Rosa's Italian Market & Deli

Rosa’s Italian Market and Deli
120 E. 4th St, Post Falls
(208) 777-7740

"Italian restaurants with more than 120 entrees are always disappointing."
~ Miss Piggy, 'Miss Piggy's Guide to Life' (1981)

It was a little disconcerting, yet also somehow comforting when our lunch order was ready for pickup and we heard our hostess’ voice cry out loudly, “Patrick! Are you hungry? Come and get it!” It was a little like being back in the old country (that is, if I were actually Italian), and hearing your beloved mama’s voice summon you to the dinner table from out the back door of the family casa. It certainly got my attention, and was just one of many charming personal touches that made our visit to Rosa’s Italian Market and Deli an utterly memorable and impressive experience.

We parked next to the converted house across the street from Post Falls’ shiny new City Hall building and it was immediately clear that owners John and Tina-Marie Schultz put a lot of love into the place. The landscaping is gorgeous, with cheerful flower patches, neatly trimmed rosebushes, and eclectic lawn ornaments. We stopped on the way in to read a sign explaining the rich history of the Victorian-style house, which is on the National Register of Historic Places, and was built in 1910 by Samuel and Ann Young, one of the very first couples to settle in Post Falls.

The elegance continues inside, with classy framed prints of Italian artwork and wooden built-in shelves displaying old family photos. Everything seems set up as to not interfere with the historical vibe of the place, and although the building was likely recently restored, it still feels like an authentic old-school market and deli, with racks and racks of dry pastas, canned sauces, vinegars, and European candies surrounding the main dining areas.

The deli case is stuffed full of an unusual selection of cold cuts, such as Sopressata, Mortadella and Hot Capocolla, and cheeses such as Gorgonzola, and Ricotta Salatta. Basically, if your recipe calls for some crazy Italian ingredient which in the letter “a”, Rosa’s probably has it ready and waiting.

Another display case is stuffed with salacious homemade pastries and dessert items like Tiramisu, Napoleons, Cassatinas, and Sicilian Rum Cakes. Our eyeballs gained twenty pounds each just gazing at the wonderment of it all. A full menu of real-deal coffee and espresso drinks is also on offer that makes a place like Dutch Brothers seem positively pathetic by comparison.

Tina-Marie greeted us at the order counter as if we’d been living upstairs for years and had just returned from running an errand. “What can I get you kids today?” she asked, and I was immediately smitten. I’m not exactly approaching senior citizen age or anything, but it’s been quite awhile since anyone referred to me as a “kid”, so I was slightly flattered. Her demeanor was relaxed and chatty, and when we told her we hadn’t been in before, she filled us in on the essential details of the place, how long they’d been open, and how they’re “famous” for their intense Friday evening dinner specials when they serve classic temptations such as Cabbage Rolls, Manicotti, and Veal Parmesan.

We stood and checked out the selection of sandwiches and after debating between the Eggplant Parmesan, The Sinatra (sopresetta and salami with sun dried tomatoes and fresh mozzarella), and Il Padrina (five Italian meats, provolone, and roasted red peppers), we both decided on the Chicken Marsala with a cup of a nameless soup made with cabbage, potatoes, and onions.

Tina-Marie belted my name and we grabbed our red plastic baskets full of joy, ready to dig in. If their Italian Bread Rolls aren’t made from scratch, then they must have a baker that delivers fresh hourly, as they seemed still warm from the oven, astoundingly soft and toothsome. The chunks of chicken breast inside were huge and flavorful, sautéed in olive oil and Marsala wine and sprinkled with fresh-grated Parmesan. The soup was thick and stunningly tasty considering the simplicity of the ingredients, and the accompanying pack of oyster crackers added the necessary crunch.

We couldn’t help but overhear our neighboring diners, two ladies with thick accents, rave about their Cannolis and mini-cups of espresso to the point of ecstasy and announce that they hadn’t enjoyed such a treat since “back east”. Neither one of us had ever had the pleasure of enjoying an authentic New York Italian deli, but we couldn’t help but agree with the sentiment. With heaps of personality and genuinely delicious cuisine, Rosa’s Market and Deli is one of the finest specimens west of the Mississippi.

