Fedora Pub & Grille

Fedora Pub & Grille
1726 W. Kathleen Ave., Coeur d’Alene
(208) 765-8888

"Cock your hat - angles are attitudes." ~ Frank Sinatra

For many people, the mention of a Fedora-style hat brings to mind images of Gene Kelly singing in the rain or a moody Humphrey Bogart gazing into the eyes of Ingrid Bergman in “Casablanca”. I may be hopelessly lost in the ‘80s, but when I think “Fedora”, I immediately picture Duran Duran’s Simon Le Bon tearing his way through the jungle in the music video for “Hungry Like The Wolf”.

While the latter idea would most likely provide some interesting inspiration for the theme and décor of an eating establishment, it’s the golden era of the ‘20s and ‘30s which gives Coeur d’Alene’s newly opened Fedora Pub and Grill its ambience. Fedora owner Donita Mattern has done away with the dreary, wide open cafeteria vibe of former tenant Wangner’s Hofbrau, and created a far more classy and intimate, dim-lit space with forest green booths, faux-mahogany paneling and tinted glass room dividers.

In a clever local twist on the good-old-days theme, Fedora’s walls are decorated with enlarged, canvas-mounted photographs and postcards of Coeur d’Alene’s distant past. I’m kind of a collector nerd for that kind of crusty, old local ephemera, and I thought their appearance was a memorable touch.

The pub area of the restaurant, housing an abundance of Northwest wines and nearly twenty different microbrews, has been remodeled into its own enclosed space, and its lanky wooden bar, lounge sofas and shadowy corners are nearly enough to make you feel comfortably trapped in an old film noir sequence, minus the haze of cigarettes.

Open for slightly over a month, the Fedora’s positive word-of-mouth seems to have people already scrambling to check it out. “I have been there three times already and have not been disappointed...the service, the food, the whole new look. Great job” wrote one new convert on Fedora’s Facebook page. Another fan gushed “Yes! You have amazing food!” Perhaps the owners bribed people with free Guinness to sprinkle the internet with their glowing reviews, but it obviously worked because my first attempt to investigate the place was thwarted by a mad sea of cars congesting their parking lot which made me say “too crowded, another time.”

Returning on a week day during a mid-morning lull, I was greeted at the door by a smiling member of Fedora’s friendly staff and was given the choice of either a table near the TV showing old movies or a booth near the TV showing sports. I do prefer old movies, but I wanted a booth so sports it was. I wasn’t paying attention anyway, too caught up in deciding what to choose to satisfy my breakfast yen.

Mattern and her head chef, Brad Case, have created a strictly-from-scratch menu that tackles all three meals with a creative originality that sets it well above the usual blah family restaurant fare while still retaining a sense of the familiar. Steaks and pasta dishes make up the top end of the menu, but perhaps most excitingly, Monte Cristo cultists can add another haunt to the short list of local eateries that feature the beloved battered and deep-fried sandwich. The Portobello and Brie Sandwich on Foccacia bread is sure to cause one’s umami receptors to shudder with joy, and Gourmet Cheese Burger goes French by smearing on a thick, creamy layer of garlic herbed Boursin.

The Steamer Clams with a garlic-herb butter, red chili flake and chardonnay sauce would make for a luscious appetizer or a full meal, as would the Texas Chicken Eggrolls with Thai chili sauce and sour cream, and the Green Bluff Peach Salad (grilled chicken, peaches, candied walnuts, brie cheese and fresh greens in a vinaigrette) is described as “just what you need to imagine yourself dining on a big front porch on a hot summer night”. Indeed.

For a cool autumn morning, breakfast was the active plan, and after a bit of deliberation, I ordered their Eggs Benedict. It took exactly enough time for my exceedingly affable server Suzi to refill my coffee cup once before my food arrived, and with its colorful garnish of cantaloupe, casaba melon, and pineapple slices, it was a cheerful sight to behold.

Normally, runny eggs freak me out, but as my fork made its way through the layers of homemade hollandaise, thin-sliced ham and toasted English muffin, an explosion of bright yellow yolk came flowing out. Once said fork brought the concoction to my salivating tongue, any runny egg paranoia drifted away in a cloud of rich, dreamy flavor. The accompanying hash browns were unique, a mound of small, thin-sliced potato chunks cooked to a light, hearty crunchiness and not swimming in grease.

Despite the hype, I’d wondered whether the Fedora could thrive in such a relatively out-of-the-way location where another restaurant had already died a slow, painful death after only a little over a year. After experiencing their impressively high level of service and sampling their singular cuisine, the reason for the buzz is clear. The Fedora is poised to become one of the area’s signature dining destinations.

