even remember when the McDonald’s apple pies used to be fried to a crisp, back in the ’80s!

Here’s a cross-section: a strip of sweet pumpkin “pie” filling, and a strip of sweetened cream cheese. The crust wasn’t anything special, but still better than the extremely bland, flavorless bourbon fudge pie crust.

Anyway, these chicken sandwiches are so good, I went back a few days later to a different location and waited about 25 minutes, just so I could get another one. I got another spicy boi and asked for extra spicy sauce, but the cashier said there isn’t a button on the register for extra sauce, so they couldn’t do it. That particular sandwich didn’t come with pickles, but it was still mighty fine. Tender and juicy, crispy breading, perfect bun (any burger would be honored to be served on a bun prepared that well), and slightly more of that spicy sauce that really brings everything together.

However, this time I asked for macaroni and cheese as the side, because I know the late, great Anthony Bourdain loved Popeyes mac and cheese, as well as their chicken. I love mac and cheese too, so I had to try it.

The mac and cheese was pretty standard, like what you’d get at a soul food or barbecue place. Very similar to the mac and cheese at Orlando’s homegrown barbecue chain 4 Rivers Smokehouse and its Southern spinoff restaurant The Coop, in fact. Not baked or anything, no bread crumbs or crispy layer of cheese — just al dente elbow macaroni in sticky, gluey, salty orange cheese. I can see it being beloved comfort food, especially for someone like Bourdain, a world-weary traveler who sometimes craved simple tastes of home.

I am trying really hard to avoid sodas, but this second Popeyes location had an unfamiliar label on the soda fountain — a drink I had never seen before or even heard of, and I try to stay apprised of such things!

There is precious little information about Mirinda online, but it started out as a brand from Spain, and PepsiCo bought it. They produce many different fruit-flavored sodas, so I guess Pepsi saw it as a way to compete against Coke’s Fanta brand. I’ve tried a few different strawberry sodas before, and they always taste more like strawberry candy than the actual fruit. This one was no exception. It was almost sickeningly sweet, and I was glad I only took a few sips. I ended up refilling my cup with Popeyes sweet tea while I waited for my food, and between the Mirinda soda and strong, acidic sweet tea, I ended up with acid reflux for the first few hours of my workday, long before I even indulged with a fried chicken sandwich and macaroni and cheese. Serves me right, I guess!

Git-N-Messy BBQ

2021 EDIT: Chef Chuck Cobb of Git-N-Messy BBQ (later rebranded as Red-Eye’s Git N Messy Smokehouse & Tavern and relocated to 855 E State Rd 434, Winter Springs, FL 32708) passed away in a motorcycle accident on April 29, 2021, about a mile from the sports bar he had moved his burgeoning barbecue business into.

He worked his ass off, and all his labors were finally paying off. Everything seemed to be going well. He even received some national exposure, cooking on Live With Kelly and Ryan. But he was still so down to Earth — this big, boisterous guy who always asked how my wife was feeling, always remembered our orders. I’m proud that I wrote one of his earliest reviews right here on The Saboscrivner.

Later on, he expanded his menu to include more choices and limited-time specials. I kept going back once he moved closer to us in the Winter Park convenience store, and we enjoyed his giant beef ribs (my wife’s favorite), jalapeño-cheddar sausage, Nashville hot chicken, smoked prime rib, even venison. One day I made a special trip because he was experimenting with fried alligator nuggets! I had been taking photos of all these new offerings, and kept meaning to make it out to the new Red-Eye’s Git N Messy Smokehouse & Tavern (that’s a mouthful!) to write a fully updated review. I missed my chance to eat food he made one last time, to BS with him one last time.

Of course I’ll miss Chef Chuck’s delicious food (although he had been training an apprentice pitmaster, so the ‘cue will continue), but I’ll miss him more. He was married and had four kids, on top of being beloved throughout greater Orlando for being so damn good at what he did, and so affable through all of it. It just goes to show you how impermanent and uncertain everything is. So do what you can WHEN you can. Tell other people how much they mean to you. Eat the food you want to eat. Be kind. Be empathetic. Be patient. None of this lasts, so try to make it as okay as possible for everyone else while we all can.

***

2020 EDIT: Since I originally wrote this review, Git-N-Messy BBQ reopened inside a Citgo station at 4980 Hall Rd, Orlando, FL 32817, right at the corner of Aloma Avenue and Howell Branch Road. I’ve been to this new location multiple times in March and April of 2020, and it is better than ever.

