Trini's

1020 Howard Street
402.346.8400
Open Tues - Sat, lunch from 11:30am and dinner from 4pm
$1.99 Margs on Tues and Thurs, Happy Hour 4-6 Fri and Sat
trinisoldmarket.com

Enchilada de Jocoque (single lunch serving, $6.50):
Chicken in a sour cream sauce with monterey jack cheese,
and a side of "refritos" and rice.

Whether or not you choose to like Trini's shouldn't depend on its mainstream location, or the claim by fans that it's "pretty authentic." I would bus to the end of the Earth (West O) for Trini's, if I happened to be in the mood for supremely honk-ified Mexican-ish cuisine. There's nothing unique about this place, except maybe for the fact that it shares a wall with one of the most expensive restaurants in town. Despite this -- can I just sound like an upper middle class homemaker for a moment? -- the bathrooms, located a hallway and some stairs outside of the restaurant, were atrocious. On the other hand, if you're wandering around the Old Market and want to do something illegal, this is the bathroom for you.

One blackened tilapia fish taco in a deep-fried "puffy" taco shell ($6.95):
In case you're wondering, yes, I felt puffy afterwards.

The Spread

There was something nostalgic about the food in that this is the Mexican I ate as a child. I couldn't quite tell if the chips were made in-house, or whether the mild cilantro salsa was doctored up from out of a jar, but who cares. On the fish taco, the "house chipotle sauce" seeped into the "puffy" taco shell nicely, but didn't offer much of a chipotle flavor. Luckily, the "specially prepared greens" kept things light (kidding). I was impressed by the simple black beans and white rice, which they managed to turn into a rich, buttery treat. Ditto for the Enchilada de Jocoque and the accompanying refried beans. I imagined Julia Child's ghost in the kitchen, whispering, "If you're afraid of butter, use creeeeeeeeeam."

Trini's is great for indulging on standard Midwestmex, especially if you're looking for a nice, secluded restroom where TP isn't necessary.

Soft shell beef taco ($3.35):
Get your Taco Bell without all the late night drive thru hullabaloo.
(I'm looking at you, 38th and Dodge.)

Iowa State Fair 2012

August 9th - 19th, 7a.m. - 1a.m.
Iowa State Fairgrounds, Des Moines
iowastatefair.org

Cindy's Place, one of the many food stands,
offers "complete meals" of french fries and nachos to famished fair goers. 

Talk about a sensory overload. There's nothing quite like chowing on a lamb kebob while walking through a sheep barn, tasting the gamey deliciousness while smelling the poo and watching the wool being shorn.

Unlike a lot of outdoor summer events, the food here isn't just an afterthought meant to feed the crowds, should they rustle up a hunger while watching some crappy band or some fat dude swing a bat. The food at the Iowa State Fair is the main attraction. Granted, if I was the proud owner of the biggest boar in the state, I might beg to differ. But strolling past the stalls of mostly sedated livestock, all this city slicker could think was, "Where's the deep-fried butter?"

In the end, we went with this hunk of fried mac & cheese in lieu of the butter stick.
A bunch of pussies, the lot of us, I know.
Breading could have used a little more, err, seasoning.

Here you have the highlight, German Chocolate Funnel Cake,
complete with coconut cream goo, crushed pecans, and deep-fried chocolate batter.
Warm and fuzzy feeling that followed was undoubtedly the sensation of insulin production. 

This cheesesteak, ahem, Philly, was legit:
Fashioned from the mound of sizzling, chopped meat on the flat top grill,
topped with greasy onions and peppers and coated in a generous layer of Cheez-wiz. Real deal. 

Lamb brat, lamb breakfast sausage on a stick, and lamb kebob,
for sale right outside of the sheep barn.

Shorn sheep are very fashionable.

Strange, I don't remember seeing anything with horse meat on a stick?

It was only a matter of time before we hit the Iowa Craft Beer Tent.
Here's a delicious Slingshot Dunkel from Coralville's Backpocket Brewing Company. 

Beef and bean taco in a homemade crunchy corn tortilla,
just like someone's grandma used to make. 

If you've never had this, you probably don't have to.

Apple cider donettes, hot off the doughnut press.

I don't really like apples, but this one was damn good.

