The Green Owl Cafe

The Green Owl Café
http://www.greenowlcafe.com/
1970 Atwood Avenue, Madison, WI 53704
QISA (4, 4, 3.5, 3.5), $10-13.50, Vegetarian (Vegan-friendly)

I was pretty surprised to find out that Madison, Wisconsin only has one all-vegetarian restaurant (not including it’s one vegan coffee shop). Only one? What’s up with that? Isn’t this supposed to be a bastion of college town liberal elite in a purplish swing state? Where are the hordes of college professors demanding vegan meatballs? Where are the ex-hippies hunting for the best kale slaw? Where do the small-town Midwest male students take their hot West Coast dates to prove their liberal credentials, and thereby show their undying devotion? Only one restaurant?

To be fair, I discovered that my assumptions of Madison’s demographics were a bit overblown. Despite being a progressive college town, Madison is not quite as liberal as you might think. Ironically, the University of Wisconsin is much more politically centric than the rest of the town itself. Furthermore, maybe it is not too surprising to have a dearth of vegetarian restaurants in a state whose favorite vegetable is beer-battered cheese curds.

Luckily, the mantle of sole vegetarian restaurant in Madison is borne by The Green Owl Café, a pretty decent near-vegan restaurant whose focus dances between ECLECTIC and COMFORT.

I entered the restaurant to be greeted by a seemingly standard hipster food emporium with unobtrusive green and yellow décor and an eclectic supply of photographs and posters. On one wall I found a map of the Madison Underground. On another, facing me, were black and white head shot photos of goats and ducks from the Heartland Farm Sanctuary, a nonprofit organization dedicated to helping homeless farm animals in Wisconsin. Actually, I found the duck’s glamor shot a bit unsettling since he was staring at me throughout my meal, as if to say, “I’m watching you. Don’t you even THINK about backsliding, you carnivore-wannabe you!”

The clientele was a little less hipster-standard. Though most of the patrons were in their 20s and 30s, they looked like standard college students and business-casual professionals. Only the waitresses sported multiple tattoos and piercings.

I visited the restaurant on two separate occasions which afforded me the opportunity to try an ample number of dishes. On my first visit, I ordered the jambalaya and corn bread which came with a side of steamed kale. The jambalaya was a smoky mix of beans, grains, tomato, onion, celery, and big chunks of tempeh. It was moderately spicy with a wonderful flavor and texture. The cornbread had a nice roasted corn flavor, but in truth was a little too dry. The steamed kale was cooked just enough to retain a small amount of crunch, and its mild flavor was a perfect balance for the spicy stew. I also ordered a separate side of kale chips, just to try them, which were pleasantly crunchy, tasting mildly of olive oil, and just salty and savory enough to cut the bitterness of the kale. The ginger hibiscus kombucha had a faint ginger flavor, but since I am not an experienced kombucha aficionado, I am probably not the best judge of its character.

On my second trip, I ordered the vegan seitan schnitzel with porcini mushroom sauce, which came with roasted potatoes and steamed broccoli. The breaded schnitzel was very nice, mildly chewy but not tough. The mushroom sauce was chunky and creamy with a winey background flavor that gave it terrific complexity and body. Unfortunately, the potatoes were were too overdone, making them tough on the outside. The broccoli, although steamed perfectly to fork-tenderness, was pretty bland. I also ordered a Barrett’s Ginger Beer, which was reasonably good but not noticeably fantastic. And since I am most definitely an aficionado of ginger beer, you can take that to the bank.

I would definitely recommend The Green Owl, but I give its quality score a conditional 4. What they do well, they do very well. What they don’t do well, they do mediocrely. And as the only vegan game in town, they might feel comfortable to sit on their laurels and polish their many local awards.

However, one of these days, an enterprising entrepreneur from San Francisco, New York, Boulder, or even Ann Arbor (which has at least five vegetarian restaurants thank you very much) is going to recognize this town as a land of opportunity and set up a competing vegetarian establishment. Some Green Carpetbagger will stroll in with his or her own seitan banh mi or barbecue tofu or tempeh jambalaya and raise the expectations and quality of vegan fare in Madison. On that day, advertising will get competitive, loyalties will be tested, and the market price of kale will shoot through the roof. Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy. I can’t wait.

Psychedelic Healing Shack

Psychedelic Healing Shack
http://www.psychedelichealingshack.com/
18700 Woodward (S. of 7 Mile), Detroit, MI
QISA (3.5, 3.5, 3.5, 3.5), $7-12, Vegetarian

There is so much to describe about the Psychedelic Healing Shack and Vegetarian Café that I honestly don’t know where to begin. I have facts to relay, experiences to share, opinions to opine, colors to comment on, and, and…perhaps it would be better to remove all emotion and simply document my evening.

I entered the establishment at night so unfortunately I could not experience the full effect of the colorful hippie paint job covering the entire restaurant. Please note that “hippie paint job” is not an opinion. The proprietors describe themselves as hippies, so I am not making a judgement here, good or bad. But I digress.

I entered the colorful establishment, walking past the log bench, pond, rock garden, and tree house. I stopped at the Goddess Herb Shop in the center of the building until a nice lady, who first asked if I was there to see Dr. Bob, pointed me to the restaurant to the right. The small cafe comprised a single table, a bar next to the kitchen, a piano, a set of hand drums, and a guitar. Since the lone table was occupied by a college-age couple, I sat down at the bar and selected one of the paper menus. These menus, I should note, were printed upside down on the inside, so I immediately had to turn the entire thing over after opening it. After perusing the selections, I opted for the Namaste Nachos and the Euphoric Cacao Smoothie. Again, these are not judgements. These are actual menu items.

The young slightly scruffy Caucasian chef with medium-long hair stepped to the bar to take my order. He disappeared again to make the nachos.

A shabby-looking, late middle-aged African-American man named “Freddie” (not his real name), with missing front teeth and many layers of pre-owned winter clothing, ambled across the room mumbling to himself. Freddie was greeted by name by the chef and was told that Chuck (possibly his real name, I can’t actually remember) would be here soon to take him home. Freddie wandered behind the bar, muttering loudly about the chef (who he obviously trusted), about music, about Chuck (wherever he was), about the floor, about food, about straws, about well, at a certain point I found it both impolite to listen and impossible to understand him.

Dr. Bob (Dr. Robert Pizzimenti), who owns the entire establishment, came over to say hello and shake my hand. Dr. Bob is a chiropractor who also sells medicinal herbs, serves organic food, and hosts musical events; all part of the healing process. Dr. Bob made sure I knew about their two types of bean soups and lectured me a bit about the healing power of food. He also mentioned that he was running for mayor of Detroit. Dr. Bob left to go take care of something in another part of the building.

The chef stepped out from the kitchen to go find more tortilla chips. The chef came back.

Freddie then came out from the bar and plucked out a tune on the piano. He then picked up the guitar and played something slightly bluesy and almost music.

The chef brought me out my nachos and then went back into the kitchen to start making my smoothie. I casually noticed that the chalkboard menu included “vegatable soup” and “lentel soup.”

A quartet of college kids (four attractive women and one obviously friend-zoned male) came out from a back room and took their place at the table. The friend-zoned male picked up the guitar and played a pretty melody. Freddie ambled over to greet them. One of the pretty blondes mentioned that it was her birthday. Freddie smiled a toothless grin and gave her a big hug. He then proceeded to give the other pretty blond a hug. The aforementioned Chuck came in to the restaurant and told Freddie it was time to go home. Chuck, a self-described hippie who was seemingly stamped from the same mold as David Cross and Robert Picardo, sized me up at the bar, asked why I was there, and then commented on my white Garmin Vivofit 3 which he had initially mistaken for a hospital band. I realized that he was simply trying to figure out how many people he was driving home that evening.

The chef brought out my smoothie. Crosby, Stills, and Nash were playing on the loudspeaker.

Chuck sent Freddie to the back room to wait for him and then apologized to the college kids. “Freddie has a problem with drinking. But then we all have problems, right?” Chuck then proceeded to take on the role as hippie guru, asking the kids what drugs they were into these days, dropping bits of wisdom like, “you know what the new high is these days? Sobriety!”, and comparing notes with the kids on the effects of recreational Adderall.

Freddie came back into the room, walked behind the bar, and proceeded to take things in and out of containers, all while carrying on a barely audible, but clearly intentional dialog to himself. Chuck continued to lecture the kids. I ate my nachos and drank my smoothie.

Dr. Bob came back from his chiropractic office on the other side of the building to help serve food, chat with the kids, and encourage Chuck to take Freddie home. Chuck then came over to me to have a more amiable, less suspicious conversation about where I was from, how I found the place, and what were the origins of my surname. The Millenials jumped into to help him guess. “Polish,” said one girl. “Irish,” said the birthday girl. “German,” said the brunette female. “My friend’s name is also Winicur,” the birthday girl mentioned. “And she is from…” I prompted. There were a full 3 milliseconds of silence. “Russian,” I finally handed them. “Zev,” I told them, “is a Hebrew name.” The kids went back to their food and standard Millennial banter while Chuck told me all about his Chasidic friend who could party like the best of them.

And then I blinked and Chuck, Freddie, the Millennials, and Dr. Bob disappeared. I paid the Chef and left. That was my evening.

