Sandwiches – Page 11 – The Saboscrivner

CLOSED: Big Time Street Food

NOTE: Big Time Street Food closed in May 2020, just months after I wrote this review.

Big Time Street Food (https://www.bigtimestreetfood.co/) was on my list of newer places to try for the longest time. Located in hip and pretty Thornton Park, near downtown Orlando, it is connected to Burton’s Bar and even shares a door with the neighborhood watering hole. But I emphasize neighborhood, because both places really are meant for residents of the immediate neighborhood due to a major lack of nearby parking spaces. Over the last year or so, I’ve done several “drive-bys” of Big Time Street Food, hoping to find a nearby parking space so I could finally try the food, to no avail.

But back in early January, I had a chance to see hip-hop legend KRS-One perform at The Abbey, a downtown concert and event venue located a few blocks away from Big Time. I made sure to park in a convenient garage located between the two and headed to Big Time first, to eat a giant, heavy meal before a long and late concert. (I’ve been to hundreds of concerts and totally know better, but this was my best chance to finally make it here, Saboscrivenerinos. You’re welcome!)

Big Time Street Food is a very small and casual space. You order at the counter and can then sit on one of the few stools at a counter, or go next door to Burton’s, and they bring you your order when it’s ready. I studied the menu in advance, but couldn’t decide between two things. My Constant Readers can take a wild guess as to what I did next — yes, I ordered both!

This is the Holy Chicken sandwich ($7.99). You’re staring at an extra large, fresh-fried chicken thigh, a generous amount of dill pickle slices (after a long quest, I finally like most pickles!), and lightly spicy “gochu-mayo” on a soft, lightly-griddled sweet potato roll. It’s like an artisanal version of the beloved Popeyes spicy chicken sandwich, and yes, it’s better.

Despite knowing I was going to have to stand in the same place for several hours, and despite knowing how gross club restrooms can be (especially when you’re in desperate need of one), I couldn’t stop myself from also ordering the Chorizo Montoya burger ($7.99). This beauty contains a “smash burger” patty, chorizo sausage, oaxaca cheese, avocado, grilled onion, roasted tomato aioli on the same soft, lightly griddled bun. It was a damn fine burger I’d rank alongside Orlando’s finest.

Believe it or not, I had every intention of eating half of the chicken sandwich and half of the burger, and putting the other halves back in my car, because luckily it was a cool evening. But in true Saboscrivner fashion, I devoured both while they were at their hottest and freshest. I have no regrets now, and luckily I didn’t have any regrets during the concert either.

It ended up being a really fun night. I arrived early enough to get right up next to the stage to see several opening rappers, followed by the trailblazing teacher KRS-One, who exploded out of the Bronx in the late ’80s as the star of Boogie Down Productions, before becoming a vaunted solo MC throughout the ’90s. I suspect many Saboscrivnerinos might recognize KRS-One from the closing rap verse on REM’s “Radio Song,” the first track off their 1991 album Out of Time, or maybe as the subject of Sublime’s respectful tribute to the master himself, “KRS-One.” A socially-conscious, spiritual, and political rapper, he concerned himself with educating and empowering his listeners, spitting cautionary tales that warn against crime, violence, and police brutality. I highly recommend the compilation album A Retrospective as the perfect gateway to his finest work. And I’m thrilled to report he is still teaching lessons today (when we need his voice more than ever), without slowing down or missing a beat.

And after wolfing down two delicious sandwiches from Big Time Street Food directly before the show, I was relieved to not have miss a beat either.

Tibby’s New Orleans Kitchen

I was lucky enough to go to New Orleans four times between 1998 and 2001, with different groups of friends every time. Back then, as a young guy in college, I never had much money, but I sure liked good food, good music, history, architecture, culture, adventure, and romance, so New Orleans was the perfect destination for all of those things. (Never did find any romance there, though.) I played an unforgettable gig with my old band once, went to an epic bachelor party with a bunch of my closest friends in the world (and we were all on remarkably good behavior, believe it or not), and even descended on Mardi Gras one time, which was actually too crazy, crowded, and chaotic to be as much fun as it should have been. New Orleans is a legendary party town pretty much any weekend, but even as a senior in college, I thought Mardi Gras was just too much.

