The Not-So-Fast Food Solution

The Crow's Nest Cafe
138 E Main St
Glendale, KY 42740
(270) 369-9444‎
Tuesday - Saturday, 5-9 pm Eastern
Reservations strongly recommended

There is a little place about 20 minutes from my home that Fey and I love to frequent. It's a restaurant called The Crow's Nest Cafe in the small town of Glendale, KY, just about an hour south of Louisville. The Crow's Nest is a tiny place--not more than ten tables on a generous estimate. Quite often, there are only two employees working--the cook and the server. If you can get in at all without a reservation, you're probably going to wait for your meal.

Now you probably think you know where this is going--a dietribe on restaurants that understaff, that cannot handle the volume of customers, blah blah blah. Well, you're wrong, I say. Wrong. My official statement on The Crow's Nest is, if you don't have the time to wait for the food, come back when you do have time, sit down, shut up, and enjoy yourself.

So what is this miraculous food served up by the good people in Glendale? What is this culinary delight that makes a limited menu and long wait seem like such a small price to pay?

Pizza, dudes. I kid you not. Hand to heart, voice to the gods, pizza.

The Crow's Nest is a mom and pop pizza joint, five-course prix-fixe delight nestled in this little hickup of a quaint old downtown. The restaurant is situated in an old home, with a tiny dining room dominated by a view of the kitchen and wood-fire stove. Almost everything they serve, from the crusty bread to the wood-fired vegetables to the pizza all the way to the cookie that comes with dessert, makes its way through that wood-fire stove. And every bit of it is fantastic--so worth the wait.

Now a place this small would be a nightmare without the right people running it, and The Crow' Nest is lucky enough (or smart enough) to know that. Owner Dick Franklin is in the back, cooking the pizzas and bread and veggies. There are usually one or two servers covering the small room, preparing salads, filling drinks, and being generally as friendly as your best friend's mom (the cool one--not the mom who thinks you're a bad influence).

Everything is pretty cozy, so it isn't uncommon to have conversations cross from table to table over to the kitchen. We've been there several times, and they never seem to forget about my cheese and meat thing. They are completely open to working with me on getting it right; consequently, I do not have any trouble leaving this joint full and happy. Also, Dick seems perfectly content to answer questions and crack jokes while he cooks the food. It's like visiting the home of a friend who makes really fantastic pizza.

Okay, so we've covered decor, service--what about the food?

Oh, man. If I could, I would go there just for the bread and the wood-fired vegetables. The bread is of the French persuasion, crusty and perfect and hot out of the oven. The small loaf comes sliced to your table with Extra Virgin Olive Oil and pesto.

A salad follows--one selection here, this is the house salad and it changes regularly. The last time we went, our salad was green leaf lettuce, pineapple, a fried onion ring, and dried cranberries, drizzled with a raspberry walnut vinaigrette. Sure, they would work with you if, for instance, you hated dried cranberries, but the delight of trying it as is can be a reward in itself. Sometimes I'm generous and give Fey my onion rings. Sometimes I'm greedy and only stop short of licking the plate due to some misplaced sense of propriety. (My grandmother would be so relieved.)

The salad leads into my favorite course--the veggie plate. A variety of vegetables -- the usual suspects, including carrots, broccoli, etc., plus rarer choices like sweet potato, Brussel sprouts and radish - are dusted in flavored bread crumbs and cooked in the fire. The regular veggie plate also comes with genoa salami and a bite of cheese (which the good people in the kitchen always replace with extra veggies for me!). I can't speak to the cheese and meat (although Fey swears it's delicious), but I can tell you I'd travel all the way to Nashville just for a plate of those veggies.



There are five different pizzas to choose from, each namd in honor of Dick's family. With the prix-fixe menu, you can either get one pizza per person ($19/person) or two people can share a pizza ($16/person). There is enough food for two people to happily share one pizza--even if the two people are Fey and me! (Yeah, no cheese or meat on that side. No, seriously. Put all my cheese and meat on her side, please.) The Fun with Dick and Jane is my personal poison--roma tomatoes, baby spinach, and mozzarella (which they held without even blinking, adding onions instead at my request). Other choices include The Ben Franklin - a white pizza with Kentucky country ham, pineapple and mozzarella - and the incredibly popular Burn Lady - ground beef, jalapeno peppers, five cheeses and tortilla strips. Oh, and did I mention they set the Burn Lady on fire? Yeah, it's that kind of place.



