Saturday, June 28, 2008

North Idaho Staycation

Why travel abroad? There's plenty of “staycation” opportunities right here in North Idaho.

Americans are most adaptable creatures. With the economy rapidly withering away and fuel prices reaching nausea-inducing heights, all our wonderful summer vacation plans have melted faster than ice on Mars. No worries, we’ll just smile and plan a “staycation” instead; thereby coining yet another annoying buzzword we can use to create yet another new marketing niche to hawk stay-home vacation gear and local hotel packages and drive ourselves even deeper into the credit pit. With any luck, local tourist meccas will be able to make up for the missing out-of-town dollars by servicing North Idahoans too broke to trek elsewhere and willing to rediscover their own backyard.

A great way to begin gathering some ideas for your staycation is by visiting one of the local visitor centers such as the lofty new downtown Coeur d’Alene facility or the small hut located at the Huetter rest area on I-90. Both are majorly stocked with a ton of free maps, magazines and brochures featuring every imaginable thing to see and do in every little blink-and-you-miss-it town in North Idaho and beyond. Pretend you’re an actual tourist visiting for the first time; you’ll be surprised to realize all the places you’re basically unfamiliar with no matter how long you’ve lived in the area.

Get ideas from the visitor host and ask important questions like “Can you recommend a good lake” or “Where’s the nearest Starbucks?” Have lots of the free cookies and coffee; make it a meal. Load up your arms; take exactly one copy of each publication even though you’ll probably never actually use them and don’t forget to throw some Canadian coins in the donation jar.

Send the kids off to Bible Camp and book a theme room for you and your significant other in the vintage splendor of the Bennett Bay Inn on East Coeur d’Alene Lake Drive. It’s been there as long as anyone can remember, once serving as the first sign of civilization for those whizzing eastbound into Coeur d’Alene on what used to be Interstate 10, then Interstate 90.

The Bennett Bay Inn harbors a bit of a bawdy reputation, something I witnessed repeatedly many years back when I was working as a pizza delivery boy. I’ll admit, the first time I had an elderly gentleman accept his pizza drunk, dripping wet, and buck naked it was rather shocking. Several similar incidents later and I was un-phased, peering in and waving “hi” to hungry lady-friends soaking in the bubbles of the in-suite hot tub, dirty movies playing in the background.

The Bennett Bay Inn is notable for its unique theme rooms, including the frilly Garden and Victorian suites, the Ocean Room, the Roman Room, the Hawaiian Room and my favorite, the cozy Jungle Room with it’s luscious ferns and stuffed dead parrot. The Galaxy room is custom-built for Sci-Fi geeks in love, complete with Star Trek paraphernalia, glow-in-the-dark solar system stickers and like each of the theme suites, a huge old-school Jacuzzi, not a skimpy little jetted bath.

The “Presidential Suite” of the Bennett Bay Inn is the wood-paneled Montana Room, the largest room at the inn and the only one with a fireplace. It has a giant, 500-gallon hot tub and a living room with a spectacular view of the lake, although the vibe is more Cabella’s clearance sale than it is rustic mountain cabin. There’s also an outdoor pool so you can refresh yourself between hot tub sessions, and an on-site c-store in case you run low on Zima and Kool Lights.

Roll east to Wallace and book a night or two at the Molly B’Damn Motel, named after the beloved nurse-prostitute folk-hero who once charmed everyone in the greater Wallace area, well, at least the men, with her strawberry locks, Irish charm, and Shakespearian wit. She died young trying to save her people from typhoid, and she was legendary in the sack, so the Silver Valley perpetually honors her memory.

Appropriate then, that the Molly B’Damn Motel seems like it has experienced more than it’s fair share of disease and debauchery over the years. It’s nothing fancy, faded red velvet bedspreads and white ruffles vaguely evoking the original B’Damn style, but it makes for a good home base to check out cool Wallace stuff like the Bordello Museum, Sixth Street Melodrama and the massive quantity of saloons and bars all within a tiny four block radius.

Slightly higher on the fancy scale is Bayview’s Dromore Manor, a Bed and Breakfast with a Victorian theme and a cotton-candy pink exterior that’s half Tim Burton and half Hello Kitty. The romantic “Rose Room” is definitely for couples, with a giant 4-poster bed nestled in between bay windows overlooking an awe-inspiring view of Lake Pend Oreille. If your staycation companion isn’t exactly your bed-buddy, the “Willow Room” has twin feather beds and enough elegant frou-frou to suit both Queen Victoria herself as well as posh Victoria Beckham.