Doesn't look like much, but this if you examine closely you'll see Iowa's Blue Ribbon corn,
guarded by several rows of barricades. 

The Butter Cow:
A cow sculpted out of butter.
Making mouths water since 1911.

A cornbrat -- It was at this point my burps started smelling really weird.

Dude, stop hitting on the Pork Queen and get back to grilling your loins.
Her majesty is totally out of your league.

This life-sized, 850-pounder gives a whole new meaning to the term "Chocolate Moose."

"Iowa's Best Pizza" contenders rolling into the judging site. Umm. Yeah.

We came armed with plastic forks in our back pockets, a humble brigade of curious calorie hoarders. At first I thought we left victorious, but on the way home, I got methane poisoning from all the cow farts. Or maybe it was Veep candidate Paul Ryan's stupid checkered shirt and retarded remarks that nauseated me. It definitely had nothing to do with the amalgam of foodstuffs in my tummy.

If you can, do as 100,000 others do (daily) and hit up the Fair before it closes up this Sunday the 19th. As they say, it's "fairlicious."

But of course.

Ethiopian Restaurant

2555 Leavenworth Street
402.345.0265
Open daily for lunch and dinner

#12. Mahibrawi ($12): A little bit of everything

Strong, bitter, delicious coffee. Ethiopian Idol on TV. Large communal tables for families to sit and share with one another. And food with spices you're probably not used to.

If bland-tasting food is your thing -- and I know it is for many of us -- Ethiopian cuisine probably isn't for you. The overflowing bowl of chicken stew was reminiscent of Spanish adobo sauce, but there was something rather pungent in the spice mixture (berbere) that just didn't jive with my taste buds. After the meal I scoured the small grocery attached to the restaurant, trying to find the offending spice. Whether it was the fenugreek, rue, or possibly the korarima, I will never know. Recommending it would be like sticking something in your face and saying, "This smells really bad. Smell it."

#7: Doro wet ($7.49):
Traditional chicken stew topped with chicken leg and boiled egg.
In Ethiopian culture they must not have that "which came first" joke.

The Mahibrawi was the ultimate combo, served atop a large piece of the bread known as injera, which felt a lot like a cold, rubbery sex toy of some sort but tasted more like a sourdough pancake. Little piles of lentils, split peas, collard greens, and potatoes encircled a lamb shank that I will describe as "rustic." My favorite part was the ground fava beans, but that's 'cause I'm a yuppie hummus lover.

If you want to feel like a real Ethiopian, eat only with your right hand, and if you like forks and knives and no sharing, then you're S.O.L. Go earlier in the day before they start to run out of stuff, and only if you're in the mood for something new.

Ethiopian Coffee ($1.50)

Moonlighting

...as a freelance writer. Check it:

Much More Than Curry at Curri

Now That's What I Call a Drink

German Food Galore

Crystal Jade

7255 Cedar Street (north of Center on 72nd)
402.398.1688
Open for lunch and dinner daily
jadedinners.com

Spicy Pork Bulgogi ($7.95 lunch)

Take some decent but uniform "Pan Asian," add one part creepy vibe of former Village Inn, mixed with a dash of good old family-owned feeling, and a heavy dose of quirk (extensive girly fauxtini menu and a free beer for liking them on Facebook), and voila, you've got Crystal Jade.

Uncle Steve and Aunt Shirley are the peeps who run the place, and a quick scan of their booze menu would lead you to believe they're into having a good time: Everyday is "Happy Day" with $5 sake bombs, for example. Getting drunk would be trippy here, though; lunch was populated by large business groups and kids with Grandpa, all chowing down in a snazzed up former diner chain. The metal-backed chairs were cool, though.

Chicken Hot Garlic Sauce ($6.75 lunch)

As for the food, well, it was just as monochromatic as it looked in those Aksarben Cinema advertisements you may have seen before your movie. The Spicy Pork Bulgogi and the Chicken with Hot Garlic Sauce looked disturbingly similar, almost like they were cut from the same steam table pan. Major gripes include the absence of the advertised snow peas in the bulgogi, the utter lack of spiciness on menu items marked with the little red pepper (maybe they crank it up at dinner?), and the fried rice that tasted like white rice coated with some soy sauce. The good news was that I was hungry a few hours later, not because of MSG, but rather because everything tasted fresh and healthy. The veggies were crunchy, and nothing -- not even the hot and sour soup -- was too salty.