Kootenai Cafe

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

4th Street Pantry

4th Street Pantry

206 N. Fourth St.,
Coeur d’Alene

"When you like something, you should do it all night long."
~ Chavela Vargas

I spent many hours at 24-hour diners in my late teens and early twenties, drinking oceans of coffee, chain smoking and filling notebooks with pretentious poetry. At the time, they were pretty much the only places for the under-21 crowd to meet and socialize without pesky parental units leering over their shoulders.

Our circle of friends started out at Perkins, where we regularly annoyed the waitresses by acting like it was our living room and never buying anything more than a bottomless cup of joe and a large order of fries with a side of ranch dressing. When the management finally got fed up and threw us out for good, we relocated to Denny’s, where they seemed much more receptive to our chaos and where we would see a preview of our future selves; hungry post-bar drunks not quite ready to let the night come to a graceful end.

The new 4th Street Pantry in downtown Coeur d’Alene is set to corner the 24-hour restaurant market, and since Denny’s is still basically the only other place to stuff one’s face during the wee hours, they have a very good chance of success. Owners Michael Hanes and Tanya Dalton have created a warm, comfortable environment that feels like you’ve arrived at a friend’s cozy home for a nice little visit and a satisfying homemade meal.

A friend and I visited the restaurant for lunch recently and overheard Hanes telling a customer that since opening less than a week prior, the overnight shift has been regularly packed with people. It’s not hard to do, considering that the tiny diner currently houses only 7 small booths and two standing counters, but I’ve heard some rumors that they’ve got smart plans to expand into the vacant space next door.

We ducked in on a rainy, sleepy Sunday afternoon to find it percolating with activity and snagged the last available table. Except for one spot occupied by an older, tourist-looking couple, every booth was filled with what my lunch partner dubbed “the emo mafia underground.” In other words, black hoodie clad, eyeliner-wearing boys and girls with long bangs in their eyes and skinny jeans. Was there a Hot Topic convention in town? It was a bit of an unusual crowd, and perhaps a testament to the relaxed, inclusive appeal of the place.

Examining the menu, two words jumped out instantly. Monte Cristo. I’ve waxed romantic before on these pages about my love for this rarely-seen battered and fried ham, turkey and cheese sandwich, and I knew right away I had to give it a whirl. Still, their menu was so full of possibilities. The “Orange Cream Delight” is a French toast sandwich stuffed with orange cream cheese and sounded quite dreamy to me as well.

Breakfast is served 24/7 and also includes more traditional fare like the “Danz the Man” Steak and Eggs, “Harold’s Hash” and “Ol’Man Mike’s” Biscuits and Gravy, which are already creating a buzz as the best in town. Dinner is served from 5-9 p.m. daily, a smattering of comfort classics such as meat loaf, pork chops and a traditional turkey dinner, all for less than ten bucks.

The waitress came to take our order, trailed by the owner’s young daughter Mackenzie who was learning the ropes and helping out a bit. “Monte Cristo, please!” I announced but my heart sank when she apologetically told me they couldn’t serve it due to a snag with the food distributor. “OK, I’ll need another minute to figure it out,” I sighed and focused on the lunch section instead. The hot and cold sandwiches are served on bread from Bakery by the Lake and looked huge, but I was in a burger mood and the Bacon Cheddar Burger seemed like it would do the trick rather nicely.

Our lunches arrived in moments flat. Our burgers were tucked neatly into red plastic baskets and checkered paper, glamorous atop a pile of crisp lettuce, tomato and pickles. It tasted as good as it looked, with perfectly melted cheese oozing out the sides and smoky, crispy bacon that took the whole affair to the highest heights of satisfaction. I had ordered the huge, handmade onion rings which were perfect, enhanced by a side of tartar that little Mackenzie had brought me with a smile. My friend had ordered the “endless” fries, and of course I had to snag a few. Sometimes a French fry is a French fry, but something about these golden brown babies made them rise way above the norm.

We could barely finish the whipped cream covered brownie that the waitress “forced” us into having for dessert. It was dense and rich, almost too delicious. The bill was stunningly easy on the wallet, amazing considering the high quality of food and service. 7 a.m. or midnight, drunk or sober, tourist or emo kid. The 4th Street Pantry seems to have hit upon a formula for success that’s appealing to anyone any time of day; a friendly, comfortable vibe and top-shelf food at ridiculously affordable prices.

