Condiments and Sauces – Page 2

Istanbul Grill

I love Turkish food. It might be my second-favorite cuisine of all time, after Italian, and the insidious social media algorithms are always sending me reels of the most amazing-looking Turkish street foods that always make me hungry. Unfortunately, Turkish restaurants don’t always last here in Orlando. I was a big fan of Beyti and Cappadocia, but they didn’t survive. Luckily, I have a new favorite, Istanbul Grill (https://istanbulgrillorlando.com/), but unfortunately, it isn’t close to home like Beyti was or close to work like Cappadocia was (especially because my work and home are now one in the same). It is way far south on Orange Blossom Trail, south of the Florida Mall, south of the 528. It’s a haul — about 45 minutes each way in good traffic on a weekend during the day. But I’ve brought home takeout twice from Istanbul Grill, and it was so worth it both times.

It is a big attention-getter to order lavas bread in a Turkish restaurant. They walk it out to your table, this big, beautiful bread puffed up with hot air like a football, and then you stab it with utensils to deflate it (and watch out for the hot steam escaping). It is very soft, and you rip off pieces and use it for dipping and scooping. Of course, if you get lavas bread to go, it deflates on the long drive home, but if you’re lucky, it stays warm and may stay soft overnight if you have any left.

And why do you need soft bread for dipping and scooping? For this mixed appetizer platter! Almost every Turkish restaurant offers a variety of cool, fresh, refreshing dips, and you can usually order some kind of assortment. My favorite is spicy ezme in the top left, almost like Turkish salsa — a combination of fresh tomatoes, onions, parsley, green and red bell peppers, hot peppers, garlic, tomato paste, and lemon juice. My wife wants nothing to do with ezme, so I get it all. In the top right, the tabouli salad is all hers — crushed bulgur wheat, parsley, scallions. and tomatoes with olive oil and fresh mint. She told me this is her favorite tabouli from any restaurant, Turkish or otherwise.In the bottom left, we have baba ganoush — fresh smoked eggplant puree with tahini (sesame paste), olive oil, labneh (strained yogurt thickened into a cheese-like form), mayonnaise, garlic, and lemon juice. We both love this one, but it is her absolute favorite. In the cup in the middle, we have cacik — a dip of creamy yogurt, shredded cucumber, mint, dill, and garlic, perfect for cutting spice and mellowing out rich meats. And in the bottom right, we have the old classic hummus — chick peas, tahini, olive oil, garlic and cumin.

As great as this mixed appetizer bounty is, I do wish Istanbul Grill served two more dips that I rank even above ezme: soslu patlican (eggplant sauteed with tomatoes, onions, and peppers, like a spicy ratatouille) and taramasalata (a creamy dip made with salted, cured fish roe).

For my first visit, I made sure to order lahmacun, one of my Turkish favorites. These thin, round flatbreads look like pizza without cheese, but they are much thinner than even tavern-style pizza and not as crispy, and aren’t sliced. They are topped with a delicious mixture of ground lamb, tomatoes, onions, and peppers, and then baked. Here you get three in an order.
I’ve made lahmacun from scratch before, and I think I’m going to have to do it again soon, since I have ground lamb in the freezer and want to use it up before hurricane season gets hot and heavy. Mine are pretty awesome, but not quite as perfect as Istanbul Grill’s.

Instead of eating lahmacun like pizza, you are supposed to roll it up and fill it with sliced tomatoes, red onions, fresh cilantro, and a squeeze of lemon juice. It is so refreshing and light, much moreso than you would think a pizza-looking thing would be.

My wife ordered “mosakka” (often called moussaka on other restaurants’ menus), an oven-baked dish of eggplant with ground beef and tomato sauce, topped with mozzarella cheese. If you’ve made it this far, you might be more familiar with the Greek version of moussaka, which is often assembled in layers and topped with a bechamel sauce, but both of us really love the tomatoey Turkish variant. I tried a bite, and folks, you have to try this some time! This is actually my preferred moussaka/mosakka.

It was hard for me to choose, but I made the game-time decision (standing at the counter placing my order) to go with lamb adana, grilled kebaps of ground lamb seasoned with red bell peppers. Think of it as a grilled meatloaf with a firmer texture. These were fine, especially when I added some of the house-made hot sauce, but I was hoping they would be a little more exciting, flavor-wise. I almost always gravitate toward lamb dishes at Turkish, Middle Eastern, and Greek restaurants, but I probably would have been happier with the special beef adana, grilled ground beef shoulder kebabs tender seasoned with mint, red bell pepper, onions, chili flakes, and cumin. There seems to be more going on in that one. Leave it to me to choose the lesser adana! Or maybe I should have tried a different lamb dish. Luckily, there would be a next time. They came on a bed of rich rice pilaf (which gets so much better with all the meat drippings soaking in) with a small salad and crunchy pickled red cabbage.

My wife had asked me to pick her a dessert, so instead of baklava, I brought home this kunefe, because she is in her pistachio-loving era. This Middle Eastern dessert is a large “patty” of very fine shreds of dough that almost look like vermicelli strands, often with a sweet cheese filling, soaked in a sugary syrup and topped with crushed pistachios. It looks a bit dry in this photo because the sugar syrup came in a separate little ramekin (not pictured) for us to pour over the kunefe when we got it home. That definitely improved its looks, texture, and most importantly, its taste. I didn’t try it, so I don’t know if this one had cheese inside or not, but she liked it, so that made us both happy.

For our second visit, we got Istanbul bread instead of the fluffy, puffy lavas (that is actually quite thin once you rip it apart). This was very similar to a thicker pita bread or a good pizza crust, minus toppings, and much thicker than the lahmacun. It held up well dipping and scooping the mixed appetizer platter I brought home again.

My wife asked for an order of falafel, which came with four decent-sized discs and a little cup of tahini, which really surprised me when I took a big dip, expecting it to be hummus. I like hummus (who doesn’t?), but straight-up tahini, not so much. These looked darker than your average falafel, so she thought they were burned and ended up not having any after all. I ate them a few days later, so I can vouch for them not being burned and actually being delicious. I made them into two separate sandwiches (two falafels in each) on onion naan bread with homemade pickled cabbage, homemade pickled red onions, tomatoes, Istanbul Grill’s own hot sauce, and Flavortown Secret Sauce from my giant collection of condiments. I should have taken a picture of one of those, because they turned out pretty.

One thing my wife ate with gusto was this order of four beautiful grilled lamb chops, seasoned to perfection. I asked them to grill them as rare as possible. Despite being very thin (much thinner than the thick lamb loin chops I buy at Costco), they were delicious, and seasoned so well. The rice pilaf underneath them got better and better as it soaked up all those savory drippings. She actually got four separate meals out of this, with one lamb chop and a little rice in each portion!

She surprised me by taking a big bite of the grilled pepper on the left, before I could warn her it would be too spicy for her. It was. She won’t do that again! And I ate all the crunchy red pickled cabbage, of course.

This was my lamb shank, a tender, braised chunk of meat barely clinging to a large bone, which was stewed in a tomatoey gravy. This is one of my favorite dishes to order at Turkish or Greek restaurants, but because I love it so much, I learned how to make braised lamb shanks myself at home, and my sauce is a lot thicker, spicier, and more robust overall, especially since I braise mine in the oven for five to six hours. This was perfectly good, but just like I’m exceptionally picky about restaurant lasagna because I love my homemade version so much, I also like my lamb shanks a lot more than this one. Sorry, Istanbul Grill. It’s not you, it’s me.

It came with a big styrofoam container of rice pilaf, which I dumped into the lamb shank’s somewhat thin gravy to soak it up.

And this was the iskender style kebab, a dish I was introduced to a long time ago at Bosphorous, the first Turkish restaurant I fell in love with, and then Cappadocia (RIP) raised the bar even higher. I didn’t eat this until the following day, but it consists of “signature house prepared meat” sliced thin over “garlic bread” (I’m thinking fried Istanbul bread) topped with a tangy, tomatoey “special sauce” and served with yogurt. It is mildly spicy, acidic, and also creamy, and you get the crispiness of the fried bread underneath catching all those meat and sauce drippings. The other Turkish restaurants used their doner kebap meat (think sliced gyro meat, all salty and garlicky usually grilled to make it a little firmer), but this was definitely different from those.

Like I say at the end of too many of these reviews, we both really liked Istanbul Grill, but it is too far from home to return with any regularity, and too far to even drag my wife down there to dine in the restaurant. But I recommend it, and I will challenge myself to keep ordering different things off the expansive menu whenever I return. And FYI, there is a second location in Kissimmee, which is even further from me, but might be more convenient for some.

Cutting the Mustard IV: Mustard on the Beat

Well, it’s Memorial Day weekend, 2025 — a time for many people to get a three-day weekend and get together with family and friends for cookouts. That usually means hamburgers and hot dogs, so that usually means mustard. And because I am obsessed with mustard, that means it is time for my fourth Cutting the Mustard feature, where I spend the better part of a year hunting, discovering, sampling, and reviewing massive multitudes of mustard. These take me a while to write because our fridge is only so big, and I can’t have too many open bottles and jars taking up space at the same time, so I try to finish jars before opening new ones.

For my first-ever Cutting the Mustard back in 2021, I reviewed seven different mustards. In 2022, I raised the stakes by reviewing ten different mustards in Cutting the Mustard II: The Quest for More Mustard. In 2024, I went above and beyond by reviewing 26 mustards (making up for skipping 2023) in Cutting the Mustard III: Mustardy Agreement. And now I’m back again, with more of that yellow condiment you may tolerate, but I love!

Since I’m trying to eat somewhat healthier, with fewer carbs, I tried a lot of these mustards with Kirkland oven-browned turkey breast, which I buy at Costco. It is a boneless, skinless, fully cooked, unsliced turkey breast that is relatively cheap, lean protein. Best of all, it is a blank slate for any kinds of recipes or sandwiches, and it goes with almost any condiments or other accompaniments. Kirkland oven-browned turkey breast is like the vanilla of meats, and I am not saying that as a diss to the turkey or to vanilla. Everyone knows that really good vanilla is delicious, but what I mean is that almost any other flavor goes well with it. So I guess I’m saying that turkey breast is like the capybara of meats, because it gets along well with everything the way capybaras get along with all the other animals.