***

I figure most Saboscrivner readers are aware that barbecue is more than just slathering meat with sweet, sticky sauce. It’s the whole process of smoking meat for hours at a time over the right wood, low and slow. When people talk about having a backyard barbecue and grillin’ hamburgers and hot dogs, I cringe, because that’s a cookout. That’s grillin’. And that’s super-cool and good, but that ain’t barbecuing.

There are regional barbecue styles in different parts of the country: Texas, Kansas City, Memphis, North Carolina. And different areas focus on different meats: beef brisket, ribs, pulled pork, and more. Florida doesn’t have its own famous barbecue style, which isn’t the worst thing in the world, because it allows us to draw from the best of everywhere else. That’s a major positive aspect of Central Florida: it’s a real melting pot — an interesting place to live, and a great place to eat.

That said, while we have some perfectly fine barbecue chains around Orlando (some of which used to be better than they are now), I’ve tried a few of them in recent months and haven’t been enthusiastic about writing reviews. I have been searching for a while for some next-level barbecue worth shouting about from the virtual rooftops, restaurants that combine meat, sauce, smoke, time, and even ambience to create something truly special. And I found one the other day in an unassuming Shell gas station in suburban Sanford.

Git-N-Messy BBQ (https://www.facebook.com/gitnmessybbq2/) opened recently in the Express convenience store at the Shell station on West Lake Mary Boulevard, just west of 17-92. Chef Chuck Cobb previously ran an omakase-style sushi restaurant, Zoetic Sushi, that I never got to try, but people on the Orlando Foodie Forum were singing its praises. But after Zoetic closed, Chef Chuck’s next move was to return to one of his prior loves: barbecue. I knew of him from the Foodie Forum, but in person, he is a jovial, jocular personality, happy to chat as he prepared my order.

Inside this convenience store, Chef Chuck has his open food prep area, with three high-top tables and a small bar set up with a few stools. There are four different local beers on tap: two from Sanford Brewing Company and two from Central 28 Beer Company. Yes, you can even get a pint of beer with your barbecue, if you dine in the convenience store! Party boy that I am, I just got a hard-to-find strawberry-kiwi Gatorade to go. I had planned to bring home my food to share everything with my wife, but a guy was hanging out at a table, just chillin’, enjoying the best pulled pork sandwich of his life (his words), after he had just stopped by to fill up his car with gas. I knew I had to try that sandwich, but as usual, I wanted to try everything.

The Carolina pulled pork sandwich ($8) comes with slow-smoked pork that Chef Chuck further chopped into smaller pieces, house-made cole slaw, lots of sliced pickles (which I’m really okay with these days), and a Carolina-style mustard-based barbecue sauce I asked him to leave on the side. The sandwich was huge, and a huge value for that price. Here it is, back at home on a too-familiar plate:

I also got an order of smoked beef brisket ($16), which consisted of four large and generous slices. There was no need to chop them up further or drench them in sauce to obscure the rich-looking marbling or the dark, spicy outer bark. At some restaurants, the brisket is too dry and tough, and at others, it seems like you just get served a pile of greasy fat. Here, it was a perfect blend of tender meat and unctious fat, just perfect.

And then I also got an order of smoked sausage ($8.50), a barbecue item that tends to be underrated, but I always like sausage in any forms. The large link was chopped up into smaller segments, and once we got it home, we especially liked the rich snappiness of the outer casing — something missing in far too many sausages and hot dogs. Even my wife liked the sausage, something she can usually take or leave. It was a generous order, and probably my favorite smoked sausage that I’ve had, at least in a really long time.

The sides I brought home included more of that cole slaw (which I might have gone without, since the giant pork sandwich had so much on it), very good baked beans, and excellent collard greens, of course cooked with meat. I love collards, and I’ve tried to make them at home many times, but mine NEVER come out as good as these barbecue joints, even after spiking them with pepper vinegar.

Chef Chuck loaded me up with five house-made sauces: sweet, mild, hot, mustard-based, and an Alabama white sauce that goes so perfectly with chicken — which is great, because I have a really bland chicken breast in the fridge that desperately needs something to salvage it. That will teach me to stick to buying chicken thighs, the superior cut of chicken! Anyway, they were all good sauces.

