Cafe Patachou - Sandwich 12!

See how this all started here: http://bkatranch.blogspot.com/2012/01/bc-and-kathies-excellent-adventure-to.html

We were looking for a nice Sunday morning brunch type location and I thought, “let’s check the list!” and lo and behold, there was Café Patachou! I must admit Café Patachou did not really excite me when I first noticed it on the list. I have always seen the Café as a little “snobby” for my tastes. Come on, their motto is “a student union for adults since 1989”. Great hanging out in a student union with a bunch of yuppies who wish they were back in the real student union at I.U. In writing this, I realize that there may be some readers that do not know the term – YUPPIE. It was pretty common in my youth to hear the term YUPPIE and it stands for Young Urban Professional. I stumbled across a quote from political commentator Victor Davis Hanson which sums up Yuppism perfectly.

“Yuppism... is not definable entirely by income or class. Rather, it is a late-20th-century cultural phenomenon of self-absorbed young professionals, earning good pay, enjoying the cultural attractions of sophisticated urban life and thought, and generally out of touch with, indeed antithetical to, most of the challenges and concerns of a far less well-off and more parochial Middle America. For the yuppie male a well-paying job in law, finance, academia, or consulting in a cultural hub, hip fashion, cool appearance, studied poise, elite education, proper recreation and fitness, and general proximity to liberal-thinking elites, especially of the more rarefied sort in the arts, are the mark of a real man.”

After reading the description from the list I was torn between my dislike of yuppies and my love of egg sandwiches. The Super 46 states:

Step 1: Cut it straight down the middle, piercing the two yolks so yellow oozes out onto the plate. Step 2: Dig in! Sandwich ingredients don’t get much more straightforward than eggs between toast with the addition of bacon, avocado, ham or salmon. But the combined flavors and the unique architecture of the sandwich almost guarantee a completely wiped-clean plate.

I grabbed my Ralph Lauren Argyle sweater vest, you know, to blend in, and we headed to the North Pennsylvania location for sandwich number 12.

The place was packed, as is normal for a Sunday morning. Looking around at the crowd my assessment turned to be spot on. There were current yuppies, former yuppies, and a few that wished they were yuppies but missing the mark. The café itself was perfect, the design, the white linens, the waiter attire, everything about it seemed to match the clientele and the reputation. Café Patachou is known for perfection regardless if it is in the food, presentation, or atmosphere. I think they are probably one of the most awarded restaurants on the list. We both ordered the sandwich from the list.

When our order arrived, the first thing I noticed was the eggs. Nice bright whites and thick. The eggs sitting on top of my fresh baked sour dough roll were fresh. I know eggs. I raise free range happy chickens that make some of the best eggs in Indiana. I later found out that they do indeed use fresh eggs. In fact, they use eggs that are hatched in Indiana and less than three days old. The bacon for my sandwich was also from an Indiana producer. Local sourced fresh ingredients prepared simply but well. Man if we could just do something about all the yuppies…

“Eins Zwei Drei SUFFA!” - Kathies trip to the Rathskeller...(Sandwich #11!)

See how this all started here:    http://bkatranch.blogspot.com/2012/01/bc-and-kathies-excellent-adventure-to.html

When I saw the Rathskeller on the super 46 list with their Frikadelle sandwich I just knew I (Kathie) would be writing this blog instead of B.C. He could write about the sandwich, sure, but he has nothing else to offer about this place. Where as I do. I am connected to this magnificent and magical building by the very core of my heart. So this time my dear readers, settle in not for a short and sweet blog, but for a story of a little girl discovering her passion while being driven by a sense of adventure in an old historic building called the Athenaeum.

As we pulled into our parking space, the view of the beautiful red brick “castle” almost took my breath away. The memories started flooding out of the deepest parts of my mind and my eyes began to swell with tears. Happy tears. My heart began to race and my body became covered in goose bumps. I couldn’t believe how excited I had become.

We entered the Rathskeller and as we opened the door and walked down the stairs I saw myself as a little girl sliding down the intricately carved wooden stair casing under the handrail. The familiar smells filled my nose and I was taken back almost 30 years in an instant. I was dizzy with visions of the nights I spent here with my family as a child celebrating our German heritage. My hair in pig tails with red ribbons, my dress an authentic Dirndl-like style. We would feast on brats and sauerkraut and the adults would be singing, laughing, dancing and yelling, “Eins Zwei Drei SUFFA!” and then they would take a huge gulp of beer out of their fancy beer steins. The highlight of the night for me would always be the polka “chicken” dance.