Way back in Cutting the Mustard II, I reviewed Zakuson Russian Standard mustard, a real sinus-burner. I got the Zakuson Canadian mustard on the left at the same store, the Eastern European grocery store Green Hills Supermarket in Altamonte Springs. Instead of having that nasal burn like Chinese mustard, this one was toned down with a sweet maple flavor. I usually find sweet mustards to be too sweet, but this one was mostly just sticky and bland. I wouldn’t get it again.
I think I found the Simply Supreme Craft Beer mustard at Clemons Produce, arguably Orlando’s best produce market, and my personal favorite. In addition to the freshest fruits and vegetables from Florida and beyond, Clemons always stocks a huge selection of Amish products and other interesting condiments, sauces, sodas, and snacks, plus they have an Amish deli that slices Troyer brand meats and cheeses. This Simply Supreme Craft Beer mustard is a Woeber’s product; I’ve reviewed their Sweet & Spicy and and Hot & Spicy Sandwich Pal mustards before, and both were better. This one lacked the “zing” I always appreciate in mustards, so I could see it going better with bratwurst and other German-style sausages that have stronger flavors of their own.

I know I found the Duke’s spicy ground mustard at Winn-Dixie, and it was really good. I would happily get it again and use it anytime I might employ a spicy brown or deli-style mustard. I am a Duke’s mayonnaise loyalist, and I am happy to report this mustard was on par with the excellent quality of their mayo.

On a rare day I found myself with time to kill in Winter Park, I found a parking space along busy, bougie Park Avenue and went into the busy, bougie Ancient Olive, a store that specializes in different flavors of olive oil and balsamic vinegar. If you love to cook and especially if you make a lot of salads at home, this is a wonderful place to browse, especially since you can sample any of the flavored oils and vinegars before you buy them. I love vinegars almost as much as I love mustard, and I have a little collection of them, but that’s not what you’re here for. I decided to try two fancy mustards from unfamiliar but posh-looking brands.

This is Fischer & Wieser mesquite horseradish mustard, which was as delicious as it sounds. The mesquite smoke flavor sets it apart from other horseradishy, deli-style mustards, and I loved it. Here are two tiny turkey sandwiches on leftover pão de queijo, Brazilian cheese buns, with more of that turkey, a bit of cheese, tomato, and I probably put some hot pickled cherry peppers on those, since I bought a gallon jar and have been putting them on everything lately. But if you’ve ever had pão de queijo before, you know they are really little, so these aren’t big sandwiches by any means.

Here’s a close-up of the jar. This would be terrific on turkey (obviously), roast beef, ham (especially a sweeter ham), you name it.

This is Edmond Fallot honey & smoked paprika mustard, another impulse buy from The Ancient Olive. It is a French brand I’ve never heard of, but it looked interesting, and I’m a sucker for anything smoky, as I just demonstrated. Lately I’ve been making nice pita bread sandwiches with the same turkey, and I tried the honey & smoked paprika mustard alongside turkey, feta cheese, tomatoes, cucumbers, pickled onions, hot pickled cherry peppers, and I think some bleu cheese dressing, which I always get to have for myself when I bring home wings for my wife.

This isn’t a bad condiment, but it is very salty, even by mustard standards. The smokiness is subtle because I think paprika is always a subtle spice, and I didn’t detect any honey flavor or general sweetness. Unfortunately, it doesn’t taste anything like mustard either!

This small jar is still open in my fridge, with a lot left to go. I bought some giant pork loins at Aldi recently, for even cheaper, lean, versatile protein to mess around with, and I intend to experiment more and figure out the best things to do with it. I think it might go better with pork than it did with turkey and all those fresh-tasting accompaniments.

When I reviewed my favorite place in Florida, Mazzaro’s Italian Market in St. Petersburg, last summer, of course I picked up a few unfamiliar mustards while I was there. I had never seen or heard of the MadeWith brand, but I bought their Organic Stoneground and Organic Horseradish mustards, but forgot to take any pictures of the Horseradish one while I was working my way through the bottle. They were very similar, with a thick and almost creamy texture, but the stoneground was a little blander and the horseradish had more flavor without being overpowering or burning my sinuses. MadeWith makes a big deal about their products not containing any GMOs, in case anyone is really into that.
Yes, this was a turkey sandwich on a savory homemade waffle. It was okay, but the waffle got too soft and soggy too quickly and lost its crispness. And that Sir Kensington’s chipotle mayonnaise is awesome on anything and everything. Despite my Duke’s love, I snatched up a few of these bottles when Publix put them on clearance earlier this year. I’ve enjoyed two of Sir Kensington’s mustards in the past as well.

I also found this Pilsudski Polish style mustard at Mazzaro’s. It was thicker and spicier than your typical Gulden’s-style spicy brown mustard, without being as bright as something like Ba-Tampte. It was very good on the best pastrami sandwich in Florida, from The Pastrami Project food truck. Chef-owner George Markward saved our Christmas AND Hanukah by being open on Christmas Day, so I brought home pastrami and brisket sandwiches for us, and the Pilsudski mustard was a good choice to accompany the best pastrami from a place not named Katz’s or Langer’s.

Last year, Beaverton Foods, the Oregon-based company that produces Beaver and Inglehoffer mustards, offered a sale with free shipping, so I ordered six mustards from them.

Every so often, I will treat myself to a whole ham at Aldi, usually when they discount them after a ham-centric holiday like Easter, Thanksgiving, and Christmas. I always joke about my “half-price Hanukah hams,” and how that makes me a good Jew and a bad Jew at the same time. Anyway, I rubbed my most recent ham with a blend of Beaver deli mustard and a pineapple-Scotch bonnet pepper Jamaican hot sauce from a company called Spur Tree, and then I made sure to use a lot more of the deli mustard on the ham sandwiches that followed. It was a very tasty deli mustard, but again lacking the brightness of Ba-Tampte, Boar’s Head, and Kosciusko, three of my all-time favorites.
I should note that the Inglehoffer deli mustard in the round bottle tasted almost identical. I wondered if Beaverton Foods just repackaged the same mustard for their two different brands, and upon checking the website (now that my bottles are long gone), they are similar, with a few minor differences. I noticed they both contain sugar and soybean and/or canola oils, which was disappointing, especially since most mustards don’t contain (or need) any oil or sugar at all, and the Beaver deli mustard contains corn syrup too! I’ve never been big on reading ingredient labels, which probably explains a lot about me, but I need to become more diligent.

Here’s that Beaver deli mustard again, for a taste test with one of those Deutsche Kuche soft pretzel sticks (I pronounce it “Douche cooch”) from Aldi. The mustard in the middle is Bertman Original Ball Park Mustard, which I believe I found at Cavallari Gourmet, an upscale grocery store in Oviedo. It’s a great store, but I can’t say the same about the mustard. It didn’t have any zing or zip, and it was quite bland and uninspired. I’m never sorry I tried anything, but I definitely wouldn’t buy it again. Sorry, Cleveland — you might rock, but your Bertman mustard doesn’t.

On the other hand, the Beaver Coney Island mustard in the above and below photos, did indeed rock. I loved this one. The Coney Island mustard contains cucumbers, red bell peppers, red and green chili peppers, pimento, paprika, onion, garlic, and tomato paste, and it had a lot of rich flavor, especially on the hot dog below. Disappointingly, it also contained soybean oil, wheat flour, sugar, and corn syrup. Seriously, Beaver? Did you really have to go there?
When I think of Coney Island, I definitely think of hot dogs (specifically Nathan’s) and The Warriors, the great 1979 film and recent musical concept album. But “Coney dogs” are a very specific style of hot dog that are not local to Coney Island in Brooklyn; they are from Detroit diners founded by Greek immigrants, and they are smoky dogs topped with a smooth chili sauce, raw onion, and yellow mustard, somewhat similar to the chili-topped hot dogs from Cincinnati chili parlors like Skyline Chili. Here in Orlando, SoDough Square Pizza serves an authentic Detroit coney dog that I loved, but they just use regular yellow mustard. I figured Beaver was trying to approximate the Midwestern chili flavors of Coney dogs rather than anything associated with Nathan’s or the historic Coney Island amusement park.

The Inglehoffer spicy brown mustard was pretty standard. Here it is on the free Chorizo Sunrise breakfast sandwich I get from Einstein Bros. Bagels every year on my birthday: an over-hard egg, a chorizo sausage patty, cheddar cheese, smashed avocado, and jalapeño salsa cream cheese on a green chile bagel. While I try my best to avoid chains and I have high standards for bagels, I admit I really like this breakfast sandwich and the green chile bagels from Einstein Bros. They are much more like rolls than bagels, but I enjoy them a lot just the same. And I always like mustard on my eggs and breakfast sandwiches, so this was a good combination.

Because we were both wondering, the Inglehoffer spicy brown mustard doesn’t contain any oil, the way the deli mustard does.

The Beaver hickory bacon mustard, which I had on this turkey sandwich on a depressing whole wheat roll, was tasty, creamy, and smoky, and it contains actual bacon, so watch out, kosher and halal folks. But I would have been disappointed if I bought a hickory bacon mustard that didn’t contain bacon. Unfortunately, it also contains sugar, honey, and high fructose corn syrup! Like I said, I’m always happy to try anything new, but knowing how Beaverton Foods adulterates its mustards with oils and sweeteners, I wouldn’t get them again. This is why I write reviews, folks, and why I hope people read them. According to my monthly analytics, the jury is still out on that one.

I found this photo of my mustard collection from many years ago, long before I even started writing this blog. You may remember most of these mustards from previous Cutting the Mustard reviews, but you can see I also tried the Beaver spicy hot stone ground and extra hot jalapeño mustards in the past (see them on the right, the two bottles of orangey mustard with red caps). I bought them at Mr. Dunderbak’s, the good and fun German restaurant in Tampa, after trying them with my food. It has been a few years since I’ve tried either of those flavors, but they were delicious and very hot — hotter than most other mustards I’ve had.
The spicy hot stone ground mustard seems to be discontinued, but the extra hot jalapeño mustard does contain soybean oil. Take several seats, Beaverton Foods!