I would have loved to try the St. Louis-style spare ribs, but those would not have been ready for another hour, and I couldn’t hang around that long. But I’ll totally go back for them, because everything else was so amazing. I learned that Chef Chuck can also make a Tampa-style Cuban sandwich with his own slow-smoked pulled pork in a house-made mojo marinade, Genoa salami, ham, Swiss cheese, pickles, and mustard, so that’s also intriguing. Too often, the pork is the weak link in many Cuban sandwiches, either dry or not very flavorful. I know it would be the star in his version of the Cubano.

I really liked everything I tried from Git-N-Messy BBQ, and immediately liked Chef Chuck Cobb, who is working meat miracles in this most unlikely of settings. My readers know by now that too much extravagance and expense make me uncomfortable, and I’m much happier when I’m discovering humble hidden gems, casual restaurants that would be hard to find without a push in the right direction. It doesn’t get much more humble or hidden than some of Central Florida’s best barbecue in a Sanford gas station, so consider this your push and the Saboscrivner your friendly neighborhood pusher. Where else can you fill up your car and your belly at the same time? (Costco, I guess, but Git-N-Messy is really something special!) Just as a final note, Git-N-Messy is closed Sundays and Mondays, as even Chef Chuck needs some time off from smoking and slicing.

Rey’s Cuban Cafe

My wife and I love Cuban food, and I’m from Miami, so I grew up eating some of the best Cuban food in the world. My parents definitely weren’t into exploring new cuisines, but we often feasted on Cuban delicacies, and as a result, I feel like my standards are high. I’m always on a quest for the best Cuban food in Orlando, and my latest discovery has been Rey’s Cuban Cafe (https://www.reyscubancafe.com/), a small and unassuming restaurant in Fern Park, not too far from where we live. Rey’s has about eight indoor tables and a few more on an outdoor patio, but I’ve only ever brought home takeout from there. It’s ten minutes away, so the food is always nice and hot by the time I get it home. I went three times before writing this review.

My wife’s favorite dish from any Cuban restaurant is bistec empanado (which I’ve seen as empanizado on other restaurants’ menus): tender steak pounded flat, breaded, and deep-fried ($9). This is served over white rice with fried yuca.

Here’s her bistec empanado from our second visit. This time it came with garlicky boiled yuca, which she prefers:

I am a sucker for liver dishes, which are rare enough on most menus, but Rey’s has two different versions. This is higado Italiano ($10.99), strips of tender beef liver sauteed with onions and green and red bell peppers in a tangy tomato sauce. I usually order yellow rice instead of white when there is a choice, and I can never refuse maduros, sweet fried plantains, which are one of my favorite foods in the whole world. The onions are from my wife’s steak, since I love them and she most definitely does not.

This past weekend, my wife was craving bistec empanado again, and I had just donated blood, as I try to do every eight weeks. Liver sounded awesome, probably to help replace some of the iron I had just gladly given up, so I ordered the regular bistec de higado, liver steak ($9.99). It was very thin and tender — a perfect consistency. I wish they had really slathered it in onions, like gone to town with cebollas.

I always like to get red beans when I have a choice between black and red. Rey’s red beans are served like a stew, with chunks of potatoes and little bits of onions and pork. I wish they had a little more smoky flavor and spice, but I’ve always gotten takeout, so I add my own hot sauce at home. I realize Cuban food is rarely spicy.

I am a huge fan of Jon Favreau’s wonderful movie Chef, about an L.A. chef who finds new inspiration for cooking after a trip to Miami. He buys a food truck and drives back home with his buddy and his son, selling Cuban sandwiches and bonding as they drive cross-country. I can’t believe I never saw it until this past summer, so I was a little obsessed with Cuban sandwiches that particular weekend in July. I remember stopping by Rey’s for the first time for my own inspiration as I prepared to marinate and roast my own pork shoulder for homemade Cubanos. (That ended up being the best thing I ever cooked.)

But before I made my own, I enjoyed Rey’s Cuban Deluxe ($7.99), with the usual sliced roast pork, ham, and Swiss cheese, plus the additions of salami, Spanish sausage, lettuce, tomatoes and mayo. Did I add one of the many mustards from my collection when I got this sandwich home? Long-time Saboscrivnerinos will know the answer is YES. (My homemade Cuban sandwich was better, but this wasn’t bad at all. I’d skip the lettuce and tomato next time, for sure.)

