Red Bowl Fresh Grilled

Red Bowl Fresh Grilled
1650 W Appleway, Coeur d'Alene
(208) 676-9340

It's perhaps a smidge on the perplexing side that an eatery advertising itself under the moniker Red Bowl serves all their items in plastic black bowls. The situation conjures up several ponderous questions. Does the plastic bowl wholesaler charge an extra .02 per for the red ones? Was the name "Black Bowl" somehow too morbid and un-cheery or was it already trademarked by a bowling alley with a African-American History theme? Did they at one point consider the name "Green Bowl" but thought better after realizing they might be mistaken for a medical marijuana dispensary?

We may never know the reason, but after a couple of trips to Coeur d'Alene's Red Bowl Fresh Grilled, located deep inside Goodie's Conoco gas station/c-store, I've concluded that it wouldn't really matter if their food was served in Pistachio Puke or Burnt Hair Ochre colored bowls, it would still be pretty darn okay.

Speaking of ungodly color happenings, Red Bowl lives in the former shell of a Taco Time outlet, and while they've applied some red linoleum atop the main counter, and splashed some red paint on the walls surrounding the order area, the cupboards in the kitchen are still neon Taco Time lime green. This vibratingly optical color combo was giving me  a mild case of vertigo as I stood at the order counter the first time trying to decide what was what for lunch. Another noted decor tragedy is the appropriate-of-nothing rack of small silk flowerpots for sale near the soda machines. No thanks, I'll buy grandma's birthday present down the street at Tuesday Morning instead.

Yakisoba, rice bowls, and stir-fry combo plates make up the bulk of the Red Bowl menu board. I've described it to friends as sort of a poor man's Noodle Express, but in actuality that makes the place sound significantly more ghetto than it really is, at least food wise. All the staples of this sort of fast-Asian grill are here, a few dozen options overall with no major surprises, none at all, really.

I do appreciate that they cater to people who don't make up their minds so easily (pointing to myself) by offering three combo plates that include a couple of different entrees - Chicken & Short Ribs, Chicken & Spicy Pork, Short Ribs & Spicy Pork ($7.99 per plate). Okay, not an amazing variety of options there, but as an entry point into the world of Red Bowl, it seemed like the right thing to do, so I ordered a #6 (Chicken & Spicy Pork) to go.

When the counter girl disappeared into the the back somewhere and I heard some sizzling and clacking spatula action, I realized that everything was being whipped up from scratch, rather than served out of a metal heat-lamp-fueled bin of some kind. In fact, all the old Taco Time gear in the front part of the kitchen is just sitting there totally out of commission. Everything goes on behind the scenes now, so I suppose all the cooking cacophony could be just an elaborate fake-out and in reality, everything they serve up comes from the frozen foods section of Grocery Outlet. You know, those little microwaveable black plastic bowls.

I think not. My maiden meal from Red Bowl was pretty darn good - both the chicken and and pork were fresh and tender, served Teriyaki-style with a nice, tight ball of white rice and a pile of salad-y veggies. It was good enough to warrant a return visit, this time with Jesi B., and with the intention of actually sitting down at a table to dine and bathe in the luminescent ambiance of a busy quickie mart at noontime. Red Bowl is certainly not the kind of place you'd want to suggest for a meeting with your high society friends, but we were quite entertained by the crowd nonetheless - a dozen-or-so buff and burly Avista utility men who had arrived for lunch at the same time as us. Bonus!

This time around, I decided on the Shrimp Yakisoba ($7.99) and it was quite scrumptious with large florets of non-soggy broccoli, carrots, and lots of big, tasty shrimp. Eight bucks seems to me like it's just a tad pricier than some of the other places that serve this sort of thing, but we got a heaping ton of food, and it was well worth every Roosevelt dime spent. In addition to the main course, I split an order of potstickers ($3.99) with Jesi, and these did actually give the impression they were imported from the freezer section. They weren't terrible though, and I suppose there's only so much one can do with a potsticker. Still, we devoured everything, and left feeling satiated and blissfully a-bloat.