Follow Up: Cris Cut Crisis

We're all about influencing positive changes here at Get Out North Idaho, and I'm not talking about weight loss hypnosis. I give you: the triumphant return of Zips' Cris Cuts to sunny downtown Coeur d'Alene. The following comment from the restaurant's owner came down the pipeline yesterday:

"Cris cuts at Zip's. Ahhh, my wife Anavel loves them also -- slathered in ketchup. But with the new world and technology comes accurate numbers and I cringe at times as the numbers do not lie and items that I swear we sold plenty of in reality are pretty weak. At any rate I announced to her last May that with the significantly reduced sales of Cris Cuts that it was time to take them off the menu in downtown Cda'. Cris cuts seemed to be an item that had run it's course. Not hearing any comments all summer in regards to cris cuts I was excited to see this blog passed on to me and that there is interest in this item. With that in mind and also being one that likes to prove the numbers wrong I'll offer them up as a menu item starting next Tuesday (9-7) thru the end of October to see what transpires. As always we'll have to track the numbers to see what happens and if they are worth putting them back on as a permanent item. One thing is for certain my wife Anavel will be ordering them up! Hmmm, now if there was only the same interest in my beloved grilled 1/4 hot dog which I also pulled last May. I loved that dawg! ~ Michael"

OK potato junkies, get down there and start ordering up those heaping tubs of polyunsaturated goodness with extra tartar and tell them we sent you.

Jameson Restaurant and Saloon

Jameson Restaurant and Saloon
304 Sixth St., Wallace
(208) 556-6000

"A ghost is someone who hasn't made it - in other words, who died, and they don't know they're dead. So they keep walking around and thinking that you're inhabiting their - let's say, their domain. So they're aggravated with you." ~ Sylvia Browne

Maggie the Ghost needs to get busy throwing plates and shattering coffee cups. Legend has it that a woman named Maggie checked into Wallace’s Jameson Inn decades ago and never really checked out. Apparently, she waited patiently in her room for months and months for her rich suitor to return from a trip back east, and he never did and though she finally gave up and left the hotel in life, in death she has returned to wait it out for eternity. I can’t blame Maggie for being in a rotten mood, but unfortunately her bad vibes seem to have put a curse on the service level and quality of food in the old Inn’s restaurant.

We decided to meander over to Wallace for lunch, but it wasn’t until we pulled into town we realized we had arrived during some kind of street festival with a patch of craft and food booths and a stage show featuring a young boy playing screeching electric blues on his guitar. We picked the Jameson at random, and when we got settled into our table we figured out via a table topper that we’d come during not only the annual Huckleberry Festival, but also on the exact day of the 100th anniversary of the Great 1910 Fire, which burned through ten national forests and is still the largest wildfire in US history.

Apparently, the Jameson was the place to commemorate the disaster, as the restaurant was bubbling with people, some even wrapped in conversation about the subject. The Jameson dining room is thick with spectral energy, and staff and customers have reported for years of hearing disembodied voices partying it up in what once was one of the rowdiest saloons in the west. The bar itself is awe inspiring, a massive mirror-filled wooden arch which reaches ten feet to nearly the top of the lofty ceiling.

We settled into our menus and immediately spotted something called the “1910 Fire Burger”, which included jalapenos, pepper-jack cheese and BBQ sauce. A fiery mouth was the perfect way to commemorate the occasion we thought, so both of us decided to go for it. Things started off well enough, with the waitress arriving moments later with our Bloody Marys, not the best we’d ever had, but strong enough to do the trick and complete with an asparagus spear and a tiny baby onion.

Our luck started to go a bit pear-shaped when, nearly fifteen minutes later, a different waitress arrived and said “Sorry, we’re all out of hamburger. We’re getting more but it’s going to be a while before we can do anything with it since it’ll be frozen.” How long is “a while”, we asked, only to be told “I don’t know, honey, just a while, okay?”

Rather than wait it out, we disappointedly opted to have another look at the menu. Obviously, frozen burgers were out, and barring the beyond-our-budget dinner selections, the other options were quite minimal. We were thinking about ordering nachos from the appetizer menu, but that plan was derailed when we heard the waitress tell a nearby table, “Sorry, we’re out of those too.” Rats, foiled again.

With visions of juicy burgers still dancing in our heads, nothing much else on the menu really grabbed us. I opted to try their Reuben, a recent fetish of mine, and my lunch partner ordered a club sandwich on Rye. We ordered another round of Bloody Marys and our server returned with something entirely different from our first drink, with no garnish, no Worchestershire, no Tabasco, and a vague hint of tomato juice. It was so strong with cheap well vodka we were barely able to hack it, and this is coming from a couple of seasoned professionals.

