Café Bella Rosa

Café Bella Rosa
213 Sherman Ave., Coeur d’Alene
(208) 667-9640

"The New Age? It's just the old age stuck in a microwave oven for fifteen seconds." ~ James Randi

Our initiation into the world Café Bella Rosa was fraught with awkwardness. A recent newspaper article had left me with the impression that along with the vowel change, the new owners of the former Bella Rose were “spicing it up” with an array of menu items from south of the border. In other words, I was pretty much expecting a full-on Mexican restaurant, and had hyped it up as such to my lunch partner. We had chips-n-salsa, enchiladas, and chile rellenos on the brain, and our tummies were rumbling hungrily at the idea.

So when we sauntered in and were greeted by a sparse deli case housing a few sandwiches, pastries and packages of string cheese, we looked at each other with confusion in our eyes. Where was the Mexican part of this alleged Mexican eatery? “Albacore Tuna and Herb Mayo” read the placard in front of a pile of sandwiches. Not especially Mexican. “Cranberry Chutney and Turkey” read another. Definitely not Mexican. “Look, the bread is like a thick bun of some kind, maybe they’re Mexican sandwiches”, I theorized, grappling for an explanation. Not that they didn’t look good and tasty, they just weren’t quite what we had in mind. The only wall menu listed a variety of coffee drinks, but offered no further clues.

“A-ha, a breakfast burrito,” pointed out my friend, “maybe that’s as close as it gets.” Meanwhile, the counter girl had created another slightly awkward moment by making us wait to inquire about the apparent lack of options while she put together someone’s large order of fruit smoothies. She apologized kindly for the wait, but it still felt odd standing there tapping our toes for several long minutes, our heads full of questions and our appetites raging.

My friend pointed out a box of one-sheet menus on the wall, but looking it over didn’t help much to clarify things. It did broaden our options slightly to include a few salads and paninis, but still no Mexican, and there weren’t any prices printed anywhere. Not helpful at all.

Then I saw it, a special-of-the-day sign hiding in plain sight in front of us suggesting the idea of Mexican Sopes, two for six dollars. Bingo, a moment of clarity in the mental fog of decision. Having finally finished making the smoothies, our girl returned to answer my questions and take our order. She explained that they’re still basically in transition and are waiting the purchase of new kitchen equipment before they really ramp up the Mexican side of things. Meanwhile, owner and chef Alex Galindo will be featuring a different item every day as a kind of preview of what’s to come.

“Okay, I’ll take it,” I said pointing to the daily special. We found a table near the back of the spacious, provincially decorated room and while we waited for our lunches to arrive, we discussed the weirdness of Bella Rosa’s ceiling, which looks like a cross between a freshly-tilled patch of dirt and the surface of a distant uninhabited planet.

My food arrived five minutes before my partner’s did, and although the place isn’t really set up as a formal dining affair, the bad timing created more weirdness. Still, I’m rude and sort of mean, so I didn’t let the fact that my dear starving friend was as green with envy as salsa verde stop me from digging right in.

A "sope" is a traditional Mexican dish made with various toppings covering an “antojito”, which is like a thicker, smaller tortilla made with lime-soaked masa and gently fried. My plate came with two of these, topped with marinated chicken, tomatoes, avocados, onions, peppers, crema Mexicana, and a sprinkle of shredded cheese, along with a smear of beans that I can only describe as “creamy”. The sopes were remarkably tasty, a terrific marriage of flavors and the accompanying salad of fresh greens was a delight as well.

I had inhaled the majority of my lunch by the time my friend’s breakfast burrito arrived, and unfortunately he was not terribly impressed, saying that it tasted fair to middling, but that it suffered from being “killed to death in the microwave”. Hopefully, the microwave will go out of commission when the new kitchen gear arrives.

I couldn’t escape without nabbing a few cookies to go. The first was a bright pink Mexican sugar cookie, which was nice, but it paled next to the “Grandma Jarrow’s No-Bake Chocolate Oatmeal” specimen. It was the best no-bake cookie I’ve ever eaten, huge, richly chocolatey, and stuffed with chunks of real peanuts, making it number 425 on my list of cookies I can’t live without.

Café Bella Rosa seems to be in transition, and during former life as Bella Rose, I always heard great things about the sandwiches, soups, and salads. I can only assume that hasn’t changed a bit. After fully enjoying the one Mexican dish on offer that day, I am anxious to return for more once the transition is complete.