Providing an even better celebrity hideaway is the Manor’s “Lilac Cottage”, a detached, very private hut which overlooks the lake and can be rented by the week. Breakfast can be enjoyed overlooking the lake out on the veranda and is made “with personal attention to your dietary requirements.” Pop Tarts and Gatorade?

For the ultimate affordable getaway, don’t go anywhere at all. Hang a “go away” sign on your door, put on your comfiest sweats and settle in your living room for a few days of do-nothing laziness. Order meals for delivery – King Pizza is the best local option for a hot pie, but Pita Pit never fails to hit the spot and Domino’s is even delivering Haagen-Dazs ice cream now, so there goes any reason to leave the house. Have a “National Lampoon’s Vacation” movie fest, including the classic Chevy Chase original and all four sequels, from “European” to “Christmas” to “Vegas” to the direct-to-video “Christmas 2: Cousin Eddie’s Island Adventure.”

Run a cold bath but don’t get in, just sit next to it in a folding lounge chair wearing your swim gear and sunglasses listening to Brazillian jazz, sipping Mai Tais and reading People magazine. When was the last time you actually sat and put together a jigsaw puzzle? Better yet, figure out ways to turn Scrabble or Operation into drinking games, then dust off the disco records and boogie the night away whilst flipping the light switch on and off really fast for that strobe light effect. It might not be the same as week in the south of France, but you won’t have to spend a cent on gas or airfare, and the locals are much friendlier.

Monday, June 23, 2008

Chicago Joe's Espresso & More

Chicago Joe's Espresso & More
611 W Appleway Ave.
Coeur D Alene
(208) 667-6346

Get Out reader Dog Guy recently left a comment on an older post totally raving about the dogs at Chicago Joe's on West Appleway in Cd'A. Funny, because Q. points at the place all the time when we drive by there and freaks out "Oh my Gawd you have GOT to try one of those hot dogs, they are SO good!" Okay, okay, folks. I'm convinced. I'll be there next time I'm craving a nice big wiener. Probably have better luck there than at Mik-n-Mac's, har har. Anyway, I can't see doing a full print review of a tiny hut, so for now I will let Dog Guy's words speak for themselves:
The most orgasmic experience one can have and still have it considered a legal act in the state of Idaho is the hedonistic consumption of a genuine Chicago Dog.

I don't remember the name of the place, but it is located about midway between Paddy's and Lowes on Appleway, same side of the street. It is a drive through coffee stand, brownish in color. You should see a banner advertising, "Viena Beef" hot dogs.

Do yourself a favor, don't drive through. To truly experience a great dog, you have to park your vehicle and order from the window. Step two is to rest your soda on your trunk lid and then consume your Chicago Dog in large, glutenous bites, standing upright in the sunlight. Even better is to have a vehicle with a tailgate and sit there with your legs dangling over and trying not to let any of the "must have" nuclear green relish dribble onto your feet.

Make sure to order the Chicago Dog all-the-way. You won't regret it!

Here is a link to what a Chicago Dog is all about.


(Bonus - they serve some obscure brand of chips from Oregon(?). They are the bomb too!)

Also, I just discovered what scoopity-scoop artist Nils Rosdahl had to say about Chicago Joe's last month in his SR column (see below). Sounds like the real deal to me. Suddenly I feel an urgency...(cue growling tummy)...

"These dogs have snap!"

That's the positive summation a caller made of the hot dogs at Chicago Joe's, a glorified former espresso stand at 611 W. Appleway, just west of the Carpet Warehouse. She said previously Coeur d'Alene didn't have a good hot dog, but these include optional (with no additional cost) mustard, relish, onions, a pickle spear, tomato wedges, sport peppers (really hot) and celery salt on a poppy seed bun.

Owner Tom Hayes, who came from Chicago last fall, said his dogs are Vienna beef with a natural casing. They're $3.75.

"There's 1,800 of these hot dog stands in the Chicago area," he said.

