It's Like Southern Tapas - The Tasting Room - Winter Garden, Florida

Happy Saturday, LilyOnTheLam.Com Readers!

To get your weekend started right, I would like to share with you one of my favorite restaurants that you should definitely try if you are in or near Central Florida.  

In the cozy, charming little city of Winter Garden, Florida is a historic downtown area that I love to visit.  In the center of this area is the Historic Edgewater Hotel.  On the first floor of the hotel is a fabulous restaurant that has received much acclaim called "The Chef's Table."  But my favorite part is the bar/patio of the restaurant which is "The Tasting Room" where you can get Southern-style tapas and incredible cocktails.  

Throw this all together and you get the multi-word title of the restaurant which is called "The Tasting Room at The Chef's Table at the Edgewater Hotel."

I have been to this restaurant several times.  In fact any time I am near the Orlando area, I try to make time to visit The Tasting Room.  And it NEVER disappoints.  When the weather is beautiful, I love sitting outside on the patio with friends.  Even better is timing it when they are doing a music series in the main square park across from the restaurant.  Who doesn't love live music with their al fresco dinner?

The most recent time I have been to The Tasting Room was with one of my foodie partners in crime, Ms. Wrigleyville.  We were starving after a busy day of shopping (it's hard work, people) and we knew that a meal at The Tasting Room would make us happy little foodies.  We arrived and basically ordered EVERYTHING.  Here is a look at all the lovely edibles we sampled ...

First - for me, a jalapeño margarita hold the cilantro.  I am one of the select percentage of the population who have the genetic variant that makes them hate cilantro.  My sister also has the same gene variation.  Our mother, on the other hand, loves it and cannot get enough of it.  A childhood of smelling cilantro (or as my Mother refers to it "Chinese Parsley") was enough to turn me off for life.  

This Jalapeño Margarita from The Tasting Room (called The Muerto Verde with five pepper infused tequila) is one of my favorites.

After I had my cocktail in hand, Ms. Wrigleyville and I ordered the Muffaletta Sliders - mini muffaletta sandwiches.  I looooooove Muffaletta sandwiches.  I believe the secret is in the olive salad and the bread.  The best olive salad (in my opinion) comes from Central Grocery and Deli in New Orleans, Louisiana.  But as I am not rich enough to fly to New Orleans whenever I want a good olive salad, locally I go to Mazzaro's Italian Market in St. Petersburg, Florida.  Their olive salad is not as good as Central Grocery's, but it is still pretty darn tasty.  

These mini muffalettas were toasted which gave a nice crunchiness to the bread and an oozy juicy savoriness to the fillings.  This was the perfect start to our Tasting Room experience.  

Next was a newer item on the Tasting Room's menu - PIMENTO CHEESE.  I had never had the Southern staple, Pimento Cheese, until I went to Nashville, Tennessee.  (Read my 12 Things to do in Nashville blog post here.)  I am now a Pimento Cheese believer.  This was not the absolute best Pimento Cheese I have ever had, but I would say that The Tasting Room's Pimento Cheese was in the Top Three.  Sharp cheddar, savory pimento and crisp lavash style crackers.  

Next up was The Tasting Room Empanadas - slow braised ox tail with a mango cilantro salsa.  Even with my sharp distaste for cilantro, these empanadas rocked the house.  The ox tail was extremely tender and the salsa gave a nice kick.

If you're a regular LilyOnTheLam.Com Reader, you will know I am known for two things - my 1034 cats and my love for arancini - Italian risotto balls.  When I saw that Shrimp Arancini - etouffe risotto balls with Gulf shrimp and a creole aioli were on the Tasting Room's menu - I knew we had to order them.  These crisp little deep-fried balls of love certainly delivered.  

We noticed that several of our items had the same creole sauce, but since this sauce was crazy tasty we did not mind at all.

I'd like to say we ended our dinner at The Tasting Room at The Chef's Table at The Edgewater Hotel on a light note, but ohhhhh nooooo ... when you're having Southern-style tapas, you need to go whole hog and go for the Fried Green Tomatoes.  But not just any fried green tomatoes -- noo, a stack of fried green tomatoes with crab and house cured Bacon Maque Choux (which is usually a corn, onion and tomato mixture).

I am not a stranger to the fried green onion stack and this was definitely one of my favorites of all that I have tried.  I would have liked the tomato to have been cooked about a minute less, but otherwise it was sheer gastronomic gluttony in a tower formation.  The crab was big puffy chunks of seafood deliciousness that "lightened" up the fried tomato.  A great combination.