We were seated in the bar area which is also the main dining room. I glanced over at the bar and it appeared to be virtually untouched from how it looked so many years ago. I blinked my eyes and when I opened them again there I sat with my good friend Katy. We were all of 8 or 9. We spent a lot of Saturday mornings together roaming the ancient halls, hidden corridors and passages, finding what we believed to be “secret” rooms. We would always end our adventures by quenching our thirst with a “Shirley Temple” in the basement. (At the bar) Don’t ask me how we got away with that, but I’m sure it had to do with the fact that Katy’s dad was some sort of big wig there at the time. So of course I had to order a Shirley Temple. I smirked as I watched 3 people behind the bar trying to figure out what a Shirley Temple consisted of. They brought it to me in a much taller glass than I remember but it tasted exactly the same, like a sweet sweet cherry 7 up. I had a vague memory that the old bar tender would stick a little sword through the cherry instead of just placing it free floating on top of the ice. None the less, my thirst was once again quenched.

We ordered our Frikadelle sandwiches. The magazine describes this sandwich as the German ancestor of our American Hamburger. It is a savory mix of pork, beef and bratwurst meat. For my side I chose the German potato salad and B.C decided on a Potato cake. The sandwich was scrumptious! The combination of meats sang a wonderful medley in my mouth. As one would expect with multiple meats involved, it had the consistency very similar to meat loaf. The bratwurst was the lead singer of the trio which gave the sandwich a little bit of a zing. The sour dough bread accompanied the meat with a perfect thickness. Toasted on the outside and soft on the inside. Just the way I like it! My German potato salad was the perfect combination of sweet and sour with perfectly cooked potatoes. I should also mention that we were served a complimentary soft pretzel with a side of spicy mustard to start off our meal. The waitress warned us that the mustard was spicy hot and of course macho B.C. shrugged off her warning. Well let me tell you, that mustard just about knocked him out of his chair! It was so spicy that it left him gasping for air! I took one smell and decided it probably wasn’t for me. The pretzel was amazingly soft with just the right amount of salt. I don’t think it really needed any help from the mustard.

I had wandered off while we were waiting on our food to take some pictures and relive my childhood for a bit. When I returned to the table I informed B.C. that we would be “exploring” as much of the Athenaeum as we could after we ate. He complied with a warning, “just don’t get us kicked out of the place!” When it was time to leave, I took him up a different set of stairs than we had entered. He reluctantly followed as if he didn’t believe I knew where I was going. (hysterical laugh) When we arrived at the top of the stairs my eyes were met with the same architecture, but all the furnishings had changed. The gymnasium where I had spent hours of my life indulging in my passion, gymnastics, was now a YMCA. I was somewhat crushed. I had been a part of something so special in that building. I was a member of the Athenaeum Turnverein during the early years of my gymnastics career. The “Turners” were located at clubs all over the country. It was such a fantastic club that allowed me so many opportunities. We would all come together and travel all over the Midwest and up as far north as Pennsylvania doing exhibitions at all kinds of venues. I would go to the Turners Gymnastics camp every summer for a month. I remember we would have to sit at the table in the mess hall with our toes pointed and elbows off the table while we ate. If we got caught breaking the rules we had to drop and do 20 pushups right then and there. Not only did we do gymnastics but we rehearsed group routines for hours and hours so that we could perform them perfectly in front of huge crowds. We included rhythmic gymnastics in our genre as well. We did ribbons, balls, clubs that glowed in the dark, and hoops. Everything we did was a spectacle. My favorite routine was one that we performed to “Nadia’s Theme.” I watched Nadia Comaneci swing around on the uneven parallel bars when I was 4 years old and that lit a passion in me that will never extinguish. The head honcho overseeing all the clubs at the time was Bud Marquette. Bud had been the coach of Olympic Gold Medalist Cathy Rigby. He used to call me “Peanut.” I was sitting in his lap one time and he said to me, “Peanut, if you want to be good at this, I mean really good, then you need to show off what you’ve got every chance you get.” So I did. I got in trouble a lot by my school teachers for “showing off” on the play ground at school. (smile)

We turned the corner and entered an old familiar hallway. Visions of yellow and blue striped mats unfolded out of my memory and onto the wooden floors of the old hallway. I spent many a night tumbling down those halls! I could barely contain myself! I wanted to cartwheel down the hallway so bad, but I kept my cool. Next we entered the area where my brother Erik used to hang out with the Young Actors program. The beautiful red carpeted staircase glowed in the sunlight gleaming through the colossal stain glass window. The stair case took us up to the Grand Ball Room which now is the home to a Cabaret Theater. When I roamed the Athenaeum, the IBT (Indianapolis Ballet Theater) would use the ballroom. I ran into a couple dancers up there once. They were practicing jumps. I just had to show off my Grand Jete’ and my full and half Tour Jete’s . All I can say is that they were very impressed and let me practice with them for a while.

The stroll down memory lane sadly came to an end and it was time to leave. I love that old place. I was so blessed to have been a part of the Athenaeum Turners in my early child hood. Eventually my gymnastics career branched off in a different direction and was “rocketed into a fourth dimension” I never dreamed possible. But that’s a whole ‘nother story for a whole ‘nother time.