You can’t go wrong with buttery Cuban toast on the side of any meal:

One of these times I brought home takeout, I was in the mood for good empanadas (although as comedian Jim Gaffigan once said, there’s no such thing as a bad empanada). I ate them too quickly to take pictures of their fillings, but two of them were stuffed with picadillo, or seasoned ground beef, and the other was a pizza empanada, stuffed with hearty tomato sauce and melty mozzarella cheese.

There are many kinds of empanadas, with many Latin-American countries specializing in their own versions. However, Cuban empanadas, with their flaky fried flour crusts, have always been my favorites.

And on our last visit, pastelitos (pastries) were two for the price of one, so I brought home a quesito filled with sweet cream cheese and a pastelito with guava and cream cheese. These were perfectly fine, but not on the level of Versailles and La Carreta from back home in Miami (also known as “The 3-0-5”). I was also craving croquetas de jamon, crispy fried croquettes stuffed with a soft, yielding filling of diced ham and bechamel sauce. Those always hit the spot!

I don’t think Rey’s Cuban Cafe is elevating Cuban food to new levels or putting gourmet twists on anything. It’s comfort food, pure and simple — hearty food that reminds me of home (even though the food was one of the only things I liked about growing up in Miami). My quest for the best Cuban food in Orlando certainly continues, but you could do a lot worse than Rey’s. You can see the generous portion sizes and extremely reasonable prices. Everything is fresh and tasty, and they accomplish everything they set out to do.

Prohibition Kitchen (St. Augustine)

This past weekend, my wife and I ventured out to St. Augustine, the oldest city in the United States, for my first time in almost 20 years and her first visit since elementary school. We were going to a concert on Saturday night, but we decided to get a motel, stay the night, and use the day to explore a bit of the Historic District and grab a late lunch somewhere good. Prohibition Kitchen (https://pkstaug.com/) came highly recommended, and it looked very much like our kind of place — a gastropub with an eclectic menu and a unique retro aesthetic.

Our motel was a real dump (I booked it online), and parking near the Historic District was a nightmare, but we were charmed by the beautiful old buildings and laid-back, touristy vibe of the Historic District once we finally got there and found a parking space. Driving from Orlando, we had definitely built up an appetite, so we arrived at Prohibition Kitchen just in time, on our way to hangry.

It’s a long restaurant that stretches pretty far back, with a long bar along the right side. It was pretty busy when we go in, with a huge crowd gathered for the Florida Gators game. We waited about half an hour for a table, but after how long it took us to park and find the place, we didn’t mind waiting. Luckily, we arrived late in the fourth quarter, and the bar crowd cleared out when the UF game ended and the UCF game began.

There is a stage to the right of the entrance for live music (which they feature many evenings). This is a happening place!

Stairs up to second floor loft section:

We started out with a cup of beer cheese soup ($4), garnished with toasted pretzel crumbles. It was excellent, with a nice texture that wasn’t too sticky or goopy, and not too smooth and uniform like most queso dips. It even had the slightest bit of spice. I would make this at home if I could find a similar recipe; it was that good.

This was the German-style pretzel, served with beer cheese dip ($10). It was light, fluffy, and buttery, with the slightest crispness to the outer crust. I have nothing but love for Auntie Anne’s pretzels — in fact, they are the only thing that redeems my rare trips to malls — and this was similar to those, but on a much grander scale. We have a hard time saying no to any kind of soft pretzels.

However, the beer cheese dip, included in the price, was identical to the separate cup of beer cheese soup I ordered, and the same size, too. Could our server have warned me that if I wanted to try the soup, I’d get a cup with the pretzel, to save me $4? Sure, she could have, and it would have been appreciated. And $4 isn’t going to break the bank for us, but it would have been a perfect opportunity to give me a heads-up. Did I need two cups of beer cheese soup and/or dip? Nope. But did I slurp down two cups? I sure as hell did, since I paid extra for one of them!

My wife made the best choice at this lunch, ordering the Maine lobster roll ($21), which actually came out as a pair of lobster rolls, both on grilled, buttered, New England-style split-top buns. The lobstah meat was in big chunks, cool and refreshing, dressed with mayo, diced celery, chervil leaves, and Old Bay seasoning. She gave me a delicious bite, and because she doesn’t dig on sandwiches, I ended up eating most of both buns, fan of buttered toast that I am.