Obviously the city has changed a lot over the last 19 years, and especially since Hurricane Katrina devastated it in 2005. I’d love to make it back to see how the city has bounced back and been revitalized, but have no idea when and if that’ll happen. But in the meantime, when I crave the food of New Orleans — Cajun and Creole cuisine — we have a very good option right here in Orlando: Tibby’s New Orleans Kitchen (https://tibbys.com/), a locally-owned restaurant with locations in Winter Park and Altamonte Springs. On my most recent visit, I went with two former co-workers who I grew very close to during my first years at my job. Those were some tough times then, and we all found strength in numbers and looked out for each other. We were long overdue to get together and catch up, so in true Sabsocrivner fashion, I sent them a list of multiple restaurants where we could have a leisurely lunch and hang out for a while, without feeling crowded or rushed. I was relieved and excited when they chose Tibby’s, since I hadn’t been in a few years.

In fact, the last time I had been to Tibby’s was long before I started this food blog, so I realized I had never ordered the onion rings before. That’s right, they offer onion rings as an appetizer ($6.50), which means I had to try them for a little recurring onion ring review feature I like to call RING THE ALARM!

[AIR HORN!]

This was a generous order of thick onion rings (or thicc, as the kids say), with a nice texture from their light, crispy breading. They came with an excellent remoulade sauce for dipping, one of the best condiments to accompany onion rings at any local restaurant. These rings seemed particularly salty, but I still liked them a lot.

My wife and I are huge fans of a wonderful, hilarious comedian named Tig Notaro, who had a short-lived and much-missed show on Amazon Prime called One Mississippi. The theme song was “Jambalaya (On the Bayou),” which I only recently found out was written by the legendary, prolific songwriter and country music legend Hank Williams back in 1952. That song always makes me hungry due to the lyric “Jambalaya, crawfish pie, filé gumbo.” (I have a real soft spot for songs about food in general, and there aren’t enough of them.) So when I saw Tibby’s sampler consists of jambalaya, crawfish pie, and filé gumbo ($14.25), I knew it was meant to be.

The jambalaya rice, stewed in a mildly spicy tomato sauce with onions, bell peppers, celery, andouille sausage, and tasso ham, is a classic dish I always love. In college, I ate a lot of Zatarain’s jambalaya made from a box of rice with dehydrated vegetables and salty seasonings, and I’d mix in cheap sausage, chicken, canned sardines, you name it, plus any vegetables I could afford to stretch it out. Even that was tasty back in the day, but real jambalaya with quality ingredients is a delicious meal. The crawfish pie was essentially a crawfish empanada with tail meat in a crispy fried pastry shell. The filé gumbo was on the salty side, but still very tasty, made with chicken and sausage. Filé powder is made from grinding dried sassafras leaves, and it is used as a thickener for the hearty stew and other Creole dishes. The other primary gumbo recipe uses okra to thicken the stew instead.

My one friend ordered shrimp Creole ($12.25), a tomato-based stew with a little island of rice in the middle. She seemed to love it.

My other friend wanted fried shrimp and fried oysters, but not necessarily in a po’boy. Our server was very accommodating, and allowed her to order side orders of both ($12 for the oysters, $6 for the shrimp). I tried one of her fried oysters, and it was delicious… but it’s really hard to go wrong with fried oysters.

She also ordered the sweet potato fries for us to share ($4), and they were a treat — salty and sweet at the same time.

We couldn’t leave without a plate of beignets for dessert ($4.25). These crispy-on-the-outside, soft and flaky-on-the-inside fried pastries are a New Orleans specialty. I’ve had them at the legendary Cafe Du Monde, and nothing really equals that experience of sitting outside, listening to street musicians play incredible jazz and people-watching in the French Quarter… but Tibby’s beignets come close.