But this is the spiciest thing I am reviewing here today: Matouk’s Calypso hot sauce, a mustard and Scotch bonnet pepper-based hot sauce from the Caribbean island of Trinidad & Tobago. I loooove Trinidadian food (and if you like Jamaican food, you will too), but this sauce was a lot for me. I put some on this simple chicken sandwich on a soft roll with tomato and probably a little onion, knowing me, and it was the most dominant flavor by far. I love spicy food, but I needed to eat a bit of yogurt or drink some milk every time I used the Matouk’s Calypso sauce. It made my tongue and lips tingle and burn that much, but despite all that, it is tasty.

It has been far too long since I’ve had a Jamaican patty, but this mustardy hot sauce would be great with them.

So after a whole year of anticipation (by absolutely nobody), this was the latest crop of new mustards I have found, sampled, and earnestly evaluated. Somehow, it feels like a bit of a letdown after previous years, if I do say so myself. But fear not, stalwart Saboscrivnerinos — I already have a dozen new mustards waiting in the wings to try, after a fruitful trip to South Florida earlier this year. I went down to visit my family and attend a concert with my best friend, where we happened to eat one of the best restaurant meals of my entire life. But I also stopped at an Italian gourmet market and two kosher grocery stores and stocked up on plenty of new and exciting mustards for the 2025-2026 year, so stay tuned, true believers!

That Wing Spot

That Wing Spot (https://www.instagram.com/thatwingspot/) is one of the many successful restaurants from chef-entrepreneur Kwame Boakye, one of the nicest men in Orlando. He brought us Chicken Fire, which started as a humble food trailer in 2019 before moving into its permanent location in the Milk District on East Colonial and Bumby. It remains one of my favorite restaurants in Orlando, and I crave it often. More recently, in 2023, he brought us Cow & Cheese in Maitland, serving up some of the city’s best smash-style burgers.

In between, he rolled out the first That Wing Spot location on South Orange Avenue, which is pretty far from me, so I admit I’ve never made it down there. But since then, Kwame opened up a combination That Wing Spot/Cow & Cheese at the intersection of University Boulevard and Goldenrod Road in Winter Park. I no longer had any excuse, so I made my way down there to try those wings, and of course I had to catch up with an old favorite, too.

At the combination That Wing Spot/Cow & Cheese (better than a Combination Pizza Hut and Taco Bell!), you order at touchscreen monitors, just like at Chicken Fire and the original Cow & Cheese. I was bringing wings and fries home for my wife, but I figured I would enjoy a little treat while I waited: The Doc, Kwame’s signature smash-style burger from the Cow & Cheese side of things. I sang its praises in my original review: “an Oklahoma-style burger, featuring ‘thinly sliced onions smashed into two angus beef patties, each topped with premium American cheese, CC sauce, and deeply caramelized onions, all on a fresh baked toasted brioche bun.'” This one at the new combo location was as messy and as good as the decadent Docs I’ve enjoyed at Cow & Cheese on my past visits, even though I wolfed it down while it was still too hot to fully appreciate.

The burger came out much faster than my order from That Wing Spot, and by the time I was done with it, the wings and fries were ready to go.

I got an order of 20 wings divided into two separate flavors for myself, knowing I’d have leftovers for the following day. I started with KB’s Sweet Heat (KB for Kwame Boakye, of course). I love sweet and spicy flavors together, but I was expecting something a lot spicier, considering the endorphin rush I get from Kwame’s Nashville-style hot chicken tenders at Chicken Fire. There, the medium makes my eyes water and the hot makes my nose run, but they taste so good, the pain is worth it (and I need to drink milk with those tenders). These wings were tasty, but didn’t come close to that level of heat.

My second wing flavor was That Fiery BBQ, which was both sweeter and spicier than KB’s Sweet Heat, with the added bonus of a smoky flavor from the barbecue sauce. I liked these more and would totally get That Fiery BBQ again. Aw heck, who am I kidding? I would definitely try other flavors next time, but I would get both of these again!

I ordered That Big Wing Combo for my wife, which comes with ten or fifteen wings, fries, and a dipping sauce. She asked for Plain Crispy wings, which we both thought could have benefitted from a sauce or seasoning — any sauce or seasoning at all. They were nice, meaty wings, and definitely crispy even after the drive home, but all of Kwame’s sauces and seasonings are so good, even a simple mild buffalo sauce or smoky-sweet “secret” dry rub would have improved the experience with these.

We upgraded our regular fries to Kwame B’s Secret Rub fries, which was as wise a move as getting the plain wings was unwise. These crinkle-cut fries were completely covered in a savory-sweet seasoning that was reminiscent of barbecue-flavored potato chips, and I would put that stuff on any food, including vanilla ice cream. I was completely on board for these, and even my seasoning-averse wife really liked them. Seasoned fries superior, plain fries inferior. Needless to say, they would have been crispier if enjoyed in the restaurant, but at least they were still warm by the time I got home.

That Wing Spot’s house-made bleu cheese AND buttermilk ranch are both worth trying. Don’t settle for just one! I tend to prefer bleu cheese with my wings, the thicker and chunkier the better.

There is one well-known wing joint around here that my wife loves, but I HATE. I can’t stand their wings, and their food always upsets my stomach… but their bleu cheese dip is excellent, so I will still go there to pick wings up for her but always get bleu cheese for myself, since she’s not a dipper or a sauce person anyway. But unlike that restaurant that will go unnamed, here at That Wing Spot, everything is good, and it doesn’t make me sick. I can have it all (even one of the best burgers in Orlando along with these fine wings and fries), and I sure did on this visit. And I will again! Thank you, Kwame. I hope you’re always planning your next restaurant concept, because you’re three for three so far!

M’ama Napoli Italian Bakery & Deli

M’ama Napoli Italian Bakery & Deli (https://www.instagram.com/mamanapoliwinterpark/) is a new business that opened this past summer in Winter Park, just south of Fairbanks Avenue on State Road 17-92. It is a cute café with delicious coffee, pastries, snacks, sandwiches, rustic-looking pizzas, and shelves laden with Italian groceries. There are a few booths inside for lingering over a cappuccino and any number of Italian delicacies.

You can see some of their premade panini sandwiches above the deli meats: the Vesuvio, Procida, Ischia, and Capri. If you right-click on the photo below and open it in a new tab, you can probably even make out the ingredients listed for each.

This glass case includes fresh cannoli, tarts, macarons, and cake slices.

Here are gorgeous pistachio, Nutella, apricot, and almond croissants.

Bombolone are like Italian doughnuts, and these all had different fillings: Bavarian cream, apricot, Nutella, and pistachio cream (which seems to be becoming a trendy dessert ingredient).

And here are flaky, shell-shaped sfogliatella pastries, with a light, crispy texture and a smooth cream filling with the slightest hint of lemon.

M’ama Napoli has several shelves of imported Italian groceries, including some nice-looking fruit preserves, pickled peppers, and tomato sauces.

For the first order I ever brought home, I selected some cream-filled conchiglia puff pastries and a croissant filled with almond paste (marzipan) for my wife who loves almond-flavored anything. While I still give the edge to Benjamin French Bakery in Thornton Park for the best croissants in Orlando, my wife and I enjoyed all these pastries.

I also got an incredible sandwich on freshly baked, fluffy focaccia bread, the Toto. I’m sure it wasn’t named for the yacht rock-adjacent band that featured David Paich, Steve Lukather, and the Porcaro brothers, but it was full of paper-thin slices of prosciutto, fresh mozzarella, arugula, tomatoes, and shaved parmigiano cheese. I loved it. It was huge, too!

Here is a better photo of the Toto sandwich from our second visit. My wife doesn’t share my obsession with sandwiches, but she likes good bread, prosciutto, fresh mozz, and arugula — pretty much everything but the tomatoes — so she had most of this one.

That time, I tried the Maradona sandwich, with salami, fresh mozzarella, and arugula. The salami was really high-quality, but since I ate this sandwich at home, I plussed it up with the tomatoes from my wife’s Toto sandwich, some hot cherry peppers, and balsamic glaze.

And this was a special sandwich that was only available that day, with prosciutto, fresh mozzarella, shaved parmesan cheese, and some kind of creamy sauce that gave it a bit of a funky flavor, but not unpleasant. It was an umami bomb, though!
I would probably skip this one in the future, just because the Toto is so great, and there are lots of other sandwich options too — not just on focaccia, but pressed paninis as well. Maybe I’ll try a focaccia sandwich with mortadella next time, which is like very posh bologna that sometimes contains pistachios.

There are only a few parking spaces behind the building, off busy State Road 17-92, but I’ve had decent parking karma on my two visits to M’ama Napoli so far (which is more than I can say for many of Orlando’s most popular dining districts). Check it out, and I’m sure you won’t be disappointed, especially if you get the Toto or one of the other focaccia sandwiches!

Mazzaro’s Italian Market (St. Petersburg)

Mazzaro’s Italian Market (https://www.mazzarosmarket.com/), located in mainland St. Petersburg, Florida (not on St. Pete Beach) is to me what Walt Disney World is to most people — a land of magic and wonders, an expensive way to have a grand time, and if not the happiest place on Earth, then one of the happiest places in Florida for sure.

The market is huge — not quite as large as a Publix-style supermarket, or even as big as the two-story Eataly in Chicago, but much larger than Orlando’s beloved Stasio’s Italian Deli and Market or even the new D’Amico & Sons Italian Market and Bakery. (Honestly, I enjoy it so much more than the very corporate and bougie Eataly.) It seems to sprawl on forever, with a wine room, a cheese room, a cafe, a gelato area, counters for freshly made sandwiches, deli meats and cheese sliced to order, hot prepared foods, fresh pasta, and this scenic bakery to your left when you enter, where everything is made from scratch, like almost everything else in Mazzaro’s. It is always crowded, so you’ll have to jostle your way through the narrow, mazelike aisles. Midwesterners, prepare to say “Ope!” a lot, while New Yawkers might prefer “Eyyy, I’m walkin’ here!”