Sometimes I wonder if I just didn't order the "right thing." Props for the gluten-free and vegan dishes, but this wheat-eating omnivore is still on the search for great (Americanized) Chinese.

Egg Drop Soup

Hot & Sour Soup

Underwhelming Fried Rice

Barrett's Barleycorn

4322 Leavenworth Street
402.554.5805
Open daily for lunch and dinner 'til 11p.m., bar 'til 2a.m.
Monday is $5 burger night; go Thursday or Friday for the pork tenderloin.
barrettsomaha.com

Pork Tenderloin ($9.50) --
They cut it in half for a reason. 

My second visit to one of Midtown Omaha's staples left me a little confused as to why it's so goshdarn popular, but at the same time explained a few things for me (e.g. why Americans tend to be so obese). Here we have the very first place I ever dined in our fine city, some years ago. The reuben was forgettable; all I recall was my feeling of desperation as I scoured my iceberg salad for the last few bacon bits. It was time to give Barrett's another try.

Fortunately for my growling stomach, I remembered that Thursdays and Fridays are when Barrett's offers their famed Pork Tenderloin. Served on a sesame seed bun with an exorbitant amount of mayonnaise, the pork was exquisitely juicy, encased in a well-seasoned, not-too-thick layer of breading. Due to the (un)healthy slather of mayo, the stack of napkins on the table was necessary. And the crinkle cut fries were a joke. Still, the sandwich was so tasty, I'd say it's even worth braving the inside of a cramped sports bar during volleyball season.

Quite the opposite in quality, the beef in the French Dip did not appear to be US Foods' finest. Chewy around the edges and overall pretty dry, I've had better at Arby's. I didn't really know what to do with the heap of it, but it seemed counterintuitive to put it in my mouth.

French Dip ($7.95) 

Both sandwiches were insultingly and embarrassingly large in portion size. You can call it "value" or "bang for your buck" if you'd like, but there is really no reason for anyone to ever eat that much food in one sitting. But if you bring a buddy (or take a doggy bag), I suppose you needn't worry about spending all that food money you saved on your diabetes meds instead.


P.S. The freshly brewed iced tea -- though nothing special -- was refreshing, and the staff was obsessed with keeping our cups full.

Lighthouse Pizza

1004 South 74th Plaza (74th and Pacific)
402.932.6660
Mon-Thurs, Sun 11am to 10pm, Fri and Sat 11am to 3am
lhpizza.com

"Custom slice" Pepperoni and Mushroom ($4.99)

So I walk in, and the guy behind the counter says to me, "In case you haven't been here before, this is a New York style pizza joint." And so I says, "Yeah, well I'm from New York." I left out the part about how I was born in the city's Sixth Borough*, but to be clear, I'm the person who grabs a slice on the way to grab a slice. When I heard there was a self-proclaimed "New York style pizza place open late," I hopped on the subway (er, bus #11) and brought my appetite.

I skipped the Specialty Slice menu and went with a classic pep and mush. The mush were pretty mushy, and the pepperoni was more like sandwich salami, which was ok, but more appropriate on a hoagie. Moreover, the pepperoni was placed under the cheese, which is a full-fledged Midwestern practice, not East Coastian. The main problem, though, was the temperature. The slice came to me in under five minutes, but the crust felt and tasted undercooked, and the cheese would have melted more if I brought it outside and held it up to the sun. As a result, it had a soy cheese appearance -- which reminded me of Monsanto -- and I started to get upset. I was also perplexed by the side of Lighthouse sauce, since New Yorkers do not want or need to dip their pizza in anything, let alone salad dressing.

Lighthouse: I need you to do better. I need you to turn up the oven temp, or do whatever it is you need to do to get that crust browned and that shitty cheese melted. Wait, actually, get better cheese. Remember: Giant slices are only good if it's not a giant slice of crap. I might try you again in a few months to see if you've improved, but til then, I think you should actually take a trip to New York to see what it's all about, or at least hire me as your Pizza Advisor.

*That's what the hip people are calling Philadelphia these days.