I’m really hoping to return to New Orleans for my profession’s big conference this summer, 19 years after my last visit. It’s staggering to think of everything that city has endured in the meantime, especially the destruction of Hurricane Katrina and its aftermath. But it’s an incredible place, like nowhere else in America, with some of the greatest food in the country. If you can’t make it, Tibby’s is like a little piece of the Big Easy right here in Winter Park. You should go there and laissez les bon temps rouler, especially as we celebrate Mardi Gras this coming Tuesday!

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!

I got restaurant reviews in the Orlando Weekly again!

For the third year in a row, I was honored to submit some of my favorite dishes of the year to the Orlando Weekly, which got published in its final issue of 2019:

https://www.orlandoweekly.com/orlando/the-eight-best-orlando-dishes-of-2019/Content?oid=26523651

It was an even bigger honor for my picks to be mixed in with favorites of the Orlando Weekly’s regular food writer Faiyaz Kara, who is my favorite food writer in Orlando, period. They didn’t credit who wrote which ones, but I had three contributions, all from longer reviews I wrote on The Saboscrivner this year:

The Nashville hot chicken sandwiches from Swine & Sons.
The paccheri amatriciana pasta from Sette.
The pork sisig over garlic rice from Taglish.

This means the world to me, to see that some people have actually responded to my food writing, enough so that I can even reach beyond this blog. I especially want to thank the Orlando Weekly‘s tireless Editor, Jessica Bryce Young, for offering me these opportunities.

And here are links to my favorite dishes from 2018 and 2017, also published in the Orlando Weekly.

Lechonera El Barrio

Maybe the best lunch value to be found in the Orlando area is at Lechonera El Barrio (https://www.facebook.com/Lechonera-El-Barrio-Restaurant-1519366968315699/), a small, modest cafeteria on Semoran Boulevard, located at 435 North Semoran, on the east side, between East Colonial Drive and State Road 408. They serve huge, hearty, heaping helpings of heavy Puerto Rican, Dominican, and Cuban food at extremely low prices — perfect to pop into for a quick lunch to go, that can usually be turned into two or even three meals. There are a few tables there, but I’ve never lingered. It’s so close to work, I’m usually in and out, often picking up additional food for other co-workers to turn them into enduring fans of the place. Even President Obama ate there, during a visit to Orlando for his 2012 campaign, and there is a photo on the wall to prove it, alongside several other (much) lower-profile celebrity guests.

Whether you’re eating in or taking out, food is served in styrofoam to-go boxes, with a medium costing $5 or a large costing $8. I usually spring for the large, just because the leftovers heat up well, and I know my leftovers will never go to waste. I never understand people who let their leftovers rot in our tiny break room fridge at work, or worse yet, “forget about them” at home. To me, ignoring your restaurant leftovers is the equivalent of having a night of steamy romance and passion with a very hot partner of your preferred gender, but losing all interest in seeing them again for another tryst the following day. WHY WOULD ANYONE DO THAT? But I digress.

First, you start out choosing your rice for the foundation of your giant food box: white (which is always more tender, fluffy, and buttery than the white rice I make at home in a rice cooker), yellow (even more buttery) with gandules (pigeon peas), or moros (white rice mixed with black beans; you’ll never be morose if you try it).

I always try to time my rare visits for Fridays, because I know that’s when they’ll serve paella-style yellow rice mixed with seafood — bits of fish, shrimp with tails on, and even small bay scallops and mussels still in the shell, all stewed together with red bell peppers and peas. That’s what I always go for. Pardon the blurriness of this photo, taken through glass.

Then you can choose black or red beans, and while I like black beans (good Miami boy that I am), I almost always choose red beans, because they were never an option at the Cuban restaurants I grew up going to, and I like them even more. I usually opt for my beans on the side in a separate container, even though I often pour them over my rice once I reach my final destination (usually our sad little break room at work, although I guess I made it sound more ominous than that). You choose an entree after that, and then a side, which may include boiled yucca, tostones (crispy fried slices of unripe plantains), or maduros (sweet and sticky fried ripe plantains, one of my favorite foods in the world).