Back in 2022, my wife chose this simple cannoli from the bakery, with the crispy-crunchy pastry shell piped full of rich, sweet cream and dipped into crushed pistachios.

This was a gorgeous sfogliatelle, a delicate shell-shaped pastry made of dozens of crispy layers of dough, with cream in the middle (usually a bit lemony), dusted with powdered sugar so it looks more like it came from Miami than St. Petersburg. Luckily, one can get sfogliatelle in Orlando now, at Stasio’s or D’Amico & Sons, but on a rare pilgrimage to Mazzaro’s, you have to try everything you can. One of my favorite food-related activities is “Dare… To Compare!”, and this pastry shell will make you yell “Shell yeah!”

Hilariously, my wife calls sfogliatelle “schmuckatelli.” I could listen to her say that all day.

I don’t even remember what this thing was! Some sort of fruity center, for sure.

Heck, we brought these two sugar-topped beauties home with us last month, and I don’t remember what they were either!

My wife is a sucker for a good New York style black and white cookie, which are more like cake when done right, with the slightest hint of lemon underneath the rich, shiny icing. This one, from our most recent visit last month, was as good as any we’ve gotten from New York bagel shops, bakeries, and delis.

As I said, Mazzaro’s is almost always crowded, but never moreso on Fridays or Saturdays, where everyone feels packed in like a certain tinned fish I love. That may be a reason the store seems so large, because it takes so long to traverse and even longer to take it all in. When you finally make it past the bakery, weaving through equally overwhelmed shoppers experiencing sensory overload in that maze of shelves for non-perishable groceries, you will find yourself faced with a plethora of options for fresh pasta, prepared foods, and deli sandwiches.

Here are just a few of the fresh filled pastas to choose from, which you can order by the pound.

There is a large refrigerated case with more handmade pasta already rationed and weighed in convenient containers.

I’ve never ordered any of the prepared foods because I’m always just passing through, but if you lived locally, you could easily take care of dinner for a single person, a couple, a small family, or even a big party. Yes, for those in the St. Pete area, Mazzaro’s caters as well, and I have to imagine you would be the host with the most or the hostess with the mostest if you brought in their fine fare.

My wife doesn’t share my obsession with Italian subs or sandwiches in general, so on our 2022 trip, she ordered this pair of lobster and seafood rolls from the deli counter. She prefers lobster rolls served warm with butter (Connecticut style), whereas I prefer them served cold with mayo and a little bit of diced celery for crunch (Maine style), and that’s what these were. I ended up eating the vast majority of these, which was fine with me. On our return in 2024, she remembered this was not the way (at least not for her), so she ordered a grilled caprese sandwich, with tomato, fresh basil, fresh mozzarella, and pesto spread on grilled Italian bread, and devoured it with gusto on Mazzaro’s covered patio, despite not liking fresh tomatoes or sandwiches that much. I didn’t even get a photo of it!

This is Mazzaro’s tried-and-true #1 from our 2022 visit: ham, Genoa salami, capicola, mortadella, provolone cheese, Romaine lettuce, tomatoes, onion, roasted peppers, Italian slaw, and oil and vinegar on fresh-baked Italian bread from a wood-fired oven. It’s a magnificent Italian sub, and I say that with pride and authority, since an Italian sub may just be my favorite meal (and is definitely my favorite sandwich).The Italian slaw is no joke, adding a tangy, vinegary crunch to the sub. More places should experiment with different kinds of cabbage slaw on sandwiches.

I had to get another #1 when we returned in 2024, and I asked for this one on a softer hoagie roll to try it a little different. I actually preferred it this way, because my one minor complaint about Mazzaro’s sandwiches is that sometimes the bread is a little burnt on the outside (see above).

If you recognize our familiar plates from dozens of takeout reviews, it’s because I always order these sandwiches and bring them home with me, rather than do the two and a half hour drive on a full stomach. I will enjoy them more in the comfort of my own home, and it gives the intense flavors time to marry and marinate. Usually I bring a cooler when I know I’ll be stopping by Mazzaro’s.

And I can’t go to Mazzaro’s without also ordering a #7 for later. This sandwich is both beauty and beast, with prosciutto di Parma, sweet soppressata, hot capicola, marinated sun-dried tomatoes (one of my favorite ingredients in sandwiches, salads, and sauces), and fresh mozzarella on a ciabatta roll. Both the #1 and #7 sandwiches taste even better after a drive back to Orlando and a night in the fridge.

Here’s my latest #7 from our most recent visit in July 2024. The outside of the ciabatta roll was overdone, but the interior ingredients are so good, the sandwich couldn’t possibly be ruined.

I also brought home three different, interesting salumi, so we could have a little salami as a treat: a bison salami from Angel’s Salumi & Truffles (no truffles for us, though!), a venison, pork, and pinot noir salami from Driftless Provisions, and a “bonfire cider” salami from Short Creek Farms (which I don’t see on their website, so here are all the salami).

The one disappointment for me, even though it sounded like a can’t-miss delicacy, were these prosciutto “chips,” made in house by Mazzaro’s. Prosciutto might be my favorite meat ever, and it is definitely one of the finest things you can make out of pork. However, a major part of its appeal is getting it sliced paper-thin so it almost melts in your mouth, with a pleasant chewiness. These crispy, crunchy strips lost that experience, although fans of crunchy bacon might like them more than I did.

I could have run amok a lot more on this most recent visit, but the relentlessly hangry crowds seriously stress out my poor wife. I resolved to go without her next time, whether I’m coming or going from St. Pete, so I can linger longer without guilt and she can be spared the entire hectic experience.

As much as I appreciate the Italian markets in and around Orlando, there is nothing like a trip to Mazzaro’s, which is why I’ve been recommending it to St. Petersburg locals and tourists alike for years (and even recommending Orlando denizens consider it for a day trip, because it is that rad). Heck, I wish I could pop over there right now, but I’m writing this on a Sunday evening, and it wouldn’t be open anyway. For such a popular place, they have pretty limited hours, so review them in advance so you don’t schlep over there and end up disappointed:

Mon-Fri: 9am-5pm
Saturday: 9am-2:30pm
Sunday: Closed

And if you’re already a “Mazzaro’s Adult” (not quite the same as a Disney Adult, am I right?), let me know what your can’t-miss favorites are for my next visit, whenever that might be.

Ted Peters Famous Smoked Fish (St. Petersburg)

Ted Peters Famous Smoked Fish (https://tedpetersfish.com/) is a legendary landmark in St. Petersburg, Florida, right off the beach. It is a perfect example of a classic “Old Florida” seafood restaurant and smokehouse, the kinds of places that barely exist anymore, but those that remain are both time capsules and treasures. Founded in 1951 and still family-owned and in its original location, Ted Peters conjures up sights, smells, and tastes of a bygone era, but luckily we can still enjoy them today. In fact, just last month, Southern Living magazine (which features some pretty great food writing) included Ted Peters in its list of Florida’s 17 Most Legendary Restaurants. (I have been to five of them and reviewed one other on this blog, Bern’s Steak House.)

I first visited Ted Peters with my wife several years ago, long before I started writing as The Saboscrivner in 2018. But strangely enough, neither of us remembered much about our first visit, aside from that I liked it. I’ve been wanting to return for years, and on a recent weekend getaway to St. Pete Beach, it was my first stop after checking into our hotel and depositing my wife in our room. I brought back a takeout feast, knowing the room had a mini-fridge in case we couldn’t finish everything. But we were both stunned by the portion sizes upon my return — somehow you’d think that would have stuck in my memory when we ate there the first time, but it didn’t. This recent visit was like getting to experience it all again for the first time.

Just so you know, it doesn’t get much more casual than this place. There are plenty of tables on a covered patio, and they can pull down outer walls in case it rains, as it did on the sweltering late June afternoon I showed up there. There is also an enclosed dining room with some rustic decor — wood-paneled walls and stuffed animal heads. I just poked my head in the room but didn’t linger. You can order beer (or root beer) in frosty glass mugs, but it’s a family-friendly restaurant in every way, not some kind of dirty dive (although it was featured on Guy Fieri’s Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dives show).

This is the menu that hangs above the bar, with accurate prices as of June 30th, 2024:

They offer four kinds of smoked fish, all smoked over red oak wood: salmon, mullet, mahi mahi, and mackerel, but mackerel was out of season. Both of our orders came in huge white paper boxes, like the kind of boxes a bakery would send you home with a large pie or cake in. Like I said, we were both stunned back at the hotel when I opened everything up and saw how much fish they give you.

My wife asked for a smoked salmon lunch, which comes with fish, tomato, onion, pickle, and lemon. It was a huge hunk of salmon, hot-smoked to a golden brown color, compared to the delicate pink nova salmon we know and love from a lifetime of bagel breakfasts, appetizing stores, and delicatessens. The hot-smoked salmon was drier and flakier than the tender, thin-sliced nova that melts in your mouth, but it was still really good. You just have to think of it as its own thing — not as salty as nova, but much more oily and “fishy.”
The entire piece had thin, crispy salmon skin underneath that was easy to separate, even with the flimsy plastic fork and knife they included, but we both love salmon skin, so it was a nice surprise treat.

Because mackerel was out of season, I ordered a mullet dinner for myself, and not just because I had a mullet back in 8th and 9th grade. This was a nice piece of fish, even longer than the salmon filet, just not as thick because mullet is a smaller fish. This one reminded me more of the golden smoked whitefish I treat myself to every few years, which I pull apart to make rich, decadent whitefish salad. Like whitefish, mullet is full of long, thin, plasticky, pin-like bones that you have to carefully remove, as well as one long spine that you can pull out in one piece like a cat in an old-timey cartoon. As a result, the mullet was harder to eat in a hotel room due to how messy it is, but we brought a lot home, packed tightly in a cooler with ice, and I made it into some smoked mullet salad back in my kitchen.