Having studied the menu in advance, I figured I would go with the Prohibition Kitchen signature burger ($16): a half-pound blend of sirloin, short rib, and brisket, served medium-rare with red onion bacon jam, a fried egg, and Red Dragon cheese, along with the typical lettuce, tomato, red onion, and pickles. Red Dragon isn’t just a Hannibal Lecter novel anymore, but a Welsh cheddar made with whole grain mustard seeds and Welsh brown ale. I’ve only ever had it once or twice ever, but as a fan of cheeses with stuff in them, and especially as a mustard aficionado, I figured I was choosing wisely. I love onion jam and/or bacon jam as burger toppings, too. I even ate all my pickles, and they weren’t bad!

Like BurgerFi, they brand the buns — in this case a fluffy brioche bun, which you can never go wrong with.

The burger was perfectly fine. Greasy, juicy, lots of flavors going on. But on a humid day of walking around pushing my wife in her wheelchair over the cobblestone streets of St. Augustine’s Historic District, and especially with a concert to look forward to that night, I would have preferred the cool, refreshing lobster rolls she ordered to a heavy burger. But I always say she’s the smart one, and that was one more example of why.

For the record, the fries were very forgettable, and neither of us ate very many of them. I could have gotten a cup of beer cheese soup instead of the fries for a $2 upcharge, which would have at least saved me $2 (or gotten me a third cup of beer cheese soup), but I really need to let this go.

Anyway, that was the one meal we got to eat in St. Augustine, although after lunch, my wife bought two kinds of fudge and a big bag of different flavors of saltwater taffy at one of the many ubiquitous candy shops along St. George Street, one of the main drags. We were both charmed by the touristy Historic District and swore to return together, when we didn’t have a concert to take up our evening. We might even stay there next time to explore the history, culture, architecture, and food more, since we sure as hell are never going back to that dingy, decrepit, desolate dive of a motel, and it would be nice not to fight for a parking space every time we wanted to come and go. And while we’d probably seek out other local eateries on a future visit, I’d still recommend Prohibition Kitchen to any St. Augustine newcomers. The lobstah rolls, giant pretzel, and beer cheese soup were all well worth it.

Swine & Sons

So, has anyone heard about any good chicken sandwiches lately?

Let me rewind for a bit. This week the Internet went insane over chicken sandwiches, something I rarely order anywhere. When there’s a burger available, I never give the chicken sandwich a second look. At fast food places, even if I’m not in the mood for a burger, I’m more likely to order the fish sandwich than the chicken sandwich! Even when I go to a fried chicken joint, I’ll usually get a couple of crispy fried thighs, rather than a sandwich. Too often, the classic fried chicken sandwich contains a dry chicken breast, or worse yet, a dry tender or two. I’ve been burned by dry, bland white meat too often, and don’t get me started ranting about dry, bland, boring-ass Thanksgiving turkeys. I always prefer dark meat, and thighs usually hide my favorite morsels of meat on the entire chicken: the oysters, tucked away under a bone, two little perfect bites per bird.

But people are losing their damn minds over this chicken sandwich, which gave me a serious case of the FOMO.* I had to venture forth to see what the hype was about, and so I could blog about it and get some external validation before everyone moves onto the next foodie fad. Wait, did I just write that?

Well, to none of my regular readers’ surprise, I ordered two different chicken sandwiches: spicy and extra-spicy. And I’m happy to report they were the best damn chicken sandwiches I’ve ever had! But they didn’t come from that chain. Nope. And not that chain either. They came from a beloved local restaurant that just happens to be located in a butcher shop. Not that one; the other one!

Swine & Sons (https://swineandsons.com/) started out as the third restaurant in James and Julie Petrakis’ locally-grown empire, following their flagship Winter Park gastropub The Ravenous Pig and their upscale Southern restaurant Cask & Larder. With Chefs Rhys and Alexia Gawlak in charge, Swine & Sons opened in a small space next door to the old Cask & Larder location on Fairbanks Avenue in Winter Park, and I made sure my wife and I were there on the very first day they opened for business. We were some of their first customers through the door on Day One, and they had a good thing going from the onset. It was always meant as a more casual restaurant compared to the others, a quick-service place with sandwiches, house-cured charcuterie, and lots of prepared takeout options. And despite having limited seating and parking, it became a hit, like the Petrakis’ other establishments.