The food and smoothie were quite decent, although not terribly exotic or creatively blended. The nachos were tasty and piled high, a mix of chips, black bean chili, cheese, lettuce, onions, and a hot sauce that tasted suspiciously like Taco Bell’s packet sauce. The smoothie, made from almond milk, banana, and cacao powder, was thick and chocolately like a Wendy’s Frosty, just without the carrageenan, fat, or bourgeois commercialism aftertaste.

Will I come back? Most definitely. How often am I personally greeted by the owner of the establishment? How often do I get to hear a hippie engineer lecture on drugs, travel, and changing the world? How often do I get a dramatic soliloquy from an inebriated transient in the safe, controlled confines of a kitchen?

However, I understand if the Psychedelic Healing Shack is just not your bag. A groovy righteous establishment like this is probably too fab for you squares. I’m sure there’s a McDonald’s down the street somewhere.

Greenspace Cafe

Greenspace Cafe
http://greenspacecafe.com/
215 West Nine Mile Road, Ferndale, MI 48220
QISA (4, 4, 4, 4), $13-20, Vegan

While looking for a new vegetarian restaurant to patronize in the Detroit Metro area, I came upon Greenspace Cafe, a fancy, vegan, kosher restaurant and bar along the fashionable Nine Mile Road in downtown Ferndale, just north of Detroit proper. The restaurant was started by Dr. Joel Kahn, a “plant-based cardiologist who combines the best of Western and complementary therapies for total healing.” Kahn, who was voted “Sexiest Male Vegan Over 50 by PeTA,” has created a plant-based restaurant and bar “inspired by health, as well as global culinary traditions and Detroit’s exciting artisan food culture.” His restaurant focuses on subtle flavors, textural variety, and fresh ingredients. The mixed drinks incorporate the therapeutic benefits of various fruits and botanicals and uses raw organic juices to become healthier versions of their standard form.

There was no way in Hell I was missing out on this one.

With its wooden Jenga block art motif and slightly too loud music, the restaurant was clearly going for a trendy vibe to wrap around its healthy vegan focus. However, the wait staff were very friendly, and the clientele included everyone from swanky 20-somethings, to middle-aged men and women in business suits, to elderly refugees from old Jewish diners. I felt perfectly at home.

I started with an Autumn’s Cup, a cocktail of cardamom birch bark infused rum, Saskatoon jam, fresh lime, orange bitters, and a wedge of blood orange. Although the drink started on the palate like a standard citrusy cocktail, it had a complexity that made you sit and think while exotic flavors danced at the borders of your subconscious. I felt all sorts of sophisticated.

I then began my meal with a cup of red lentil shorba, a North African stew with a dollop of green chermoula in the center that provided a sharp tangy contrast to the mild, comforting soup. The entire dish was artfully decorated by a swirl of cashew labneh on the top. And now, thanks to Wikipedia, I know that chermoula is a lemony marinade used in Tunisian and Moroccan cooking. Shorba is a type of stew found in the Balkans, North Africa, Eastern Europe, Central Asia, South Asia, and the Middle East. And labneh is a strained yoghurt cheese. I felt all kinds of cosmopolitan with my new found worldly knowledge.

Finally, I got to my main course, a Chiapas Bowl, which was an esthetically rendered mix of seasoned black beans, chips, greens, quinoa, corn, and tofu, each residing in its own sector. The dish was a work of art unto itself. Although it was marked “spicy” on the menu, it wasn’t really. Rather, the flavors were subtle, focusing more on the inherit flavors of each ingredient, brought out through gentle cooking. “Oh,” I found myself saying, “That’s what quinoa is supposed to taste like.” The tofu, which was a local organic Michigan product called Panda Brand, was lightly marinated and baked, giving it a strong texture but mild flavor.

For dessert, I had a piece of turtle cheesecake. The cheesecake was a little small for its $8.00 cost, but considering how full I already was, it was the perfect denouement to the meal. The cheesecake had a slightly yoghurty tang that seems to be typical of vegan cheesecakes, but it had a ribbon of chocolate throughout, and it was covered with chocolate and caramel sauces that upped the decadence factor. The crust was a chocolate coconut crust, which was a different take on the standard crumb crust, but very effective and very delicious.

The restaurant is certified kosher by Kosher Michigan, which makes it the perfect place to take your Jewish vegan date. And the prices are quite reasonable for this type of restaurant, which means you can impress your date without wiping out your bank account. In fact, men, I would recommend you target Jewish vegan women and put Greenspace Cafe in your arsenal of romantic moves. It will show your woman that you are a self-confident, sophisticated, worldly, eco-conscious, and yet surprisingly physically fit suitor. Just pray that Dr. Joel Kahn is not there that night. I mean, really. Nobody needs that kind of competition.

Amitabul

Amitabul
http://www.amitabulchicago.com/
6207 N. Milwaukee Avenue, Chicago, IL 60646
QISA (4, 3.5, 3.5, 4), $10-12, Vegan

So much on my mind. Too much on my mind. I am so tired. I had a long drive to Chicago this morning and another a long drive ahead of me. Just had an unpleasant meeting. And I hate my health insurance. And it’s cold outside. What should I do? Wait, what is Amitabul? Vegan Korean cuisine?

Well, the restaurant looks promising. Inside it’s all fancy tables and Asian artwork and calligraphic prints and meditative music. It sounds like a Buddhist monastery with waves crashing on the shore.

What’s that sign on the wall?

Thousands of candles can be lighted from a single candle, and the life of the candle will not be shortened, happiness never decreases by being shared – Buddha

OK, maybe I can spare a little time.

I can not believe how frosty that business meeting became. Trying to ameliorate a doctor who was angry at my company and barely holding it together with me? Not something I want to repeat any time soon.

Maybe I will start with a cup of warm date tea. Oh, this tea is fantastic! This fermented date tea tastes just like sweet dates with a very mild tang. It is incredibly warm and comforting.

Holding on to anger is like grasping a hot coal with the intent of throwing it at someone else; you are the one who gets burned – Buddha

I can’t believe how cold it is already. I am not ready for winter. Not, not, not. I need a vacation. I need to go somewhere warm. I don’t know how I am going to make it through another snowy January.

What about this seaweed miso soup. Oh my! This generous bowl is a delicious miso broth with tofu, greens, and seaweed. It is moderately salty and makes me think of a warm day on the seaside. I can smell the salt in the air, hear the gulls and the waves, stretch out on the sand...

To conquer oneself is a greater victory than to conquer thousands in battle - Buddha

What’s up with my health insurance? I can’t believe they think my provider is out of network. There are no similar providers in network. How are we going to pay for this?

Maybe I should eat the mushroom bi bim bop. Wow! The bowl is huge, and it’s a perfectly blended mix of slivered vegetables, Chinese mushrooms, and beans over brown rice with a wonderful peanut miso sauce. It’s so filling, so satisfying.

The secret of health for both mind and body is not to mourn for the past, worry about the future, but to live in the present moment wisely and earnestly – Buddha

I am so full, but I want to come back and try the seaweed mushroom soup or maybe the healing noodle soup. Maybe I can try the tofu young patties or another bi bim bop or one of their creative noodle dishes. With all of this, I can handle anything. Anything!

President Trump.

Maybe I had better take another sip of tea. Maybe another. Maybe one more...

Marie Catrib's

Marie Catrib’s
http://www.mariecatribs.com/
1001-1003 Lake Drive SE, Grand Rapids, MI 49503
QISA (4, 4, 3.5, 3.5), $7-12, Vegetarian-Friendly

Marie Catrib’s is where the beautiful people eat. This is not the house of the wealth and well-dressed nor the movers and shakers of the Grand Rapids elite. No, this is the place where the actual beautiful people eat, the incredibly attractive college age men and women, the young families with photogenic children, and the occasional “normal-looking” middle-aged and elderly thrown in for good measure. Even the old man toddling his way past the bar looked stooped and creaky but not unattractive. This is the land of clean living.

Marie Catrib sounds like the name of a 18th century pirate queen, buT in fact she is the founder and owner of this experimental restaurant using, “a twist of Lebanese, a hit of Yooper and a yen for unique pastries.” I enjoyed the artwork on the walls which ranged from an impressionist painting of an 18th century woman pouring tea to a surrealistic painting of an airplane flying past planets to a lovely close-up photograph of Playmobile toy characters in an inner city setting. Obviously, the word has gone out about this restaurant because the place was hopping at lunchtime. I waited 20-30 minutes for a table for one. Upon arriving, I put my name on a yellow legal pad and waited along with the other hopefuls.

The restaurant is quite vegetarian friendly; the many creative vegetarian and vegan dishes offered are clearly mere afterthoughts to appease non-carnivorous patrons. I ordered the lentil quinoa burger, a side of Marie’s seasoned potatoes, and (because how could I not) a half pot of Turkish coffee. The burger had a pleasant chewiness and curry spice, and it was loaded with lettuce, curried vegenaise, and ginger-tomato chutney. The generous portion of seasoned potatoes were cut into large chunks, coated with a tangy, salty seasoning, and roasted. The accompanying pickle spear was just slightly under crisp for my taste, but it was moderately spicy which came as a pleasant surprise.