Donut House

Donut House
1801 Lincoln Way, Cd’A
109 W. Kathleen Cd’A
8761 N. Government Way, Hayden

“Between the optimist and the pessimist, the difference is droll. The optimist sees the doughnut; the pessimist the hole!” ~ Oscar Wilde

I guess it’s time I finally made a confession. Four years ago, I totally stiffed the Donut House out of eighteen cents. A friend and I were driving up Government Way in Hayden one bleary day, when fate suddenly dropped a pale yellow home in front of us and it had a simple and irresistible sign: “Donut House”. We staggered, zombielike, inside and loaded our tray with 5000 calories worth of baked goods and lattes. When I handed the cashier my debit card, she said “cash only, baby”, so we rifled through wallets, pockets and car seats until we had almost, but not quite enough coins to cover it.

“No worries,” she told me after I asked her to forget about one of the fruit-filled burritos and presented her with a huge handful of dirty nickels. “Just give us the eighteen cents next time you drop by.” I fully intended to return, not just to even up my tab, but because the doughnuts were addictively fresh and perfect. I haven’t a clue why I never did, but in recent months I’ve been replacing maple bars with carrot sticks and avoiding such places.

The Donut House had returned to the fat cells of my mind recently after I saw owners Matt and April Gross on the news talking about how they were giving a full day’s doughnut money to help the recovery effort in Haiti. I decided to put my vegetable tendencies on temporary hold status and see if their evil doughy treats were as remarkable as I recalled.

In the last several years, their Hayden operation moved out of the little yellow house and down the street into a more sensible spot and they’ve opened two Coeur d’Alene locations, including the Lincoln Way unit where I chose to indulge. The atmosphere of the place is stark and welcoming simultaneously, with sparse walls and a handful of tables spruced up with a warm streak of handmade Americana.

It was certainly comfortable enough for a group of chatty retirees who looked like they’d been there sipping on coffee since before the sun even had a chance to peel off its Breathe Right nasal strips. I’d imagine every rack in the doughnut case would have been stocked if I’d arrived as early as these folks, but it was mid-morning and the possibilities had been consolidated down to just a couple of trays.

Still, there was quite a variety of items left to choose from, and like kittens in a pet store window, they were all so adorable I wanted to adopt them all. But too many cats will destroy the carpet and too many glazed delights will destroy the midriff, so I narrowed it down to two. “That’s all?” the clerk queried in a tone of voice that suggested I’d be letting her down if I said yes, so I was forced to pick one more. I couldn’t bear the thought of leaving her sad.

I grabbed a bottle of Sobe Orange-Carrot Juice from the mini-cooler, paid up and hovered off with my waxed paper bag of joy. I was nearly home before I realized I’d been in such a carb trance that I’d completely spaced the idea of squaring up my wee-but-nagging debt from four years earlier. They don’t need to fret too much about it. Now that they have a location within my realm of convenience, Donut House will be the first place I run next time I have a willpower meltdown and am feeling blue from eating too many greens.

These guys aren’t throwing any shade when it comes to doughnuts; they’re expertly made and supremely memorable. My bear claw was texturally delicate like a sweet cloud of dough with dustings of brown sugar candy and magic fairy dust. I didn’t realize I was in for a bonus until my third bite, when surprise apple filling came oozing out. The filling was obviously made from scratch; it was too angelic to have ever lived in some ratty tin can.

My plain doughnut with maple and chopped nuts was like a mini unbirthday cake. Moist and not overly sweet, much of the flavor came from the topcoat of maple glaze, balancing out the more subtle impact of the doughnut itself.

French crullers are my favorite and I’d chosen one with hot pink icing. It was a big specimen; I nearly had to unhinge my jaw like a viper to take a bite. Crullers sometimes come with a filmy oiliness that lingers on the tongue, but this one was slime free and perfectly chewy. I was amazed at how the icing tasted exactly like pink, but I couldn’t determine a specific, nameable flavor. It was fun for the mouth, like a fantasy sequence starring two classic county fair staples, cotton candy and elephant ears.

Banish your guilt; Donut House doughnuts are nearly impossible to regret.

Get Out! Best of North Idaho 2007

It seems like 2007 disappeared faster than a fresh tray of Kung Pao Chicken at the Top of China Buffet. It’s already that time of year again when we all look back and reflect a bit on the last twelve months: the good and the hard times, the gourmet meals and the rotten corn dogs, the nights out and the days spent recovering from them. It’s a good time to take note of some of the highlights of the past year in the local food, music and arts scene. So without further ado, I present to you my completely arbitrary, random list of things that made it tolerable to live in North Idaho during 2007.