But the only constant is change. In recent years, Cask & Larder moved to the Southwest Airlines terminal at Orlando International Airport, and The Ravenous Pig moved into the space Cask & Larder vacated on Fairbanks, which is much nicer and larger than the old Ravenous Pig location, with more parking. The Gawlaks bought Swine & Sons from the Petrakises, and in March 2019, they moved across the street, into The Local Butcher & Market, an upscale full-service butcher shop. (Da Kine Poke, one of Orlando’s best poke places, also has a counter location inside The Local Butcher.) There are still tables to enjoy the Gawlaks’ delicious food in there, don’t worry. And luckily, there are a lot more parking spaces! Just keep in mind that it closes at 4:00 PM every day, so you’d have to be a real early bird to have dinner there.

Anyway, Swine & Sons is one of the only Orlando restaurants I know of that serves Nashville-style hot chicken, which I was first introduced to at the legendary Hattie B’s in Nashville last year. After the chicken is marinated (often in seasoned buttermilk), breaded or battered, and fried, it is covered in a spice paste that’s heavy on the cayenne pepper, so every surface is spicy. It was amazing, and very different from the popular new fast food spicy chicken sandwich where any heat comes from a spicy mayo-based sauce. At Hattie B’s, I ordered a medium thigh and a hot thigh. They were crispy and crunchy and set my mouth ablaze, and I’ve been chasing that high ever since.
(To avoid any confusion, this photo is from Hattie B’s in Nashville, just in case the cup and the above paragraph didn’t give it away. That’s medium on the left and hot on the right, and the hot was HOT.)

I tried the Nashville hot chicken at Cooper’s Hawk when I reviewed it earlier this year, and even though I liked that restaurant quite a bit, the hot chicken wasn’t that hot or that crunchy. So my quest continued, and I’m so glad that the Great Chicken Sandwich Wars of 2019 led me to Swine & Sons in search of a truly singular spicy chicken sandwich experience.

In fact, maybe with all the chicken sandwich hype and debating, Swine & Sons recently debuted a hotter hot chicken sandwich. Their current menu showed the classic version, referred to as the “Party,” and the newer, hotter model called the “Rager.” The very patient woman working the counter told me they use the same spice blend, but the Rager contains three times the cayenne pepper. They use Bell & Evans all-natural chicken breasts, and she explained that they first brine them, then they smoke them, and then they fry them. I was already on board even before she mentioned smoking, but that would have pushed me over the edge. I love any smoked foods — meat, fish, cheese, fruits and vegetables, salt and pepper, you name it. I was ready for a life-changing flavor sensation, so of course I ordered one of each ($11 per sandwich), intending to eat half the Party and half the Rager there and save the other halves for later.

Party:

Rager:

Both of the sandwiches were served on identical white sandwich rolls, with plenty of sliced pickles and little dipping cups of Alabama-style white barbecue sauce, a mayo-based sauce I have come to really like with my chicken. I’m usually not a pickle person, but I’ve been trying to develop more of an appreciation for pickles, and these were great. Definitely some of the best pickles I’ve ever tried. Surely they were house-made. The chicken breasts with their crunchy breading and oily, spice-laden exterior coating were balanced perfectly with the soft roll and the crispy pickles (not overly sour or “dilly”). I left the cool, creamy white sauce on the side for dipping random bites, lest it overpower the other flavors or cut the heat too much. I would have preferred a soft, rich buttery brioche bun for these sandwiches, which would have both contrasted and cut the heat more than the plain white roll, but it still worked very well.

These chicken sandwiches were CRON-CHY! Each bite had a satisfying crunch that is missing from too much fried chicken. Under the breading, they were also juicy and moist. Even beloved fried chicken establishments have let me down too often — even places I’ve given good reviews to in the past. But these were everything you wish fried chicken sandwiches could be in terms of texture and consistency.

Party:

And what of the heat, you ask? The Party had a pleasant heat that would certainly be too much for my in-laws, my parents, and my wife, but anyone who enjoys spicy food will be fine with it. I didn’t know what to expect from the Rager, but I’ve been pushing my limits with spicy food lately, maybe trying to feel more alive in this scary and unknowable world. My eyes were watering, and I had to blow my nose more than once, but my body reacts like that whenever I eat anything spicy, so those weren’t new and unfamiliar reactions to this heat. Despite all that, I was expecting it to be hotter, to maybe push into a place of unpleasant heat, but it was fine. It was better than fine; it was awesome. And through the heat, you could taste the smoky flavor. They didn’t clash or overpower each other — smoke and fire burning together in crackling harmony.