He also offers four breakfast options, Polish and German sausages, BLT burritos, Italian beef sandwiches, chili, clam chowder, a soup of the day and many beverages. He'll be adding meatball and sausage sandwiches.

The drive-up stand is open from 6 a.m. to 6 p.m. weekdays, and from 8 a.m. to 6 p.m. Saturdays and Sundays (later in the summer). Hayes will be adding picnic tables and lights.

Nine Silly Questions: Jenny McLeod

Jenny McLeod is my most fab cubicle neighbor ever but she flat-out refused to let me take her pic for this post. So, since she's really digs turtles for some reason, and has them coming out the wazoo (erm, at least her desk does), here's a nice turtle photo instead.

1. Which North Idaho establishment serves to most delicious burgers and what makes them so great?

Thad's at the Flying J near Stateline. Nice and greasy. Super good if you're hung over.

2. What’s your favorite local place to go out on the town for a few drinks, maybe some live music or dancing and what do you like about it?


I like Chillers. Cheap beer, cheap booze and let's not forget about the cheap women! The bands aren't always good, but you're drunk, so who cares?

3. Who serves the best breakfast in North Idaho and what are you most likely to order when you go there?

Rustler's Roost, of course. I love their fried potatoes.

4. What is your favorite type of Asian cuisine and which area restaurant serves it up the best and why do you think so? What do you like to order?


We won't go to anywhere in town. My favorite Chinese Place is Peking North in Spokane. I always order the combo plate thet has EVERYTHING on it.

5. Which area Mexican restaurant is the best and why do you think so? What do you like to order?


Toro Viejo in downtown Cd'A. I love their nachos and their huge glasses of beer.

6. What’s your favorite North Idaho activity that requires little or no money but provides a whole day of fun and entertainment?


Going for a nice drive up the Coeur d'Alene River.

7. Where was the worst dining experience you’ve had at a local restaurant/lounge and what was so rotten about it?


Tomato Street was terrible. We found hair in our food and the service was terrible.

8. Someone offers to but you a drink. What do you order and why?


A shot of tequila and a beer chaser cuz that's just how I roll!

9. What place, restaurant or otherwise, do you take out-of-town visitors to leave them with a good impression of North Idaho?

Tony's or Wolf Lodge for lake and steak .

Saturday, June 21, 2008

Tomato Street

Tomato Street Italian Restaurant
221 W Appleway Ave.
,
Coeur d'Alene
(208) 667-5000
www.tomatostreet.com

The experience can border on sensory overload. It’s like Halloween and Christmas rolled into one and served with a side of Carnivale. It’s like Disney bought the entire nation of Italy and somehow managed to condense it into an Americanized theme park that fits inside one modestly sized building. It’s enjoyably chaotic, like what one might imagine a trip to the Alberto Zoppè Family Circus might be like under the influence of mild hallucinogens, but with attractive young waitresses and waiters in silly hats instead of clowns and lion tamers. It’s a visit to Coeur d’Alene’s perennially popular family Italian eatery Tomato Street, a long-time local favorite which sits amidst the glut of drive-through joints on Appleway’s fast food row.
Normally, I’m not that hot on places that use such disorderly interior motifs and wacky service tactics. I always wonder if they’re forcing such wild haberdashery to try and distract from the fact that the food itself isn’t all that great. In the past, I’ve been openly cynical about Tomato Street mainly due to my intolerance for cutesy moves like how the wait staff wears jester’s caps and tiaras and will actually sit down and join your table like a long lost pal to take your order. I’m usually turned off as well by such hackneyed décor choices like the thousands of twinkling multi-colored lights, crooked-hung posters of famous Italian people and places, cans of tomato paste, and a claustrophobia of knick knacks and other ephemera that threatens to dislodge from somewhere far above and cause a concussion.

Staff levels seem to run confusingly high, with literally dozens of hosts, servers, and bussers bouncing off each other and the walls, adding to the trapped-in-a-pinball-game vibe. Toss in to the confusion a gaggle of screaming kiddies armed with Crayolas and Play-doh and an ever-bottlenecked lobby filled with parties of nine waiting to be sat and you’ve got the formula for a place this peace-and-quiet-loving diner would most likely be inclined to avoid.