Unlike the salmon, you can’t eat the scaly skin of the mullet (the entire underside), so I did what I could to peel it all off, along with the tail, fins, and all those bones. The little sauce containers were a creamy horseradish sauce that had a slight sweetness (not nearly as intensely spicy as the horseradish sauce at Orlando’s beloved Beefy King) and another sauce that was seemingly ranch (that one was for the Swifties), but possibly with some Cajun seasoning added. I brought those home as well and added them to the flaky, deboned mullet (because the meat is also drier than the smoked whitefish I’m used to).

The difference between the lunch and the dinner is that the dinner comes with cole slaw and potato salad, so of course I had to try those! The cole slaw was creamy, crunchy, and refreshing, perfect for cutting through the intensely fishy, oily, smoky flavors and textures.

The potato salad is actually German potato salad, so it is tangy and the slightest bit sweet from being made with apple cider vinegar instead of the standard mayonnaise. It is also rich, smoky, and has a nice blend of soft and crunchy textures from crumbles of bacon. It was served warm, as German potato salad usually is, and it was terrific. I’m so glad I sprang for the dinner instead of the lunch.

I couldn’t go to Ted Peters and not try their famous smoked fish spread, which I definitely did not try on my first visit however long ago. My wife didn’t care for it as much as the salmon and mullet, but surprise surprise, I liked it even more — maybe due to it being less intensely fishy and smoky. The fish (I’m assuming mullet, but it could be a blend) was mixed into a uniform creamy consistency with mayo and sweet pickle relish, adding some sweetness, coolness, and crunch. It reminded me of a really terrific tuna salad with that smoky flavor shining through but not overpowering.
At the restaurant, you can order smoked fish spread with Saltine crackers, but for takeout orders, you just order it by the half-pint, pint, or quart. I got a half-pint, and it didn’t come with crackers, so I had to run by Publix to buy some Saltines. They were fine, but I still contend that anything Saltines can do, Ritz can do better. But my wife loves Saltines, and I wanted to follow the founders’ intent here.

At this point, a couple of you might be lamenting “What if I don’t eat fish?” or “What if I don’t like smoked fish?” Well, first of all, I would probably suggest trying a different restaurant. There are so many to choose from up and down St. Pete Beach and on the mainland, and many are in the good-to-great range. But just in case, I had always read that Ted Peters Famous Smoked Fish serves really tasty burgers, and I had to put that to the test. I’m a cheeseburger guy, and I think American cheese is the best cheese you can put on a burger. But my wife doesn’t like cheese on burgers, so I ordered a plain hamburger with her in mind, just in case any of the fish were “too fishy” for her. When I showed her the plain burger as an option, she said it looked a little sad, plus she surprised both of us by liking the smoked salmon and mullet as much as she did.

Now I like a lot of stuff on a burger (surprise, surprise), so if it looked sad, that’s because it was plain. Since she wanted nothing to do with it, I added ketchup, yellow mustard, and relish (from included packets), the “seemingly ranch” sauce, and lettuce and tomato. It was delicious! It tasted like a burger you’d get at a cookout with that nice flavor from the grill. The bun was your typical squishy white bread bun, not grilled or toasted or anything, but absolutely fine for what it was. Adding American cheese and grilled onions and grilling the bun might have brought this burger over the top, but I have no complaints. If you don’t want your fingers or your breath to smell like smoked fish for hours after dining, like if you’re on a really hot date at Ted Peters, then consider the burger.

Now key lime pie is one of my favorite desserts ever, but my wife doesn’t share my love for it. I was all ready to skip the tempting key lime pie on Ted Peters’ menu for the second time, but it was actually her idea to order a slice. Of course I did not argue! It was nice and tangy, an ideal dessert for balancing out smoky, rich fish, but the crust was rather crumbly and a bit bland. Rather than the standard moist graham cracker crust, it might have been made of shortbread or even ‘Nilla Wafers, that mainstay of Southern-style banana pudding. (When I was a little Saboscrivner, before I spent 15 years working for a Catholic law school, I used to think the “wafers” consumed during Catholic mass were ‘Nilla Wafers.)
I would definitely recommend it anyway, since key lime pie is Florida’s official dessert (or should be), and it does go so perfectly at the end of a meal like this. But this is a rare occasion where I might give the edge to the Publix bakery, and I would be remiss if I didn’t credit the award-winning baker Evette Rahman of Sister Honey’s Bakery in Orlando for making the best key lime pie I’ve ever had in my life.

So anyway, Southern Living is right on about this place. And if you don’t believe me and don’t believe them, my friend and role model Amy Drew Thompson, the food writer for the Orlando Sentinel, is a fellow fan of Ted Peters Famous Smoked Fish, and she definitely knows what she’s talking about. But hopefully you can see from my words and pictures that Ted Peters is a unique experience, something that is all too rare in Florida and almost nonexistent anywhere else. After our most recent visit to St. Pete Beach, I said again what I’ve said before, that if I had to live anywhere in Florida that isn’t in or around Orlando, the St. Pete/Tampa area would be it for me. My wife and I love St. Pete Beach for short little weekend getaways, but it would totally be worth a day trip from Orlando just to take in a taste of timeless Old Florida at Ted Peters Famous Smoked Fish. Eat on the patio, spring for the dinner so you can have German potato salad and cole slaw, get your hands a little dirty, raise a frosty mug, and be glad that after all these decades and generations, the crew at Ted Peters still smokes fish every day.

Cutting the Mustard III: Mustardy Agreement

Here we are again on Memorial Day weekend, a time to honor heroic fallen soldiers, when people often gather to have cookouts with loved ones over the long holiday weekend. For Memorial Day in 2021 and 2022, I dropped my first two Cutting the Mustard features, when I reviewed a whole bunch of different mustards just in time for a lot of Americans to gorge on hot dogs and burgers, hopefully to give my dozens of readers some ideas to reach beyond the plain yellow stuff.

For my first Cutting the Mustard, I reviewed seven different mustards, and for my second mustardy mega-review, Cutting the Mustard II: The Quest for More Mustard, I reviewed ten mustards. I didn’t get around to writing one of these last year, but I’ve tried a lot of mustards over the past two years, so now I’m reviewing and recommending more mustards than anyone ever thought possible… not that anyone has ever given these a thought anyway.

I always challenge myself to try each mustard with multiple applications — on sandwiches, burgers, and dogs, in dressings and marinades, and as a dip for fries, Gabila’s potato knishes, and Deutsche Kuche (pronounced “douche cooch”) soft pretzels from Aldi. Certain mustards excel for certain uses, and it is rare to find a perfect all-purpose mustard. But just like with root beers, chili, pasta salads, onion rings, pimento cheese, Italian subs, and tinned sardines (which I review in my ‘Dines List features), each brand, flavor, and style of mustard is a little different, and I find them all worth sampling and reviewing.

Here are just a few of the contenders, so let’s see which of these tangy condiments reach or surpass the desired standard or performance, or in other words, which ones cut the mustard!

I found Bookbinder’s stone ground dijon mustard at Publix quite a while ago, although I haven’t seen it there in quite a while. I admit to not being the biggest dijon fan in the world, but this was a lot more mellow and less spicy than the industry standard (especially in the hip hop community), Grey Poupon. The main thing I do with dijon mustard is rub it on lamb chops before roasting them in the oven until they turn rare. Bookbinder’s worked fine for this purpose.

Publix seems to have stopped carrying the Mister Mustard brand too, but I picked up a jar of the hot kind while I could. It definitely brought the heat. Here I used it with a takeout Waffle House All-Star Special with eggs over hard, sausage, hash browns covered with melted American cheese, and white toast. I love mustard on eggs, and I’m always willing to risk bringing home breakfast so I can apply mustards from my own collection.

I have already proven my deep, undying, unironic love for Waffle House, so here’s another All-Star takeout breakfast (hopefully from a photo taken months apart), this time with Zatarain’s Creole mustard spread on the toast. This was a terrific mustard, also found at Publix. It was a lot like a typical spicy brown deli-style mustard (which is typically my favorite kind of mustard), with maybe a bit more “zing.”

I make pretty epic breakfast sandwiches at home, and here is Braswell’s chipotle mustard on one of them. I treat my breakfast sandwiches like grilled cheese sandwiches — I spread Duke’s mayo on the outside of the bread and then grill them in a hot pan, but I actually add an entire HEAD of chopped garlic directly to the mayo jar, so it always has garlicky flavor and a bit of texture too. This particular sandwich looks like it had eggs, American cheese, sautéed onions, sliced tomato, and some of the tangy, smoky chipotle mustard, which I liked a lot. It had a little bit of heat, but not a lot. I love spicy food that has flavor, but I don’t like overpowering, sadistic heat that overwhelms and destroys other flavors. This was a nice one, and I think I got it when it was on sale at Publix.

I tried these three mustards together for a taste test with one of the aforementioned Gabila’s knishes, which you can buy frozen at Publix and Winn-Dixie stores. While some delis and bagel shops serve fresh-baked potato knishes, I like the onion-heavy, fried style from Gabila’s that some restaurants proudly serve for their consistency, taste, and unique shape. The Publix Deli-Style mustard with horseradish is a real winner — a standard deli mustard that is cheap, but never disappoints. Great on almost any kind of sandwich, hot dogs, and knishes, you just can’t go wrong. I even like it more than Gulden’s spicy brown mustard!I picked up the Cracovia extra hot mustard at International Food Club, a sprawling, warehouse-like market that features a staggering selection of foods from all over the world, with a special focus on Europe and the Middle East. It’s a fun and fascinating place to shop, and I always come home with a few new impulse buys. Cracovia, a Polish brand, is one of the hotter mustards I’ve sampled, but I like it more than some of the others (like the hot Mister Mustard, for example). I like it paired with ham, where the heat balances out the sweetness inherent in the cured meat. It is like a slightly thicker yellow mustard with tiny flecks of green and red, but it lacks the overwhelming brightness so many everyday yellow mustards feature.