Entree choices include quartered or halved roasted rotisserie chickens marinated in garlicky mojo criollo, pernil (tender roast pork, often with delicious crispy bits of skin attached), pepper steak, costillas (ribs), and different stewed beef, chicken, pork, and even fish dishes. Most people I know opt for white meat chicken, which occasionally disappoints due to sitting out a little too long and being dry. I have much better luck with dark meat, but I rarely order the chicken here. Pernil pork is almost always awesome, and I always ask (in my best awful Spanish) for pieces of that crispy skin. I think once they had rabos (stewed oxtails), and I was in heaven, because I always love oxtail, whether it’s in Jamaican, Latin, or Asian recipes.

But on my most recent visit, I was craving pastelon, a dish that’s kind of like Puerto Rican lasagna: layers of sweet plantains and seasoned ground beef, topped with a bechamel sauce and white cheese (mozzarella?), then baked into a casserole and served in large slices the size of Rubik’s cubes. I got my pastelon with a large order of seafood paella rice, red beans on the side, and maduros, so I ended up with plantains and more plantains, and definitely engaged in some carb-loading. It was a ton of delicious food for only $8.

Because I try to be a stand-up guy, on my way out the door, I asked three co-workers if they wanted anything, and two actually did. Someone wanted a Cuban sandwich, which I was pleased to see they used the fresh pernil pork in, before pressing it on a sandwich press with the usual ham, Swiss cheese, mustard, and pickles. It was a nice-sized sandwich for only $5, and I guarantee the pork was a lot fresher and higher-quality than it would be at lots of places that specialize in Cubanos.

My other colleague asked for “mofongo and chicken,” and I failed to press for additional details, in my haste. The mofongo — a mountain of mashed plantains mixed up with bits of chicharrones (pork fat and skin), garlic, and other seasonings — was prepared to order, so that took about ten minutes. They served it with what looked like a quarter of the rotisserie chicken, most likely white meat, and only charged $6 for all of that! I will now admit I’ve only ever had mofongo once, at a different restaurant, and wasn’t blown away.

But our Friday only improved from there, because when I brought our food back to work, we did what I always hope my dining companions will want to do — we shared everything. I got to sample the super-solid Cuban sandwich as well as the mofongo, which was much better from Lechonera El Barrio, helped immensely by pungent, vinegary, almost creamy, ridiculously good garlic sauce. My one colleague who requested the mofongo joked that it’s pretty much an excuse to eat the garlic sauce, and I can totally see where she’s coming from with that. Make sure you ask for it. I’m going to request it from now on, even if I don’t order mofongo! I also shared my pastelon, which seemed to go over well, and both ladies were brave enough to sample the morcilla sausage I asked for on the side, and seemed to like that too.

Morcilla is rich and savory blood sausage with a nice crispy casing and an interesting — but not unpleasant — gritty-but-soft texture. Here it is in my little sampler with mofongo and part of the Cuban sandwich:

Some foodies joke that they don’t always want to share their favorite spots because then everyone will go to them, but as a librarian, a nerd, and your friendly neighborhood Saboscrivner, I’m all about sharing information — and also sharing the love. This is a small, locally-owned business you may have driven by dozens or hundreds of times and never thought to stop there. You may be intimidated to go there if you don’t speak much Spanish. (My Spanish is laughably bad, but I understand it much better than I can speak it, and I’m always able to end up with what I want by pointing, smiling, and nodding, when all else fails.) They don’t even have a website or a menu online. But Lechonera El Barrio is another one of those hidden treasures in Orlando. It is not upscale, romantic, or hipster-cool. It isn’t deconstructing, reinventing, or challenging cuisine. It’s a cafeteria, and a very good one at that. What it lacks in ambience, it more than makes up for in value, quantity, and quality. This is simple, tasty food, and you get so much of it. Plus, you can be out the door quickly with enough food for two or three meals, for under $10. That is a rare and wonderful thing.