Even still, I’d heavily recommend Tomato Street to anyone; the quality of the food and service overwhelmingly trumps the mad atmosphere. I learned a few visits ago that the trick is to get a table in the small lounge area near the lobby, where one can usually sneak right in with zero wait time. It’s strictly a place for grown-ups and with a full liquor bar and a killer happy hour, it’s a place where grown-ups occasionally act like children. Also, it’s the realm of Miss Theresa, a smiling girl with a wonderfully crazy electric-shock hairdo and one of the coolest booze-slingers in town. Recently, it was a pal’s last night in town before moving away so we decided to drop into the Tomato Street lounge to gorge ourselves together one last time. “Aw guys, you’re going to be so disappointed –I’m just getting ready to split” explained Theresa when we walked in. “Tell you what though, I’ll leave you in the capable hands of my girl Mandy” she said before waving bye-bye, “she’ll take real good care of you.”

Realistically, it was a little early to start hitting the hard stuff, so we ordered a Diet Pepsi, an ironic choice considering the amount of intensely caloric food we were about to consume. Right away, I asked Mandy to recommend an appetizer to get things started and without hesitation she said “You’ve got to try the “Carne Bollas”, they’re delicious.” Now, I’m no expert at Italian but the loose translation “beef balls” flashed through my head along with visions of that infamous, frightening delicacy Rocky Mountain Oysters. Mandy must have sensed my worry. “They’re just meatballs baked in pizza dough and served with dipping sauces.” “OK, sounds good” I said and turned my attention to the rest of the menu.

Why I bother even looking I don’t know, because I always end up ordering my most favorite dish, the same thing I always order if it happens to appear on the menu: the rich, delectable Seafood Fettuccini. Still, there were plenty of other perfectly tempting options. I probably ought to have chosen the reasonably healthful option of a salad, maybe a Raspberry Poppy Seed Salad, with the promise of fresh strawberries, tender chicken, feta and candied walnuts. I would have been fine with a “smashed sandwich” on fresh foccacia bread or a chunk of the obscenely cheese-filled Baked Spaghetti. But, no; it’s the Seafood Fettuccini I was craving the most and it’s fairly rare I get the chance to indulge, so indulge I decided to do.

In quick succession, Mandy brought our dinner salads, our appetizer and our meals. Theresa was right; she was golden; attentive and friendly, spoiling us with piles of much-needed extra napkins, grinding fresh pepper on our salads and dropping off new Diet Pepsis before we’d even finished our old ones. Naturally, I had to raid the plates of my dining partners; The Tomato’s Calzone was massive, resembling a large pizza folded in half, stuffed to the max with meat and cheese and a chewy crust done so good it squeaked between my teeth. The other friend kindly let me try a full slice of his Formaggio Chicken pizza, which was mind-bogglingly perfect, cooked in their apple-wood-fired brick oven and loaded with 5 cheeses, garlic sauce, artichoke hearts and sun-dried tomatoes. Entire religions have been founded on lesser miracles; it was the best pizza I’ve tasted in years.

Of course, by the time I got done with nibbling on the appetizer, the salad, the garlic bread and sampling my friends’ meals, I was nearly too stuffed to dig in to my main course. Still, it was rich and buttery, not overly heavy, with tender scallops, mammoth prawns, Manilla clams, both diced and in-shell and calamari rings that were done perfectly right and not chewy. Scrumptious as usual, but I only made it about five bites in before I had to surrender and get a to-go box. Actually, it was just as terrific, maybe even better the second time around later, as a middle-of-the-night snack in the bleary glow of TV infomercials. I was so food comatose and content, I almost ordered a new Ronco Showtime Rotisserie.

Wednesday, June 18, 2008

Get Out Mailbag: Deluxe June Edition

Dear Get Out,
I enjoyed your last article on the Rustlers Roost, a place my wife and I visit for a quiet breakfast when for some miracle the kids are not around. I also enjoy the ambience of the Roost where a fella can feel he has found the real, old west as soon as the door shuts out the outside reality.

Another hole-in-the-wall place, with such similar sensations as soon as you enter, is just around the corner on Hayden Ave. I know you don't write about places like this, but for a personal experience that you will surly enjoy, try Papa's Barber just down the street from the now defunct Rock Joint. Same side of the road and just past Reed St. It is in a building with a few other local businesses and marked with a small sign and the standard red and blue barber pole.

