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Thursday, July 14, 2005

Ate lunch.

Will write more when can fit arms around distended belly to type. *passed out* Nearly four hours later... I am almost no longer full-to-bursting. Now I'm just mildly, uncomfortably full. I love this place. I wish it weren't in the middle of Nowheresville, Harlem. Actually, I'm glad it is. At least I can't roll myself there once a week as I'd otherwise want to do. My dining partner and I split an order of fried green tomatoes to start. I love, love, love fried green tomatoes. My grandma used to make them when I was little, from the unripe 'maters my grandfather grew in the back yard, and slap 'em on Wonderbread with some bacon and mayo. Mmmmmm. She also used to put spaghetti on buttered Wonderbread and serve us grandkids spaghetti sandwiches. Mmmmmmm. Yes, I was an enormously fat child, why do you ask? Anyway, Grandma's green tomato frying method went something like this: Slice green tomatoes Dip in a mixture of flour, salt and black pepper, ensuring the tomato juice has made a nice layer of battery goodness. Fry in bacon grease that has been sitting on top of the stove in an old Maxwell House tin for the last week, in giant iron pot that has never, ever been cleaned, or at the very least looks that way. Serve with fat, fat and starch. I mean bacon, mayo and white bread. Dino kicked the FGT way up by actually coating the tomato slices in a crunchy seasoned batter, sprinkling them with grated romano cheese, and serving them up with ranch dressing on the side. Delicious. Not as delicious as my Gran's, partly because it is nearly impossible to find an actual unripe tomato in this town, let alone one of quality akin to what my gradfather grew in the yard under his tender ministrations (which would be, tossing biodegradable fruit rinds in their general vicinity and not dumping motor oil from his auto-repair business there, within at least three or so feet), but very good, in their own special way. We both followed with their half-rack-plus-sides special: six or seven ribs and your choice of two of roughly a dozen sides. I got the barbecue beans and fries. I ate the fries topped with the deliciousest barbecue beans I've ever had. Not saying much, since I don't think I've had any real barbecue beans anywhere else, but them were good. Supergood. So super good I could only eat two ribs after that and the tomatoes, alas. But the ribs were fantastic--the meat fell right off the bone. I'm a fan of a sweeter sauce, but I didn't leave those extras for the alley cats, if you know what I mean. They're chillaxin' in my fridge. When I get hungry again (next Tuesday), they'll be there, waiting to welcome me with open, smokey barbecue arms. I didn't drink. It was lunch, after all, and M is my only drunk-in-the-sun buddy. But I did have a peek at the dessert/drink menu. On offer: drinks with names like Donkey Punch and Bitch Bastard (with Makers Mark for X-types), served in Mason jars. Lordy. Again, I am thankful for the Dino's location. 1. I will not drink near a highway. Too truck-stop whore for me. Hooch in Mason jars? Nuh-uh. 2. Dino is truly in the ass of Harlem. Okay, it's across from Fairway and down the street from Cotton Club, but there is nothing else there but auto garages and, and, well, nothing worth mentioning. If you think I'm going to get lit in that kind of neighborhood, and then walk back to civilization to catch a cab at midnight, you've got another think coming, my friend. 3. I cannot drink anything called the Donkey Punch. I'm not sure I wish to drink in a place that serves a drink called the Donkey Punch. Did I mention it and several other drinks are made with Sierra Mist? How declasse! *snort* I'd go back for the flesh, though. Ah, the taste of life, butchered, bled and charred for my epicurean edification. *burp*

5 Comments:

At 7/14/2005 06:06:00 PM, Blogger Berry said...

WHATTTT??? A good bbq spot in the hood...you shouldn't have told me! Yes, you are certainly off the veggie wagon eh? I ain't mad at you :-)

 
At 7/15/2005 01:01:00 PM, Blogger Berry said...

The location is in the butt hole of Harlem RIGHT NOW but there are HUGE plans for that part of the city in development from river to river. I WILL be checking that spot out...I heard Virgil's is also off the hook but for a rib spot in the 'hood...that's even better. Their prices don't look too bad either. Thanks for the review, Siddy!

 
At 7/15/2005 02:52:00 PM, Blogger divine m said...

See now, if I had been there, you'd still be drunk and fired, and approaching such a better life. The main diff'rence 'tween you and me is I seek out dangerous watering holes. And mason jars, yes--I'll drank me anything out of them unless it's blue. This is the only family drinking rule I abide by. The other rule that I know of is don't drink anything you can't see through, and Guinness single-handedly blew that one.

And what a way to blow a diet for a day! YUM!!

 
At 7/15/2005 03:33:00 PM, Blogger Mary said...

You sure did come off the veggie wagon with full force but that does sound super delish. R says it's not that far from him so I'm thinking he's going to have to take me there when I finally make it out to NYC.

 
At 7/17/2005 02:07:00 PM, Anonymous Hilari said...

See, I was sayin to myself, "don't look at the menu. You'll be sorry you looked at the menu." So of course I looked at the menu. I'd slap my own mama for some ribs right now....

 

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