Most Creative Local Rock Band: Coeur d’Alene’s Kite have been amazing Inland Northwest audiences for over ten years with a sound that is distinctly soaring and melodic with an intriguingly artsy air. I caught them earlier this year at a benefit gig and was awed by the urgency and intense display of creative energy these guys seem to effortlessly conjure up. The band is currently in the studio working on the follow-up to 2006’s brilliant Sleeping in Thunder album, which will see release early in 2008.

Naughtiest Onion Rings: There are some pretty decadent deep fried goodies out there in the culinary scene, but none will send you to the cardiologist faster than the clumpy, crumbly onion rings at the Paul Bunyan Drive In on Northwest Blvd. They have to double bag these babies so the hot grease doesn’t soak through and ruin your car interiors. Must be consumed with surreal amounts of dip.

Most Smartest Torch Lounge Dancer of the Year: Violet truly knows how to wriggle and writhe her way around a silver pole wearing nothing but a tiny thong bikini and six-inch platform heels, yet she also holds a degree in Child Development from North Idaho College. Naturally, she's a Gemini, her double nature reflected not only in her bipolar career paths, but also in her bisexuality and her ability to do long division whilst dramatically reinterpreting the music of Marilyn Manson and simultaneously thrusting her ladybusiness into the faces of drooling, horny men. Quel génie!

Coolest Concept That Could Use A Little Work: I really liked what the organizers of the first Coeur d’Alene film festival were trying to do, screening indie films that would have otherwise never been seen by local moviegoers. Problem was, many people were reluctant to spend the $125 for all access tickets (or the $9 for individual tickets) – to me, not a realistic price for low-budget amateur films. Also, the films were scattered all over town with not enough time to make it from one venue to the next between films and causing much confusion for the out-of-towners. If they can keep things more centrally located and make the entry fees more affordable they might be on to something special.

Tastiest Local Microbrew: I had the pleasure of touring the Laughing Dog Brewery up in Ponderay last summer and was schooled by owner Fred Colby on the intricacies of crushing the grain, sparging the mash, and boiling the wort. I’d never really thought about the process, and it was amazing to learn that beer doesn’t just magically appear on the shelf in the grocery store cooler. Even more amazing was their wonderful Huckleberry Cream Ale, a light and sweet but hearty brew they let me repeatedly sample on site. Good stuff.

Best Lunch On A Very Tight Budget: It’s lunchtime but you’re totally broke. Dig in your couch cushions and you’ll likely come up with enough funds for the totally satisfying 3 for $1.19 hot dog special at Gittel’s Grocery at Gov’t Way and Harrison. These dogs are perfectly plumped in an old-fashioned wiener-rotating machine and the buns are steamed. What more do you need?

Wildest Karaoke Night: Marj Hopkins is the Karaoke Queen of the Corner Bar on 4^th Street in Cd’A. Four nights a week, she’s the calm in the center of the hurricane of tipsy warblers that pack the fusty former Fran’s Regina. Everyone from frat boys to chain-smoking old broads sign up to sing here, and you’re likely to witness mind-warping performances of everything from “Amazing Grace” to “Sweet Transvestite.” The more people that sing, the more people need a drink to deal with it. The more people drink, the more likely they are to sing. It’s a depraved spiral into the karaoke abyss.

Freakiest Breakfast Waitresses: Not to be too unkind, but a few of the juicier descriptive terms that pop into mind when pondering the gals who sling plates up at CdA's northside breakfast mecca the Rockin' Robin include fried, grizzled, sizzled, smoked out, coked out and choked out. The food is always incredibly dank, stick-to-your-ribs good and you have to love a place that refers to the pancakes as Pips (as in Gladys Night) and features an omelet called "The Supremes". The waitresses are equally as retro, apparently suspended in a world where it's okay to wear Christmas balls as earrings and eye makeup that would make even the late, great Tammy Faye blanch. Plus, their you'll-get-your-maple-syrup-when-I-damn-well-feel-like-it attitude and sassy coffee-buzz wit will either leave you in stitches or leave them needing stitches after you lose your cool and attack them with your fork. You'll love them anyway and they'll keep you coming back.