One step inside and you begin to understand that things run on a different plane than the outside world. Real country music greets your ears, most of which I don't care for but in the surrounding setting is perfectly delightful! Plush couches await you if the barber chairs are occupied. On the coffee table are Old West magazines that should be kept in plastic and sold at a high price on E-Bay, but instead are scattered about for all to enjoy. I curse the fact that I have been recently ushered into the chair immediately and was not given the time to read any high stakes outlaw adventures.

Once in the chair another dilemma arises. You have to hold still and there is so much unique decor to look at. In fact, a person might think they were in a room somewhere in the back of the Rustler's Roost. The haircut itself is usually done by Becky, or her sister and is a very precise work of art. My style is a very short military cut. They use mostly clippers and a comb with such detail it looks like they used a level to acquire the lines when finished. At the end is my favorite part of the visit. Following warm foam around your ears and neck, a straight razor touches up the precision. Then a good old handful of Old Spice like alcohol is applied. It's scent swirls around you mixing with the music and takes you to a place where you are glad you were born a male. I am usually left with strange sensations, like the need to put on my old pair of cowboy boots or smoke a cigar.

Before you leave the chair a old fashion hand vibrator is produced and is run across your shoulders, neck and head leaving you so relaxed you want to crawl over to the couch and take a quick nap. Bring cash as they don't take plastic. The last time I was in there I forgot they didn't take a card and had no cash. "No problem." "Get it to me when you can", I was told. I went straight to my banks ATM after and brought back a twenty. Not to many places like this anymore.

Shawn Bennett.

Dear Shawn,
Your letter was great, strangely erotic even like a cross between the Rathdrum Star and Penthouse Forum. Sounds like you had quite an experience with Becky and her sister, what parts of the story are you leaving out, eh? Just kidding. Actually, I'm tired of buzzing my own skull and I don't always do the most even job so it might behoove me to pop in and check it out, even though country music makes me squirm and the smell of Old Spice makes me gag. Maybe they've got something a bit more my taste, like a nice warm vanilla. Anyway, I think the place you're taking about is called "Papa's Barber Shop" at 868 W. Hayden Ave. Question: Is Papa himself aware of all the naughty, steamy shaving and trimming antics that take place under his roof?


Dear Get Out,
We just wanted to thank you for your wonderful review of our little Deli. Bob has been in the food business since his teen years but always as the food and beverage director for large hotels. "Herbie's" is his dream come true as now he can use all of his creativity while developing the soups, salads, salad dressings and sandwiches. You must try one of his 3 kinds of Foccacia bread. on your next visit! "Herbie's" is actually named after my late father who coined the phrase "MIghty Salubrious"after having a delicious meal prepared by Bob.

We will look forward to seeing you again soon and oh, by the way, Rebecca, our server is getting a raise!!

Bob and Melanie Black
Herbie's Deli Shop

Dear Bob and Melanie,
I must say it makes me feel pretty good to know I was partly responsible for Rebecca's raise. Certainly, she is worth it - her service was remarkable. In addition to the column, I've told a ton of people about your place and I'm surprised how many folks had driven by a million times but never stopped in. Although some might bemoan the fact I've given away the secret about their favorite little unknown deli and now I've ruined it by sending newbies onto their territory. Forget it, Herbie's deserves to be huge and at the top of everyone's radar. Amazingly affordable for such incredible home-made fare.



Dear Get Out,
Regarding your review of Chinese Gardens in the Handle Extra, is that the funny looking green house with the dragon by the mailbox? Sort of where you'd turn to go to Costco? What are the prices like?
Thanks, Laurie in Hayden

Dear Laurie,
Not to be overly catty, but I'm sure you've heard of Google. Use it. Or maybe you're the catty one, pointing out how my editors always choose not to publish the address of places in my reviews. If that's the case, I agree - I always include the address when I submit them. Anyway, I think the green dragon house you speak of is actually the residence of a small tribe of Oompa-loompas. Also, Chinese Gardens' prices are fair, but I still feel the portions are only adequate for the money - I always like to walk out with a to-go box and at CG, I never do.
Actual prices can be found on the VERY COOL Chinese Gardens website.