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.

CLOSED: Paradiso Restaurant and Pizzeria

EDIT: I don’t remember exactly when Paradiso Restaurant and Pizzeria closed, but it was two or three years ago.

***

I’ve started going to a new pizzeria recently — or at least a new one for me. I found out Paradiso Restaurant and Pizzeria (https://paradisorestaurantandpizzeria.com/) had been open for four years, and I had been driving past it almost every day, on Semoran Boulevard north of Colonial Drive. (There is another, unrelated Paradiso somewhere else, but this is definitely the one at 1502 North Semoran, with the phone number 407-745-4226.) It’s very close to where I work, and I’m glad to say it’s great. I’ve been three times in the last two months, and will certainly keep returning and help spread the word. If you crave large, thin, crispy, melty, gooey slices of New York-style pizza, Paradiso serves one of the best versions in Orlando.

I brought home takeout on my first visit, and I couldn’t wait to get some of those slices ($2.25 each) back to share with my wife. A lot of the time, pizza is never the same once you get it back home, because it steams in the box and loses that crispiness. Not so with these beauties. I always like ordering a few slices because the two of us definitely can’t finish a whole large pizza in one sitting, and it’s never as good the next day, even after a trip through the toaster oven. The slices were fantastic. Definitely one of the best examples of New York pizza in the city.

I had to try Paradiso’s Sicilian pizza as well, since that is a lifelong favorite of mine, and far too rare. These slices ($2.99 each) were crispy too, but they didn’t have the doughy softness I look for, in combination with the crispiness. Don’t get me wrong — I enjoyed these immensely, but I still give Pizzeria Del Dio the edge for best Sicilian pizza in Orlando.

This was a deluxe stromboli, with pepperoni, sausage, onions, and cheese — hold the mushrooms for me. This was the small ($8.99), and it was still huge. My wife surprised me by loving it, and what’s not to love? Apologies for not photographing a cross-section of it.

On my most recent visit, I brought home the same stromboli, but a large ($16.99), which I carved a piece out of before remembering to photograph it. That’s diagonal through a box made for 20″ extra-large pizzas, keep in mind.

Excellent garlic knots ($3.99) that were soft and fluffy, not dense and hard like baseballs. You get a nice-sized order for the price, and they don’t skimp on the garlic:

At one point, I convinced a co-worker to order Paradiso with me on a workday, and I picked it up and brought it back to the office. My co-worker ordered a cheese calzone for her dinner that night (I’m assuming this is the small for $7.99):

And for her lunch, a 10″ white pizza with ricotta, mozzarella, and parmesan cheeses and garlic ($9.99) with mushrooms and black olives added ($1.25 each). She is from New Jersey, so she has high standards for pizza that are hard to meet around here. I got her into Del Dio, as one of the best local pizzerias that New York and New Jersey transplants appreciate, and I believe she liked this as well.

I couldn’t go without getting another perfect slice for myself:

But I also decided to try a 12″ chicken parmesan sub ($7.99). This thing was a BEAST! It was huge, and I could barely eat half at work. I asked them to add onions and peppers, which was a good call. It was fine, but the chicken breast was a little dry, and I probably would have been happier with a meatball parm or sausage, onions, and peppers sub instead, or a cold Italian hoagie. But don’t get me wrong, I had the whole thing eaten by the next day.

And there was indeed a next time! On my third and most recent visit, I got the meatball sub ($7.99) with onions and peppers, and I liked it as much as I expected to. More, even!

Also, it has been a while, but I have to RING THE ALARM! for Paradiso Restaurant and Pizzeria, because they have really good onion rings ($3.99). These are the kind I’m always searching for, with a beer-battered coating. They are very similar to the onion rings at Pizzeria Del Dio, in fact. It might not be the most obvious choice to order onion rings at a pizzeria, but I love the rings at both places. That’s ketchup in the little cup, though — not marinara sauce. Mental note: next time, ask for marinara sauce too. Just don’t dip my sub or pizza crust in the ketchup, because that would be nasty.