The Turkish coffee was one of the best I’ve ever had. It was strong, slightly sweet, and flavored with a touch of cardamom, creating a perfectly balanced blend. The half pot was clearly intended for more than one diner, but this did not stop me from refilling my little cup over and over again.

Marie Catrib’s is comfort food with a creative exotic twist. I definitely plan to come back to try out her falafel or her ancho lentil tacos or perhaps her marinated portabella mushrooms and onions on grilled challah bread. And perhaps next time I will treat myself to one of her wonderful looking pastries. I am definitely getting another half pot of Turkish coffee and nursing it in the corner. Y’all can get your own.

Bartertown Diner

Bartertown Diner
http://www.bartertowngr.com/
6 Jefferson Ave SE, Grand Rapids, MI 49503
QISA (3.5, 4, 4, 3.5), $7-12, Vegan

A vegan, community-focused, breakfast and lunch joint like Bartertown Diner could only exist in a small liberal college town. San Francisco, New York, or Chicago? They are way too trendy and metropolitan for anything this grass roots. South Bend or Terre Haute, Indiana? Way to blue collar, and slightly too red. Bloomington, Indiana? Possibly. Maybe.

But it is Grand Rapids, the second largest city in Michigan, a city of 192,294 people nearly evenly divided between Democratic and Republican voters, a city where the largest college is Grand Rapids Community College (student population 32,000), that supports this unique establishment. In fact, it is Grand Rapids with its beautiful three dimensional murals gracing the side of buildings downtown, visual and performing art institutions, and variety of locally-owned, locally sourced restaurants that is the perfect place for Bartertown.

Bartertown Diner advertises its mission as serving, “delicious affordable food that increases the overall well-being of our health, our community, and our planet.” They use locally sourced and seasonal ingredients whenever possible. They sell Sonder Farms organic produce in the corner of the restaurant like a micro-farmer’s market. They also give much lip service and ink to paying their wait staff a fair living wage and advertise themselves as a “no tip restaurant." Instead of leaving a tip, they encourage patrons to purchase $2 taco or $5 food bowl coupons that can be used by ANYONE who walks in the door. These coupons are posted on a large bulletin board near the door, and are used every day by college kids, homeless people, or whoever else needs a free meal. It’s a great way to provide judgement-free food to the community while encouraging vegan eating.

The food itself is quite good, not fantastic, but still very good. I ordered the jalapeno lentil burger, topped with cilantro aioli, spinach, thick slices of tomato, thin slices of jalapenos, and their house mustard. The patty was a soft puree rather than a chewy burger. It was moderately spicy with a lot of flavor. I liked the taste, but I personally think it could have used a grain to give it more crunch or chewiness.

The Fox Force Five smoothie contained almond milk, banana, peanut butter, cacao, and chia seeds. It was blended smooth with only a slight graininess, and the flavor was balanced nicely without being too sweet. I could almost feel the antioxidants and omega-3 fatty acids turning me into a better version of myself.

I treated myself to a dense, cakey cinnamon-sugar coated donut. If you are looking for baked vegan pastries, you could do a lot worse.

In fact, you could do a lot worse than the Bartertown Diner. I recommend it for its mission of healthy, locally-sourced vegan food, its tasty meals, and its devotion to the community. I even purchased a $5 food bowl coupon and proudly taped it to the bulletin board. Hopefully, some young student at the Grand Rapids Community College will make good use of it.

Om Cafe

Om Cafe
http://omcafe.com/
23136 Woodward Ave, Ferndale, MI 48220
Vegetarian (Vegan Friendly)
QISA (4, 4, 3.5, 3.5), $11-14, Vegetarian (Vegan-Friendly)

It was a cold, wet, snowy day when I stumbled into the Om Cafe.

Wow. That last sentence reads like Robert Frost smoking pot with the crew of the Firesign Theater. Kids, go ask your parents. I’ll wait.

Perhaps, I should start again.

The Om Cafe is a 31-year old family affair, started way back in 1985 by a Colleen Smiley. The restaurant’s Website describes Colleen as a woman who was “waging a war of vegetables against meat, antibiotics, growth hormones and processed food.” Passed on to her eldest son Jason Smiley, and then eventually passed on to Jessica Norwood, a woman, “whose parents had been bringing her to the Om Cafe she she was three years old,” this hippie hideaway is obviously a labor of love.

Any epicurean establishment started as a political movement runs the risk of being a relic, a testament to a by-gone era. I’ve seen this time and time again, typically with old natural food co-ops that never learned to keep up with the Trader Joe’s, Wild Oats, or Whole Foods phenomenon. I’ve seen it with old vegan lunch spots that never learned how to marry flavor with fervor and that simply crank out food that tastes raw, earthy, and unrefined. Frankly, I was surprised to find out the Om Cafe was as old as it was; it felt like a new entrant into the vegetarian food market.

The interior of the small restaurant was decorated with strikingly colorful paintings by SooMee Lee, a local artist with her own expressionistic style. The alt rock music over the loudspeaker made me think of a particularly trippy Pink Floyd album with violins added in, but in a good way. Needless to say, the restaurant was creating its own modernistic style that leaned toward “in your face” but then fell back toward its own aesthetic groove.

I’d even be willing to go out on a limb and guess that back in 1985, there was a lot more paisley and sitar music, and a lot less trippy modern aesthetic groove with violins. But that’s just a guess.

Even the food has its own artistic flair. I ordered the El Mexicano, a big plate of loaded nachos, which was a crazy flavor mix of beans, black olives, kalamata olives, baked tofu wedges, lettuce, tomato, cucumber, avocado, jalapeno slides, and onion. It was a group think of spicy, salty, chunky, crunchy, and meaty, all vying for the attention of your tastebuds. It was as if the color palate on the walls was bleeding into the food. But in a good way.

The meal was also my first experience with kukicha tea, a tea composed of stems, stalks, and twigs, giving it an earthy, toasty, and slight carob flavor. The tea was served with a slice of lemon, which added even more flavors to the taste palate. The fact that I got free refills didn’t hurt either.

The menu is not very large, but I have to give them points for originality. The loaded vegan mac, for example, adds kale and tofu to the noodles and mac sauce and tops the entire dish with crushed peanuts, cilantro, and lime. It’s macaroni and cheese meets pad thai. The General Tso Dinner is a mix of sauteed broccoli, cremini mushrooms, diced organic tofu, organic brown rice, and black sesame seeds, all covered with their house made sauce of ginger, tamari, and sesame oil. And bottles of tamari and sriracha join the salt and pepper as standard table condiments.

My only complaint was that at times, the restaurant felt a little too much like an art gallery. The waiter, for example, seemed a bit stand-offish and perfunctory in his duties until I asked him questions about the tea. Only then did he engage me in more than the basic level of human interaction.

Maybe this is what happens with any local family restaurant when one’s clientele becomes so local that the restaurant forgets to reach out to the strangers, the travelers, the new vegetarians, or the casual explorers. If so, this just won’t do. Not if they expect to last another 31 years.

Of course by then, a whole new generation will be in charge of the restaurant, and the style will shift again to match the times. The artwork will be neo-socialist retro steampunk and the menu will be inspired by farm-to-table pan-African-fusion cuisine.

I don’t know. Don’t ask me. I’m sure I will need my grandkids to explain it all to me over a shared plate of loaded nachos.

PJ's Lager House

PJ's Lager House
http://pjslagerhouse.com/
1254 Michigan Avenue, Detroit, MI 48226
QISA (4, 3.5, 3.5, 3.5), $8-10, Vegetarian-Friendly

Sure, we've all heard about Detroit’s dire economic forecast. Stories of high unemployment rates and soaring city debt have created an image of a post-apocalyptic urban sprawl ruled by gangs, mutants, and rodents of unusual size. Whenever I travel there for business, I expect to climb over rubble, leaking pipes, rotting corpses, and a doleful Eminem sobbing into his hands on my way to meet with pulmonologists still trying to improve the lives of patients suffering from pulmonary hypertension.

The reality, of course, is nowhere near this extreme. A drive through the city reveals trees even in the most urban settings, music in the downtown area, and a vibrant restaurant culture. In fact, according to the New York Times, Detroit is in recovery, drawing in developers and entrepreneurs.

Therefore, it should come as no surprise that buried in a desolate part of the city, overlooking the intersection of I-75 and Highway 10 near the MGM Grand Detroit, is a friendly little bar with an even friendlier menu. I speak, of course, of PJ’s Lager House.

The building dates back to 1914 when it was a neighborhood bakery and restaurant. Masquerading as a furniture store during prohibition (“I’d like to buy a chaise lounge and a shot of Templeton rye, please”), it re-emerged as a beer garden as soon as Prohibition was repealed. And then it changed, and changed again, and changed again. The current incarnation still looks a bit antique, but the menu is anything but.

I ordered the tofu banh mi, a delicious sandwich of marinated and deep fried tofu triangles, served with lettuce, cucumber/carrot/jalapeno slaw, a homemade peanut sauce, and chopped red peppers, all served on a crusty bolillo bun (basically a Mexican version of French bread). Complementing this were the best sweet potato fries I’ve had in a long, long, long time. They were medium thick cut and fried to a crispy perfection. And of course filled with healthy vitamin A and beta carotene. I cleaned my plate because I needed my vitamins.