Once you've gorged yourself on pizza, salad, veggies and bread, you'd probably think that was the end of it. But no--they give you ice cream and a home made chocolate chip cookie. Because they can, that's why!



Now, the menu offers blackened or sesame-ginger salmon as an alternative to pizza ($22/blackened; $25/center-cut sesame-ginger), but I can't see why you would do that. I'm sure it's delicious--everything else is. But the pizzas are the crowning glory, and if you're coming all this way, you might as well go with the specialty.

As I said earlier, Fey and I can split one of their pizzas (and her cheese and meat never touch my pristine slices) and leave as happy as if we had sense for between $35-$40 (including drinks, tip and tax). Of course, this is not the place to go when you're in a hurry. Even when they are not busy, this is not fast food. This is good food, and face it--some things are so worth the wait. So block out some time. Prepare for a leisurely meal. Slow down and enjoy yourself. Oh, and make reservations. Seriously--the only thing worse than not being able to get in is not being able to get in after you've smelled the food.

Dinner and a Movie

Well, it's another weekend and another fun-filled post at hand. Okay, maybe not such a fun-filled post, but here I am anyway.

Fey and I decided to go back for lunch at Adrienne & Co. in Jeffersonville, IN, yesterday, and we both have discovered something--since the weight loss, neither of us can eat as much food. I was downed by a double-decker PB&J on toasted wheat bread, a side salad, and half an eclair. Couldn't even touch my cupcake. (Soooo much food on the lunch special.) Fey had a chicken and avacodo sandwich on focaccia with a side of chips, and came away much less terribly stuffed than me. (Oh, and she had the other half of that eclair.)

We decided to go see "Race to Witch Mountain" in Louisville. It was actually quite exciting. Duane Johnson has pretty much left The Rock in his past and is doing very well playing himself in action movies. He was quite likable and carried the movie easily. The teens were good--close enough looking to the original kids from the 70s film to be nostalgic, but different enough to be their own characters. The effects were off the scale, and for the most part the stereotypical sci-fi conventioneers didn't make me want to hurl. (Although I was the only geek there who caught the Whitley Streiber cameo....maybe the stereotypes aren't so far off the mark?) I was distracted by Carla Gugino through the whole thing. Not that she wasn't great--I've always liked her. But with her hair done that way, she looked eerily familiar. It took a minute or two, but then I figured it out. Actress Carla Gugino and my friend, author Maya Bohnhoff, could be sisters. Check out below.

Separated at birth?

Anyway, after the movie we decided to have dinner at Queen of Sheba. A few years back, we ate there and loved it--not only for the food, but for the atmosphere. They've recently moved from their hole in the wall right off the freeway on Bardstown to a newer place on Taylorsville Road.

We didn't stay for dinner. We were ignored, left standing for a table (when a table was literally right in front of us), told they were looking for a suitable table "in the back" because they didn't want us seated "in the middle of the floor" (then why is there a table there, we ask?). The only reason we got a seat at all was because I went back to talk to the manager and convinced them that the two fat chicks would be perfectly happy to sit "in the middle of the floor" (which was coincidentally, right in view of everyone--ooh, scary--fat chicks where the Beautiful People can see them!) Of course, there was another fifteen minutes of being completely ignored before Fey decided she'd had it and we were gone. Now this wasn't a busy situation--this was seriously being ignored. I tried to make eye contact with a server who averted her eyes. I'm not sure what shit was going down, but Queen of Sheba is so not on our list at the moment. Fey gave the manager an earful before we left--and the manager didn't actually deny that the reason we were not seated up front was because we were not as attractive as the rest of the customers. I don't know. We both may have been hormonal, but it was still a very bad experience for both of us--one neither is in the mood to repeat any time soon.

We wound up at Shalimar again, and ironically got the best service we've ever gotten there. I tried the mushroom curry and was in heaven. Seriously, it was so damned good. I took half of it home (still kinda full from lunch, believe it or not), and my taste buds are just waiting for Monday at work to eat it.

Today we're going to make fried rice for lunch, and if we're up to it, I'm going to make my grandmother's corn soup for dinner. I'm not sure how that's going to work out--we may just wind upsaving the corn soup for another day if we're neither too hungry. But it's out there--still cold enough for soup, ya'll.

