The Rossi (and the Short North of Columbus)

It is funny.  Since my life has led me Ohio-ward (certainly more than the 30+ years preceding), I have been to Columbus (well – bedroom communities therein) so much, but I have seen so little of the city itself.  So it was with a bit of excitement that I did get to hit the Short North area of the city – a bit from downtown and apparently where the “cool kids” are going.  Some of the highlights:

  • The Short North reminded me of Bridge Street in Huntsville, Alabama or Atlantic Station in Atlanta (well, allegedly – it popped up after my reign there ended).  It was fine, had a lot of the usual young people, girls in short skirts, douchebags in striped dress shirts.  Lot of the sorts of pubs where I’d hang out and fancier locales where I decidedly would not.  But it also looked new – not like a mall, but sort of like it was all built at once.  It felt developed – I guess where I live in Arlington, the Shirlington area would be a mini-sort of version.  Culture fabrication of a sort.
  • The North Market though, just off the Short North part of High Street – that’s the real deal.  The market was very evocative of Quincy Market in Boston, just under one roof this festival of foods and groceries.  Hell, there was a Jeni’s Ice Cream – and Jeni’s is pretty clearly the best ice cream that has ever been developed in the United States – so that is a plus already.  However, the other markets all looked wonderful – I wish I had a chance to get lunch there, but some of the key German-Polish places and the Italian stuff looked like the real thing.
  • We did stop at a fairly high end joint in the area – The Rossi – a fancypants sort of Classic American themed place.  Among the specials was one of the better butternut squash soups I have had.  The soup was not overly thick like a puree or an applesauce, and had a hint of heat – did a nice job avoiding cloying sweetness.  It offset a pretty sad charcuterie board that my wife got.  You know there’s a problem when the waitress could not identify the meats on the plate (and frankly they were salamis – whoopee).  But really where my heart sank was the Croque Madame I ordered.  How do you make a Croque Madame and skimp on the gruyere?  I mean, I don’t give a crap about the ham – there has to be some, but I don’t need to be overloaded like I was at a family restaurant.  However, why you order a croque or a Monte Cristo, or another artery stopping grilled cheese, is for stringy, unctuous melty goodness.  You have to be able to see the gooieness and determined that this is a fair price for possibly dying from a coronary later that evening.  It has to create that Pavlovian response.  Instead here we got a little cheese – enough to show that it exists, but an entirely unbalanced thing.  Also, the egg was overdone – the yolk was set which also undercut any unctuous possibility.  Of course this is a restaurant, and so we have folks who are giant fraidy cats about cooking eggs properly.  Oh well.  That said, the other dishes at the table (a salmon salad in particular) looked nice.  It is always hard to get fired up about a high end “American” restaurant – and this is not the place to start – but I am sure most people would enjoy it.

Three More Columbus Joints

I already discussed the pleasant surprise of Benny’s Pizza in my sojourn to Ohio for the Christmas holiday.  While the rest of Christmas was relaxing and luxuriating, some thoughts of a few other munching locations in the Columbus-ish region:

Cap City Fine Diner –  Well, there is an inherent joy going to a restaurant on the advice of a fifty-something year old woman, and the restaurant is playing songs like “This is How We Do It” and “Informer“.  The atmosphere was also exceedingly diner-y with the ersatz jukebox and booths.  They got the look down.  Also the presence of iceberg lettuce in the salad menu was retro – although it was a wedge salad (the “fine dining” I suppose).  I ordered the soup and salad combo.  The soup of the day was beef and vegetable tasted ordinary – maybe from a can, certainly not homemade, and the beef pieces tasted weird, almost like possibly bouillon cubes.  The salad (yes, I got the iceberg wedge) was pleasant, though they like blue cheese dressing A LOT.  Fortunately for them, I like it too.  This still continues my theory though – a restaurant that calls itself “premium” or “fine” almost assuredly is not.

El Vaquero – This was recommended to me by someone who goes there EVERY weekend.  Obviously this sounds like a selling point to me – but I was soon corrected that they went principally for the Margaritas.  That said, one of the tests I have for a Mexican-American restaurant is the salsa they put on the table – does it have some bite or personality on its own?  To be fair the salsa here was good.  Also the spinach and cheese dip had some heft, so much so that I could not get enough of it.  The dip was so tasty that it seemed like they used proper Mexican queso – it was so good I didn’t even mind that they declined to call it queso.  As for the meal, I ordered the very spicy shrimp (camerones a la diabla).  It lived up to promise of heat – although the flavor was routine, lacked depth beyond having a lot of hot sauce.  My companion’s chilaquiles was all wrong, lacking eggs, which seems like a mortal sin.  Given my expectations for Mexican food in Central Ohio, this actually was not bad.

First Watch Cafe – Yep, another chain-ish place.  Found this in Dublin, amid a land of strip malls and illusory old fashined decor.  However, to its credit, unlike Bob Evans, the breakfast was not leaden in my stomach.  I ordered coffee and “The Trifecta” – a belgian waffle, sausage link and two scrambled eggs.  The eggs were overdone of course (where is it not?) but not burdensomely so.  The sausage was not overworked and actually very tasty.  The waffle of course is a weakness of mine, and with syrup my weakness was exploited yet again.  They also had healthier options like my companions Chickichanga – which had an unusually high amount of vegetable and well roundedness for a brunch spot.  Definitely a place or chain to look out for.

Benny’s Pizza

On night one of the Christmas excursion to the great state of Ohio, life somehow ended up in a pizza place in Marysville, which as far as I can tell, is in the middle of nowhere:
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But sure enough, here we were, at a place called Benny’s Pizza.  Given the spotty expectation I have for places in suburbs in general and in the middle of nowhere in particular, I was not hopeful.  Sure I can eat anything cheesy or fatty enough, but that doesn’t mean that it makes the foodie qualifications needed for a recommendation.  Just another TGIF or Olive Garden, right? (especially after entering into the bar area where Miller Lite was flowing copiously)  Wrong!!

When we sat down, the patio decor was fairly plain.  Plastic tables, paper napkins, nothing special.  I ordered the Broccoli and Cheddar Soup, which was actually pretty good.  It was not artisanly crafted I don’t think – but plenty functional and seasoned solidly.  The appetizer chosen were the buffalo chips, homemade potato chips (really a chip meets french fry hybrid) cooked in buffalo seasoning that were positively addictive, especially with the ranch dressing on the side.  The pizza itself though was the star.  In most American pizza locations, crust is a delivery mechanism for many many toppings.  At this place, that rule was not broken (thus it is not a transcendent pizza joint) – our veggie pizza was piled high.  That being said, the crust was thin and actually crispy.  It holds the toppings well, and had a solid cracker-like texture.  While not fine dining by any stretch, it is doubtlessly one of the pleasant surprises eating out in Ohio offered.