Finally, the Braswell’s Vidalia onion mustard sounded good, but I found it a bit too sweet and also kind of watery. You can tell there was a lot of real, finely grated sweet onion in the mix, which I appreciate, and I love onions. In fact, I buy sweet onions for almost all my cooking, even when recipes call for white, yellow, or red instead. But this mustard lacked any savory bite and was just disappointingly sweet.

In my first Cutting the Mustard feature, I reviewed Sir Kensington’s Dijon mustard. Since then, I really got into Sir Kensington’s spicy brown, which I like a lot more than the Dijon. It has a mellow sweetness from maple syrup and cane sugar, but isn’t cloyingly sweet like a lot of other mustards I’ve tried here.

I swiped some onto a corned beef sandwich I made on what looks like a green chile bagel from Einstein Bros. Bagels. It isn’t the best bagel shop and certainly not the most authentic, but I really love the green chile bagels just the same. They are more like rolls than bagels. With all the rich, salty ingredients, the slight sweetness of the maple-infused spicy brown Sir Kensington’s really brightened up this decadent sandwich.

There is a time and a place for sweet mustards that incorporate honey or maple syrup, and honey mustard can be a wonderful salad dressing. (The house salad with honey mustard is one of the only things I like at Outback Steakhouse, along with the Bloomin’ Onion and brown bread.) But too many mustard companies take the sweetness way too far.

My best friend sent me a dazzling, delightful birthday present — a sampler of six Wisconsin-made mustards from the National Mustard Museum in Middleton, Wisconsin (a real place). Most of them were awesome, but the thick, syrupy Bucky Badger honey mustard pretzel dip on the left was just too sweet for me, even spread on a soft pretzel. But funny thing about this one — my wife, who does not share my mustard obsession, loves this one! Maybe because it tastes like a dessert.

The Wisconsin gift set from the National Mustard Museum also included a Sprecher root beer mustard that was sweet, but not too sweet, with the delicious herbal flavors I love so much in root beer. Unlike the Bucky Badger honey mustard dip, it was terrific on this pretzel. However, I liked the root beer mustard best on roast beef sandwiches, and when I treat myself to roast beef, I get the Dietz & Watson London broil top round roast beef from the Winn-Dixie deli. It is always really rare, with terrific seasoning. I never roast my own beef, but maybe I should, so I can put more mustard on it.

I opened a bottle of Hickory Farms honey pineapple mustard to go with this roast beef sandwich, but it was also way too sweet, and yet it didn’t taste like pineapple at all. However, the biggest surprise was that a Hickory Farms store still existed in 2022, even though it was seasonal like Spirit Halloween!

Terrapin Ridge Farms is a company based in Clearwater, Florida, that makes fancy, high-end condiments, sauces, dressings, dips, and preserves. I tried their dill pickle mustard in my first Cutting the Mustard feature and thought it was just okay. This time I tried their smokey maple bacon mustard and thought it was way too sweet and not smokey or bacony enough. I waited patiently for these to go on sale before trying it, but I wouldn’t get it again.

I also tried Terrapin Ridge Farms’ Nashville hot spice mustard on some toasted pita bread and a fried pita chip here. It was spicy, but didn’t really taste like mustard at all! I experimented with it more on chicken, since I do love Nashville-style hot chicken, and it was just okay, but not great. We are lucky to have a pair of amazing Nashville-inspired hot chicken restaurants in Orlando: Chicken Fire and JAM Hot Chicken. I love them both and crave them often. I’ve even attempted to make my own Nashville hot chicken at home, but it was labor-intensive and made a mess. That’s something I leave to the professionals now, and I would also leave the Terrapin Ridge mustards on the shelf from now on.

Here are three more mustards that I tried with Aldi pretzel sticks. The champagne mustard came from a HoneyBaked Ham store, where I love their spiral-sliced ham and smoked turkey breast. They sell some pricey condiments, so I gambled on this one, but unfortunately lost. It was kind of a creamy mustard and very dill-heavy, so I could never get into it. It probably would have been great with salmon, but as much as I love salmon both raw and cured, I never cook it or order it cooked. Anyway, I don’t even see the champagne mustard listed on the website anymore, so maybe it never caught on. The other two mustards came in the Wisconsin gift set from the National Mustard Museum. The one in the middle was a sweet mustard, but one I actually liked: East Shore slow-cooked cranberry mustard, also made in Wisconsin. While it was sweet (and extremely sticky and thick), I appreciated how the tartness of the cranberries gave it an extra dimension and kept it from being cloying like the previous sweet mustards that were too sweet.

Finally, Ringhand’s beer mustard, in the squeeze bottle, was my favorite from the National Mustard Museum gift set. Made with brown beer, this creation of Wisconsin Democratic state senator Janis Ringhand was excellent on everything, from pretzels and knishes to ham, roast beef, and turkey sandwiches, hot dogs, burgers, and more. It was salty, a little spicy, a little tart, and one of those rare mustards with endless uses. I loved it, especially on some good dogs.

I found this Tracklements hot horseradish mustard in a little jar at Sprouts supermarket. A little goes a long way, and it was great for clearing my sinuses, yet still not as nose-runningly, eye-tearingly hot as typical Chinese mustard or Colman’s mustard prepared from the powder. It also went very well with ham.

I wish I could remember which takeout establishment included a packet of Woeber’s spicy brown mustard, but it was a pleasant surprise. Sharp-eyed Saboscrivnerinos may remember I included two other Woeber’s mustards in Cutting the Mustard II: the hot & spicy and sweet & spicy varieties. This one was more versatile and probably more of a crowd-pleaser than either of those — different enough from Gulden’s and the Publix brand that a mustard maven would want to try it on a deli sandwich or a dog. I see Woeber’s products for sale in Orlando at Gordon Food Service (GFS) on East Colonial Drive and Clemons Produce on Curry Ford Road.

Just like Waffle House, I have made no secret of my ridiculous love for White Castle, and I consider that review one of the best ones I’ve ever written. On that first-ever trip to Orlando’s White Castle, I didn’t get to try their Dusseldorf mustard, but I made sure to request some packets on a more recent return trip, where I came home with another Crave Case of cheese sliders. I had been unfamiliar with Dusseldorf mustard, but I’d have to describe it as “spicy brown mustard without a hint of anything spicy.” It was fine, but without the zippy spice of Gulden’s or the bright tang of a standard yellow mustard, it didn’t stand out to me as anything special. That slider sure tasted good, though!

Not one to give up easily, I bought a bottle of this Carnegie Deli branded Dusseldorf mustard at the Brooklyn Water Bagel Company, a chain bagel shop that I rarely go to, even though it isn’t bad. They sell Carnegie Deli pastrami, which I haven’t tried there, even though my family and I went to the legendary Carnegie Deli on our one and only family trip to New York City back in the summer of 1991 (along with the Stage Deli, Lindy’s, and Grabstein’s in Brooklyn — all gone, but not forgotten). Several Internet altacockers have told me that now, Carnegie Deli is just one more brand name, but the products aren’t anything like they were in the real deli during its glory decades. It’s safe to say this Dusseldorf mustard was okay, but again, it lacked the zippiness of Ba-Tampte, Boar’s Head, or even Publix’s deli mustard. In fact, “it’s safe” is the safest thing I can say about it. Once again, the White Castle sliders slapped, with or without mustard.

I found Gold’s deli mustard for the first time ever at Doris Italian Market, a small chain of five awesome Italian grocery stores in South Florida, on a trip down in 2022. It was similar to Ba-Tampte — a decent all-purpose deli mustard, more yellow than brown in color — but not as good as Ba-Tampte. Few mustards are. But it brightened up these kraut-covered hot dogs on grilled buns, and you can’t ask for much more than that.

I also found this Sabrett brand spicy brown mustard on the same trip to Doris Italian Market. You can buy Sabrett brand hot dogs at every Publix in the state, but I had never seen the mustard before, and I had to try it. It was kind of like they mixed Gulden’s (the industry standard spicy brown) with a yellow mustard, and somehow toned down the spice during the processing. You can even see from the bottle that it is more yellow than brown, and you don’t even see the granulated mustard seeds in it. It was fine on a slider and on some hot dogs, but I was surprised Sabrett’s mustard didn’t excite or excel as well as the brand’s beloved dogs. I preferred Gold’s to the Sabrett.

Speaking of national hot dog brands and their own mustards, my dad asked me to find him Nathan’s Famous deli style mustard, which had disappeared from stores all over Florida, and apparently elsewhere too. I did some research and found out it still existed, but the trademark had most likely been sold to a different company. I tracked down a company that ships it, Pop Pop Foods, but you have to buy three bottles (still not bad for $2.99 each), and then they charge a flat shipping rate of $18. I couldn’t justify it for myself, but I sent a care package to my dad down in Miami, with three bottles of the deli style and three bottles of the spicy brown mustard. When I visited my parents at their house last summer, I saw they had an open bottle of the Nathan’s Famous deli style mustard in the fridge, and I begged to try a little on one of these little pinwheel sandwiches. It was really good, just as I remembered. Definitely better than the Sabrett mustard above. I didn’t try the spicy brown, but I’m sure that was good too. I still can’t bear to pay $36 for six bottles of two different kinds of mustard just for myself, but if anyone else would like to go in on an order with me, just say the word. I would just want one deli style and one spicy brown, in case any of my constant readers in Orlando would also like to get some Nathan’s Famous mustard.

I have only ever found Plochman’s Intense Cuban Style mustard at Winn-Dixie too, but it is awesome, especially as a substitute for yellow mustard on Cuban sandwiches like this homemade version (which was probably prettier when I first assembled it, but this looks like I pulled it out of the fridge). I baked the ham and marinated and roasted the pork loin myself, but the pickles were Grillo’s and the bread was from Winn-Dixie, same as the mustard. It had a really nice, spicy zing and some flavor from garlic and citrus. It was really good mixed with a bit of mayo as a seafood sauce, too. It was different from the Sam’s Choice Cuban mustard I reviewed in my first Cutting the Mustard, and I give the edge to Plochman’s.