Dear Get Out,
This is (Restaurant X Owner), the owner of (Restaurant X). I know I am a little biased but I must tell you that I believe the Iron Horse is the WORST restaurant I have ever been to. For some reason my memory didn't kick in and I went there on Saturday at 10:00 am for breakfast. I was the only one in the place. That tells you something right there. I was greeted by an unfriendly hostess with the message to sit any where I wanted. The server proceeded to come up to my table and stand there with pad in hand and say nothing. Just looked at me. I ordered and he brought the food and set down the ticket, never to be seen again. The food was awful. I wouldn't feed my dog that crap. I read that (the Iron Horse) sent you a nasty e-mail (regarding a recent Get Out column.) My message to them would be the truth hurts. If they didn't have the building free and clear and be pouring a ton of booze to the 20 some year old crowd, they would not make it.

At (Restaurant X) we are far from perfect. We make mistakes. But we try to learn from them and get better. If a customer tells me they have a bad experience, I try to do what I can to correct it. Because in they end, customers are the ones paying the bills. They are the boss and I try to never forget that.

Take Care,
(Restaurant X Owner)

Dear (Restaurant X Owner)
I didn't want to include your name because it's not relevant, but your point speaks for itself. I've been to your place many times and each time was memorable and spectacular. I've been to Iron Horse to eat once in the same time period and had such a bad experience I vowed to never return. They've told me not to mention their name in the future, so of course I'm going to pop in some random day and time with a completely open mind and give them the Get Out treatment here (blog only). Who knows, could turn out to be a fabulous experience...



Dear Get Out,
New bar, "Oddballz!" Grand opening was last weekend with live music on Fri and we had Jello wrestling on Sat. Upcoming this weekend:

Friday: Mystery out dart tournament (blind draw) followed by DJ music.

Saturday: Live Rock N Roll with Run A Muck!!!

Check us out,
Oddballz
Dear Oddballz,
Does the live Rock-n-Roll band run a muck in the Jello too? Doesn't that get kind of slippery? What about electrocution, or does that explain the hair? How do you wash green Jello stains out of fried bleach blonde hair and Camaro seats? Oxyclean?

Saturday, June 14, 2008

Rustler's Roost

Rustler’s Roost
9627 N. Highway 95, Hayden.

Seventeen years worth of dust seems to powder much of the Old West themed bric-a-brac that decorates the lofty wooden crannies and clutter corners of the Rustler’s Roost. The exterior’s once-bright red paint job is washed out and the building itself seems slightly gimpy, causing the place to take on the appearance of a well-weathered barn rather than that of one of North Idaho’s proudest, most famous eateries. Bulldozers have recently begun pushing around dirt in the lot adjacent to the current location, the first evidence of the future direction of the Roost, a place that will be their first brand-new, built-from-scratch location ever and their fourth overall. It’s the latest segment in a long history which, despite the relocations, has actually seen very few overall changes food-wise and aesthetically. Given the similarly down-home vibes of past locations, I have high hopes they’ll find a way to carry the Roost’s comfortingly dingy ambience over into the new building.

Perhaps it is getting a bit frazzled, but the Hayden location has served the Roost well since 1991. I remember vividly the shock and horror when owners Woody and Daren McEvers announced they were abandoning downtown Coeur d’Alene location and moving north for cheaper rent. The closure of the mega-popular gathering spot caused the demise of countess Coeur d’Alene subcultures, and created a hole in the fabric of downtown life that dozens of uppity cafes and jazzy wine bars still can’t replace.

Those who followed Woody and the gang up US-95 discovered right away that the physical location of the Roost was thankfully the only perceptible change. The labyrinthine building which once held a retro-futuristic spaghetti house had been re-formatted as a trip back in time to a wild-west ghost town. Suddenly, the 7-mile trip to Hayden never seemed so long as on a Sunday morning with a snarly tummy and an irrepressible craving for a “famous country breakfast”.

There were quite a few of us Pike Street Tea addicts who had no choice but to make the transition, needing desperately to feel the familiar squeeze of the plastic honey bottle and the steamy warmth of the sweet, spicy brew drifting up into our cold faces. A few of the long-time waitresses made the transition as well and amazingly, some remain to this day. If serving tables was a degree-earning skill, these ladies would all hold double doctorates – they’re incredibly down to Earth, fast as heck, and charming even in foul moods, yours or theirs.