Other items that I love from The Tasting Room menu from my previous visits are: the Mini Beef Wellington Trio (soooo freaking good!), the New Orleans BBQ Shrimp and Heirloom Cheese grits (this was the ONLY time I have not ordered them, it is a Lily Must Order), the Smoked Fish Dip, the Duck Fat French Fries, the Fish Tacos and the Pan Seared Scallops.  

I had ordered the onion and potato galette once.  The potatoes were undercooked and it had the rare distinction of being one of the only dishes I did not enjoy at The Tasting Room.  

I have never had dessert at The Tasting Room - as you can see from what Ms. Wrigleyville and I ordered, there simply was no room.  They do have mini desserts for those who have a mini amount of room left.  They look quite lovely and maybe one day I will experience them.

Lucky for us, Winter Garden's historic downtown area is the perfect place for an after dinner walk.  We window shopped and tried to burn off a couple of the calories after the great Southern-style tapas feast we devoured.  It makes for a lovely evening - dinner and a stroll.

The Historic Edgewater Hotel also has a Thai restaurant called Thai Blossom that I vow one day I will try, but it is simply difficult to go anywhere else in Winter Garden when The Tasting Room is just sooooo good.  If you're in Central Florida, you must check it out!

Have a great weekend!

    

The Best Cheese Grits in America

Happy Monday, LilyOnTheLam.Com Readers!

I had been traveling for almost three weeks recently - luxurious vacation time in Las Vegas and New York City and then a work trip to Raleigh-Durham, North Carolina.  I ate too much.  I drank too much.  My body was NOT a happy camper.  But on the bright side, I have a new "Number Three" in my "Top Three Best Cheese Grits in America" list.

From absolute best to incredible best to wonderful best, here are my top three ...

1)  The now closed Bailey's Restaurant in Tampa Bay, "Southern Gentleman Grits."  Mr. Kim Bailey still runs a catering business.  I sometimes wonder how much his minimum catering order is.  I fantasize about ordering a giant batch of his Southern Gentleman Grits and then inviting friends to get some big spoons and come on over!

Sadly, I have no picture of the Southern Gentleman Grits- so here's a picture of my kitten instead.

Cat - Not Grits.

2)  The Rib Room in New Orleans, LA and their Creole Grits. Their Prime Rib Debris Po'Boy (debris as in shreds of meat) with a side of Creole Grits is one of the most decadent meals you can have in New Orleans.  (Mr. B's Bistro's Barbecued Shrimp being right up there with decadence and deliciousness too!  Any meal where a guy has to come up to you and put a bib on you before you begin is bound to be amazing!)  Their creole grits are almost a tie with Kim Bailey's grits - lush luxury in a white creamy rich mouthful with a drizzle of hot creole sauce on top! 

Creamed Spinach and Creole Grits at The Rib Room in New Orleans, LA

The Monster Stuffed Prime Rob Debris Po'Boy from The Rib Room in New Orleans, LA -
this sandwich is bigger than your head!

and now my NEW number three for "Best Cheese Grits in America is …

3)  The cheese grits that come with the shrimp and grits at The Piney Point Grill and Seafood at the Doubletree Suites Raleigh-Durham on Meridian Parkway.  Their shrimp and grits  include jumbo shrimp with smoked bacon pieces, garlic, mushrooms and cherry tomatoes on a bed of Old Mill of Guilford White Cheddar Grits.  

I had never heard of "Old Mill of Guilford" but apparently it's been around since 1767 in North Carolina and you can purchase a wide variety of their products online.  I am sure the grits plus 2000 pounds of butter, cream and cheese are what makes Piney Point's grits so darn tasty.  

What's worse is that if you're staying at the hotel, you can have these decadent grits delivered to your room.  Which I did not just once, but twice during my four night stay!  Some food should not be available to be delivered to your door any hour of the day, at your beck and call!

I used to not understand why people liked grits.  I like corn.  I like polenta.  I don't like cornbread.  And I always thought grits tasted like weak, bland porridge with a weird texture.  But once I had Kim Bailey's Southern Gentlemen Grits, I was inspired to try grits.  Sure my favorite grits are ones that are a vehicle for a huge dose of fat and cheese, but hey … if you're going to inhale a large amount of calories it might as well be on something REALLY TASTY.