Here are two familiar faces with a Gabila’s knish and a new contender on the left: Silver Spring whole grain mustard, part of my gift set from the National Mustard Museum (since Silver Spring is a national brand made in Wisconsin). I usually avoid whole grain mustard with the round, crunchy mustard seeds in it, but this was the best version I’ve tried of that kind of mustard. Usually I don’t care for a condiment crunching between my teeth like a mouthful of Nerds candy, but it had a good flavor to counterbalance that texture.
Plochman’s chili dog yellow mustard, the third one, is brown in color rather than yellow, but that accounts for all the spices added to it. It’s uncanny how it tastes like a chili dog with mustard already on it! The ingredients mention dehydrated onion, paprika, and turmeric (possibly for color), as well as the mysterious “spices.” I definitely taste heavy cumin and garlic, and I’m guessing there is some ingredient that gives it a very slight smoky flavor too. It is also really salty, even by mustard standards. Like the Plochman’s Intense Cuban Style mustard, I bought it at Winn-Dixie, and I’m having a hard time using up the big bottle.

I’m sure these aren’t the only new mustards I’ve tried over the past two years, but I don’t have pictures of all of them. In my travels, I tried the hot mustard at Philippe the Original, one of the oldest restaurants in Los Angeles, which claims to be the birthplace of the French dip sandwich. I also found Sy Ginsberg’s deli mustard on the tables at the excellent Palm Avenue Deli in Sarasota, Florida — a tasty mustard I’ve never seen for sale anywhere or at any other restaurants.

I make no secret of my love of condiments and sauces, and I’m always searching for new mustards to buy and try, since each one holds its own unique promises. I worry I’m starting to run out of mustard I can purchase locally in the Orlando area, so if you have some good local brands I haven’t mentioned in my three Cutting the Mustard features so far, please let me know. And if any readers want to send me some mustards to review in future installments, my journalistic integrity isn’t strong enough to make me stop you. I hope this was informational, or at least entertaining in some weird way. If you find yourself enjoying some burgers or hot dogs with family or friends over the remaining Memorial Day weekend, I hope you consider trying a new mustard, and I hope you’ll let me know what it was and how you liked it. And if not, why not? Are you YELLOW?

Smoke & Donuts BBQ

Not to be confused with the similarly named Smoke & Dough in Miami, Orlando’s Smoke & Donuts (https://www.smokeanddonuts.com/) is a relatively new restaurant that started serving excellent barbecue and beautiful, festive cake doughnuts just over a year ago, right in one of the best foodie neighborhoods in the city, the Milk District.

My wife and I recently had our first meal at Smoke & Donuts, and me being me, I made sure we could sample as many things from their eclectic menu as possible. The restaurant is open from 11 AM to 9 PM on weekdays, but on weekends, it opens at 9 AM for a brunch menu in addition to the full regular menu. We figured that would give us even more options to choose from, especially with my weird work hours that prevent us from going out to eat during the week. Luckily, there was plenty of parking and no wait shortly after 11 AM on a Saturday.

Once you arrive, you take a paper menu to study as you walk down a line where you can see those dazzling, decadent doughnuts on display, then the stations where the staff assembles barbecue bowls, sandwiches, and “boards” (really metal trays). My wife sat down at an open table while I took the walk toward an extremely patient woman who took our large order at the end of the line. It’s a familiar setup — you pay at the register, take a number, and then someone delivers your food to your table.

Before I reveal everything we ordered, here are the sauces diners will be able to choose from, since sauces are such an important part of the barbecue experience. They are all in squeeze bottles over by the self-serve soda fountain, and there are plenty of tiny plastic cups with lids to fill with the six sumptuous sauces. Over here you have toasted guajillo pepper, KC (Kansas City) sweet, spicy vinegar (it’s a North Carolina thing), and a marvelously thick hot sauce with visible spicy pepper seeds and a touch of sweetness.

Next to them, kept on ice, are Lowcountry SC (South Carolina) mustard sauce (kind of a creamy, herby, tangy mustard, not like bright yellow mustard or overly sweet honey mustard at all) and AL (Alabama) white barbecue sauce, which is creamy, tangy, and sweet. You KNOW I tried them all!

Here’s my sauce lineup. Before our food even arrived, as I was assembling our sauces, they brought us each a sample of a perfect, delicately seasoned, crunchy pork rind, which we both liked. Pork rinds can be heavenly or a pointless waste of calories, and the seasoning usually makes all the difference. But this one was very light, which was also nice.

My wife ordered a blueberry “MOCK-jito,” a delightful mocktail with fresh mint, lime, and fresh muddled blueberries. She said it was so refreshing, and it was one of the highlights of this epic brunch. I am so glad to see more restaurants offering interesting mocktails made with the same love and care as their alcoholic cocktails. Thank you, Smoke & Donuts!

It wasn’t long before our meals were walked out to the table. My wife and I each chose a Pit Sampler board, which comes with a choice of three meats and either one side and a piece of cornbread or a glazed doughnut (one of the more basic doughnuts, not the fancier ones). She chose pork belly (on the left; smoked and prepared in a sous vide water bath), pulled smoked chicken slathered in the Alabama white barbecue sauce, and sliced brisket for her meats. When I was given a choice of ordering her brisket lean or marbled, I chose marbled, which we both prefer. With steak, brisket, or pastrami, when in doubt, go for the marbling!

Instead of a side, she opted for a cinnamon sugar cake doughnut. Those pink strips are pickled red onions, something I love a lot (and make myself at home), but she has no interest in onions at all, or anything pickled. Needless to say, I got them for myself, along with the rest of the house-made pickles and pickled onions in the top right corner of her tray.

For my Pit Sampler board, I purposely chose three different things, knowing we would offer each other samples of ours anyway. I got chopped brisket (doused in TG sauce, the toasted guajillo pepper sauce), chorizo sausage, and St. Louis ribs (rubbed in “red chile and brown sugar slather”).
I chose baked beans for my side (see above), which included Kansas City sweet barbecue sauce, caramelized onions, sorghum, and stout. And you can see my cornbread up there too. But wanting us both to have a chance to try more sides, I also ordered a side sampler with three additional sides:

French fries, a necessity for dipping in the six different sauces:

Crunchy cucumber and cabbage slaw, shredded and tossed in a sherry and rice wine vinaigrette. I didn’t even try this until later, when we got home with multiple boxes of leftovers, but I liked it a lot. What a gourmet, nontraditional take on cole slaw. It was a bit dry, even with the vinaigrette, but a little Alabama white sauce perked it up.

Rich macaroni and cheese, featuring cheddar, Swiss, Chihuahua, and cotija cheeses and a little lager. This is definitely one of the best versions of mac and cheese in Orlando, and my far-and-away favorite of all the sides we sampled.

Here’s a close-up of my chopped brisket, which was good, although I think I would definitely opt for the sliced, marbled brisket in the future:

I had no idea how many ribs came in the sampler, but I have to be honest, I only expected one rib (making me think of Chris Rock in I’m Gonna Git You, Sucka, a movie I made my wife watch for the first time recently, still as funny as it was when it came out in 1988). Imagine my surprise when the guy delivered the trays to our table, and there were three ribs, although he told me he accidentally gave me an extra one. So normally you would get two in the Pit Sampler, and even that would have been great. The ribs were my favorite of the three meats I ordered, by far. They were so tender and smoky and sweet and spicy, easy to pull off the bone, but not exactly “falling off the bone” (barbecue mavens try to avoid that texture).

And from the brunch menu, my wife really wanted to try the biscuits that came with a trio of different flavors of soft, spreadable butter. It looks like they change these flavors all the time, but today we got mango, cilantro-jalapeño, and strawberry-basil butters. My wife really loved the two fruity ones, and I liked all three. The biscuits weren’t huge, but we also shared my cornbread and still had plenty of these rich, creamy, velvety butters left to bring home in the tiny plastic sauce cups. Thank goodness for the lids!

We were as interested in those stunning doughnuts as we were in the barbecue, so we ordered more to take home and parcel out over the next few days. On the left is a blonde blueberry doughnut we intended to share, with vanilla glaze, oat streusel, blueberry compote, and a chewy, buttery blueberry swirl blondie (the triangle “hat” on top, definitely a fascinator). In the middle is a red velvet doughnut my wife chose, with chocolate glaze, red velvet fudge, and a lightly crispy meringue on top, like a little beret sitting at a jaunty angle. On the right is a passion petal dancer, the most butch-sounding dessert name ever. I chose that one as soon as I saw it includes passion fruit cremeaux (I don’t even know how to pronounce that), lemon pavlova, and a dehydrated strawberry.

And this was one last doughnut for me, back at home: the key lime doughnut, with candied lemonade glaze, ginger snap streusel, key lime pavlova, and meringue. Good grief, this was so good. All the doughnuts from Smoke & Donuts BBQ are cake doughnuts, so they are really dense, heavy, and on the drier side, but not crumbly. If you’re craving the light airiness of yeasty Krispy Kreme doughnuts, then go to Krispy Kreme. But you’ll miss out on these lovely, luxurious, cakey creations.

We were lucky enough to meet Smoke & Donuts’ chef-owner Ian Russell, a graduate of the only CIA that makes the world a better place, the Culinary Institute of America. He worked as an actor (appearing in at least one local production with my wife when they were both a lot younger!) and some other interesting careers before founding Smoke & Donuts as a food truck. After building a reputation there, he then moved into the current space, directly next door to one of Orlando’s most famous and beloved restaurants, Se7en Bites. I was impressed that Chef Russell went around from table to table, introducing himself and asking his guests how everything was, and that’s when my wife recognized him from when they were in Cyrano together. Then the lady who had so patiently taken my large order introduced herself as his mother, and she stopped by to check up on us and kvell about her successful son.