Beers ranged from standard boring watery macrobrews to very intriguing bottled and draft microbrews. I opted for an incredibly good porter whose name escapes me (I am kicking myself for not scratching it onto my hand) followed by a glass of Brooklyn Lager on tap.

The bartender was a very friendly sort and seemed to recognize everyone who entered, including and especially the family with the young child. He had a constant smile and patter with the young hipsters and aging hippies decorating the joint. It was definitely a non-traditional neighborhood bar in a non-traditional neighborhood.

I had the good fortune of visiting on a quiet night when the bands were not playing. After a long day at work, I wanted to take in the food and beer at my own pace and let the day’s grind wash away. Still, had I come on one of the more musical nights, I would have gladly paid the cover to hear the Corn Potato String Band (an old timey American string ensemble) or maybe Sleepy Kitty (a two piece indie rock band) or perhaps the Smoking Flowers (a Nashville country rock duo) or even Jason and the Punknecks ("Punk makes nice with Country").

I just don’t think I would have walked home by myself late at night. Come on. This is Detroit, after all.

Munch

Munch
http://www.munchrestaurant.net/
104 North Marion Street, Oak Park, IL 60301
QISA (4, 4, 3.5, 4), $7-14, Vegetarian (Vegan-Friendly)

Munch is a hidden gem in Oak Park, Illinois. It is a small cozy restaurant sporting local artwork on the walls, silver globe paper chandeliers, and an over-worked but still attentive, pleasant, and very friendly waitress who is more than happy to explain anything on the menu. Munch is a cash-only restaurant, with an in-store ATM for patrons (like me) who don’t automatically keep cash on hand. It is homemade comfort food that makes artistry out of meaty, or at least meaty-tasting dishes.

David Hammond, the food writer for oakpark.com, praised the restaurant in his video blog, “You Really Should Eat This.” Admittedly, at times, his review of Munch feels like an apologetic justification of vegetarianism to a skeptical omnivorous public nervous about veg heads indoctrinating their children. However, I agree with his general premise that one can not compare vegetarian food to meat-based food since they are different entities entirely. Munch, he explains, stands on its own. And he really, really likes the Wrap Italiano, a tortilla wrap of seitan breakfast “sausage”, organic tofu, marinara, and either provolone or vegan mozzarella. I personally can not vouch for this dish, although it did look quite tasty, but I definitely can say, to steal Hammond’s punchline…

You should definitely eat this: “Beefy” tostado plate. These tostados are definitely a fork food, spilling over with seitan-based “beef”, cheese, black beans, corn, red onion, tomato, and sliced avocado on top of a crunchy tortilla. The entire dish is served over a bed of lettuce, radicchio, and shredded carrot, giving it an artisanal feel. The proteins and veggies blend well, and the flavors and textures really pop. In addition, the avocado is at the perfect ripeness. Yes, it's those little things that count.

You should definitely drink this: Cacao almond sin smoothie. This thick smooth drink is a blend of cacao powder, dates, almonds, and bananas. Smoother than you would expect, this a decadent-tasting shake.

Although Oak Park is farther west than my typical route through Chicago, I may have to make a couple more side trips…for research purposes of course. I need to know if you should definitely eat the Groovy Breakfast Plate, an organic tofu scramble with sautéed portabella mushrooms, bell peppers, onions, garlic, and spinach. Or if it you should possibly eat the Tarragon “Chicken” Wrap, with marinated “chicken” seitan, caramelized onions, roasted bell peppers, leafy greens, cucumbers, and herbed veganaise. Or if you might possibly want to definitely eat the Groovy Plate with pan-seared “beefy” marinated tofu, mashed sweet potatoes, red quinoa pilaf, sautéed greens, and a kale salad with orange vinagraitte.

Who am I kidding? Of course you should. And wave to me while you are there.

Inn Season Café

Inn Season Café
http://theinnseasoncafe.com/
500 East Fourth Street, Royal Oak, MI 48067
QISA (4, 4, 3.5, 4), $10-18, Vegetarian (Vegan Friendly)

Royal Oak, Michigan, a tree-laden northern suburb of Detroit, was the home of the infamous 1920s fascist anti-Semitic radio personality Father Charles Coughlin.

There, I said it. Now I can move on.

Royal Oak is also the birthplace of iconic director Sam Raimi, birthplace of bechinned actor Bruce Campbell, early home of Eagles founding member Glenn Frey o.b.m., the setting for 1990s sitcom Home Improvement, and the home of the Detroit Zoo. Add to that resume the Inn Season Café, an elegant, cozy 34-year old vegetarian restaurant that is destined to become one of my new favorite haunts.

It is possible that the restaurant is not nearly as good as I think, but somehow they managed to find, target, and exploit all of my weaknesses. The Budapest mushroom soup, for example, was possibly the best mushroom soup I’ve ever eaten; creamy golden broth, big slices of mushroom, bursting with visible herbs and exotic flavors. Or how about the 4th Street Burger served on an herbed artisanal whole grain bun that is soft but thick with a perfect yeasty flavor. I can’t help but praise stuff like that.

The burger itself was grain-based, comprising oats, lentils, brown rice, millet, cracked wheat, cornmeal, sesame seeds, and sunflower seeds, and somehow it held together with just the right chewiness, crunch, and flavor. The banana strawberry smoothie was fairly standard, which is to say it tasted like a very decent smoothie. Even the coleslaw, while a little heavy on the raw onion, was a vibrant mix of cabbage, carrot, red onion, and a light sauce, using fresh herbs to bring out the flavor.

The restaurant defies traditional classification, mixing its elegance with a modern appeal. Interesting still life paintings, including one of floating artichokes decorate the wall. Bottles of olive oil complement the salt and pepper shakers on the wooden tables. Tattooed ladies with multiple piercings cheerfully take your order. And then there is the elderly ladies at the corner table discussing their grand kids. For all I know, they’ve been coming here for 34 years.

To top it all off, the restaurant is kosher certified by Kosher Michigan. Take that Father Coughlin.

Ritual Café

Ritual Café
http://www.ritualcafedsmiowa.net/
1301 Locust St. Ste. D Des Moines, IA
QISA (3.5, 4, 3, 3.5), $6-10, Vegetarian

Ritual Café is a deep blue dot in a light blue city in a purple rural state. Although it is one of the very few all vegetarian restaurants in Des Moines, Iowa, the vegetarian menu comes off as secondary to the restaurants primary role as an ultra-liberal, culturally diverse coffee house.

The walls of the Ritual Café are covered with works of local artists, and the art runs the gamut from paintings to paper cuts to daguerreotypes. The upper walls are covered with concert posters from local musicians, and every bit of space in between sports a bumper sticker, poster, or silk screened mat that praises the goddess, invokes meditative Sanskrit letters, supports Bernie Sanders, advertises Cesar Chavez Day, or rails against Israeli apartheid of Palestine (but conspicuously ignores every other country with any marks on their civil rights record, including the United States). Despite the low-key, relaxing atmosphere, Ritual Café does not take the safe road, finding something that will offend at least someone. Even their tip jar says, “support counterintelligence.”

Which doesn’t change the fact that they make a tasty sandwich.

I ordered the Sweet & Spicy which has curry chickpea spread, mango jam, massman curry spread, spinach leaves, and red onion grilled on marble rye bread. The sandwich was a wonderful mix of texture and flavor, combining sweet mango with a moderately spicy curry. The chickpeas are mashed only slightly to give the sandwich a topography of textures. Served with thick cut tortilla chips, it makes for a decent lunch.

The other lunch items were equally tempting, but I will have to wait till my next visit to try out the Po Boi’ (red and green peppers, onions, artichoke hearts, cheddar and feta, grilled on garlic focaccia) or the black bean burritos with sweet potatoes and Serrano peppers. Or perhaps I will stop by for breakfast instead and try out the Grateful Oats made with rice milk chai and hempnut granola, or maybe even the breakfast bowl with steamed eggs, roasted red peppers, kalamata olives, and feta cheese.

I went for a simple cup of coffee, which was reasonably decent but nothing to rave about. I suppose I could have gone for something more exotic, like a Mayan Mocha (espresso, Mexican chocolate and steamed milk) or a Horchata Latte (espresso, steamed milk, almond, cinnamon, and vanilla flavors.) Maybe, just maybe, I could have gone all out with an Omega Hemp Nut Smoothie, a series of drinks that seem to combine exotic flavors, health benefits, political consciousness, and a straw.

It is strangely refreshing to walk into an establishment and feel like the conservative odd man out. Me, a man whose parents were at the forefront of the liberal elite at CalTech, a man who has only once in his life broken his Democratic voting streak to vote Independent, a man who has raised his two sons on a steady diet of multicultural rhetoric, rational thought, dogmatic challenge, and sympathy for the downtrodden. I had the strangest urge to rouse a little rabble and talk a little trash. I wanted to challenge every one of their uber liberal assertions. Israel is the bad guy and not Hamas? Do you even read newspapers? How do you juxtapose goddess symbology with Sanskrit meditative letters straight out of a patriarchal tradition?

But I didn’t, and I shouldn’t, and I won’t. In the end, Ritual Café is a relaxing, chill coffee house in the best of liberal traditions. The staff are polite, the menu is creative, and the atmosphere is calming.