Believe it or not, I don’t eat pizza a lot. Seriously! But we have so many wonderful locally-owned pizzerias that I don’t see any point to ordering from the big national chains and wasting calories and carbs on mediocre, depressing, mass-produced pizza. I know I’ve compared Paradiso to Del Dio more than once in this review, but it’s a blessing that we have two outstanding New York-style pizzerias in the same part of Orlando, and so close to where I work. If you like Del Dio, I implore you to try Paradiso too. I don’t think you’ll be sorry. I just wish I had tried them sooner, but better late than never.

CLOSED: Taglish

EDITOR’S NOTE: Taglish closed its Lotte Plaza Market and East Orlando locations in late October, 2022. Its final location in Sanford closed December 31st, 2022.

***

Taglish (https://www.taglishfl.com/) just soft-opened a few weeks ago, and it quickly became one of my favorite restaurants in Orlando. “Taglish” is clever shorthand for Tagalog, the main language of the Philippines, and English, and the name fits perfectly, because Chef Michael Collantes envisioned it as a Filipino-American fusion restaurant.

Located in the small-but-bustling food court of one of my new favorite foodie destinations in Orlando, Lotte Plaza Market on West Colonial Drive and John Young Parkway in West Orlando, Taglish has filled a void that many of us didn’t even realize was there — an introduction (for many foodies) to the delicious flavors and textures of Filipino food. Filipino restaurants are still rare in most parts of the country, especially here. But since Taglish announced its soft opening, I’ve been twice so far, a week apart, and I fantasized about returning that whole week in between. On my first visit, knowing Taglish opened at 11 AM and wanting to beat the rush, I arrived around 11:15 and barely had to wait in line at all.

The first thing you might notice upon lining up are the four drinks served in “bubblers”: ube horchata, strawberry hibiscus, cucumber pear, and mango calamansi lemonade. (The lady in front of me in line moved a bag at the exact wrong moment to cover that last sign, but trust me.) Drinks are $2.70, except for the ube horchata, which is $3.95. But you can always make any meal into a combo for $4, which includes a drink (plus a nominal upcharge if you want the ube horchata, which you probably will).

On my first visit, I chose the ube horchata. Ube is a purple yam that is popular in Filipino desserts, and horchata is one of my favorite drinks to order with Mexican food: a rice milk often flavored with cinnamon and vanilla, perfect for cutting the heat of spicy dishes. It was thick and rich and sweet, but not overwhelmingly sweet. Having no experience tasting ube before, it reminded me of the vanilla-scented taro milk tea my wife always orders at Vietnamese restaurants and Asian tea shops, right down to the similar shade of lavender.

Although the dish I ordered wasn’t spicy at all, it was one of the tastiest, most satisfying meals I’ve eaten anywhere, in a long, long time. I asked Barbara, the extraordinarily friendly and welcoming cashier, what she recommended, because everything sounded interesting, and she recommended I try the sisig ($9.50) — a dish of crispy pork pan-seared in garlic, tomato, onion, and jalapeno, served over rice (I opted for garlic rice instead of the regular white rice), topped with a poached egg and a drizzle of garlic mayo. I made it into a combo for an additional $4, to include the above drink and two lumpia, crispy pork-stuffed spring rolls served with sweet chili sauce for dipping (just out of frame).

Constant readers, I can’t sing the praises of this sisig dish nearly enough, or in enough detail to honor the fictional definition of the term Saboscrivner. It exceeded my every expectation in the best possible way. I splashed on a bit of spicy vinegar from a glass bottle in a small condiment area next to the cash register, and that spicy sourness just brought out all the strong, rich flavors even more. The perfectly poached egg ran richly over everything, and the bits of tomato, onion, jalapeno, and garlic added the slightest spice. I would eat this dish every week if I could. I felt like I was floating afterwards, and I surely bored my wife and a few acquaintances raving about it for days after the fact. I even e-mailed Chef Collantes to gush about how much I enjoyed it, and he was kind enough to take time out of his busy schedule to write me back.