I would be proud too. Chef Russell and his entire staff (including his mom) were wonderful. We felt very welcome and had a terrific brunch/early lunch that ended up being the only meal we needed for the rest of the day, with plenty of leftovers for the next couple of days. The ribs and mac and cheese were definitely my favorites of everything we tried, but I would return just for a big ol’ order of fries so I could use them as sauce delivery devices, the sauces were that good. People are intense (and intensely loyal) when it comes to barbecue. Orlando is lucky to have some good options (along with Briskets in Oviedo and Smokemade opening a permanent location soon), and Smoke & Donuts is definitely among the best. The Milk District has another winner, and since they have lasted over a year in this location, I’m sure they aren’t going anywhere. Come try them when you’re craving meat and sauce, and they even offer smoky jackfruit for vegetarians!

Chain Reactions: Superica

Superica (https://superica.com/) is an upscale Tex-Mex restaurant chain with twelve locations around the U.S., founded by chef and restauranteur Ford Fry. It opened its first Florida location in Winter Park last fall. I ate there for the first time in late January, with my wife and in-laws. The in-laws are sometimes hesitant to try new restaurants, but the lure of good Mexican or Tex-Mex food got them on board.

Back in January, Superica was offering a menu of six non-alcoholic drinks for “dry January,” although I don’t see why they can’t continue to offer them all year. My wife ordered the drink on the left, which tasted a bit like a cross between a margarita and a mojito. (It was also a whoppin’ $10, with no booze.) I ordered the “agua fresca del dia” on the right (for only $4), which was surprisingly sour and grapefruity. As usual, we shared sips of each other’s drinks, but this time we both liked each other’s drink better, so we traded.

Like any good Mexican or Tex-Mex restaurant, Superica brought fresh-fried tortilla chips to the table. These were outstanding chips — almost paper-thin, crispy, salty, and clearly very fresh, but not greasy at all. They were a huge hit at our table. I also loved the smoky red salsa on the right, which had a surprising level of heat for a table salsa (but still probably “medium” heat). My wife has zero interest in tomato salsas, but she dabbed at the green tomatillo-based salsa, which had a little too much heat for her.

My father-in-law ordered one of his favorite dishes at any Tex-Mex restaurant, a chile relleno. This crispy, batter-dipped and fried poblano pepper came smothered with red sauce and cheese and then baked. Inside, it was stuffed with Chihuahua cheese, corn, and mushrooms, which would have been a deal-breaker for me, but he seemed to love it.

My mother-in-law ordered enchiladas, but she is going through a phase where she doesn’t want any sauce or even cheese on things. I didn’t bother to take a picture, since they looked very plain, bland, and dry, and they probably were.

My wife got an order of three tacos de pescado, fried catfish tacos in corn tortillas that came topped with Mexican crema, cabbage slaw, and pink pickled onions. She was kind enough to have me scrape off the onions and slaw, because I always like that stuff, and she wants nothing to do with it. The “street style” tacos at Superica come with a side order of charro beans.She gave me one of her catfish tacos, and it was delicious. Actually, I thought it was better than any of the tacos I got.

It was our very sweet server Haley’s first day, so I was worried about stumping her when I asked if you could mix and match the different street style tacos. But she very kindly informed me that yes, I could do that — I wouldn’t be limited to three of the same kind. So I got three completely different street style tacos:

One taco de barbacoa (top), with slow-cooked brisket, pasilla Oaxaca, avocado, onions, and cilantro.
One taco al pastor (center), with crispy pork belly, achiote, grilled pineapple, and pico de gallo.
One taco de camarones (bottom), with Gulf shrimp, “scampi butter,” cabbage slaw, morita chile mayo, and what the website menu referred to as “cheesy tortillas.” I don’t remember if the tortilla was grilled to form a cheese crust, but maybe it was.

Here’s another view of my three tacos. Were they pretty? Yes. Were they tasty? Sure. Were they expensive? Absolutely.

And speaking of dough, this was our shared dessert order of bunuelos, two discs of fried dough drizzled with honey, rather than the traditional cinnamon sugar. My mother-in-law wanted sopapillas, and this was the closest thing on the menu.

And that’s why I’m telling you that Superica is a nice restaurant to go to with your in-laws, but there are a lot better AND cheaper Mexican and even Tex-Mex restaurants throughout Orlando, from hipster taquerias to legit dives, shacks, trailers, and trucks serving food that is just as good (or better), just as authentic (or moreso), where you can get a lot more tortillas for a lot less dough.

We didn’t have a bad time or bad food at Superica, don’t get me wrong. The decor is really nice, and it has a festive atmosphere as well as a second-story dining level, in case you want an elevated view of a suburban/commercial stretch of State Road 17-92. But as cynical as I am in real life, I try to avoid it on this blog. Even though I might not rush back to Superica, I sure am glad I tried it, and YOU, dear reader, might just love it… especially if you are hanging out with your parents or in-laws.

Philippe the Original (Los Angeles)

On my second trip to Los Angeles for work, I caught a Lyft ride at the airport and went straight to another famous, historic L.A. restaurant, luggage and all, before even checking in at my hotel or reporting to work. I had done my research like any good librarian, so I planned to go to Philippe the Original (https://www.philippes.com/), the inventors of the French dipped sandwich. Founded in 1908, Philippe the Original has probably changed very little over the decades. The prices have surely gone up in the past century and change, but not nearly as much as you would think.

You order and pay at the counter, and then the very patient servers assemble you a tray, cafeteria-style, while doubling as cashiers. I miss cafeteria-style restaurants. We went to a bunch when I was a kid, from Morrison’s in the mall to the old K-Mart cafeteria, but you don’t see this much anymore, aside from some casual Latin restaurants like Orlando’s Lechonera El Barrio. Philippe the Original also has a diner feel to it, since it also serves breakfast (and Los Angeles is a big diner city). But I was not here for breakfast, dear readers. Oh no, I was a man with a shopping list. With an agenda, even.

The main draw is the French-dipped sandwiches, which come on a delicious French roll. You can also get them on white, wheat, rye, or sourdough bread, but please don’t do this. You can get the sandwiches single-dipped, double-dipped, or “wet” in au jus, so I opted for a single dip as a first-timer, with an extra ramekin of jus on the side for this Jew. You can choose between sliced beef, pork, lamb, New York pastrami, ham, or turkey, and even though I’m sure you can’t go wrong with any of those, I had a hard time choosing. I asked, fully expecting to be told no, if I could get two kinds of meat on my sandwich, and the nice lady said of course! I couldn’t get half the roll with one and the other half with the other meat, but I could definitely get two different meats stacked upon each other. Now we were talking! I asked what she recommended, and she said of the six, she would narrow it down to beef, lamb, and pastrami. Now, I already had plans to meet friends at one of L.A.’s most iconic deli institutions, so I figured I would save the pastrami for that later meal. Beef and lamb for the win! I also added on bleu cheese, which pairs so well with red meat, but rarely makes an appearance in sandwiches and even less often as a thick slice. It got surprisingly melty on there, between the warm roll, hot meat, and hot jus. You can see the light brown lines in the cross-section of this roll above the cheese, and that is where they dipped the roll in the jus. This was a huge, thick, hearty sandwich. The beef and lamb were both very tender, but I preferred whichever one was sliced thinner (the beef, I think, which surprised me, since I always gravitate toward lamb when it is an option). That purpley-pink thing in the corner was a pickled egg, one of many accoutrements I ordered with my two-meat sandwich, fished out of a big jar on the counter. I couldn’t resist! It was so vinegary and tangy and good. I love pickled eggs, but never thought to employ beet juice when I make my own at home. Now I know… and knowing is half the battle!

Believe it or not, Los Angeles is a big chili city. Angelenos love putting chili on hot dogs and burgers and serving it in diners, so I figured the meat-centric Philippe the Original would serve a good cup of chili. They did. Like everything else, it was pretty classic — no frills, not fancy, just mildly spicy, and of course they knew better than to add beans. If you imagine a cup of chili from a diner, you’ve got it. It might not win any awards in the Terlingua Chili Cookoff, but this is quintessential L.A. chili. And to me, that makes it quintessential American chili.

Like any classic diner or cafeteria, Philippe the Original also had a refrigerated glass case full of tempting pies, cakes, baked apples (talk about old-school!), and prepared salads: cole slaw, macaroni and potato salad. As much as I would have loved to try all three of those, I was already going a little wild.

I chose the macaroni salad, which normally edges out potato salad for me, and I chose wisely. It was a simple, mayo-based macaroni salad with a slight crunch from celery (or green bell pepper?) and a tangy sweetness. It reminded me of a macaroni salad you would get at a mid-century lunch counter, maybe in a drugstore or even a department store. I miss those places too, and they were already 99% phased out by the time I was a kid in the ’80s.

Each table had a squeeze bottle of a relatively thin, horseradish-heavy hot mustard, that I applied to my wonderful beef, lamb, and bleu cheese sandwich after taking a few unadorned bites as a control. It was an excellent mustard that complemented the rich, salty, juicy sandwich perfectly. I noticed they sell it in bottles, but as much as I would have loved to bring one home, I do not check bags, and I knew TSA would confiscate it. Regular readers know my obsession with mustards and other condiments (such as my Cutting the Mustard reviews), but at least I got to try it in the restaurant.

Also, I got the most delightful little glass of lemonade for something like 95 cents. When I saw the price, I didn’t know how big the glass would be, but it was wee. I guess this is like portion sizes were like back in the day, before Big Gulps and whatnot. Really refreshing lemonade, though, especially after all that salty food and waking up at 4 AM for a flight.

I might have looked like a big weirdo, wheeling my roll-aboard bag through Philippe the Original, but I knew it would have to be my first stop in L.A. or I wouldn’t be able to make it back later. I’m so glad I did, because it was truly awesome. It lived up to all the hype I had read online, to say nothing of passing mentions and sightings in L.A.-based TV shows like Bosch. I love these historic restaurants that have been doing the same thing for decades, sometimes lasting a century or more, because they are that damn good. Los Angeles is full of them, and I look forward to exploring more on future work trips (and eventually getting around to reviewing everything from this last visit). If you appreciate a good French dip sandwich, try to make a pilgrimage to the creator some day. The originator, the O.G. — Philippe the Original.