On a recent weekend morning visit, the lobby was in its usual elbow-to-elbow state and Woody was running the chaotic show at the front counter. Despite the mad hungry throng, Woody was calm as can be, answering folks who asked about the wait time with a smile and a vague “Oh, not much time at all…” Realistically, the wait can be anywhere from five to twenty minutes, and is certainly worth it, but he probably knew that if he said specifically “fifteen minutes”, a lot of people might not stick around for a table. As we sat waiting, I had to point and chuckle at the irony of the “Lose Weight Fast” CD on display for sale in the waiting area – I wondered how many they sell to miserably full regretful dieters on their way out.

We were seated by Woody himself, who wiped our table and apologized for the wait, rolling his eyes and saying “Sorry guys, must be the all rain today that’s bringing all these people in here.” Funny, seems like it’s busy like that pretty much every time I drop in, rain or shine.

Many people know that Woody moonlights as a Coeur d’Alene City Councilman, but few realize that he’s also the Governor of Great Gravy. Or at least, that’s what we decided he is, the original mastermind behind such intense breakfast situations as the Wrangler, the Maverick or the Bull Rider, which are two eggs, home fried potatoes, biscuits and that awe-inspiring gravy served with, respectively, piles of bacon, sausage or beef patties. The Oakland Special is a ham and veggie egg-scramble, the Redneck is a three biscuit whammy, and even the Lightweight is actually pretty heavy.

Long-time customers don’t even fuss with a menu, knowing exactly what to ask for: “Wagon Master please, eggs over easy, extra gravy.” Portions are humongous, and most breakfasts come spread delightfully across two or three separate plates. The hotcakes here are bigger than the platter they come on, and the hot cinnamon roll automatically comes with a to-go box since no-one can finish a whole one without croaking.

Rustler’s Roost is also worth checking out for their excellent diner-style lunches, some featuring their wonderful tangy original2 BBQ sauce, like the fresh grilled burgers, smothered roast beef sandwiches, and thick slices of pit ham. Noontime classics abound like tuna melts, BLTs, and you can even get your fix of comfort foods like liver & onions and meatloaf, served mom-style with mashed potatoes and a green salad.

I elected to go with the Rustler’s Special, an old stand-by which is the same three-egg combo as above with chicken fried steak. We realized with awe that their already-incredible biscuits had somehow grown larger and become flakier, and the gravy was addictive as ever, perfect atop every portion of the meal, even the sublime scrambled eggs. The home fries were as good as they’ve been consistently since the 80’s, small potatoes sliced into circles and fried flavorfully dark.

My only minor complaint this time was that the chicken-fried steak was noticeably different than usual, as if they’d run out of fresh cube steak and had to use perhaps a frozen, Salisbury-steak sort of thing. It was a little on the rubbery side, but just fine, especially after I smothered it with enough dank gravy to justify ordering myself a nice Lipitor for dessert.

Sunday, June 8, 2008

Retro Review: Bonsai Bistro

Bonsai Bistro
101 E. Sherman Ave
Coeur d'Alene
765-4321
www.bonsaibistro.com

(You may have noticed there was no new Get Out column yesterday. I actually got the week off due to the fact that the Handle Extra wasn't published in order to run the Spokesman-Review's annual High School Graduates section. So I decided to dig deep into the archives and re-run a classic review I wrote over t
hree years ago for the old making Flippy Floppy blog right after Bonsai Bistro first opened. I wasn't very impressed. Since becoming published, I've been avoiding reviewing Hagadone Corp. establishments for several reasons but back then I sure wasn't afraid to let 'em have it...)

Not to be overly crass, but to me the most amazing thing about the new Bonsai Bistro restaurant was how they got rid rid of that assy smell. Anyone who ever worked at this former bank/bomb shelter during its incarnation as Dakotah Direct (which I had the misfortune of doing for three years) will know what I mean. For years, the interior of this building was filled with an odor that can only be described as: grade A ass. This was an unfortunate side effect of a poor ventilation system in a call center filled with an endless succession of patricularly sweaty and expressive asses. It was an odor that lingered here for a long time, and something that everyone assumed was here to stay.