I’ll save my belligerence for Sunday morning at Cracker Barrel. They don’t serve hemp nut smoothies.

Upton's Breakroom

Upton's Breakroom
http://www.uptonsnaturals.com/breakroom/
2054 West Grand Avenue, Chicago, IL 60612
QISA (3.5, 4, 3.5, 3), $5 – 9, Vegan

My first experience with seitan was about 30 years ago in my pre-vegetarian years. My mother, of blessed memory, and her close friend found a recipe for “wheat meat,” which would supposedly magically turn whole-wheat flour into a believable meat substitute that was cheaper and leaner than beef. Looking back through the lens of adult experience, I understand her thinking. She had found a way to stretch our family dollar, reduce our saturated fat load, and satisfy her inner experimental food scientist. As a biology teacher, she was always up to some scientific experimentation.

I was not in the house while she lovingly prepared the seitan (I was out that evening doing something suitably teenagery), but I did get to try the final product later that evening. I have a very clear memory of a spaghetti sauce with a substance that looked very much like ground beef but tasted like bland, chewy whole-wheat flour. I also remember chewing this rubbery substance for a good five minutes before I was finally able to swallow. It was a decade before I touched the stuff again.

As a young married, and now vegetarian, husband, I took on the lion’s share of cooking duties. I was constantly looking for new recipes with which to impress my lovely wife, and I came upon a recipe for homemade seitan, a meat substitute with different and more versatile properties than tofu, TVP, tempeh, or okara. The process involved making a dense dough of whole-wheat flour and water, rinsing and pressing the dough in multiple changes of water, and simmering the resulting grayish blob in broth. The result of my experimentation was a slightly more satisfying and slightly less rubbery meat substitute. A secondary result was a layer of dried starch water all over the kitchen that my wife discovered the next day when she came in to make a sandwich. Since that day, my wife has made me promise two things: 1) never make any desserts that contain tofu, and 2) never make seitan completely from scratch ever again. I violate either of these rules at my peril.

Nowadays, I make my own seitan with vital wheat gluten flour. This flour, which can be found at many specialty shops, is basically instant seitan. Just add water, broth, and/or spices, and simmer, boil, or steam. I am still perfecting my seitan recipe, but my family will attest that my end result is a vast improvement over my early experimentation. Sliced thin, my breaded, fried glutenschnitzel is a family favorite. Just recently, I developed my own gluten-based sausage link which is fantastic on a hot-dog bun with spicy brown mustard or veggie-chili, particularly on a hot July 4th, while you’re spitting watermelon seeds, drinking your second beer, and blowin’ s$%!@ up. Vegetarians may talk a good game about ethics, but it don’t mean we can’t get our redneck on.

This long-winded exposition is simply my way of saying that I respect anyone who masters the art of seitan. It’s a tricky beast.

Upton’s Breakroom, a tiny Chicago restaurant associated with Upton’s Naturals, has pretty well mastered the process. Although Upton’s Naturals wholesalers sells jackfruit products as well, their seitan is obviously their crowning achievement.

What is most interesting, or at least most amusing, about Upton’s Breakroom, is that the restaurant feels like the quintessential Chicago meat scene. Situated in an industrial Chicago neighborhood, the clientele is mostly men between 20 and 50. The stocky, Mediterranean-looking head chef at the grill looks straight out of central Blues Brother casting. I expected him to start yelling “Cheeseburger, cheeseburger, cheeseburger!” (Kids, ask your parents.)

Except he didn’t. Instead, he engaged me on the ethics of veganism, discussed the recipes they use for their fake cheese sauces, and walked me through the most popular items on their menu. This is no hippie, college-town, trustafarian, liberal, save-the-world vegan lunch spot. This is a blue-collar, Chi-town, blink and you’ll miss it, comfort food, love-The-Bears-but-what’s-up-with-them-this-season vegan lunch spot.

After much perusal of the many options, I decided to order the “Chicago-style” Italian sandwich, along with a side of fried bacon mac. Nothing else seemed to speak of Chicago cuisine like an Italian hoagie and fried bacon mac. This was the only way, in my thinking, that I could truly judge the establishment. Heck, anyone can make a kale salad.

The sandwich was a glorious mess of herbed seitan, mild giardiniera peppers, celery, marinated carrot, and onion on a hoagie bun. The seitan was mildly spiced and covered in a juicy broth that immediately soaked through the bread. The flavors and textures melded perfectly creating a messy but satisfying taste of Chicago.

The fried bacon mac and cheese (cheeze?) was slightly charred at the edges, with a crusty and crunchy texture that helped sell the bits of seitan bacon. The cheeze sauce, although primarily made of nutritional yeast and tahini, did not have the bitter yeasty flavor I typically associate with vegan cheeze sauces. It honestly wasn’t until I finished my meal and was driving away did I really start to notice the yeast aftertaste. I guess you can never completely hide nutritional yeast. It’s insidious that way.

My honest impression was that the restaurant was good, very good in fact, but not fantastic. I only rated the quality a 3.5 because to compete with the fancy Chicago restaurant scene, one has to go above and beyond. And Upton simply goes above. However, I wish them well, and I definitely recommend my readers to try them out. When you go, you might even try out the kale salad. I am sure it is wonderful, and I would love to know what you think. I’ll be in the corner, hunched over my vegan bacon ranch cheeseburger.

FINAL NOTE: Upton’s Breakroom definitely falls into the Analog, Comfort Food mode, which is likely to spark a small amount of controversy in the foodie community. Hard core vegans and carnivores alike may challenge the idea of making vegan analogs of meat instead of simply exploring new avenues of vegetables, beans, and nuts. One of my meat-eating cousins mused, “If I wanted to eat a sausage, why wouldn’t I go for the real thing?” My response to this is two-fold. First, I flip this around. If there were a way to eat sausage without harming animals, why wouldn’t I go down this path? The issue is not the “purity” of the food, but rather the ethical, nutritional, and moral context of the food. Second, I claim that the “purity” of the food is a false construct unto itself. Meat sausages (as an example) are amalgams that in no way resemble their original source. In fact, most food items are processed, salted, stretched, and/or dried to no longer resemble their humble origins. Therefore, if what one tastes is primarily salt, spices, and processed protein anyway, why not do so in a vegetarian/vegan context?

As my rabbi used to say after a particularly long discourse, “The discussion is yours.”

Monty's Blue Plate Diner

Monty’s Blue Plate Diner
http://www.montysblueplatediner.com/
2089 Atwood Ave. Madison, WI 53704
QISA (4, 3.5, 4, 3.5), $6-10, Vegetarian-Friendly

The casual vegan traveler to the college town of Madison, Wisconsin, might be forgiven for overlooking Monty’s Blue Plate Diner. After all, on its surface, Monty’s is pure Americana, complete with a wall of second-tier and once long ago first-tier celebrity photos (sorry Arlo). At first glance, the menu is nothing more than carnivore-centric standard dishes such as burgers, corned beef hash, Reuben sandwiches, BLTs, chorizo breakfast burritos, and pork chilaquiles. However, hidden just below the surface is an impressive vegetarian/vegan menu with a variety of redefined diner-style dishes, such as vegetarian chili, vegetarian hash, walnut burgers, huevos rancheros, veggie and goat cheese crepes, tempeh bacon “BLT”, vegan pancakes, falafel wraps, and tofu scramblers. Point of fact, Monty’s meatless menu is larger than that of many strictly vegan restaurants I have visited.

I wavered between the Breakfast Sweet Potato Hash and the Heathen Vegan Shoplifter's Delight; it was a hard-fought battle. In the end, I went with the Delight, mostly because it sounded more interesting overall, but partly because it came with thick cut steak fries. In the end, I did not regret my decision.

The Shoplifter’s Delight was a sandwich of marinated Portobello strips, fried Bandung tempeh (a product of the local Bandung Indonesian Restaurant), caramelized red onions, fresh avocado, and a lemon-tahini dressing, all served on a baguette. The tempeh was marinated just enough to hide its sourness, giving it a mild, pleasant flavor that complemented the other sandwich ingredients. In fact, most of the flavor came from the lemon-tahini dressing, with an accompanying sweetness from the onions, and a satisfying bit of umami balance from the mushrooms and avocado.

I substituted the waffle fries for the standard fries. They were thick cut, meaty, and slightly spiced. I regretted nothing, even if I had to make several promises to myself to skip dinner and jog the length of the Minneapolis-St. Paul airport a couple of times on my evening layover.

I ordered a cup of coffee. It was diner standard coffee, but I have discovered that most diners offer a thoroughly decent cup of coffee that beats out McDonald’s, Dunkin’ Donuts, and many of the other chains that peddle their over-hyped swill as high-brow brew. The coffee was medium roast, low acidity coffee that spoke of the best parts of the Midwest.

Speaking of which, for just a little bit more, you can order the coffee and a donut, instead of just the coffee. Monty’s donuts are made fresh in-house, so naturally, I had to try one. In the interest of science and all. Oh my. This was not your standard Dunkin’ Donuts, Krispy Kreme, Tim Horton’s greasy pastry. This was doughy and perfectly sweet, balancing at the border of donut, cake, and bread. I got mine with sprinkles because, yeah. I regretted nothing, even if I had to make several promises to visit Planet Fitness every night and morning the next week.