Our lunches finally arrived a long 35 minutes later. We noticed right away that the waitress must have neglected to mention that they were also out of rye bread, for my Reuben was served on some kind of cracked wheat and so was my friend’s Club, despite the fact he had specifically ordered rye. I peeled open my sandwich to realize they must also be out of Swiss cheese and thousand island dressing, and what I was left with was a few fried scraps of dry roast beef (not pastrami), a smidge of sauerkraut that looked like it was formerly dehydrated, and a half-teaspoon of mayo globbed right in the center of it all.

It was dry and nearly inedible, and the accompanying onion rings were semi-cooked, limp and dripping with room temperature cooking oil. My lunch partner nearly gagged as he bit into his Club sandwich and globs of warm mayo gushed out from between thick chunks of canned, reconstituted turkey. The saving grace was his potato salad, which almost seemed homemade, and wasn’t exactly fantastic, but at least gave us something to nibble on, since everything else on our plates was beyond consumption.

We could have raised a fuss and asked for our food to be erased from our bill, but at that point we just wanted to flee the scene. We paid and left in fast fashion, leaving it up to Maggie the Ghost to wreak her havoc at the Jameson and hopefully scare some sense into the staff and make them improve their tragic situation.

Sunday Funday 4th Street Pub Crawl

I've always loved the term "pub crawl". It brings to mind visions of  people so tanked they have to crawl on their hands and knees to the next bar so they can continue the madness and get even more tanked. Not that I would actually know what it's like to get so tanked  that I have to crawl to the next bar, no sir-ee, not I.

Anyway, this coming Sunday starting at 3 p.m. a "Sunday Funday Pub Crawl" is planned that will take revelers from midtown to downtown via 4th Street, hitting every possible bar in between. The event is being organized by Jarrod Batchelder, a local real estate agent who has been involved with putting downtown Cd'A pub crawls together for the better part of the past decade. This is actually the first one that doesn't stick to the beaten path of Sherman Avenue bars and lounges and if successful, will become a regular occurrence.

Batchelder says the "theme" of the 4th Street crawl is "Graffiti" and for the $25 entry fee, participants will receive a blank white tee shirt upon which their fellow crawlers, or bartenders, or whoever can go crazy writing obscenities using a fresh Sharpie marker. Crawlers will also receive a baseball cap commemorating the event and bracelet which will entitle the wearer to free or extremely discounted drinks at the participating bars along the way. Not a bad deal, really, and it promises to be a wild way to close out the summer with a bang. Be sure to bring your kneepads!

The Sunday Funday 4th Street Pub Crawl will be hitting these fine establishments in the order listed below:

Capone's
Kelly's Irish Pub
9 Below
Moose Lounge
Iron Horse

For more info or to reserve a spot call Jarrod Batchelder at (208) 699-1652

Iron Horse Bar and Grill

Iron Horse Bar and Grill
407 E. Sherman Ave., Coeur d’Alene
(208) 667-7314

Several years ago I did a few columns reviewing the ancient history of Coeur d’Alene’s restaurant and bar scene, and I made mention of the Iron Horse’s former incarnation, the legendary Brunswick Café. Brunswick owner Bill Webster had always claimed that his food made him famous, especially his cheese soup and his cleverly named “Awful Awful Burger”, both of which were carried over when the place morphed into the easternmost room of the Iron Horse in 1972.

My exact quote was “The Brunswick’s trademark ‘Awful Awful’ burger is still served at the location, which is now the Iron Horse, but unfortunately I hear the burger is now just plain awful.” Just a joke, but the restaurant’s owners weren’t laughing, and word came down the pipeline that in the future they preferred that I not mention the place ever again, nor should I bother to drop by.

Whether my comment was funny or not is arguable, but it wasn’t entirely based in humor. My prior experiences at the Iron Horse hadn’t been so fantastic. Lackadaisical service, questionable cleanliness, and unremarkable cuisine were the main issues, and really, what’s left to love after that? Perhaps they were just having a bad day or two, perhaps a bad year or two, but I can’t say I was too broken up about getting 86’d for good.

So when I decided recently that enough time had passed and hopefully I wouldn’t get beat up or be asked to leave, I arranged to meet a friend at the Iron Horse for lunch. After one of the most enjoyable and relaxing experiences I’ve had dining out in recent memory, I’m happy to finally eat my words and retract anything rotten I’ve said about the downtown landmark in the past.