The Great Valentine's Day Food-a-Thon, Part One

Every once in a while, you really do a holiday up right—the perfect gift, the perfect meal, the perfect everything. Last year's Valentine's Day? Not so much for me. In fact, I screwed up pretty seriously, so this year I was looking to make up for it in a big way. So I took off the day from work and Fey and I decided to have a Foodie Bliss Valentine's Day in Louisville. The entire thing lasted two days, and while we wound up broke for the rest of the week, it was more than worth it.

Our festivities started out, as all good holidays should, with dessert. We stopped at Sweet Surrender Bakery on Frankfort Ave. Sweet Surrender is a rarity in this day and age—they offer sinfully delicious products, ecologically sound work practices, and good-old fashioned good service to boot. Fey had the chocolate strawberry cake (hands down the best dessert of the weekend) and I had a conversation heart sugar cookie (both pictured below).

Chocolate Strawberry Cake and Conversation Heart Sugar Cookie (above)

We then headed off to Corbett's on Brownsboro Road. Corbett's is old-school fine dining, with glorious table settings (see below), exquisite food, and excellent service. Fey started with fried calamari and I had the roasted garlic and mushroom bruschetta (pictured below). I have to admit, I was torn between a salad and the bruschetta, but I'm glad in the end I got the latter. The roasted garlic and mushrooms were slightly salty with a tender texture that matched well with the crispy toasted bread.

Table Setting (Corbett's)

Roasted Garlic and Mushroom Bruschetta (above)

For once, Fey and I decided to get the same entree—sauteed shrimp, linguini, spinach, tomato, lemon, feta and herbs (see picture below). I gave my feta and shrimp to Fey, and she held the spinach and tomato, but we both enjoyed the delicate flavors and textures.

Sauteed Shrimp with Linguini (above)

Dessert was excellent, although not as good as that cake from Sweet Surrender. There were two lunch offerings, the banana bread pudding with bourbon sabayon and carrot cake with orange cream cheese icing (both pictured below). I got the bread pudding and Fey got the carrot cake, and we each thought we got the better of the deal. I normally pass on banana desserts, but this was so incredibly good I didn't mind at all. Fey's carrot cake was spicy and dense, and the icing was very rich.

Carrot Cake (above)

Banana Bread Pudding (above)

We ate dinner at Fazoli's that night, mainly to save up cash for Day Two's extravaganza, which included lunch at Dakshin and dinner at Varonese. More on that in part two!

Note: All photographs in the post (c)2009 by Fey Becker.

A Tale of Two (sorta Three or Four) Restaurants

One of the best things about weekends (well, the weekend after payday, that is) is that we get to eat out more than once. It's our big thing, our entertainment for the week. And now that Fey is thoroughly committed to the idea of trying every good restaurant in Louisville, weekends are an adventure.

Friday was especially sweet, since a friend of the family fixed my car and it's running the best it has in five years. We decided to start at the beginning of Fey's Big List with Amici in Old Louisville. Amici was a lesson for us, because we refused to listen to our instincts.

Fey didn't like the place from the moment we entered--the decor, the feel, the prices. I wanted to give it a break (although I'm sure the fact that I didn't feel like getting back out into Friday night traffic might have had something to do with it.) I was incredibly unimpressed with the service--our server actually forgot my drink order while bringing Fey's. I eventually had to get another server to bring me my drink.

We discussed our options over bad cheese biscuits and cold Italian bread. Should we stay? Should we try someplace else? Eventually, we decided to use our Super Secrit Appetizer Test. You see, if a questionable restaurant doesn't win us over with appetizers, we pay our bill and head out to another restaurant for entrees.

I got the cream of mushroom soup (around $3.50) and Fey got the antipasto ($11.50). My first bite of soup was not inspiring--there was an odd taste to it, which could have been oil or something. However, each successive bite got better until the overall taste rating was satisfactory to me. Fey's antipasto was...well, uninspired. But it had the benefit of having the "best mozzarrella" she'd ever tasted. So here we were, at a crossroads. Do we give the place a chance based on decent, but not overly inspired appetizers? At this point, it behooves me to admit, I was swayed by their vegetarian offerings. It's the rare Italian restaurant where I have the opportunity to eat something besides spaghetti marinara, and the thought of vegan pizza or vegan meatballs had me tempted.

So, we decided to go for it.

Bad idea.

