Not Diggity

A friendly word to the crew at the 85th Street Deli/Slum City Hot Dogs (Greenwood): Canned chili and old pre-grated cheddar is enough to put one off chili dogs for eternity.

Here's a really good, easy Texas chili recipe that will keep me coming back; feel free to use ground beef instead of cubed chuck roast.

Real Texas Chili
(modified from America's Test Kitchen)

3 lbs chuck roast, cut in 1/2 inch cubes
3 strips of bacon (or bacon fat)
3 cloves garlic, minced
3 TBS chili powder (or toast 3-4 chili pods and grind in food processor, make paste with a little water before adding)
1 tsp salt
1 tsp ground cumin
1 tsp oregano
5-6 cups water
1/4 cup Masa Harina (make paste with some water)

In enameled pot or dutch oven, brown meat in bacon fat; remove. Saute garlic, then add herbs followed by chili powder paste. Add back meat, then add water. Cover and simmer in 250 degree oven for at least 2 hours. Optional: 28 oz can of crushed tomatoes; 14-1/2 oz can of kidney beans. Thicken: Add Masa Harina paste gradually by spoonful; simmer for 30 more minutes.

I do give you 4 thumbs up, though, for roasting the 'dogs when they are ordered, instead of letting them sit in hot water for hours.


Update:  85th Street Deli has since shuttered.

"Show us your Tat's"

That's what it says on the official t-shirts at Tat's Deli (Pioneer Square), direct all complaints to them.

Since the cheesesteak place in Pike Place closed I've been looking for another joint serving good Philly-style cheesesteaks. Yes, I've tried Philadelphia Fevre (East Madison). But those are not cheesesteaks so much as chipped dried beef-like food product, dipped briefly in warm broth. Sorry, but that's how I feel.

I think I've finally found cheesesteak heaven, and I've seen it's Tat's.

I always get the 8-inch with provolone and hot peppers ($7; you can also get a 12-incher, as well as a t-shirt that announces that preference to the world; again, don't send your complaints to me). It comes on a split french roll, filled with a generous portion of moist, perfectly seasoned beef and peppers mixed in.

The first time I was there, the counter guy tried to talk me into ordering my cheesesteak with ketchup. "It's real goooood," he promised. Don't fall for it! I've been to South Philly, I've had a real South Philly steak sandwich, and you sir are no -- that is, no one ever offered me ketchup. If you want tangy, that's what the peppers are for.

Upgrade to an order of fries and a can of pop for just $2.

Warning: the lunch line is often out the door between 11:30 and 12:30.

Update: Tat's has moved to the Interurban Building on Yesler, across from the Sinking Ship garage.

Thai Civil War

The reality of many restaurants with ethnic menus is that a lot of the dishes are variations on a core of basic ingredients. The exceptional restaurant knows how to take those basics and vary them in interesting ways. The standard restaurant fails to innovate and just exists in time and space.

A prime example of this contrast is currently on display in a little Thai civil war going on near Pioneer Square. In one corner: upstart Thai 65 (93 Marion, $7.50-$9.50). In the other corner, your returning champion, cube worker fave Mae Phim (94 Columbia, everything $5.99).

These establishments are on opposite sides of the venerable Colman Building (which also houses the two Irish pubs Fadó and Owl & Thistle -- Fadó on First Avenue, Owl on the Post Alley side).

The basic ingredient set for Thai food is rice noodles, the sweet sauce, chilis, a vegetable assortment, meat or tofu, coconut milk (when called for), and BASIL.

Yet in terms of the final product Thai 65 and Mae Phim are light years apart.

Mae Phim (foam takeouts)

I've had a few dishes from Mae Phim (but not the soup), and what stands out is that nothing stands out. It all tastes the same -- and not in a good way. The way it's supposed to taste is stir-fried, but the way Mae Phim does it, it comes out tasting braised.

That is: simmered. As a result the flavor lacks the desired taste accompaniment to the sizzle you hear when Thai food is cooked right.

Other quibbles: too much coconut milk transforms braised into bland; small portions on top of a big pile of rice fools you into thinking you're getting more.

And perhaps the biggest sin -- not spicy enough. On the familiar 1-to-5 stars of Thai hotness, 3 is usually on the fence between medium-hot and almost-too-much. Mae Phim's 3 stars is a 1 everywhere else.

Thai 65 (paper takeouts)

On the other hand, Thai 65 is everything Mae Phim is not (and never was). Take a bite of cashew chicken or kra pao and and there it is -- the stir-fry zip and noticeable differentiation of flavors, even though you know both contain many of those same basic ingredients. The flavors are wok-fresh, whereas Mae Phim smacks of pre-cooking.

Especially good is the orange chicken -- not just sliced chicken in syrup, but breaded white meat, delicately soft on the outside, not hard and crusty. The orange sauce does not overpower.

Finally, a tip: Thai 65's hotness scale has a 1 handicap; a 3 is what every other Thai place calls a 4. So be warned.

Mae Phim est mort. Vive le Thai 65.