Last week, I returned for another dose of Red Bowl - I needed to give it another whirl before I could form a final opinion, desperately (okay, maybe I'm a little hooked). The Crispy Chicken Plate ($6.99) and a perfectly adequate egg roll ($2.99) tilted the decision all the way over into yes! territory. They could and should refer to it as Chicken Katsu on the menu, because that's really what it is, and Chicken Katsu is one of my most beloved Hawaiian plate lunch items. I love the pounded-down thinness of the chicken meat, coated in that crunchy deep-fried coating and served with that tangy, ketchup-and-Worcestershire based sauce that's so yummy when it gets all mixed into the white rice. Heaven!

On the whole, Red Bowl won't win any Idaho Cuisine magazine Fork-in-Cork awards for its posh atmosphere, but it is a great place to pop in and grab a convenient, appetizing and very filling meal. And where else in town can one pick up a case of Natural Ice beer, a copy of the National Enquirer, and a jumbo-size box of Junior Mints on the way out the door after chowing down on a black plastic bowl full of Tofu Yakisoba?

Gittel’s Grocery

Gittel’s Grocery
1201 N. Government Way, Coeur d’Alene
(208) 667-6816

Some years, I tend to get a little extravagant around Christmastime and end up spending pretty much my every last dime. I like to give gifts that people might actually remember and use, and I enjoy going out for nice dinners and festive nights on the town.

These things are never cheap, and this year was no exception. Now that the yuletide cheer has faded, my bank account is as empty as my cup of hot buttered rum at bedtime on Christmas Eve.

Still, one must eat, and when cupboards are bare, desperate times call for desperate measures. In times of poverty, I know that digging around in the dark areas of the couch or car will unearth at least enough coins for a satisfying and classic favorite: three hot dogs for $1.39 at Gittel’s Grocery in Coeur d’Alene.

Searching online for details about the subject, I came upon a blog post, written by former local resident Jake Donahue, in which he eloquently waxes poetic about the wonderful wieners at “the Biggest Little Store in Town.” His haiku showcases the typical emotional and physiological response to this divine lunchtime tableau: “My mouth salivates/Three for a buck thirty-nine/Hot dogs are pure bliss.”

It’s unknown exactly when Gittel’s became the sacred homeland for this holy trinity of hot dogs. Elton Gittel might have decided to serve up discounted frank triplets on opening day way back when, or perhaps one of the many Gittel descendants who’ve run the store in the decades since had the winning idea. Either way, it’s been a legendary lunch bargain for as long as I can remember.

I had a roommate long ago who actually managed to lose a bit of weight by guzzling water and eating nothing but three plain Gittel’s dogs every day for both lunch and dinner. Probably not the healthiest way to go about it, but at the time the special was three dogs for 99 cents, ensuring that he always had lots of money left over for something to stuff in his bong.

Recently, a friend of mine offered to take her mate to lunch to celebrate their 10th anniversary. “Surprise me,” said her lover, and they ended sitting up at the lone picnic table on Gittel’s front lawn, holding hands and enjoying cheap hot dogs together in the autumn sunshine.

There’s no hype involved in a Gittel’s dog. There’s no piled-high Chicago-style action with mustard, onion, sweet relish, a dill pickle, tomato wedges and pickled peppers. You won’t find any German sausages, brats, kielbasas or cheese-filled Ball Park plumpers. The counter is devoid of extravagant toppings or condiments such as sauerkraut, bacon bits, mayonnaise or coleslaw.

Nope. What you get here is all you really need – plain old ketchup and mustard. It’s available in two squeeze bottles, one retro red and the other yesteryear yellow. If you prefer not to squirt condiments in public or want to avoid messy accidents in the car, Gittel’s has been benevolent enough to provide to-go packets.