The first rule of Eating Healthy is "If you have to try too hard, it's not worth it." In other words, vegan meatballs and whole wheat spaghetti may be much better for you than the real deal, but it's a rare chef who can make them taste good. And the chef at Amici did not pass this test. Fact is, there is enough wiggle room in Italian cuisine that a great chef can offer tasty vegetarian options without resorting to bad commercial pasta and meatballs made from (among other things) Gimme Lean sausage mix. Still, I have no one to blame but myself for this meal. My gut told me to stick with regular pasta marinara, but I just had to try the "healthy stuff." My bad. Won't make that mistake (to the tune of $14.00) again.

Fey opted for something a little less healthy, the Orchard Pork Medallions. At $17.50, this entree looked at least interesting. The menu described it as "Pan seared pork medallions served with caramelized onions, Anjou pears and an apple-cider brandy reduction served with flavorful horseradish mashed potatoes." According to Fey, the flavor combinations did not work at all, the reduction was thin and watery and more apple juice than reduction. To my non-carnivore eyes, it looked...well, yucky. It was brown and goopy and had no structure at all. It looked like everything was just thrown together. Now, as a good Cajun girl, I know ugly food can be delicious. But Fey assured me, this was not the case with the pork medallions.

We left most of our entrees on our plate. Amici tries, which I like, to offer options to its customers. It tries, which I like, to recognize diners with food restrictions.

Ultimately, however, Amici fails on execution. Fifty dollars later, we left unsatisfied, disappointed, and feeling pretty stupid for ignoring our better sense. Scratch that one off the list. We wound up at Varanese for mocha crème brulee and pampering from the awesome staff there. It was ten dollars of comfort (since we didn't actually eat our entrees at Amici, I didn't begrudge myself the calories) to counterbalance a very upsetting dinner.

So, burned and stinging, we roll into Saturday not really excited about our prospects. Fey did her research--checked reviews, checked prices, checked everything--and we settled on North End Cafe. This was perfect. I knew where it was, so no chance of getting lost on the way. The food looked safe enough. And I'd heard good things about it.

Seems the entire restaurant (we learned after our hour long drive up from Elizabethtown) was booked for a private party. Too bad the management didn't bother to put a sign on the door. I only figured this out when I saw the wedding book on the table and asked a server, "hey, um, is this a private party?" Yeah. Move North End Cafe a little lower on the To-Do List.

After some soul-searching and a stilted conversation with a clerk at a convenience store, we decided to head out to Bardstown Road and try out Dakshin Indian Restaurant. At this point, it was 10 pm on a Saturday night, we were both exhausted and hungry. Needless to say, when we pulled up into a strip mall and saw the cheesy neon sign, our spirits were a little dashed. Fey went in to check out the lay of the land.

When she exited, her exact comment was this: "It smells like heaven in there, but I hate the atmosphere." I parked the car. I wasn't about to let something like atmosphere keep me from a place that smelled "like heaven." (Oddly enough, we recounted later, Amici didn't have a smell at all. That's not a really good sign, is it, in retrospect?)

And Fey was right. The atmosphere was a bit cheesy, with the enormous flat screen televisions playing Bollywood music videos and the booths that seemed a bit reminescent of a Luther's BBQ from the 80s. But, lord have mercy, it smelled good.

Another positive sign--there wasn't a single white person in the room except us. And the menu did not offer any explanations as to the food. Any restaurant that assumes you already know what all the exotic stuff on the menu is...well, it's catering to people who know the cuisine. Good sign.

Bad for us, though. Fey asked the incredibly attentive server if he had a "white girl's menu" or if he could help us make sense of the numerous options. An older menu was quickly produced, that had descriptions of the offerings. We got vegetable samosas ($3.99) to share, as well as aloo naan ($2.50). The samosas were spicy enough to have a kick, but not so spicy as to burn our mouths, and the texture was perfect. I wasn't as happy with the veggie pakoras ($3.99), but that's probably because I bit into a big hunk of bell pepper, which I loathe. Of course, the non-bell pepper portion of the pakora was wonderful--Fey and I both loved it. The naan was delicious--crispy and flavorful and satisfying.

For entrees, Fey stayed with the tandoori chicken ($9.99), which came in a generous portion on a sizzling platter and looked perfectly cooked to me. Fey pronounced it the best tandoori she'd ever had, and praised it no end. I went with the vegetable pulao with korma ($6.99). I will admit that I was a wimp and was not able to eat it all--it was a little on the spicy side. However, the flavor of what I could eat was so delicious that I couldn't bear not to take it home and try to, well, wimp it down as a leftover. Yes, I'm offended with my own limp palate, but I digress.

In the end, we were stuffed (even with me bringing the bulk of my entree home) and our bill came only to about $40 (with tip).