Yet somehow, through the miracle of Hagadone, that assy smell is gone. Long before Dakotah Direct went the way of the mastodon, Duane Hagadone had plans for this ugly little building. Or, to be more accurate, it was his wife Lola (who, by the way, I adore) that had the brainstorm of turning it into a "Pan-Asian" restaurant, inspired by some place she had seen while skipping around the globe on thier yacht, the Lady Lola. Mrs. H pulled a few chefs and some management from her hubby's other restaurants and put together a team to realize her "concept." After a month or two of letting the place air out, it opened with the usual outrageous amount of hype that is heaped on anything Hagadone.

People came in droves to see what they had done to the place, which I will admit, was rather impressive. The decor is very California, with an array of boring but tasteful beiges and browns with typical faux-asian (bamboo) highlights. The impressive part to me is the little koi pond that was installed right into the floor, which adds an aura of tranquility to the place. Although, it might be a bit uncomfortable to enjoy your sushi with an innocent koi giving you googly-eyes.

After less-than-delightful experiences at other Hagadone places (poor service, overpriced, small portions), I was actually planning on avoiding the Bonsai Bistro forever, but my father suggested the place for my birthday lunch and I thought "If he's paying why not?" After the initial shock and amazement that the assy smell was gone, I settled into the menu. Ouch! This was no cheap and easy Chinese joint, that's for sure. The menu was filled with items whose descriptions made them sound delicious, but that also seemed a little bit "forced". In other words, the menu was irritatingly pretentious as if it were written exclusivly to impress tourists with its "big city gourmet" selections.

Even more stunningly impressive was the fact they had the nerve to charge these kinds of prices. It takes a lot of cajones to charge six dollars for a little bowl of edamame (steamed soybeans), or almost seven dollars for a damn egg roll. Ah, but this is "gourmet", of course. We gladly pay extra for that fake Hagadone "ambience." I was kind of embarrassed that my dad was going to have to pay such a huge bill, so I ordered "cheap" (General Tso's chicken for around $14.95).

Our perfectly adequate but instantly forgettable waitress showed up and began fiddling around with some sauces on our table, creating a bowl of what she referred to as the "house sauce" which, I think was just soy sauce with some hot mustard and cocktail sauce mixed in. The way she went about this task was too cutesy, as if she were letting us in on a little secret, and this was our exclusive little wonder sauce. Well, the effect was ruined when I saw her making the same sauce for the next table. Our secret super sauce remained untouched by both myself and my dad for the entire meal.

The waitress took our order and brought us our drinks. For some reason, everytime I order a regular Pepsi in a Hagadone place they bring me a diet instead. "Oh, I always do that!" she said as she quickly did a switcheroo. I'm beginning to think this is part of thier act, that they are trained to do this. The food arrived. General Tso's chicken is not something I normally order at a Chinese place, but I always get it when I'm in Seattle from the fast food Chinese joint on Broadway (Magic Dragon, I think). There, the Gerenal Tso's is a dark, spicy affair with red peppers and covered in sesame seeds, a heaping order for six bucks. Delicious. Here, at the Bonsai Bistro, the General Tso's chicken is eight and half boring pieces of lightly tempura'd chicken cooked only to the point of barely done-ness and covered in a bland glaze that tastes vaguely orangey. The menu had an exclamation point next to the dish, indicating that there would some kick to it. However, there were no exclamation points in the actual food, only question marks. Did they run out of glaze? Is there a fryer oil shortage? Is the chef high on Valium? How can they charge 15 bucks for this?

Even after finishing the few bites of plain white rice that was served with the chicken, I was still hungry. Yet again I had fallen victim to the Hagadone curse: lots of hype for nothing, and small portions that are jaw-droppingly overpriced. To be fair, I did not get a chance to sample thier sushi, which I've heard is great and worth the price (my father would have gotten queasy at the sight of raw fish - he's a meat and potoatoes kind of guy.) Actually, I was surprised when my dad announced that his stir-fry was delicious and filling and to his credit, he never complained once about the bill. I reminded him that our poor waitress was being paid $3.00/hr or so by old Mr. H, and so he tipped her 10 bucks, our good deed for the day.

Overall, the most impressive aspect of this place is the amazing ass-free transformation of the interior. As for the food and value, I was not overly impressed. However, like the other Hagadone restaurants, the place will likely thrive on unknowing tourists who are suckered in by the hype, and on transplanted Californians, homesick for an overpriced taste of pretentiousness. Rating: Ambience 8/10 Food 3/10