The creative topping options do expand some if you explore the aisles of the tiny Gittel’s grocery section for inspiration. Spray some Easy Cheese all up in there, pour on a can of cheap chili, and sprinkle it with crumbled beef jerky. Voila! It’s a poor man’s Coney Island dog.

Hot dogs are the single, solitary item on the Gittel’s deli menu, and if for some odd reason you only want one or two, you’ll have to pay the jacked-up price of 59 cents each.

The dogs at Gittel’s are self-serve, and they fire up the machine just in time for breakfast. Certainly, a hot dog cooker like the one Gittel’s uses hasn’t been available since at least around the time when TV’s “Fantasy Island” was canceled. The wieners are skewered roughly on a rotating steel spit with spikes and broiled under a hot lamp. This lends them the sweaty, tan complexion of that show’s ever-smiling host, Ricardo Montalban. However, their length is more akin to the height of co-star Hervé Villechaize.

Still, they’re sufficiently juicy and tasty, and when you’re getting three, who cares? The steamy white buns are warmed in the upper compartment and are always fresh, but they require some delicacy not to cause unnecessary squishing or tearing. Cardboard beer boxes are halved and piled next to the machine to use as trays that perfectly fit three dogs. The only extravagance is the white paper hot dog holders, which do a great job of holding together their cargo.

If I get extra lucky in my scrounge for pennies and find a few crumpled dollar bills in an old pants pocket, I might throw in a bag of Sun Chips and a bottle of lemonade and really feel like I’m living it up. However, with Gittel’s dogs, add-ons aren’t even necessary to feel like a hot dog pauper in emperor’s clothing.

Gittel’s Grocery

Gittel’s Grocery
1201 N Government Way,
Coeur d’Alene,
208-667-6816.

Some years, I tend to get a little over-extravagant around Christmas time and end up spending pretty much my every last dime. I like to gift people with gifts they might actually remember and use and I also enjoy going out for nice dinners and festive nights on the town. These things are never cheap, and this year was no exception. Now that the yuletide cheer has faded, my bank account is as empty as my cup of hot buttered rum at bedtime on Christmas Eve.
Still, one must eat and when cupboards are bare, desperate times call for desperate measures. In times of poverty, I know that digging around in the dark areas of the couch or car will unearth at least enough coins for a satisfying and classic favorite; three hot dogs for $1.39 at Gittel’s Grocery in Coeur d’Alene.

Searching online for details about the subject, I came upon a blog post, written by former local resident Jake Donahue, in which he eloquently waxes poetic about the wonderful wieners at “the Biggest Little Store in Town”. His brief haiku showcases the typical emotional and physiological response to this divine lunchtime tableaux. “My mouth salivates/Three for a buck thirty-nine/Hot dogs are pure bliss.”

It’s unknown exactly when Gittel’s became the sacred homeland for this holy trinity of hot dogs. Elton Gittel might have decided to serve up discounted frank triplets on opening day way back when, or perhaps one of the many Gittel descendants who’ve run the store in the decades since had the winning idea. Either way, it’s been one of the most legendary lunch bargains in town for as long as I can remember.

I had a roommate long ago who actually managed to lose a bit of weight by guzzling water and eating nothing but three plain Gittel’s dogs every day for both lunch and dinner. Probably not the healthiest way to go about it, but at the time the special was three dogs for 99 cents, ensuring that he always had lots of money left over for something to stuff in his bong.

Recently, a friend of mine offered to take her mate to lunch to celebrate their 10th anniversary. “Surprise me,” said her lover and they ended sitting up at the lone picnic table on Gittel’s front lawn, holding hands and enjoying cheap hot dogs together in the autumn sunshine.

There’s no hype involved in a Gittel’s dog. There’s no piled-high Chicago-style action with mustard, onion, sweet relish, a dill pickle, tomato wedges, and pickled peppers. You won’t find any German sausages, brats, kielbasas or cheese-filled Ballpark plumpers. The counter is completely devoid of extravagant toppings or condiments such as sauerkraut, bacon bits, mayonnaise or coleslaw.