A somewhat honorable mention goes to the Jalapeño Cheese Grits from the Chef John Besh Restaurant "The American Sector" at the National World War II Museum in New Orleans, LA.  I had really been looking forward to lunch at this restaurant, but the food and the specialty cocktails were disappointing and the customer service was abhorrent.  The decor was gorgeous and the Jalapeño Cheese Grits were pretty tasty - the only bright spot in the meal.  

However I strongly recommend that if you're in New Orleans that you make time for the National World War II Museum.  It is incredible and the Tom Hanks narrated 4D show "Beyond All Boundaries" will blow your mind!

(Side Note:  I had the third best cheese in grits in North Carolina but I also had the WORST shrimp and grits there too!  Check out my review here.) 

I'm home now from my many travels.  I am eating a lot more healthy and sensibly.  But the memories of all those delicious cheese grits make me smile! 

You Gotsta Mooooooove! Breakfast and Ghosts in New Orleans

Hello LilyOnTheLam.Com Readers:

Perhaps it was excitement or a new bed in a strange place or the extra large frozen cafe au lait I had the night before, but I could not sleep at all my first night in New Orleans.  I tossed and turned all night long.  When I finally left my bed at 6:30 a.m., my hair looked like I had a faux hawk.

I had purposely set my alarm clock for 6:30 a.m.  I wanted an early start on the day where I could walk around the French Quarter without sweating profusely.  Unfortunately, it was already 81 degrees at 7:20 a.m. when I left the hotel.  

Not to get too personal, but I am one Sweaty Betty.  I could be at the Arctic Circle and be complaining of the heat.  So New Orleans in July?  It was like my sweat glands were a running faucet.  I was soaked in minutes.  Tasty!

Other than the heat, I love the French Quarter in the early morning.  I like to go to Jackson Square and Louis Armstrong Park and all throughout the French Quarter.  The air smelled like Lemon Pledge as a truck whipped through the streets spraying foam.  I have seen people hosing off the streets before, but artificial lemon-scented suds?  I guess lemon masks the smell of sin, vomit and feces.

Truck spraying foam on the streets of the French Quarter

Can streetwashing scrub off the sin of New Orleans' French Quarter?

Trail of Foam

Oh and speaking of feces ... when I go to New York and Paris I play this game - I ask "What's that smell?"  And the answer is always "Urine."  

In New Orleans the answer to "What's that smell?" is always "Feces."  Nothing like a good deep inhale of feces-scented air in the morning to make you feel ALIVE!  

At first, I thought the feces smell was from the horse drawn carriages that line Jackson Square.  But as I walked around the French Quarter, I determined that the smell was most likely from dog sh*t and possibly human excrement too.  People, curb your dogs!  And yourselves!  If you're going to own a dog, pick up its poop!  I scoop cat sh*t every week.  Do I enjoy it?  NO.  But do I do it?  Yes!  And you can too!

It's been quite some time since I have been to New Orleans, so I did some advanced research before arriving.  This is important because invariably I will become intoxicated and then have no idea where I should go except to the next bar.  Advanced planning is key if you want to be guaranteed to see some good sights, do some good shopping and have a good meal.  

I was whipping through various foodie blogs and I saw a picture of eggs Benedict - but not any eggs benedict - a jaunty tower of eggs Benedict.  Thick logs of French bread hoisting up glorious poached eggs under a thin blanket of Creole Hollandaise.  WHAT WAS THIS AND WHERE COULD I GET IT?  The answer?  No, not feces this time.  The answer to where to get this wonderful breakfast was Stanley Restaurant - the sister restaurant to Restaurant Stella.  (Stanley and Stella from A Streetcar Named Desire of course.)

Breaux Bridge Benedict - Stanley Restaurant - New Orleans

I arrived at Stanley eager to try the towering Benedict.  Stanley is located right next to Jackson Square.  From my table I could watch the street kids and the aged fortune tellers grabbing choice benches for the day.

Interior of Stanley Restaurant - New Orleans

The restaurant is bright with clean lines but still a rustic, old New Orleans feel.  The staff is nice, kind, welcoming and attentive.  The large windows makes this a perfect spot to enjoy the air conditioning and watch the world go by.

I knew before arriving that I would be ordering the Breaux Bridge Benedict.  The Benedict had house made boudin sausage- rice, pork, green peppers, onions and seasonings.  In France, "boudin" means blood sausage but what arrived on my plate was nice little pork and rice patties.

