I wasted no
time as the clock began on 2013 on getting into two restaurants I had never
been. On New Year’s Eve, our softball group and their wives/girlfriends arranged
a fifteen person dinner at Tuscany on
Route 21 in Wheeling. Would this massive eatery, meshed with Wildfire and
Maggiano’s style decorations be original enough to separate itself from
lookalike knockoffs?
I felt
ancient having dinner at Tuscany at 6pm on New Year’s Eve, maybe because the
majority of the diners around us at first were Medicare card carriers. As the
two hour dinner rolled on, families and people our late 20’s/early 30’s age
populated the massive space. With a large party on an expected busy night,
there were wait times for food that took about the average expected time. What
stymied many of us was having sat down at 6 is that we didn’t take our order
until almost 6:40. Tuscany seemed to be one of those places you’d need a NASCAR
checkered flag to catch the attention of your waiter.
Ally and I
realized the sixty we set aside for dinner might not cover the both of us. Our
group didn’t hesitate to have our eyes widen at the thirty to fifty dollar
average price on the New Year’s special menu, only to then go for the high
teen’s prices. Ally was right in reminding me to leave my preconceived
prejudice aside of this Italian eatery, wrestling down that half-Italian blood
of mine until our plates were wiped clean.
The special
occasion called for an order of filleto – a filet mignon, cooked just under
medium. Being a tender steak with a horseradish topper and a dynamic burgundy
red wine glaze on the edge of the plate, the dish passed the first test. Ally’s
veal medallions were in fact not rounded slices but pounded down into strips
like tenderloin or skirt steak. Veal shouldn’t be tough as these were, probably
from the meat tightening up in a high heat pan or grill. Her squares of
polenta, fresh with grill marks, had a soft crunch on the outside while still
preserving the creamy cornmeal within. A few friends had the lasagna, which I
contemplated. By their run of the mill reactions to oily lasagna I spent a bit
more for quality and the gamble paid off.
On New
Year’s Day, Ally and I had the pleasure of being treated to lunch by her father
at Tokio Pub, next to Shaw’s Crab House at the Streets of Woodfield in Schaumburg. Wearing
sunglasses to avoid the glaze of the sun to our numb brains, there was nothing
better to treat a New Year’s hangover than to keep drinking - with a side of
noodles and broth. Tokio Pub
resembled a hybrid of Japanese sushi-houses and new age restaurateurs injecting
wood walls painted black, Latin American/Korean and Japanese food, with the
occasionally Japanese calligraphy scrawled on the walls. Don’t know if you’ve
ever thought this but some Americans tend to show ignorance to foreign words,
thinking they are all beautiful and exotic as they line their bodies with
tattoos and walls with Far East phrases. For all we know the walls could have
read, “Eat somewhere else!” or “Fuck you, fat American.” Luckily the food
proved the establishment’s worth.
Being again
in a large group of her Dad’s friends and Ally’s brother, half the table by
sheer interest took on my suggestion to order what was a legitimate bowl of
ramen in broth. Happy to play the teacher (can’t help that) to Ally’s brother
and letting him know that bulk buy ramen is in fact not the real deal, I took
pleasure in seeing his and others faces light up by the quality of the dish, as
if they realized this is what ramen is supposed to taste like instead of
college-level poverty and high sodium. The smooth broth, flecked with the
flavor of the green onions and dynamite strong peppers, was wonderful. They
even put out the sizzle I felt on my lips and the back of my throat from the
peppers I thought to chew than swallow. The breaded and fried pieces of fish
floating at the top melted evenly with the noodles that were dense enough to
pick up with chopsticks. Ally and the rest enjoyed multiple rounds of the one
day special of dollar mini tacos, which had just a twinge of Asian influences on
the Mexican dish. Impressed enough, I can guarantee I might even order out or
pay another visit in these cold months!
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