Nope. What you get here is all you really need; plain old ketchup and mustard. It’s available in two squeeze bottles, one colored retro red and the other yesteryear yellow. If you prefer not to squirt condiments in public or want to avoid messy accidents in the car, they’ve also been benevolent enough to provide to-go packets for those on the go.

The creative topping options do expand some if you explore the aisles of Gittel’s tiny grocery section for inspiration. Spray some Easy Cheese all up in there, pour on a can of cheap chili, and sprinkle it with crumbled beef jerky. Voila! It’s a poor man’s Coney Island dog. Hot dogs are the single, solitary item on the Gittel’s deli menu, and if for some odd reason, you only want one or two, you’ll have to pay the jacked-up price of 59 cents each.

The dogs at Gittel’s are a self-serve, and they fire up the machine just in time for breakfast. Certainly, a Glenray hot dog cooker like the one Gittel’s uses hasn’t been available since at least around the time when TV’s “Fantasy Island” was cancelled. The wieners are skewered roughly on a rotating steel spit with spikes and broiled under a hot lamp. This lends them the sweaty, tan complexion of that show’s ever-smiling host, Ricardo Montalban, however their length is more akin to the height of co-star Hervé Villechaize. Sill, they’re sufficiently juicy and tasty, and when you’re getting three, who cares?

The steamy white buns are warmed in the upper compartment and are always fresh, but require some delicacy as to not cause unnecessary squishing or tearing. Cardboard beer boxes are halved and piled up next to the machine to use as trays that perfectly fit three dogs. The only extravagance is the white paper hot dog holders which do a great job of holding together their cargo.

If I get extra lucky in my scrounge for pennies and find a few crumpled dollar bills in an old pants pocket, I might throw in a bag of Sun Chips and a bottle of lemonade, and really feel like I’m living it up. However, with Gittel’s dogs, add-ons aren’t even necessary to feel like a hot dog pauper in emperors clothing.

Longboard Burgers

Longboard Burgers
356 E. Appleway,
Coeur d’Alene, 769-7136.

Surfing On Waves of Burger Love

Sometimes the best and most interesting local cuisine is found in tucked away in obscure locations. Every town has those family-run neighborhood eateries that are hidden in plain sight, places you might drive right by all the time and yet never take the time to really acknowledge. One random day your gaze happens catch their sign advertising chicken gizzards or maybe someone finally recommends them to you: “Oh wow, I can’t believe you’ve never been in there; Harry and I stop in every Thursday, they’ve got the world’s best recipe for egg salad, you’ll love it so much you’ll die.” So you do, and it really is the world’s best egg salad but you don’t actually die and the place becomes a regular haunt and you wonder what the heck you were thinking, absentmindedly driving right by there so many times without visiting.

“Longboard Burgers” some wise person suggested to me earlier this year. “Best burgers in town, I’m not kidding you.” Others present nodded with agreement and delight.”Oh yeah, Longboard baby, they’re the bomb. Awesome fries, too.” I honestly hadn’t a clue. “Where? Is that here in town somewhere?” I asked. “Corner of 4th & Appleway, inside the A&D Gas Mart. They’ve got a drive-thru too.” Oh, really? I’d stopped there for some gas or a Jolt Cola every now and then and did vaguely remember seeing some kind of a food setup in the back, but it never seemed to be open so it never occupied any valuable brain space.

Pulling into the A&D Mart the next afternoon, I gave my forehead the V8 slap, at last noticing the massive and quite obvious “Longboard Burgers” signage on the exterior of the building. One sign listed their hours as 11 a.m. to 3 p.m. and unfortunately, it was already after 5 o’clock. I returned a few days later at high noon, walking past the Hostess rack and up the automotive aisle to find a half-dozen hungry folks standing patiently to occupy one of the extremely limited barstools at one of the few two-seater tables or at the tiny lunch counter hidden away in the far reaches of the convenience store. The space is small but attractive, with a modest thatched bamboo surf-hut motif. I especially like the napkin-holders which were made using vintage surf-theme record sleeves. That first visit, I got my burger to-go, realizing that I’d either have to wait a while for a stool or eat my lunch whilst hovering over the motor oil display. It’s been the drive-thru for me ever since.