The Benedict was perched atop two large slabs of French baguette that had been fried on both ends.  The boudin patties, slices of American cheese, two poached eggs and Creole Hollandaise with a shower of smoked ham squares garnishing the plate.

I was surprised by use of American cheese, but it did blend well with the smoky and rich flavors.

But before I could order the Breaux Bridge Benedict, another breakfast item caught my eye.

Bananas Foster French Toast!  French bread with sliced bananas, toasted walnuts and a Bananas Foster sauce.  Oh and ... vanilla bean ice cream.  Sigh.  It sounded delicious.  But ice cream at 7:30 a.m.?  I just felt like if I started my day with ice cream it would be all downhill from there.  What would be next?  Beignets at 9 a.m.?  Pralines at 11 a.m.?  Mainlining rock sugar by Noon?  Passed out in the gutter, covered in artificial lemon foam by 2 p.m.?  I just couldn't do it.  I have young cats to raise and so much to live for!

I ordered the Breaux Bridge Benedict, a side of Creole Potatoes and a cup of coffee.  I love coffee in New Orleans.  Maybe its the added chicory.  Maybe you just need some strong caffeine to cut through the fat and alcohol that seems to enter your system by osmosis just walking through the French Quarter.    

I put in two little buckets of half and half in this coffee and it barely changed the color.  That's some strong coffee, baby!

Ringo Starr singing "With A Little Help From My Friends" filled the air of the small restaurant and I felt completely at peace.  This was a great start to the day.

While the Breaux Bridge Benedict was amazingly good - the right combination of flavors with a nice kick of Cajun heat.  The Creole Potatoes were a miss.  The huge chunks of potato were undercooked and completely over-seasoned.  At first bite they were bland with no discernible flavor.  Then suddenly a powerful kick of heat knocks you back.  I took a few bites and that was enough for me.  I normally would have packaged up my leftovers for one of the homeless people in the Quarter but the potatoes were so sad, I wouldn't do that to a fellow human!

Next one of my favorite songs from long, long, long ago started - The Cure's "Just Like Heaven."  Did someone steal my iPod to DJ at the restaurant?  

I took the picture below to show a cross-section of the pork and rice boudin sausage and crusty French bread.  If you're in New Orleans you really have to try this Breaux Bridge Benedict at Stanley Restaurant.

After my hearty breakfast, I set out walking along the French Quarter.  None of the shops were open as it was barely 8:30 a.m.  But I enjoyed window shopping and making notes of stores I would like to hit later in the day.  

I forget how friendly everyone in New Orleans is.  Everyone said hello or wished me a good morning as I walked by.  Seeing that I was sweating like I was about to lie on the witness stand, I actually wish people would be a little less friendly.  "I think I'll say hello to that lady who looks like she fell in Lake Pontchartrain!"   

I was walking up Bourbon Street when I had this sudden urge that I needed to walk to the other side of the street.  I didn't know why.  I was toward the end of the French Quarter and both sides of the street were residential.  There was no one on either side of the street except for myself.  Why did I need to cross the street?  The urge grew more intense.  I scoffed - "I'm fine on this side of the street.  Why would I need to cross over?"  

Then suddenly I felt a pressure on my back as if I was being pushed.  But no one was around me.  I could hear an older woman's raspy voice in my ear saying insistently "You Gotsta MOOOOOOOVE!"    

Well that was all I needed to hear!  

I walked across the street right away - jaywalking across the middle to get to the other side.

Once safely across the street, I stared over at the other side, waiting.  I thought maybe a piano would fall from the sky and land at the spot I had previously been walking.  

But no - nothing.  

Evidently I had crossed paths with a ghost who just didn't want me on her side of Calle de Borbon (Bourbon Street).   

I just shook my head and laughed it off.  The crazy Crescent City and their ghosts.  

Stay tuned to LilyOnTheLam.com for more NOLA adventures!

Bitches and Beignets - New Orleans, Louisiana

Hello LilyOnTheLam.Com Readers!

My Life on the Lam has led me to one of my favorite cities - New Orleans, Louisiana.  

New Orleans is to me what Sedona, Arizona is to many people - the air is thick with spirits and an almost magnetic pull.  It feels like coming home when I am in New Orleans.  If past lives are a true thing, I definitely spent a past life in New Orleans.  I can feel it in my bones.