Most Interesting Popular Dance Craze: Robin Campbell spends Tuesday evenings upstairs at the old VFW Hall on 4^th Street in Coeur d’Alene teaching Argentine tango dancing to people presumably far more energetic and coordinated than myself. It’s an hour of lessons, then another hour of hardcore tangoing. When you get really good at it, you might want to mambo down to the Shore Lounge in the Cd’A Resort on Wednesdays and check out their Salsa night with DJ Brentano. Olé!

Most Beloved C-Store Clerk: Old Joe has been sitting behind the register at the Zips Stop on 7th and Sherman peering out from behind those glasses that make his eyes all googly and big since before anyone can remember. He knows pretty much everything about everyone who've come into the store more than twice and will chat for hours in that gritty, gravelly voice of his. He's seen it all before and is completely unflappable, not even flinching when you come in to purchase eight 40's of Old E, a box of condoms and a fresh can of WD-40. Trust me, I know.


Most Addictive Jamba Juice Flavor: Alright, it isn’t exclusively a local thing, but I couldn’t imagine life without a power size Matcha Green Tea Smoothie with a Green Caffeine Blast at least three mornings a week. It tastes exactly like my favorite sweet green tea ice cream they serve at Japanese Restaurants and provides a clean caffeine wallop smoother and stronger than coffee or soda. Problem is, my desk sits empty half the day – green tea is a natural and very strong diuretic.

Best Kept Local Radio Secret: Have you ever been driving in downtown Coeur d’Alene, scanning the radio and you’re surprised to suddenly hear some left-of-center music like Pixies or the Meat Puppets? Try to find the station again later and it’s gone or maybe moved somewhere else on the dial. If you’ve experienced this phenomenon, you’ve stumbled upon Coeur d’Alene’s ultra cool pirate radio station. It’s an utter mystery who runs it, but word is if you leave CDs on a certain spot atop a certain c-store sign, they’ll fetch them and play them on the air no matter what the content. By the way, if you work for the FCC, you never saw this.

Bravest Theater Production: Stodgier season ticket holders and manly men worried about exactly how far Cd’A Summer Theatre would take their production of “The Full Monty”, which is famous for it’s depiction of average working men getting naked and dancing for money. Our own Dave Oliveria nervously wondered on Huckleberries Online “Is ‘The Full Monty’ too edgy for Cd’A?” The quick answer was no, it was a huge hit and a rollicking good time, complete with Ellen Travolta’s unforgettably grand performance as jaded showbiz vet Jeanette.

Coolest Vinyl-Only Record Store: OK, the ONLY vinyl-only record store in town actually. Unified Groove Merchants' Cd'A store magically appeared this year across the way from the fairgrounds after the owner ran out of space in the original Spokane location. Looking for a rare Velvet Underground bootleg or a pristine copy of the Beatles' Revolver album? Bingo! Plus thousands of other LP collector's goodies from all eras of music. I lost six hours here one day digging through box after endless box of random, unorganized 45's and still never saw them all. Come with lots of cash and prepare to leave exhausted.

Most Delicious Donuts and Pastries: Somehow when I did my infamous write-up of the deli at Peterson’s Family Foods (formerly Sherman IGA), I forgot to mention their luscious baked goods. The maple bars, apple fritter and French crullers are made fresh daily in small, exclusive batches and are worth getting up early for, because if you don’t they’ll be all gone.

Best Suggestion For A Get Out Column: I enjoy the emails I occasionally receive from local photographer extraordinaire George Goetzman. I was looking for something to inspire this week’s column and I found it in my inbox much thanks to George who wrote “I think you should have a ‘best of’ column sometime. It could include best bloody Mary, best porter on tap, etc. In other words, the best of your eating and drinking pleasures.” Good idea, eh? George goes on to offer his ideas for winners in a few sandwich categories, and they’re insightful enough to include here. He writes: “Best tuna melt: Java on Sherman. Have it on whole wheat. Although my stepdaughter thinks the best tuna melt is at Bella Rose. It has lemony hints in it. Best French dip: Moon Time. Hands down. With caramelized onions, and creamy horseradish sauce. It's over the top. Best patty melt: Rustler's Roost. A patty melt, like a Reuben, has to be kind of greasy with a lot of dripping sauce. Woody does 'em good. I think they come on Rye. You need to add mustard. Best grilled cheese: Java on Sherman. Have it on sourdough. It's not called a grilled cheese on the menu, it's called Bill's Favorite.”