Rager (see it through my tears!)

I definitely like the oil-based spice rub on Nashville-style hot chicken compared to most other kinds of spicy chicken. Don’t get me started on typical sports bar buffalo wings, which never do anything for me. It might be the funkiness of the vinegar-based hot sauce, but those wings are often too crunchy, whether they are breaded or not, and they’re simultaneously dry and greasy. And even though I couldn’t begin to identify the spices in the Swine & Sons chicken sandwiches (aside from the obvious cayenne pepper), at least they don’t have to increase the heat to ludicrous levels for macho bragging rights, with ridiculous names like “Atomic Hellfire,” “Habanero Apocalypse,” and “Ass-Blaster 5000.”

There was a slight sweetness emerging from the heat in both of these sandwiches, making me wonder if there was some sugar in the spice blend. I loved it. They were exactly what I wanted, exactly what I had been craving and chasing since hitting Hattie B’s in April 2018. The smoky flavor made it through, so there were a lot of unique tastes and textures going on at once. I have to say I preferred both of these chicken sandwiches to the two thighs I had back in Nashville. Were they the best chicken sandwiches I’ve ever had? In a week where people are getting passionate about chicken sandwiches, I’m going to do the same and say YES, yes they were. As I write this review, far too late on a work night, I am so excited that I still have the other halves in my fridge, waiting for me… maybe even taunting me.

While I was there, I also ordered Swine & Sons’ macaroni and cheese, which I hadn’t had in several years. It was $4 for a decent-sized side order, and it was very rich. The cheeses (cheddar and fontina) were melty and the pasta was al dente, so I was more than content. There was also a nice crumb topping made from cheddar-chive biscuit crumbs. A lot of places bake their mac and cheese so the whole thing comes out dry, sacrificing that nice meltiness for overly-crispy edges and noodles you can barely chew anymore, but that was definitely not the case here.

I’ve ordered other sandwiches at Swine & Sons on my handful of previous visits over the years, including a good Southern-inspired take on the classic Cuban sandwich. I think I even had a house-made hot dog there once, although it has been so long, I don’t even remember how they served it. But today, in my first visit to their new location inside The Local Butcher & Market, Swine & Sons showed me the great heights a fried chicken sandwich could reach in the right hands, from the right kitchen. It was hot, but all that heat was pure flavor, not just burning, tingling pain and regret. It was crunchy, but not so hard that I felt like I was going to break a tooth. It wasn’t dry, and it sure wasn’t bland. It was a chicken sandwich all others should aspire to be.

I don’t know if they could serve a non-spicy version of the sandwich for the some who don’t like it hot, but right now I’m convinced Swine & Sons can do anything. And while it is more expensive than the fast food chicken sandwiches making headlines and stirring up strong feelings, you get what you pay for. I think these were dramatically, exponentially better than any chicken sandwiches I’ve ever had, and I hope my readers will feel the heat sooner rather than later. The Gawlaks are like culinary royalty in Winter Park and Orlando, and this place isn’t exactly a secret. But despite all that, you shouldn’t have to worry about long lines and sandwiches selling out, as transcendent as they are.

*Fear Of Missing Out.

I’m so ashamed.

Chain Reactions: Krystal (the all-you-can-eat adventure)

When it comes to food, almost everyone has a guilty pleasure. Maybe yours is Cadbury Creme Eggs (wisely bought on sale after Easter and saved in the depths of your freezer so you can enjoy one every month of the year that follows when nobody else has any), or trashy frozen French bread pizzas that remind you of hanging out at your friends’ houses in high school, or possibly even intimidating sandwiches you painstakingly assemble using two of those French bread pizzas in place of a sub roll, like a true sandwich artiste (particularly going for that self-destructive streak too many artists share). It might be something as simple as ice cream, or fries, or fries dipped in said ice cream. You might have a love-hate relationship with these foods. Indulging might make you feel bad physically after the initial rush of excitement and joy, but you can’t help yourself. Or they might bring you to a happy and comfortable place at the time, but then you feel shame or depression later on, like so many dysfunctional relationships.

After a disastrous attempt at the keto diet back in 2017, I now firmly believe we should eat whatever we want, just maybe a little bit less of it at each sitting, and maybe not indulge quite as often. But life is full of pain and suffering and misery and unhappiness, and it’s all over much too quickly. I say we should just take our pleasures where we can find them — ideally with some modicrum of moderation — and not feel too guilty.