Mallards Restaurant & Lounge

Mallards Restaurant & Lounge
at Templin’s Red Lion Inn
414 E 1st Ave., Post Falls,
773-1611

"The Account of Monte Cristo"

Like a dreamy soft-focus fantasy, a certain sandwich will forever occupy a special place in my head and heart. Tender sliced Ham and Turkey is covered with melted cheese on thick-sliced egg bread, then dipped in it's entirety in French toast batter and deep fried. It’s usually sprinkled with powdered sugar and must be served with a side of strawberry jelly. It’s the sandwich at it’s most refined and elegant, adding some jazz to its older, stodgier French cousin, the Croque Monsieur, a simple grilled ham and Swiss, and taking it to the outer edge of the flavor stratosphere.

The Monte Cristo first appeared on American menus in southern California in the 1950’s. Its placement on the menus of the Blue Bayou and Tahitian Terrace restaurants in New Orleans Square in Disneyland was the big Hollywood break the sandwich needed. Suddenly it became "in vogue" across the country in a golden era when 1500 calories and endless grams of fat meant nothing to anyone. Eventually, its glory days faded and currently it's a bit of a relic, a rare thing to see listed on an average menu among the BLT's and Grilled Chicken Clubs.

The Monte Cristo seemed to be everywhere we dined when I was growing up in the '70's and early 80's, and I was in love with it even back then. I fondly remember my grandparents frequently taking me to eat at TJ's Pantry, located in the North Shore Hotel, now the Coeur d'Alene Resort. Unlike its current incarnation Dockside, the place was dark and cave-like, done in weird browns and oranges and closer in spirit to a greasy spoon. I remember always enjoying a Monte Cristo with a big pile of fries, then sneaking off to play Space Invaders and ride the elevator up and down all seven floors, then a popular local pastime.

Out of the blue the craving hit recently, and it hit hard. I racked my brain, unable to even remember the last time I’d enjoyed a nice Monte Cristo, let alone where it might have been. I poked around the web looking at menus and uncovered a handful of clues. Granny’s Pantry in Rathdrum has them, but I think I’m still banished from that town. Beverly’s offers them as well, but their version strays too far into gourmet territory for me by bringing in things like Boursin cheese and Huckleberry-Pear butter. Finally, I was tipped off that Mallards Restaurant inside Templins Resort in Post Falls had the classic, quintessential version I was looking for.

I hadn’t been to Mallards since a random Mother’s Day approximately ten years ago, and the place remains unchanged. The long aisles of floral upholstered chairs and mirrored walls still exude a vague sense of 80’s high class, but a tell-tale layer of dust and drear makes the place cry for an update. Still, the huge bay windows face a gorgeous view of the Spokane River and provide some sunlight in the otherwise drab neo-Victorian space. We crept in during the lull between lunch and dinner on a weekday and had the entire silent dining room to ourselves. I flipped open my menu long enough to spot the magic words “Monte Cristo.” Finally, a coup!

My lunch partner was a Monte Cristo virgin and had listened to me rave about them for the previous hour, so of course he wanted one too. But I like to be able to taste a couple of different things, so I tried to get him to order something else. Mallards has a wide selection of reasonably priced breakfast, lunch, and dinner specialties and has always had a good reputation as a fine dining experience. “Mmmm, the Crab and Lobster melt sounds great, doesn’t it? How about the Black and Bleu burger, maybe some of their “famous” fish and chips,” I suggested. Regardless, my friend was stuck on playing copycat, so two Monte Cristos it was.

We felt a strange connection to Vickie, our waitress, as if she were a kindred spirit, facilitating our path toward Monte Cristo enlightenment. She’d given us a warm, all-knowing gaze when we’d ordered, and somehow guessed that we both wanted Pepsi before we even had a chance to say so. Our lunches arrived fast and we instantly dug in. One divine bite and it became clear that Vickie was our sandwich angel and that we’d died and gone to deep fried heaven on earth. It was the long-awaited realization of my dreamy soft-focus Monte Cristo childhood fantasy.

There's something cosmic about the contrasts involved. It's the warm gushiness of the inside versus the golden crispiness of the fried outer layer. It’s the cool sweetness of the strawberry jam versus the smoky ham and turkey and tang of the creamy melted layers of American and Swiss cheeses. Disney himself would be proud to be associated with the Mallards version of his favorite guilty pleasure. Likewise, the accompanying Chicken Coconut Curry soup was tremendous, filled with tender rice and just enough spice. The steak fries, nearly lost in all the excitement, were golden crisp and perfect and made a great sidekick for the star attraction.

Despite the relative heaviness of our meals, we felt refreshed and soul-satisfied, like we’d just been to some kind of exclusive spiritual retreat. “Good stuff?” Vickie asked as she cleared our empty plates and we had to laugh at her understatement. We bid her adieu and she nodded as if she knew for certain we’d be back soon for more of her inspirational Monte Cristo treatment.