Jamba Juice

Jamba Juice
202 W. Ironwood Dr. Suite E
Coeur d'Alene
(208) 664-3206

www.jambajuice.com


It's one of those mornings when as soon as you crack a crusty eye and become vaguely aware you're awake you just want to die. Every noise is like thunder, every ray of daylight is like a shocking flash of lightning. Your mouth tastes like the floor in the break room at the cigarette factory. Memories are fuzzy, but you vaguely recall kissing that prince (or was it a frog?) before you downed the last of your martini and caught a cab home before somehow stumbling into bed.

You say to yourself "Oh good grief, I need to get on a health kick or something before I drop dead." You need to get some serious rejuvenation rolling. A visit to the day spa is too spendy and feels like cheating, anyway. You simply don't have the energy for the gym or to even get off the couch, for that matter. I've got the perfect solution for your predicament: you need a big, cold Jamba Juice smoothie to replenish the essential vitamins that you ran your body dry of in the course of your shameless overindulgence.

According to one of the handy info pamphlets they leave out for customers, each Jamba contains 3-6 servings of fruit in one go. Each is available with a variety of different "boosts", which are vitamins and minerals formulated to add a punch of protien, energy, or immunity. Many of the drinks served here are "functional", like the tangy, Vitamin-C and Zinc packed "Coldbuster." More exotic is the "Acai Supercharger", which along with a whammy of good 'ol caffiene (via guarana), contains the strong antioxidant "Acai juice." The way the menu describes some of these unusual ingredients leaves you with the impression that someone at the Jamba Juice company spent years crawling through the bushes of South America looking for undiscovered miracle produce, just for us. "Matcha" is another one, a type of organic green tea that you can try in smoothie form or as a gnarly little green shot with soymilk, kind of like an espresso from Venus. Also, for those who crave the taste of fresh-mowed lawn, wheatgrass shots are available.

Although generally good for you, and always refreshing, many of the smoothies are not neccessarily low on calories. The "Jamba Classics" like "Carribean Passion" or "Razzamatazz" are made with huge scoops of sherbert and yogurt - a large cup packs 600-700 calories, or about the same as a good slice of turtle cheesecake. Chocolate is no stranger to these parts, either, with the "Chocolate Moo'd" smoothie that gives the illusion of being nutritious while tasting like an old fashioned milkshake. Along with it's evil twin, the "Peanut Butter Moo'd", these are the most decadent items available here, weighing in at over 900 calories each, for a large.

However, they've recently introduced the "all fruit" smoothie menu and the "Jamba Light" menu, which contain Splenda and whey protein and taste just as good, especially the addictive "Mango Mantra." A few years ago, I went to the best Chinese place in Chinatown, San Francisco, and they served a mango dessert that tasted almost exactly like the "Mango Mantra"- rich, creamy and delicious. These smoothies come in at between 200-300 calories, so they are basically guilt-free. My main Jamba favorite is the "Orange Dream Machine" which is a great breakfast substitute with 18 grams of protein, a days worth of vitamin C, and a yummy creamsicle vibe. Throw in an energy boost, and I'm set until dinnertime.

Fruit smoothies here are the main gig, but they do have a small selection of baked goods at the counter, and the ones I've tried were very good. The blueberry-bran mini loaves pack enough raw fiber to keep things moving very smooth, if you know what I mean. There's a shelf with a random variety of items for sale: juice books, logo t-shirts, on-the-go sippy cups, an actual juicer. I enjoy the atmosphere inside Jamba Juice. The decor is lite-90's modern with a happy clash of avocado green, pale orange, and bright purple walls mixed with clean, natural wood floors and fixtures. It's a small place with minimal seating, but most people get their smoothies to go.

From my experience, the service is always good here. I'm normally in a rush when I pop in, with only a few moments to spare on my way to work. Lines and delays are rare, and I'm usually in and out within 5 minutes. The staff are always perky and polite and even though I only visit every few weeks, the cashier remembers my first name when I order. One thing that annoys me about some places like this is the bored looking teens that stand around and talk trash instead of doing their jobs. Not here - these kids are quiet, clean, fast, and efficient, doing whatever magic thing it is they do back there with all those blenders and other machines. If they make too much smoothie to fit it all in your cup, they'll pour the extra in a small cup and give it to you as well. They always only remove the bottom part of the straw wrapper when they stick in your cup, leaving the top part wrapped and sanitary - a nice touch!