Wednesday, August 16, 2006


Patience has never been a virtue I've possessed. So last night, my visiting little sis and I scrapped our plans to make dinner and went in search of Pies-n-Thighs. It's a confusing setup. There's a little alley on South 5th with folding tables sporting red and white checkered tablecloths. Then there's an open door to a kitchen and not much space for the waiting customers and three white-aproned ladies who run the whole operation, from bussing tables to cooking the food. And then there's a huge, dark, empty bar that's connected to the kitchen and smells like Lysol.

We hailed a white-aproned worker. "Do we just, like, sit down?" "Have you ordered yet?" She gestured toward the kitchen. "Aaaaah, ok." We went into the kitchen and glanced up at the menu board--one of those black ones with slats where white plastic letters can be arranged, just like at the establishments I called "restaurants" while growing up in Central Wisconsin. I ordered the pulled pork sandwich and when asked what side I wanted, I saw a pile of green beans covered in hardboiled egg and bacon, pointed, and said, "That." My sis ordered the grilled cheese with a side of green beans (we've had some jealousy issues). After a little more confusion regarding how to procure beer (you get it from the bar in a plastic cup, and then you can take it outside) we sat happily at our table.

We had fun watching other people making similar rookie mistakes as ours while calming our growling stomachs with Brooklyn Lager. I was already anticipating my next visit, when I could feel superior to everyone who's never been there before and is justifiably confused. Anyway, one of the white-aproned girls brought out our food. Of course, it was delicious. The pulled pork was super spicy but tamed by the finely chopped coleslaw and pickle slices it's served with on a bun, the green beans were cold and crisp and not overpowered by the surprisingly sensible amount of egg and bacon, and the grilled cheese was extra-grilled and extra-cheesy. They messed up and brought my sister french fries instead of green beans, so we eventually got both. (On a side note, I never understand why people get upset when restaurants err. It almost always means you'll get something for free.) Anyway, after finishing two beers and joining the clean plate club with everything except the fries (we came close though,) my stomach was so full I could barely breathe but my sister managed to convince me to get some pie (twist my arm!). My blueberry was great, and her raspberry peach was even greater. Pie is not a food I ever really seek out, and I rarely even eat dessert anymore (booze usually kills any sugar cravings I may have,) but I think that just changed.

The whole shebang (minus beer, but that was from the bar) cost us $21. We tipped my new favorite ladies $12. Between lunch, eat-in dinner, and takeout, I plan to have tried everything on the menu (fried chicken, battered catfish, mac 'n cheese...) by the end of September. Everyone needs goals, right?


VE said...

And I hope you meet that goal.

margeing said...

So you describe it as quaint. I am picturing the tables with table cloths and thinking this is place that I could see Biff and I, then you launch into the food eating. It seems like an awful lot of food. For your sake, I hope you are a very tall and muscular man, otherwise you have no business bragging about how much food you can eat.

ham sandwich said...

wait. what?!? i'm confused. one of your readers thinks it's not cool to brag about food consumption?

well, i struggled mightily through approximately five pounds of mac 'n' cheese at dumont last week and last night i devoured a reuben on the scale of katz's in approximately ten minutes.

you go, grrrrrrl.

yours in gluttony,

ellen (<- very tall, but not at all muscular or manly)

Anonymous said...

I've been dreaming about that pie ever since.

And the tables had table cloths, yes.