Our first intention was to dine out on the sidewalk, but after two and a half minutes of scorching 95 degree heat, we opted to scamper into the main bar room to a cooler inside table close enough to the sidewalk where we could still do some good people watching. The openness of the Iron Horse’s summertime layout is one of the most attractive aspects of the place and there’s never any shortage of tourists, beachy boys and girls, and random weirdoes to gawk at.

We fell in love with our bartender/server Janel right away. Her demeanor was casual and warm, like dropping by a familiar pal’s garage party for a couple of beers and a bite to eat. My friend and I were in no hurry, we just wanted to chit-chat and relax and after taking our order, Janel pretty much left us to it, only checking in at the exact moment we needed to order another red beer. In other words, she had to visit our table so many times she probably grew sick of our increasingly jovial faces, but even still, her grace remained intact.

Looking over the lunch menu, we were a bit taken aback by the somewhat lofty price setup, with most sandwich and burger options hovering near the $10 mark. We kind of got over it, figuring that they were comparable to other nearby Sherman Avenue eateries, and as we would soon learn, it’s quite worth the cash spent.

I’d already made up my mind before even looking at the menu. I had to order the Awful Awful burger, the very burger whose name I had smeared so viciously. If it turned out to be fabulous, I could finally atone for my gaffe. If not, meh. We weren’t really sure what to expect, but when Janel returned a few minutes later with our plates, we knew that our lunch was, at the very least, delicious for our eyeballs.

It turned out to be delicious for our tongues, tummies and souls as well. My Awful Awful was two hand formed burger patties, two layers of creamy cheddar cheese, piled high with lettuce, pickle chips and thick slices of onion and tomato. It wasn’t anything tremendously fancy or unusual, but the juicy beef patty was cooked to charred perfection and the toppings were farm-fresh and crisp.

The crunchy golden-brown onion rings sent the whole affair over the top, fresh cut and hand dipped instead of from some frozen miserable bag. My friend said his Vegetarian Sandwich was also so fresh he could barely stand it, piled high with possibly every vegetable in the book of vegetables, barring rutabagas, jicamas and eggplants.

We were rather surprised by how completely impressed and satisfied we were with our lunches, and to recover from the shock we realized we’d have to spend the rest of the afternoon enjoying cold pints of Pabst and Clamato and watching the leisurely world of summertime downtown Coeur d’Alene flash by. It was like a film, one that can only be seen at the Iron Horse, in which nothing much happens and the viewers provide their own witty story lines and narration. It’s a film we plan on seeing again many times in the future.

Zips Criss Cut Crisis

Is there anything in the world more traumatizing than when a restaurant stops serving one of your favorite items? Probably, but it still really bites. Apparently, Zips Drive-In on Sherman Ave. in Cd'A has mercilessly killed off one of their trademark items, something they've been serving since the dawn of time, something beloved by thousands of local residents both young and old: Criss Cut Fries.

I haven't been witness to the horror of this travesty myself, but a friend of mine told me last night that he had just been to Zips with the intention of ordering the same thing he's ordered for decades: two Papa Joes and a tub of Criss Cuts. The counters girl's reply was as cold and dry as an arctic tundra or Sarah Palin's ****: "Sorry, they've been discontinued".

My friend said the words made his heart pound, his head throb and his knees go weak. Discontinued. Dis.cont.in.ued. He said he felt like she might as well have told him "Sorry, your grandmother is discontinued", for the sense of loss and confusion was sudden and overwhelming. No more Zips Criss Cuts. Ever.

His appetite immediately disappeared, and as is normal with the grieving process, his sadness changed to anger as he turned on his heel and exited stage right, announcing haughtily "Well then, missy! I guess you just lost this customer for good!"

Personally, I would have probably just said "Then I guess it's gonna have to be tater tots for this bitch from now on" and lived with it, I still find the idea rather upsetting. I remember Mom surprising us with tubs of Criss Cuts from Zips when I was growing up, and there was something unique and magical about them, and plus, they could hold gobs of that Zips trademark tartar sauce like no other fried side in the world. 