We have arrived in double digits! Yep, number 10 is done!

See how this all started here: http://bkatranch.blogspot.com/2012/01/bc-and-kathies-excellent-adventure-to.html

 

Number 10! Can you believe we are on sandwich number 10? For a little recap:

 

1. Papa Roux
2. Boogie Burger
3. Northside Kitchenette
4. Hoaglin To Go
5. Nickel Plate
6. Fair Oaks
7. Harry & Izzys
8. The Original Gyro Joint
9. Boathouse Grill

 

And number 10 is………drum roll please…. Shapiro’s Deli!

 

Shapiro’s should need no introduction in Indiana. I think it is one of the most recognizable names in restaurants. They have won countless awards, been mentioned in pretty much every publication that talks about food and has been featured on many national television shows, including one of my favorites, The Best Thing I Ever Ate. Heck even USA Today called Shapiro’s one of the top ten places in the country to get authentic Jewish deli food. Perfection takes time and Shapiro’s has had time to perfect, they have been around since 1905 and they are still and always have been family owned. Incredible! In looking at the history I stumbled across some of the personalities of the family which were just great. For instance Louis and Rebecca Shapiro (the original Shapiro’s that started in 1905) would wake their children at 3 each morning with the rallying cry, "The day is half over already!" Max Shapiro (son of Louis and Rebecca) who ended up taking over the business, kept vacations to a minimum, figuring each day was a vacation when you get to see good friends over good eats every day. Max continued to work into his 80’s. Max did not have any children but he wanted a Shapiro to run the business so he enticed his nephew Mort Shapiro and Mort's son Brian to join the firm in 1984. Mort and Brian always pushed for another location and Max would say “"Why should I open a second restaurant when I still haven't got the first one off the ground?" As I talk, read, and listen to successful entrepreneurs across the state, there is always a common thread – HARD WORK. You want the key to success? It is easy. Work harder than anyone else. That is it. That is what Louis and Rebecca knew, that is what Max knew, and that is what 99 percent of the successful small business owners know.

 

I have been to Shapiro’s probably a dozen or more times in my life but I have never had the Reuben. I have always been scared of the kraut. When I hear sauerkraut I think of hot soggy sauerkraut like what is stewed with brats. Yuck. My agreement with the list is that I try “as served” for one bite and then scrape off whatever I don’t like so I figured it would be just a little bite of nasty kraut. When the sandwich arrived, I immediately noticed a few things. I noticed that the sandwich looked like the picture on Super46.com. It is amazing how many things Kathie and I have eaten from the list that look NOTHING like the picture on Super46.com. I also noticed that the kraut was piled up and looked fresh and un-cooked. I jumped into the sandwich, kraut and all, and I will admit that it was the best Rueben I have ever ate (did you catch that). The crisp kraut sandwiched between piles of corned beef topped off with Thousand Island and Swiss cheese. Oh, I forgot to mention the grilled rye bread that is made fresh that day. I loved every bite of that sandwich and would order it again maybe with extra kraut. I also love the ambience of the original Shapiro’s on Meridian. It looks like a cafeteria from the 70’s but it doesn’t feel “old”. It is kind of hard to describe, but it looks exactly like it should look. Kathie and I were there on a Saturday evening, past the “normal” dinner hour and the place was busy but not crowded. There was every walk of life in there. Families, working people, cops on break, people dressed up and people dressed down. Rich, poor, black and white the only common thread with this eclectic group of people was everyone knew they were eating something special.

 

Come on double digits! Number 9 is the Boathouse Grill

See how this all started here: http://bkatranch.blogspot.com/2012/01/bc-and-kathies-excellent-adventure-to.html

Number 9! We are closing in on double digits. Hard to think that half way would be after 23 sandwiches! We are still loving the challenge of completing the list and it is opening our eyes to new places to eat, new parts of town and new foods. I am grateful to the list for that. This week we headed to Boathouse Grill on west 56th Street. This is my old stomping grounds. I grew up on the edge of Eagle Creek and went to Pike High School, so I traveled 56th Street every day. The center that holds the Boathouse Grill was just farmland when I roamed that area. The Boathouse sits in a little strip center at 56th and High School Road.

"Come on with the picture taking B.C."

The list states: “Down the street from the Colts Complex, you can enjoy a fish sandwich to satisfy the biggest NFL appetite. The establishment, favored by Colts staffers, prides itself on its seafood offerings. The battered and fried whitefish fillet sandwich measures nearly a foot long and comes dressed in lettuce, tomato, onion and house made tartar sauce. The house made potato chips are a crispy complement.”

It is a good looking lunch meal! 