By the way, you give them your phone number when you place your order, and they text you to come pick up your food on a tray when it’s ready. This could get precarious later in the day when every seat in the food court is taken, so I encourage you to arrive with friends, or make some once you get there!

Well, after that auspicious first visit, I returned a week later, on another Saturday. Unfortunately I got to Lotte Plaza Market around 1:30 PM that second visit, so there was already a long line at Taglish — great for them, and only the most minor of annoyances for me. But good word has been spreading, and I only hope to spread it further.

Barbara even remembered me from the previous week, and I remembered her second-place recommendation from when she suggested the sisig. As much as I loved it, I had to try something new, for the sake of the Saboscrivner’s subscribers. So I ordered the chicken adobo burrito ($8.95) — a thick burrito stuffed to the bursting point with classic Filipino dish chicken adobo (also served as a bowl over rice), garlic rice, fried potatoes, and stewed mung beans, wrapped in a large flour tortilla and almost defying the laws of physics. It was outstanding! So many flavors, textures, and even colors to appreciate and explore.

This was a perfect example of a fusion dish, and I loved it. My only regret is very minor — I might have been able to analyze each component better and savor the ingredients if I had ordered this as a bowl over rice, instead of wrapped in the lightly grilled tortilla. For example, I’ve never had monggo (stewed mung beans) before, and I still can’t really describe it, since it melded together with everything else in the burrito. But it was all fantastic!

But as long as I was there, I had to try something else that has always caught my eye on the menu: the longaniza burger. Longaniza is a Filipino pork sausage that is a little bit sweet, often eaten as a breakfast meat (if I’m not mistaken). Here, the homemade longaniza sausage was crafted into a burger patty and served on a soft, buttered, grilled bun (possibly a King’s Hawaiian roll), topped with a slice of grilled pineapple, garlic mayo, and a salad of sweet, tangy, vinegary, pickled, shredded papaya called atchara, which I loved. Note the two included lumpia and the serving of crispy seasoned potatoes, which stayed warm and crispy throughout my meal. I got another small cup of sweet chili sauce, but next time I will request banana ketchup for the fried potatoes, just because I love dipping sauces and condiments — especially new and unfamiliar ones.

Close-up on the slaw-like atchara, which I would love to buy a jar of and put on everything. I really like vinegar, and I am drawn to Filipino cuisine because vinegar is such a common and important ingredient. Also dig that wonderful grilled, buttered bun. I wish everyone who served burgers, dogs, and sandwiches would take a lesson from this.

A cross-section. The slight crispiness of the atchara really balanced out the softer ingredients (the bun, grilled sausage patty, and pineapple slice).

On this second visit, I paid $4 for the combo again (dig the lumpia above), and tried the refreshingly tart mango calamansi lemonade. Calamansi, also known as the Philippine lime, is a small citrus fruit used in a lot of Filipino recipes. I had never tasted it before, but my research tells me it’s a hybrid of the kumquat and mandarin orange. Plus, I already love mangoes in anything, and I’ll always drink lemonade when it’s an option.

This time, I was lucky enough to meet the amiable Chef Collantes, shake his hand, and tell him in person how wonderful his food is, and how friendly, patient, and helpful his staff is. He is the former Culinary Director of Bento, a small, local chain of pan-Asian restaurants I have been a big fan of since the first one opened in Gainesville in 2003, the last year I lived there. I’ve eaten countless custom poke bowls, sushi rolls, bento boxes, and udon noodles at Bento’s numerous Orlando locations — even on my wedding day, ten years ago — but this reminded me to make it back there soon to write a Saboscrivner review. The fact that Chef Collantes might have created some of my favorite dishes at Bento before opening Taglish (and subsequently blowing my mind with that sisig) makes all the sense in the world.

I wish him and his staff the best of all things, but they already have a huge hit on their hands. For many, Filipino food will be unfamiliar and novel, but even though people will come in to try something new and different, I’m convinced they will get hooked and become regulars, like I hope to be.

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!