The question then is "Why?" Why would Zips kill one of their tastiest and most popular items? Is it the bad economy? Do we blame Obama for this one? (You know people will.) Are they simply considered gauche and out-of-style next to younger, sexier onion rings with their dark Hollywood tans? Were they just discontinued by the evil overlords that manufacture them? We the people want answers. The only other place to get them is Carl's Jr. and Carl's Jr. is fully disgusting, so that won't be happening anytime soon.

Perhaps it's time for the good residents of Coeur d'Alene to band together and rise up in support of the mighty Criss Cuty fry and demand that Zips bring it back immediately! Meanwhile, I hope you'll join my friend and I in boycotting the restaurant until they come to their senses and give the people back the glorious friend potato product they've come to adore and make part of their families. Well, you can join my friend at least. I can't possibly go any length of time without their awesome Halibut-n-Chips.

Kootenai Cafe

Kootenai Café
206 N. 4th St., Coeur d’Alene
(208) 665-KOOT.

In the wise words of that late, great philosopher Aaliyah, “If at first you don't succeed, dust yourself off and try again, you can dust it off and try again, try again.” Actually, technically speaking, Michael Hanes first venture into the restaurant world, the 4th St. Pantry, located in the same brick storefront a block and a half north of Sherman Avenue on Fourth Street was quite a success.

The 24-hour diner was quite often packed to standing-room-only proportions, even in the wee hours of the night, and I never heard one complaint from anyone about the food, nor did I receive any e-mails from the usual Negative Nellies telling me how rotten I was for giving it a glowing review (yeah Mom, I’m talking about you).

Then suddenly one dreary morning, the place went dark, the doors were locked and the only clue was a sign saying “closed due to technical difficulties”. Rumors swirled, but basically the reason for the closure boils down to something most of us can certainly relate to: a shortage of moolah. Exact details of Hanes’ financial woes are unknown, but to sum it up, too much cash went into overhead and maintaining an overly large, around-the-clock staff.

“I know exactly what I did wrong and how not to do it again,” Hanes told me on my recent visit to the newly re-opened diner which he rechristened the Kootenai Café, perhaps in an attempt to shake off any lingering bad juju. A reduction in operating hours and staff, along with a strong sense of perspective should hopefully keep the doors open this time. Otherwise, not a lot of changes have taken place, other than the addition of a salad bar area in the back corner and some shuffling around of booths and tables to allow for a bit more seating.

For the time being, Kootenai Café will be a breakfast and lunch only sort of situation, with plans to expand back into a 24-hour diner at some point later on. It may actually happen sooner than later according to Hanes, at least on an occasional basis. “I’ve already got the itch to do that,” he told me, “I just love the excitement of the late night crowd.” That’s a rather nice way to refer to hungry loudmouth drunks, but regardless, Hanes says he might open his doors to them as soon as this weekend and if that goes well, 24-hour weekends might become a regular thing.

The main reason why the 4th Street Pantry became such an instant hit was the addictively high quality of the food and happily, Kootenai Café’s menu is pretty much identical to that of its predecessor. Breakfast highlights include “The Canfield”, which is hash browns covered in country gravy accompanied by a hollandaise smothered ham and cheese omelet, and the “Appleway Cakes” which are pancakes folded with red applesauce and topped with honey cream cheese. The latter was a favorite of mine from the 4th Street Pantry days, since I’m a full-on candy junkie, and the delicious red applesauce is created using melted “Red Hots” cinnamon candies.

Another incomprehensibly divine favorite is their “Kootenai Kristo”, their version of that oh so rare and supreme creation, the Monte Cristo sandwich. Whoever thought up the idea of taking an entire ham, turkey, and cheese sandwich, dipping it in batter and submerging it into the deep fryer ought to have a national holiday named after them. Kootenai Café does theirs perfectly, layering on the batter extra thick, frying it to a crispy golden brown, and serving it with a side of sweet strawberry jam. Your arteries might groan, but your tummy will shriek with delight.

Kootenai Café’s lunch spread also includes a California Chicken Sandwich, with avocado, Swiss cheese and honey mustard, a tuna salad stuffed tomato, a monstrous Reuben sandwich, and a Salmon Burger, all served with the same “endless” French fries that became legendary before the close of the Pantry.

With its awesome homestyle cuisine and comfortable atmosphere, it’s quite good to have the place percolating again. Somewhat humbled by his learning experience, Hanes is reinvigorated and back in the ring for round two of the restaurant rumble, and as long as he can stay away from money messes, he’ll have a definite knockout on his hands.