I must admit that I am not a fish guy. I’m not disgusted by fish (like my wife), but I would very rarely order fish and the only way that I eat it is covered in batter and deep fried. That is not to say that I have not had a lot of fish. It is one of my father’s favorite things and he is an avid fisherman so growing up we had fish from time to time. I have had it at McDonalds’ and at five star restaurants. I have had it frozen and had it fresh. I have had it in a boat, I have had it near a goat, I have had with a rope… hold on, I seem to be channeling Theodor Seuss Geisel. Let’s just say I have had fish. Entering the Boathouse the first thing you notice is the boat hanging from the ceiling. It is very cool. The whole nautical theme is cool. The next thing you notice is the smoke. It is a bar and is still a smoking allowed bar. I am not an anti-smoking zealot, in fact I am an ex-smoker, but the smoke in the Boathouse would have even been too much when I did smoke! Kathie and I trudged on and grabbed a booth. I ordered from the Fish Submarine and Kathie ordered Nachos. The staff was nice and our meal arrived quickly. The first thing you notice is the size of the thing. It is almost a foot long. I must admit that it looked really good. I quickly dunked a fry in the home made tartar sauce because if the tartar sauce wasn’t great we were going to be in for a long lunch. It was good, very good, in fact better than the sandwich. Once you get beyond the size of the sandwich it tasted like a frozen filet that you would get at any chain sit down restaurant. It wasn’t bad – it just wasn’t anything. The bread didn’t jump out at me nor did the breading on the fish, which I guarantee wasn’t hand breaded or anything like that. It was ho-hum for me. Kathie’s nachos were also nothing to write about. Canned cheese pumped onto bagged up nacho chips. They actually were below average for bar food. Overall I don’t think that I will be sending anyone to the Boathouse except for my father who will like the décor. I will be sure to tell him to sit near the front door so he can get some fresh air from time to time.

Too bad their food doesn't taste as good as it looks.

The Original Gyro Joint (or is it)?

See how this all started here: http://bkatranch.blogspot.com/2012/01/bc-and-kathies-excellent-adventure-to.html

The pick for number 8 is ….drum roll please… The Original Gyro Joint in Broad Ripple! Kathie and I were both in the mood for a gyro and since we were in Carmel, it was just a short jump over to Broad Ripple. There is a gyro that holds a special place in my heart. I had a good friend who was a taxi driver in Indianapolis and he raved on and on about Mr. J’s on South East Street. I was working downtown Indianapolis at the time, so it wasn’t a far drive. Mr. J’s was not a place that I would ever choose on my own. It was in an old Burger Chef and even from the outside looked horrible. I reluctantly agreed to go in with my friend and met the two brothers that owned the place. I tried the bbq gyro which was the gyro meat, bbq sauce and a pepper mix. The only way that I could describe that gyro is amazing. I started going to Mr. J’s at least once a week for that gyro and would even drive from the far Westside on the weekends to have the meal. Mr. J’s has since changed owners (a few times) and I have stopped there a few times hoping and praying that the bbq gyro would be back, but I was let down. Their version of “bbq” gyro was nothing like the original. I stopped trying to find a replacement for that gyro and just settle on whatever. Needless to say, I was excited to try someplace that ranked high for a gyro!

Walking into the joint, I asked Kathie if we had ever been to a clean gyro joint. She said such a thing doesn’t exist! The Original Gyro Joint in Broad Ripple is trashed. It is probably from the years of drunks stumbling in at the wee hours of the morning coupled with really long hours for the owner/operator. Who wants to stay around at 4:00 in the morning when you have to be back in just a few short hours to open for the lunch crowd? I get it. It doesn’t mean that I will go back to the place, but I do understand how a place ends up looking dirty when you work 18 hours a day 7 days a week. The bathroom had so much stuff piled up in front of it that the door doesn’t even open all the way and when I finally did fight my way inside the bathroom, no paper towels. Washing hands must not be high on the list with the late night crowd. In all seriousness, I am a little disappointed with this restaurant being put on the list. I don’t think it represents a good example of a nice Hoosier owned restaurant. I guess when 90% of your business comes from the late night bar crowd, you can slack on the housekeeping!

It is a nice pile of gyro meat for the money!

We both ordered the “sandwich” from the list – The Original Gyro. The list describes it as “handmade sauce, chopped tomatoes and onions and a healthy portion of thinly sliced lamb’s meat combined with cool tzatziki sauce in a warm pita.” The place only had one person working and I assume that he was the owner. He took our order and then disappeared to the back. After about 15 minutes, our food arrived. We were there late in the afternoon so I assume that is why it took so long.

It has Kathies smile of approval!

All “housekeeping” issues aside, the gyro was good. It is a huge portion of meat and the sauce was nice. Was it as good as Mr. J’s? Nope. Not even close, but I am starting to think that there is no gyro that will ever be as good as my memory of Mr. J’s.