The service at the restaurant is just what you would expect from a Midwest-nice establishment. The very cute waitress was friendly and attentive but not in a flirtatious or ego-stroking way, which frankly was just as effective.

What’s to say about Monty’s? Carnivores and vegans can sit across from each other with their Bistro Burgers and Walnut Burgers and simply talk about the weather. Liberal college students can eat their Vegetarian Hash, their conservative salt-of-the-earth grandparents can nibble at their Country Breakfast, and both can argue about whether or not Trump is a racist (he is) and Sanders is a socialist (he also is).

It is a place for everybody. How many restaurants can say that?

FINAL NOTE: Across the street from Monty's is a Gail Ambrosius, a most excellent high-end chocolatier that sells dark truffles, dipped fruit, and other exotic confections infused with an amazing variety of fruit, tea, and spices. After my hefty meal, I waddled across the street to buy a gift for my lovely wife, figuring that the chances of being tempted into chocolate excess were much lower if I was already full from lunch. Unfortunately, they were giving out free samples of their jasmine truffles, which naturally, I had to try. But I regret nothing, even if…oh Lord.

The Chicago Diner

Chicago Diner
http://www.veggiediner.com/
2333 N. Milwaukee Ave. Chicago, IL 60647
3411 N. Halsted St. Chicago, IL 60657
QISA (4, 4, 4, 3.5), $9-13, Vegetarian

The Chicago Diner (“Meat free since ‘83”) describes itself as providing Vegetarian Comfort Food. I disagree. The Chicago Diner provides THE Vegetarian Comfort Food. I simply know of no place in the country that does this any better. The Diner bridges the gulf between the id and the ego, marrying meatless, local, seasonal ingredients with dishes that are pure decadence. Or at least seem that way.

Take their Special Recipe seitan wings with either barbecue or spicy Buffalo sauce. I absolutely love these things. After a big gut-busting meal in the restaurant, I have been known get a take-out order to finish off much, much later in my hotel room…and then finish them off in the car on the way to the room. Apparently I have no self-control. Or pride.

Or how about their Spicy Crispy Chik’n, a satisfyingly crunchy and chewy sandwich made from breaded chicken-flavored seitan, ranch dressing, lettuce, tomato, cucumber, and onion on a hearty whole-wheat bun.

Or perhaps you’re more in the mood for a Cajun Black Bean Burger, a spicy black bean patty with sautéed onions, mushrooms, spinach, tomato, fried jalapenos, vegan cheese, and Creole mustard spilling out onto your hands, which is all fine because no one is judging you but yourself. If you were there on a date, your chances of intimacy were over the moment your dinner consisted of the words "beans," "spicy," and "onions". Unless your date ordered those words as well, in which case, you should marry her immediately.

And I have not yet mentioned the dessert menu of cakes, sundaes, and award-winning shakes, all of which, of course, are vegetarian. And all of which, I choose to believe with absolutely no proof whatsoever, are healthy and life-prolonging.

Although much of the menu definitely follows the Comfort and Analog modes of vegetarian dining, not everything is fried or seitan-based. The quinoa chili is a hearty mix of beans, corn, and quinoa, creating a wonderful melange of flavor and texture. The chili is a healthy stew of protein, fiber, and vitamins that still somehow feels decadent. Of course, the fact that it is served with jalapeno corn fritters doesn’t hurt either.

Despite the heaps of awards, over 30 years of history, and an in-house store selling everything from t-shirts to cookbooks, the restaurant still has a modest, unassuming appeal. This is no four star restaurant with a snooty maître ‘d informing you that, strange, he doesn’t see your name on the list, perhaps you would like to wait at the bar. Rather, this is a hippie hangout and a family diner all in one. This is wooden benches and scratched tables and local art on the walls. This is comfort food.

Granted, this is also good service and cute, friendly waitresses, which, I am none-to-proud to say probably raises the place up even more in my esteem. At my last visit, Isa, an attractive young blue-haired, cappuccino-skinned lady earned her generous tip by drawing four stars on the top of my bill and writing “Love and” in front of the printed “Thank You” on my bill. I can’t quite remember, but that may have been the day I put in the extra order of take-out barbecue seitan wings.

No self-control. No self-control or pride at all.

Detroit Vegan Soul

Detroit Vegan Soul
http://detroitvegansoul.com/
8029 Agnes Street, Detroit, MI 48214
QISA (4, 3.5, 4, 3.5), $7-14, Vegan

There is a part of me, a horrible, nasty, cranky, cynical part of me that desperately wanted to disparage Detroit Vegan Soul. This part of me wanted to deride the establishment for reducing the American Black experience to a museum exhibit, complete with an artfully framed picture of a pre-civil rights bathroom (showing door signs that say “Men,” “Women,” and “Colored”) ironically placed in the restroom so you can contemplate old societal injustices while doing your business. This part of me wanted to laugh at the calming music played over the restaurant speakers: selections of smooth jazz, 70s R&B, and mild hip hop, all of which created an ethnomusicology of African American music minus any unpleasant edginess. This part of me wanted to comment on the racial diversity of the young wait staff, a level of diversity not typically found in Soul food establishments. This part of me wanted to paint the restaurant as an attempt to bring African American culture to a Caucasian upper-middle class vegan population rather than bring veganism to an extant African American population. Most of all, this part wanted to loudly ask, “Are you trying to sanitize the African American urban experience for my protection?”

Luckily, that part of me was quiet enough to let me enjoy the experience of Detroit Vegan Soul. The experience may not have been absolutely authentic, but it was definitely amiable, enjoyable, and classy. The wait staff were friendly, the food was tasty and well prepared, the restaurant was clean, and the whole atmosphere was pleasant enough to melt the heart of a liberal curmudgeon such as myself. I would even have been confident enough to bring my African American friends along with me without constantly checking on my cultural sensitivity.

I ordered the tofu “catfish” with yam chips, a choice I was very, very happy about. The tofu cutlet was cornmeal breaded, fried, and served on a soft whole grain bun with lettuce, tomato, and vegan tartar sauce. The sandwich had a good balance of flavor with not too much salt, very little fishy taste, and no lingering sense of horrible animal death.

I apologize for that. The curmudgeon still wants to come out. I digress.

The yam chips were thick cut, somewhere between steak fries and chips. They were fried to a crisp tender and lightly coated with salt and herbs. I did not leave a single one on my plate.

Some foods were merely good, not amazingly delicious. The coleslaw was not as crisp as I would have liked, and it was slightly sweeter than I am used to. The “Sock it to me” cake was a very nutty coffeecake with a ribbon of cinnamon in the center. It was an enjoyable end to the meal, but not a rich dessert worthy of additional lines of text.

The berry blast smoothie, on the other hand, was one of the best smoothies I have had in ages. Sweetened with dates and filled with fruit, the smoothie was a sweet treat that still allowed me to feel virtuous.

I would definitely recommend Detroit Vegan Soul. They have their act together on all accounts, from the food itself, to the photo collage of street signs on the wall, to the service. My waitress, a very cute diminutive blond woman, was very friendly, constantly sporting a winning smile that almost had me believe she was flirting with me, even though there was no way in this universe that she was actually flirting with me. Of course, had I been a middle-aged woman, the handsome young African American man behind the counter probably would have come out to take my order.

Or am I just being cynical again?

Yeah, whatever.

Small Batch

Small Batch
http://smallbatchstl.com/
3001 Locust Street, St. Louis, MO 63103
QISA (4.5, 4, 4.5, 4), $8-17, Vegetarian

This past weekend, I treated my wife to a weekend in St. Louis sans enfants. We left our boys with my mother-in-law, who promptly dumped the boys onto my sister-in-law's weekend family vacation. I suppose she assumed that two relatively well-behaved young lads couldn't make too much of a dent in the already existing chaos of my sister-in-law's family. Or perhaps she figured this was an easy way of getting out of preparing any meals. Frankly, I didn't care. For the length of the weekend, this was not my problem.

In fact, the only thing that was my problem was setting up a fun-filled grown-up's weekend for two, complete with Friday-night Shabbat services in an unknown Temple, a visit to the Gateway Arch complete with a tram ride to the top, plenty of time to browse through two large antique shops with no whiny kids (or husband) pulling on her leg, and a couple of really bad movies on the Syfy channel at the hotel. In addition, I felt the need to introduce her to the many wonderful vegetarian restaurants in St. Louis. To showcase my skills as a culinary traveler, any restaurant I picked had to be fancy, but not snooty. It had to be exotic enough to create a sense of adventure, but familiar enough to keep her within proximity of her comfort zone.

In other words, it had to be Small Batch, my favorite vegetarian restaurant in St. Louis. Correction, this is my favorite restaurant in St. Louis period.

Small Batch is a whiskey lounge and restaurant, “focusing on fine American Whiskeys, Bourbons, and Ryes.” Read their Website, and you will learn about their fresh handmade pastas, breads baked fresh daily, and their delicious, unique, eclectic dishes. You will learn about their nearly 100 whiskeys, all listed in what can only be described as a codex, complete with name, U.S. state of origin, proof, grain profile, and a brief evocative description.

What you will not find is any mention of them being vegetarian.