The merry folks who run the tiny Longboard grill seem very close-knit and they run a rollicking, well-oiled machine. If they ever find themselves out of work, they could certainly find employment in the entertainment industry. I can’t remember a time I’ve come through Longboard Burgers when they haven’t been cracking corny one-liners at each other and the customers, singing along loudly to the radio, or just dancing the mambo from the grill to the fryer to the cash register. Their fun attitude makes the entire sleepy mini-mart come alive with positive energy, and it’s even as perceptible in the drive-thru as it is in the dining area inside.

The burgers at Longboard are just as great, perhaps even better in certain ways as those served by other local joints that might rank higher on the history and legend scale. However, here they won’t give you dirty looks for wanting fries with your burger. In fact, while the ¼ pound burgers are unquestionably the main star at Longboard, the fries should be nominated for a foodie Oscar for their excellent supporting role. They’re the most authentically fresh and “potato-y” tasting thin-cut fries around, bringing to mind those found at Dick’s in Spokane, which is perhaps the highest of non-hydrogenated compliments.

To get them extra crispy and delicious, they most likely employ the “double dip” method, where they deep fry them to a crisp golden brown, let them cool awhile, then plunge them back into the oil to re-crisp before a sprinkling with salt and tossing a heaping pile into a classic red basket. At the drive-through, they hand over your fries and neatly-wrapped burger in a wobbly, overfilled open brown box that was never meant to hold such weighty cargo, and it takes both hands to grab it to avoid letting it plunge to a splattery death on the pavement below.

I discovered a new favorite Longboard Burger recently, the Mushroom Swiss. Thick-cut fresh mushrooms are suffocated by melted layers of Swiss and the optional-but-so- necessary grilled onions. The Double Double Burger is perhaps their trademark item, and includes two each of beef patties and cheese slices, as well as the usual crisp lettuce and thick tomato slice. The Blue Cheese Burger is majestically rich and the bacon on the Bacon Cheeseburger is actually crisp and not sad and soggy. Cost wise, all of these burgers fall under three bucks, which is less than a boring old Big Mac and of course Longboard Burgers come with at least 10 times more love and magic. A smattering of “dee-licious” Philly Cheesesteaks, Breaded Chicken Breast Sandwiches and Hot Dogs are made fresh to order as well and anything on the menu can be ordered smothered in their stupendous homemade chili.

I’ve been told by several wags “in the know” that Longboard Burgers are served “California-style” and that the concept was “stolen” from some old-school diner down in the Golden State. A bit of research turned up something vague about the use of Thousand Island dressing, but otherwise I can only come to the conclusion that “California-style” means “a thick and juicy hand-formed beef patty on a nice big bun layered with your choice of melted cheese and served with the freshest crisp lettuce and tomato in town.” In all honestly, these could be burgers done “Uranus-style.” When they’re this sublime and soul-satisfying, who cares?

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.

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.”

Appleway Conoco Taco Time

Appleway Conoco Taco Time
1650 W. Appleway
Coeur d'Alene
208-765-8668

I’ve been taken task a time or two recently for including a few fast food joints in my spectrum of reviews. I’ve been told it’s not kosher to pick on the fine folks who make their living at these places, and that I’m not bringing anything to light that everyone doesn’t already know. We’ve all experienced a Big Mac, so why do a review of Micky D’s? Okay, even I might find it hard to glean some entertainment value from a visit to the golden arches, but I like a good challenge, so you never know.

However, I’ve also been told that it’s a good thing for me to cover places that your average working person can actually afford, and since I’m certainly not made of money, I include myself in that category. Basically, I’ll write about any place I find interesting, from grocery store delis to fine French bistros. Granted, a quick jaunt through the Taco Time drive-thru is not going to provide one with an exquisite gourmet experience, but it will provide a hollow form of temporary satisfaction without totally emptying the pocketbook.

