Wednesday, September 14, 2005

Brownbag consistently and passionately enough and the foibles of fine dining will become apparent and lay themselves unto your feet. Lest I sound like a dick for stating this, I can assure you I have truth to share. Plenty of it, in fact. Keep in mind restaurant victuals almost always taste better than what I can cook, don’t get me wrong, and we’re not going to discuss the food itself. No, I want to talk about naming.

Have you ever felt slightly ashamed for ordering something? Occasionally there is a menu item named in such a way that the only thing you want to brownbag is your head, so great is the shame, yet you forge ahead and sound ridiculous anyway. It doesn’t really make sense, I know, but it’s definitely there.

One of my favorite haunts on Long Island christens its sandwiches with titles such as “Deathwish.” Le Peep, Evanston’s premier breakfast destination for new students and their parents, boasts a selection of skillets with names like “Desperado,” “Wanderer,” and “Gypsy.” Harry and David offer their “Maverick” line of blemished fruit. Let’s not forgot the “Horny Monkey” at Flat Top Grill or the “Rooty Tooty Fresh ‘N Fruity” at IHOP. I mean, shit.

I understand these aren’t four-star restaurants–probably the very concept of stars is foreign to their constellation–but these are the places people go. Am I more likely to blow a few hundred dollars at Chef’s Station or go to Chili’s? You get three guesses. Besides, the menus at fancy places are usually written in foreign languages, and who really has time for gibberish?

You probably know where this is headed. That’s right! It’s time to make our own crazy dishes. I’d argue the skillets at Le Peep rank among the most ridiculously named, mainly because the gradient between food and moniker is so large. Why name mixtures of eggs, potatoes, and cheese after the dubious elements of society? Because skillets, y’know, hazardous.

Whore Wheat Pancakes
Sinfully delicious. Seductively easy. Our loose and fluffy–did we mention loose?–pancakes will dirty your napkin and then some…for the right price. Try with Oh Christ Not the Clap Again Hashbrowns.

The Nonconformist
Is it a donut? Where is the hole? And why does it cluck? We can’t parse it, so you have to eat it. Down with the Man and maybe a warm glass of milk. Served with thick, black-rimmed glasses.

Suicide Platter
It’s an explosion of taste, but don’t duck under your table! Sample all our appetizers at a price that can’t be beaten or killed. Guaranteed to have even the godless heathens licking their lips–and then the sweet nectar of retribution! Includes your choice of medium Cole Slaughter or a giant Infidill Pickle.

The Rapist of Bohemia
Watch your back, because this bucket of wings will violate your culinary boundaries. Ask about our special sauce, but until then? Tell your tastebuds to hold still.