David Bailey, the award winning restaurateur and owner of Bailey Restaurants, must have wanted to see what he could do with an ovo-lacto format, possibly to find out if anyone would notice the lack of charred flesh. He had already explored burgers at Bailey’s Range, chocolate at Bailey’s Chocolate Bar, fine beers and wines at Bridge, and every other kind of meat at Rooster, Range, and the Fifth Wheel. What’s left for a budding culinary entrepreneur? Obviously pairing haute vegetarian cuisine with an expertise in fine whiskeys.

The waiters at Small Batch are either all very well trained or carefully selected for their knowledge of the fine nuances of rye, bourbon, Irish, and malt whiskeys. They are polite and friendly, helping unsophisticated patrons such as myself navigate the complex world of fine spirits and mixed drinks.

I can not stress enough how seriously the restaurant takes its whiskeys. Whiskeys are served in 0.75 or 2 fl.oz. glasses as well as in flights. Each glass of whiskey comes with a small bowl of ice to serve your drink on the rocks and/or a small eye dropper bottle “to open it up” with a couple drops of water. I felt quite the sophisticate dropping water and swirling my Michter’s Single Barrel Rye. See? I can even name-drop the staff’s favorite bourbon.

But then, there is the food. Ah, the food. Everything from the artful plating to the ample portions to the appetizing palate tells you this is a restaurant for epicureans serious about the entire culinary experience. I would definitely define this as an EPICUREAN-focused restaurant plain and simple.

I have visited the establishment three times so far, and I am working my way through the menu. On their Small Fare page, I have tried both the potstickers and the Tomato Explosion. Although the potstickers are tasty but not necessary extraordinary, the Tomato Explosion reminded me of what real food is supposed to taste like. Local red and yellow heirloom tomatoes are drizzled with basil truffle oil, pine nuts, pesto, and a blueberry balsamic vinegar, all served with a runny fresh mozzarella. Sweet tomatoes with flavor but little acidity, nutty pesto dancing with the tang of a fruity balsamic, bang zoom pow.

Of the main courses, I have so far tried the stuffed shells (stuffed with lemon ricotta, fontina, pecorino, fennel pine nuts, angel hair zucchini, and spinach tomato cream sauce), rigatoni (a spicy dish served with blackened cremini mushrooms, asparagus, red pepper, spinach, and Cajun cream), carbonara (a smoky linguini dish with smoked mushrooms, snap peas, onions, roasted cauliflower, and pecorino cheese), BBQ portabella mushrooms (served on toasted beer bread, covered with bourbon BBQ sauce, onion straws, dill kettle chips, bread and butter pickles, and broccoli slaw), and the soft shell artisanal tacos (with crisped avocado, grilled corn, napa slaw, chipotle, Chihuahua cheese, and black bean salsa). All of these were wonderful, but I was most partial to the BBQ mushrooms and tacos, both of which put me in a quiet meditative state.

Their desserts are equally as decadent. Be sure to try the chocolate brownie with a scoop of raspberry sorbet, chocolate sauce, and fresh fruit. Or perhaps their bourbon soaked bread pudding. Other than being restoratives for the soul, these are definitely not “wellness” foods.

And amazingly, all of these dishes are ovo-lacto vegetarian, even if they won’t admit to it in print.

Would I recommend visiting this place as often as possible? Definitely. Would I walk two miles each way, traversing downtown St. Louis at night, just so I could drink what I wanted and not have to drive home? Sure. Would I purposefully select a hotel within walking distance during a business trip? I plead the fifth.

But I would definitely bring my wife to Small Batch to show myself off as a highbrow urban sophisticate with a keen sense of taste, a cosmopolitan world traveler, and a committed and informed vegetarian.

Because, Lord knows I need all the help I can get.

FOCUS: The Vision of a Restaurant

“Well, the restaurant was decorated with paintings from local artists, and it had every form of tofu imaginable: fried, baked, pan-seared, boiled, and diced. Most of the dishes were pan-Asian except for the souvlaki. And they used free range arugula…whatever that means.”

Describing vegan and vegetarian restaurants in concise language is challenging, particularly since each restaurant has it’s own distinct personality. I’ve often wished for a short hand method of description; something I could use to convey a mode or primary focus without describing the menu in painstaking detail.

Below is my best attempt at a classification system that goes beyond the absolute identifiers, such as carnivorosity (vegan, vegetarian, etc.) or cost-structure. This system attempts to identify the mode of the restaurant. The menu may change monthly, weekly, or daily, but the basic FOCUS should never change without changing the fundamental nature. McDonald’s, to use a very non-vegetarian example, may come out with a new menu item, but that item will always be prepared quickly and priced cheaply. The McPorterhouse Steak would not be within McDonald’s FOCUS. I realize that any attempt at classification is a fiction, and an incomplete fiction at best. However, these FOCUS descriptors are meant to provide a high-level framework and context for each restaurant. No restaurant should require more than two descriptors. Any more, and the restaurant sounds unfocused. Or you sound unfocused, and the best I can do for you is recommend a good therapist.

In alphabetical order, these categories are: ANALOG, COMFORT, ECLECTIC, ETHNIC, EPICUREAN, and WELLNESS.

ANALOG – Some restaurants are hell bent on bringing veganism/vegetarianism to the masses by substituting meat analogs (e.g. tofu, seitan, tempeh) in standard meat dishes. Although these restaurants may also be described by another FOCUS descriptor, their mode tends to be ensuring that every dish has an identifiable non-dairy protein source.

COMFORT – I sometimes refer to these restaurants as “fried tofu” restaurants. Their focus is to create modern versions of comfort food standards, sometimes, but not always maintaining the high fat, high salt, and high simple carbs of the original. I have had an incredibly passable baked mac and cheese at one of these restaurants, and I chose to believe that it was a much healthier version than the original.

ECLECTIC – Some restaurants pride themselves in exploring the borders of imagination found in vegetarian cuisine. The primary goal here is creativity, looking to either recreate standard dishes in a completely new guise or create novel dishes that combine fruits, vegetables, grains, sauces, and spices in new and exciting ways. I had an incredibly addictive kale slaw at one of these restaurants believe it or not.

ETHNIC – These restaurants focus on a particular ethnic or cultural cuisine straight and simple. Often these cuisines lends lend themselves to vegetarianism or veganism because the standard ingredients are already heavily based on vegetables and grains. Sometimes these cuisines are vegetarian as part of a religious or cultural code. Indian restaurants are prime examples of ethnically-focused cuisine.

EPICUREAN – These are your high brow restaurants, committed to fancy ingredients, skilled preparation, and artistic flair. Vegetarianism, while strictly maintained, often takes a back seat to the gourmet experience. The owners of the establishment are not focused on saving the world; they are focused on getting the best return on their investment from their cooking school tuition.

WELLNESS – Finally, these restaurants are committed to the health and wellness of the patrons, the planet, or, if at all possible, both. The menu or restaurant Website typically outlines the health benefits of the food, either in its preparation (e.g. steaming vs. frying or using heart healthy oils), its ingredients (e.g. incorporating superfoods, such as kale, broccoli, blueberries, or almonds), or in its farming practices (e.g. using organic produce instead of pesticide-laden conventionally grown produce). Although the food at these restaurants may be delicious, the style, flavor, preparation, and context are all secondary to nutrition.

These FOCUS categories are subjective, not objective descriptors, but they should provide me an additional tool in my writing armamentarium. Just in time, too. Frankly, I’m getting sick of finding new synonyms for “delicious.”

Café Manna

Café Manna
http://www.cafemanna.com
3815 N. Brookfield Road, Brookfield, WI 53045
QISA (4, 4, 4, 4), $11-18, Vegetarian

“Pleasant” is highly underrated.

Despite our general attempts to seek out pleasantness in our friends, our surroundings, and our weather, there remains an underlying assumption in pleasantness that anything pleasant, “lacks substance.” Our pleasant friend always has a smile on her face and a soft voice but most likely has little rattling behind her eyeballs. Pleasant weather is warm and sunny with little to no precipitation but also conforms to an accepted standard deviation of human comfort. Pleasant may be the absence of anything offensive, but in turn, it becomes the lack of anything consequential or substantial.

Or so I thought.

Café Manna is a pleasant little restaurant in Brookfield, Wisconsin, and I mean “pleasant” in the most complex, deliberate, and consequential way possible. From the moment you walk in, every sound, sight, and smell points you toward civility and tranquility. The music overhead is classical. The waitresses are friendly and quick to serve. The photos on the wall are colorful photographs of fruits and vegetables. Café Manna is genteel without being snooty, relaxed without being somnolent. Once night in college, after I had written one too many literary analyses, I wrote in an essay, “the apparent simplicity is proof of its inherent complexity." It was my way of telling the teacher to stick it up her nose. However, at Café Manna, this statement rings true without any irony.

When you visit, and I hope that you do, I recommend that you order one of Zhena’s Gypsy Teas instead of wine or beer. The artisan teas include exotic flavors such as Lemon Jasmine, Brazilian Berry, and Rose Mint, among others. I opted for the Coconut Chai, a calming mix of black tea, cinnamon, clove, and coconut. It was unbelieving exquisite. And relaxing. And pleasant.

The cup of Middle Eastern Stew was more a yellow curry than what I think of as Middle Eastern. The soup was a yellow creamy turmeric broth with garbanzo and cannellini beans, potatoes, root vegetables, and spinach leaves. It was tasty without being spicy.