When I was just a wee tater tot, a trip to Taco Time was kind of an exciting thing. It was then located at 7th and Sherman in Coeur d'Alene, in the oddly shaped building which now houses another taco joint, and I'm pretty sure it was probably the only Mexican place in town at the time. The big deal was to sit in the upstairs dining area (I vaguely remember it to be the smoking section at one point) and eat huge amounts of Cinnamon Crustos. Over time, the upstairs area became less and less accessible due to the bad kids who found great fun in throwing random bits of food over the edge and snickering uncontrollably (Who, me? Certainly not.)

After Taco Time relocated in the mid-eighties to the trendier location at Silver Lake Mall the magic sort of ended. The chaotic food court simply did not have the same charm that the downtown place had. I've never been a big fan of hanging out at the mall, so Taco Time basically dropped off my radar for quite a number of years. Thankfully, the food at Senor Froggy was nearly identical so the Time wasn't really missed.

Then, not too long ago I noticed the big Taco Time signs decorating the outside of the Concoco at the corner of Appleway and Ramsey. I was delighted to discover they had a drive-thru set up. What a wonderful world of possibilities this opened up! I always tell everyone how much I dislike greasy fast food, and I do generally try to avoid it, but sometimes I'm just tired and lazy and don't feel like getting all gussied up for a trip into the store or restaurant. I truly can't stomach many of the drive-thru food options offered in the area (and I'm getting a bit burnt out on Subway), so I was excited there was another option, somewhere that might offer something semi-fresh and semi-healthy. For those of you who might prefer inside dining, I did notice a handful of tables, but the ambience is obviously nonexistent, the vibe is pure Conoco convenience mart - fluorescent lights and Country Radio.

"Thankyouforchoosingapplewaytacotimehowcanihelpyou?" squawked the drive-thru girl immediately when I pulled up. "Uh, just a minute" I said. I gazed over the menu, giving serious consideration to sensible options like rice burritos on whole wheat tortillas or maybe a salad. However, freshness and health went out the window in favor of the nostalgia of a classic Crisp Meat Burrito and a gloppy Saturday Nacho special. Oh, the decadence! The girl at the window was an absolute delight, smiling and polite and asking about my hot sauce preference as if it were a window to my soul. Good customer service is so rare these days that it can take me quite by surprise, especially at a fast food joint.

I got home and dove in. My crisp meat burrito was pretty good, but not as good as I remembered, even dipped in plenty of that 1000-island-esque sauce. The operative word should be “crisp” and this rather floppy, soggy roll-up struggled to fit that description. The nachos had me totally thrown off at first, because I swear Taco Time always had used real cheese in the past. These were covered in that same "Jalapeno cheese" sauce they serve at places like Taco Bell. "How terrible" I thought at first, until I realized that I actually do have an unexplainable fondness for slimy fake cheese sauce.

The main problem with the nachos is that they were quite cold and became soggy after re-nuking them. Nothing terribly original here, just some clumpy refried beans, a tease of taco meat, chopped tomatoes and onions, sour cream, and certainly not enough chips. The toppings to chips ratio was like 2:1, making it necessary to use a fork, since the weight and wetness of everything had rendered what little chips were there totally useless. C'mon kids: throw in some extra chips, they can’t be that expensive.

Overall, I'm happy to have Taco Time in the mix of drive-thru possibilities. Their food can be a little hit-or-miss, but they do have some creative healthy-ish options on the menu (which I'm getting next time - I swear). Surely the Baja Fish Taco is less artery-clogging than the traditional ground beef variety, all stuffed with cabbage and fresh tomato salsa and served with a wedge of lime. The veggie burrito comes in a wheat tortilla and even includes sunflower seeds, and the grilled Chicken Fiesta Salad is piled high with black beans and sweet corn. Now, please pass the deep-fried Cinnamon Crustos...