After my plane had boarded in Tampa bound for New Orleans, a flight attendant found a neck pillow and a bag that did not belong to anyone on the flight.  Some passengers mumbled that there was a man who came on board and put the items down and then walked away.  I started getting slightly anxious - in a post 9/11 world, I feel like anything is possible when it comes to terror and crime.  

The gate rep kept calling out asking if anyone owned the bag.  No takers.  They took the bag off the plane.  I saw the flight attendants talking with the Pilot.  It is my understanding that it is the Pilot's ultimate decision whether to fly if something smells fishy.  Unattended baggage is something that smells fishy to me!  

The plane took off and I said a prayer that the bag they took off the plane didn't blow up the Tampa airport.

I landed in New Orleans safe and sound.  No exploding neck pillows or terrorist takeovers.  

After checking in to my hotel in the Vieux Carre (Old Square) a.k.a. French Quarter, I walked through Jackson Square.  A skinny, rough looking woman (meth addict, perhaps?) was walking alongside the square shouting at the fortune tellers who were holding court at small fold up tables.  

The woman would point at one woman and shout "There's a bitch" and then point at another and shout "And she's a bitch too."  

I watched her walking toward me pointing at every woman she saw and screaming "There's a bitch.  She's a bitch!"  She would flail her finger back and forth like she was handing out scarlet letter B's.  

Eventually her finger landed in my direction before she even looked at me.  I saw the bony finger pointed right at me and saw her head start to turn toward me.  She started to say "And there's a---" but then she looked at me and went silent.  Her mouth a suffocating fish.  Her eyes bugged out at me. She stared at me, mute and mouth agape.

I will admit that with dark hair, dark eyes rimmed with sleep deprivation and black eye liner and a colorful prayer shawl I looked pretty voodoo witchy.  The (alleged) meth addict's mouth was now slack-jawed as she stared at me with finger still extended.  I looked her dead in the eye and she dropped her finger.  She kept walking.

Once she had walked past me she resumed her tirade screaming "Bitch!" to other women in Jackson Square.  

I'm not sure exactly what about me briefly silenced the meth head.  I must have had my "You don't want to f*ck with me, woman!" vibe turned up super high.  

I like to think she thought I was a Voodoo Priestess, but maybe it's just because of all the women the meth head was screaming at - I was the one who was close enough to actually punch her.    

If you're keeping score - it is now 2 - 1 point for not dying in a plane bombing and 1 point for being the only woman in Jackson Square that wasn't called bitch by a meth head.

I believe that is what is called "winning."

I decided to celebrate at one of my favorite institutions - the original Cafe Du Monde at The French Market.

Frozen cafe au lait, regular cafe au lait and beignets covered in mounds of powdered sugar served on patio tables.  Simple and yet so wonderful.

The Original Cafe Du Monde at The French Market by Night

Cafe Du Monde at early morning

I could hear Jack Kerouac's "MacDougal Street Blues - Canto Uno" being whispered in my head as I watched giddy tourists taking first bites of hot, slightly oily, tender, chewy beignets.  "One moment less than this/Is future nothingness already."  

There is something so peaceful in sitting lazily with deep fried confections and rich, strong coffee observing the microcosm of French Quarter patrons at play.  I felt a calm and relaxed state washing over me - better than any meditation class.  This was New Orleans.  This was zen.    

I don't think people tip well (or at all?) at Cafe Du Monde, because my server looked like she was going to hug me when I gave a 27% tip.  (Which trust me wasn't much money for coffee and beignets.)  Her smile was so bright!  

Zen + Making A Server's Evening = Happy Lily.

When I returned to my hotel, a couple exited the elevator on the same floor I was staying on.  The gentleman turned to the woman and said "I wish they hadn't put us on the haunted floor."  

I did a double take!  

Excuse me, WHAT?  

And then remembered that yes indeed, my hotel was known for being haunted.  I checked Google and discovered that the gentleman was wrong - it was two other floors in the hotel that are supposedly haunted, but not the one we were staying on.

I am not sure if that is a good thing or a disappointing thing!

The night is alive in New Orleans with spirits, alcohol and giddiness.  I look forward to the natural and supernatural adventures in store for me with a belly full of beignets and a non-bitch status!  Who knows what will happen next?

Back of St. Louis Cathedral by night

Stay tuned to LilyOnTheLam.com for more N'Orleans adventures!