Of course, that’s easier said than done when when of your (by which I mean my) guiltiest food pleasures are cheese Krystals, tiny little cheeseburgers served with mustard, onions, and a pickle slice on soft steamed buns. Krystals (sometimes colloquially referred to as “sliders”) are the signature item from the fast food chain Krystal (https://krystal.com/). If this sounds familiar, you might be thinking of White Castle, a fast food chain located throughout the Northern U.S. We don’t have White Castle here (and I’ve never had a chance to go to one), but Krystal is the Southern equivalent. Founded in 1932 in Chattanooga, Tennessee, Krystal’s website claims it is the second-oldest fast food restaurant. Locations are decorated in white and red and have a bit of a retro feel to them, and they’re usually sparkling clean and bright.

As you might guess, the Krystal burgers are very cheap (being a product of the Great Depression), remaining one of the better fast food values today. They are meant to be consumed in mass quantities, and as you might also guess, they are not exactly health food. I usually only go to Krystal once or twice a year, and luckily I have to drive out of my way to go to one, keeping it a rare indulgence. When I go, I usually order a dozen cheese Krystals, and each soft little slider is lovingly tucked into a cardboard sleeve with one open side. I’ll reach into the bag on my passenger seat and wolf down several of them before I even make it home. Hey, I’m not proud.

But perhaps in an attempt to reach out to people like me, Krystal recently instituted an all-you-can-eat deal, offering unlimited Krystals and fries for $5.99. (This deal is for dining in only. You can’t get it to go, and you can’t leave and come back later and hope to get more.) I had to try it, for the sake of this food blog and my dozens of vaguely-interested readers. I figured I would live-blog my experience as I ate more and more sliders, perhaps chronicling my physical and mental decline, and to see how long I could stay in the restaurant, how many they would be willing to serve at a time, whether I could beat my previous Krystal record of eating twelve, and whether or not I’d wear out my welcome before I tapped out. I love the state of journalism in 2019, don’t you?

Here’s a twist: I don’t think Krystal’s fries are anything special, so perhaps for the first time in the very short history of their all-you-can-eat deal, I asked them to hold the fries and just give me cheese Krystals. (The incredulous cashier said “Are you sure? The fries are included!”) Just so ya know, the cheese is a $2 upcharge, but I think it’s totally worth it, as long as we’re indulging. I also ordered a drink, a Sprite slushie for $1. Hey, big spender!

So instead of giving you a tray laden with a precarious leaning tower of burgers like an old Jughead comic book cover, they start you out with four at a time. If I had wanted fries, they would have given me a regular order of fries to begin with as well.

Well, these sliders slide down real easy, so it wasn’t long before I went back to the counter and asked for a re-up. Luckily they weren’t busy. You can tell some time has passed because I drank about a third of the Sprite slushie with the first round. Here’s round two: four more cheese Krystals.

I took my time with those soft, squishy, oniony, mustardy, cheesy little monsters, but I wasn’t ready to surrender to the sweet embrace of oblivion yet. Like I said, my record for Krystals consumed had been twelve — sadly my usual order for the once or twice a year I drive through. Whatever happened, I wanted to at least top that. Why, you ask? I couldn’t really tell you, dear Saboscrivnerinos. Bragging rights? I hardly think this is anything to brag about.

So I asked the nice lady for an order of five more, just so I’d have thirteen in all, and I could reevaluate my options after that. She didn’t even argue with me. I was clearly a man who came to play, who meant business, who could hold his sliders with the best of them. Here they are, the Furious Five with no Grandmaster Flash in sight, and one-third of the slushie remaining.

In case there was any doubt remaining, I inhaled them.

And you know what? After that, I made what might have been the smartest move I made that day — I called it a day. Walked away while I was still on top (so to speak), quit while I was ahead (arguably), didn’t foolishly try to hit some arbitrary new Krystal milestone like 20, or doubling my old record with 24.

I ate thirteen of those things, and they were delicious, and I got it out of my system (pun very much intended). I don’t need to return to Krystal for a while now — I’m good! By the time I make it back, this dangerous all-you-can-eat deal will probably be over, and that’s fine with me. I did the unthinkable that day, fearless readers, and lived to tell about it. It was an intense 15 minutes that afternoon, let me tell you!