The Café Manna Burger was a Jamaican jerk lentil patty topped with spiced aioli, tender greens, red onion, and tomato. I expected a spicier jerk sauce, but keeping with the “pleasant” theme, the burger was relatively mild, good but not fantastic. The chef’s special vegetables, however, were unbelievable. Rarely do I wax poetic about steamed carrots and celery, but these were steamed just till fork tender and cooked with garlic and peppers to give them zest and spice. These were not pleasant vegetables. These were “sit down and stop talking, Dad’s in the zone, I said hush” vegetables.

The meal came with a complementary side of cashew and carrot hummus with whole grain pita chips. I am guessing the hummus was a raw food creation because I can’t think of any other reason to adulterate or recreate hummus. However, having said that, the cashew spread (I can not call it hummus for “religious” reasons) had a nice, if not pleasant, consistency and flavor. The chips had a good crunch and boasted much more integrity than store-bought pita chips.

The lemon curd tart I ordered for dessert had a morally superior almond flour crust. The crust, as expected, was courser and denser than a standard flour crust, but the curd tasted like standard sweet lemon curd, and I am a big, big fan of lemon curd.

Café Manna is a restaurant best shared with a friend, family member, or lover. Share a pot of tea together, comment on the classical music, admire the fresh ingredients, discuss the relative merits of raw and cooked foods, argue about politics, plan a little mischief, and maybe even conspire to overthrow a small Central American government.

Just be civil about it, y’all.

Tonic

Tonic
http://www.tonicfreshjuice.com
1217 2nd Street SW, Rochester, MN 55902
QISA (3.5, 3.5, 3.5, 3.5), $7-17, Vegetarian-Friendly

I just got the news from my doctor; I have borderline high cholesterol. My blood pressure is textbook perfect, and other than low vitamin D levels, my blood chemistry panel is normal. However, my BMI is technically in the “overweight” category, and I don’t get nearly enough exercise. “Don’t worry,” my doctor told me, “You don’t need to go on cholesterol-lowering medication. You should be able to manage it with diet and exercise.”

I suppose we all treat unpleasant medical news differently. Some treat it with indifference, preferring to hide their metaphorical heads in the sand. Others treat it with fear and reverence, following the moment of revelation with an epiphany on self worth, self maintenance, self control, and, occasionally, selfless devotion to their fellow human sufferers.

Me I take it personally. This is a sign of moral weakness. Sure, I live a vegetarian lifestyle. Sure, I eschew white bread for whole grain, sneak flaxseed into baked goods at every opportunity, mix chia with my morning oatmeal, and explore new and exciting uses for leafy greens and cruciferous vegetables. Apparently that’s not enough. It’s obviously time to step up my game.

Luckily, I received the news right before my trip to Rochester, Minnesota. If ever there was an entire city devoted to healthcare, this is it. This is where I would start my new mission to create Zev 2.0. Or possibly Zev 3.0. Zev 5.7? Doesn’t matter. It's New, Improved, Even Healthier Zev.

I started my new life by walking a mile to and from Tonic, a restaurant and juice bar. Tonic prides itself on its healthy, delicious, locally sourced food, with options for a wide variety of needs, including vegetarian, nut-free, gluten-free, and dairy-free. The restaurant definitely pushes the juice bar image with bowls of fruit on the counter (limes, lemons, apples, and avocados) along with a modern restaurant design including tall lucite chairs, low intricately patterned green plastic chairs, and soft benches. The restaurant pretty much screams “trendy."

I began my meal with a signature smoothie called “Grin and Berry It," a concoction of blueberries, cranberries, acai juice, red grapes, and coconut water. I don’t think it's possible to cram any more antioxidants into a single beverage without violating FDA regulations. The smoothie was a bit tart, but otherwise tasted like your standard multi-berry smoothie. Nonetheless, it must have contained some very rare, exotic, and possibly magical ingredients, because it cost me $9.

My lunch comprised a cup of black bean soup and a black bean burger. Perhaps I was skirting social disaster with so many black beans in a single meal. However, I had finished my professional meetings for the day, and I decided to risk gastronomical verbosity because, well, the soup looked pretty good. And it was. It was a hearty mix of beans, tomato, celery, and a medium amount of spice. The bean burger, which came with fresh greens, tomato, pickle, and barbecue sauce, was a bit bland but had a decent crunchy burger texture. The pickles on the burger were spicy, which was definitely a surprise, but a good one. The greens were shredded, which made it much easier to keep them on the sandwich.

I decided to try the chunky monkey bread pudding as well, hoping that it would also be full of cholesterol-lowering goodness. The bread pudding was a kitchen sink of coconut, banana, raisins, walnuts, and cocoa nibs, all covered in a light vanilla cream cheese sauce. The pudding was thick and tasty, without being overly fatty or buttery. It was an affable mix of flavors, and the cocoa nibs came an overall chocolate effect without any noticeable pieces of chocolate.

Bottom line? Tonic is a good restaurant, albeit way overpriced. If you are traveling on someone else’s budget, and you want a healthy alternative to fried cheese curds (or whatever else you can find in southern Minnesota), definitely check them out. But be prepared to pay an exorbitant amount for a smoothie.

I should let you all know that I am doing my darndest to maintain the healthy, cholesterol-lowering lifestyle. Despite a pinched nerve in my back, I’ve started working out again, and I’ve been working up quite a sweat on the exercise bike at Planet Fitness. Just recently, I took a long walk between gates at the Minneapolis-Saint Paul airport, and had a dinner of raw vegetables, hummus, nuts, and red wine in the Delta SkyLounge.

Oh, and I had a peanut butter cookie. One can only take healthy eating so far before it gets silly, right?

SweetArt

SweetArt
http://www.sweetartstl.com/
2203 S 39th Street , St. Louis, MO 63110
QISA (4, 4, 3, 4), Vegetarian

The artist-in-residence at the SweetArt family-owned bakeshop/café/art studio, changed his name from Clifford Miskell to Cbabi Bayoc. This new and completely made up name is an acronym that represents his personal philosophy on family, creativity, and community. Cbabi Bayoc stands for “Creative Black Artist Battling Ignorance – Blessed African Youth of Creativity”.

Some may see this as an affectation of pretentiousness, others as an affirmation of personal identity. Either way, I personally feel that the message is less important than the content itself. I like his art, plain and simple. He uses bright strokes and a slightly caricaturish style to convey positivity, personality, and real emotion. I want the man to draw a comic strip, only because I want to see what happens next with his characters.

SweetArt, the bakeshop and café run by his wife Reine, is a little like Cbabi’s art. Sure, there is an underlying philosophy and agenda driving the restaurant, but the food itself is what stands out. The treats are decadent (or at least taste that way), and the savory foods are creative and delicious. Not every dish hit the mark with me, but I had to admire the attempt.

The café’s SweetBurger is their top-selling item, a thick vegan patty of grains and lentils. The consistency of the burger is smooth and even, much more so than veggie patties at other restaurants which tend to be on the chunky side. I personally found the burger too sweet for my taste; I think it would have been improved by a saltier/spicier profile, but again, I admired the attempt.

I ordered the Make It Funky burger, which was the SweetBurger patty covered in house-made BBQ sauce, caramelized onions, organic mixed greens, vegan magic spread, vegan bacon, and vegan cheddar cheese. I could have ordered it with dairy cheddar cheese, but I figured "in for a penny, in for a pound." I wanted the full vegan experience. The Make It Funky was tasty but messy. The burger fell over before I took my first bite, and I found myself using a knife and fork to tackle its contents. Luckily, the sandwich came with a stack of napkins.

The side of dressed kale salad, however, was a pleasant surprise. The mix of kale, carrot, and cabbage in the peanut sauce was surprisingly good. The salad maintained a cole slaw-like crunch, but the tang of the sauce covered the bitter taste of the kale without overpowering the other vegetables. I could eat this stuff on a daily basis.

The café menu was definitely creative, and I would love to come back to try some of their other dishes, such as the vegan palak paneer pie in a phyllo crust. No, I don’t know what is in it, but I love palak paneer and I love spanakopita. The marriage of the two sounds brilliant. Or it could be a failure. But I give them points for trying.

The real focus of SweetArt is the bakery. They make a point of using the best ingredients (e.g. Plugra butter, Valrhona cocoa, and Callebaut chocolate) to create delicious treats. Note, I did not say healthy treats, I said delicious treats. I ordered a salted chocolate caramel cupcake which was just as decadent as it sounds. The buttercream frosting was light and not overdone or overstacked, the cake was moist and much better than most high-end cupcakes, and the pairing of the cake and icing was done artfully with a caramel drizzle. This was a cupcake made to be eaten, not made to be displayed.

I had difficulty deciding on the final QISA score. I debated internally whether to rate the Quality of the restaurant as a 3.5 or a 4. The sweetness of the SweetBurger unbalanced the culinary experience, leaving a slightly off taste in my mouth. I needed an outside, unbiased judge to help me decide. So I brought some vegan rice krispie treats home with me.

“You have got to go back to St. Louis!” my youngest son informed me after devouring his. “We need to get more of these. You have to find out how they made them!”

Four it is.