The moral of our tale, boys and girls? Go with your gut. And if a place smells like heaven, try it out.

Flashback: Old Skool Ain't Always Bad

I have this craving for the new and exciting. It's a Gemini thing--always seeking that which is new and different and kinda scary/weird/cool to experience.


But while my Sun and Ascendent are in the air, my Moon is solidly ensconced in Capricorn, and there is a huge part of me that just loves traditional places and foods. Which brings me to Stone Hearth. When we first moved to Kentucky, I was terrified that my days of eating in decent restaurants was over (little did I know then of the thriving food scene in Louisville). I was certain my dining choices would be limited to fast food chains and flavor-free buffets stuffed with overcooked veggies and loads of fried meat-substances.


There was one place in Elizabethtown, however, call Stone Hearth. We avoided it at first, mainly because it looked expensive and we were not exactly rolling in the dough. However, when I got a steady job the school board, my boss took me to lunch at Stone Hearth for Secretaries Day.


I have to admit, my first thought after lunch was, I need to get Fey in here.


Since that first encounter, Stone Hearth has become one of our places in E-town, somewhere to go for a good meal, great service, and fantastic decor without having to drive to Louisville. The food is consistently good, and while the prices are slightly higher than your average chain...so is the quality.


But we were talking about traditional things, and that is the focus of this article. Stone Hearth is traditional. It's Old Skool (as they say): white tablecloths, crystal glasses, low lighting. Your entrees are brought out on a rolling cart. The salad bar is decorated with floral arrangements. The soundtrack (at a tasteful volume) is right out of my parents' vinyl collection- Frankie, Deano, and Rosemary Clooney...with the occasional Micheal Buble thrown in for good measure. I often suspect mob deals are being made back in one of those dark, dark booths.


Granted, this is the sort of restaurant my grandparents frequented. And you know, that's not such a bad thing. There's a lot to be said for old-fashioned service, solid menu items, and a dignified atmosphere.


We always try to order an appetizer, when the budget allows. Fey's favorites are the brie-filled phyllo tarts and the Red and White crab dip (oooh, those lavash crackers are to die for!). I loved the portabello fries when they have them, although it's kinda on the Do Not Indulge list now.


The core of Stone Hearth's menu, though, is high-end Middle America—beef, chicken and other meats. They do have a fairly decent seafood section, particularly the salmon. I had it grilled for supper one night, and I was stunned at how good it turned out. (We live in Kentucky—not exactly the place to get fresh fish.) Fey usually orders the prime rib (which they will trim to her satisfaction), however last night she got the crab-crusted salmon in lobster bisque, which was absolutely delicious. The salmon was perfectly cooked, the crab cakes were crispy and not too bready, and the lobster bisque was delicious.

Dessert comes offered on a doily-lined tray, usually when you are so stuffed you don't even want to think about not-actually-Derby Pie, or Italian Wedding Cake, or that delicious hand-whipped cream topping which Fey sometimes just orders on the side by itself.

Of course, during it all, your servers (ask for Marie—she's awesome and tells great stories) bring you bread. An entire article could be written about Stone Hearth's bread. First you're given a warm, home-made roll with strawberry butter. Later, you get what I believe they call a butterflake roll. It's the unholy love child of a croissant, a muffin, and a dinner roll, and it's addictively evil. These are my downfall, especially when I'm trying to control calories and portion sizes. I could forego dessert for two more of these things. Seriously.

In the end, though, the best thing that sells Stone Hearth is the service. We go often enough to have our favorites, and the staff know us and our food issues. Jennifer last night, remembered our drink orders (I always get Diet Pepsi and Fey, unsweetened iced tea) from Christmas. Marie, as I mentioned before, is a pro with a fantastic European accent and a warm and funny personality. Paul and Charles always make us feel like old friends, and well…you get the message.

Stone Hearth is a little oasis of civility in an increasingly crass and thoughtless world. It may be old-fashioned with perhaps not the most cutting edge of cuisine, but that's not such a horrible thing, is it? There's a lot to be said for the way things were, and when nostalgia tastes this good, I'm all for it.

Little Lost Cajun in Kentucky

A few weeks ago, Fey and I tried a Louisville Cajun restaurant called Furlong's. I liked it so much, I wrote a post about it on LouisvilleHotBytes. Lo and behold, the owner is a member there, and posted my review on their website! Oh, yeah, I've finally found my calling. Writing about food.