Food

I have a problem. I'm completely, hopelessly addicted to garlic. I'm ready to come clean now. I started this review ready to accuse the Bagel Beanery of putting drugs in their Meatless Magic sandwich. Now I realize that it's not their problem. It's mine. I'm Brian Miller, and I'm addicted to garlic hummous.

I rode my bike to work today, all smug in the knowledge that I wasn't wasting any gas or polluting the atmosphere. Fittingly, I also forgot to pack a lunch which shut me up quickly when the noon-hour rolled around. I had to eat, and I wasn't sure which walking-distance establishment made the most sense. Sure, there's the Beijing Kitchen 7 blocks away. Sure, 10 blocks away the downtown dining scene beckons with the promise of the Dog Pit. Heck, the incomprable Cottage Bar is only a few blocks down Fulton St.

None of those places were on the docket for today though, as Von suggested I give the Meatless Magic sandwich from Bagel Beanery a try. Like the call of the crack dealer ("First hit's free!") he convinced me to walk the scant 6 blocks and order one up.

I wasn't prepared. I didn't know what to expect. It's just not fair. Now, I'm sitting here a scant 12 minutes after finishing my sandwich and bag of incredibly-perfect bagel chips wondering how to get more. Should I rob my parents? Talk a walk on the dark side of town hoping to score a cheap hit? Do drug dealers even sell hummous? The answer to all these questions, sadly, is "No." I'll have to wait.

In the meantime, if you visit Bagel Beanery, order up a #14, buckle up, and prepare to live the dark life of an addict. Yes, it's that good. The seemingly simple concoction of a honey wheat bagel, garlic hummous, melted provolone chese and oregano (served open face, toasted of course) will take you by surprise. It'll leave you gasping for air in the gutter like a frat-boy after a hard night of partying. You'll forget where you live and exist in an all-consuming hummous-craving fog...

...or, you'll just love the sandwich and revel in the fact that $5.63 bought you an incredibly tasty sandwich, a bag of equally-addictive homemade bagel chips and a medium pop.

Either way, it's worth the trip.

Funny thing, pizza.

The worst one still makes my stomach growl, and the best ones have the power to render me nearly powerless as I stare at their wide array of baked toppings and cheese.

Grand Rapids, like every other American city, offers a dizzying array of delivery pizza options. In sticking with the theme of this flog, I will refrain from discussing the national chain pizzerias here. Sure they're all good (it is pizza afterall), but the locals are better. Save the Pizza Hut for your road trip across America where you can eat Pizza Hut three times a day and it'll taste EXACTLY THE SAME three times a day. Hooray.

Today, we're talking about local Grand Rapids pizza, and the mastery of the craft so deftly displayed by Big O's Cafe this weekend. We've tried a lot of pizza, most of it delivery, and all of it damn good. We live on the east side of town, so one particularly catastrophic event this winter put a pizzeria that I'd long admired within delivery range (barely). Big O's Cafe moved across the river from a westside location on Bridge St. to its new downtown digs on Ottawa Ave when its former location burned down. Their loss (unfortunate as I'm sure it was) turned out to be our gain.

Big O's delivers the finest pizzas I've had in Grand Rapids. Sure, I love Big Bob's, it's within walking distance of our house, and their cheezy sticks are possibly the best use of dough, grease and cheese on earth. Sure, we love cheap, fast Gino's. Sure, Rose's Express perfected the art of wood-fired personal pizzas several years ago. Yes, I realize Vitale's is everyone else's favorite. But the fact remains, Big O's somehow mixes outstanding yuppy foo-foo pizzas (like their Blue-Cheese Walnut pizza) with greasy-ass double-pepperoni pizza-pies that taste like they're fresh off a New York pizza cart.

It's that blend that makes this my favorite delivery option for dinner-time pizza. Order one up, their menu's online.

It wouldn't be fair to gush without being open and honest. The only downside I can find with Big Bob's is the price. It's a little bit more money than Big Bob's. Just keep that in mind. If all you really wanted was cheesy sticks, stick to Big Bob's. If the pizza matters most, Big O's is the place to go.

Ahhh, the smell of India. This place takes me back to my formative years. During my early childhood, my parents taught HSL (Hindi as a second language) to American kids at a small private school in Mumbai.

Actuaily, I've never been to India. But I'll say this, if the food in India is as good as the food at Bombay Cuisine, I might need to visit. Soon.

Nestled in Grand Rapids' Eastown neighborhood, Bombay Cuisine is truly one of my favorite restaurants in the area.

You see, Grand Rapids has long been pretty bland when it comes to restaurant choices. If you need a good steak, this is the town for you. If you want something else, things are turning around and getting better, but the town is still trying to un-do 150+ years of striving to be more middle-America than Omaha.

Let's put it this way: there are 10 times as many Famous T.G.I. O'Chillibee's Roadhouse type restaurants as there are restaurants even resembling local fare. Además, even a majority of locally owned Grand Rapids originals are of the "__________ Steakhouse and Grille!" variety leaving me with few choices when I'm searching for something other than sliced fried chicken on a bed of field greens with soy-sauce dressing.

Seriously, how many ways can you prepare an Asian Chicken Salad? The fact that every national chain has one, and they all taste roughly the same, leaves my stomach in knots of anger.

So it was, with great pleasure, we sat down over a year ago to try out Bombay Cuisine. It's good. Not the best Indian food I've ever had (Saffron in Kalamazoo takes that honor) and it's not the cheapest meal (walk to Yesterdog for that). It is however, tasty, affordable, quaint, original, locally owned, and situated in a great part of town.

So what'd I eat this time? Lunch. We've had dinner there before and the food is basically the same stuff. Lunchtime however brings out the buffet. Now, if you're like me and you already know Butter Chicken is actually a divine gift, you don't really need a buffet. But, I took advantage of the opportunity to go goldfish on Butter Chicken while simultaneously enjoying some great Saag, yellow-curry with veggies (forget the name) and their fine desserts (custard pudding with red grapes and supurb rice pudding).

Another consideration with regard to Bombay Cuisine is their extensive selection of veggie-friendly dishes. We have friends that don't eat meat and Bombay Cuisine is the kind of place where they can enjoy some great cauliflower-based mild yellow curries while I'm busy giving myself early onset diabetes by chowing down multiple plates of Tandoori.

Oh yeah, did I mention the Tandoori? They do it better than even Saffron in Kalamazoo (and that's saying something). It's incredibly tender, perfectly spiced, and not overcooked. Don't leave without trying it. It pairs nicely with Bell's Oberon which they thoughtfully provide on tap (along with 7 other beers...none of which end in "weiser").

...and therein lies the problem. If you follow the advice I've just layed out, you'll be eating custard pudding, rice pudding, tandoori chicken, veggie curry and 7 or 8 plates of the incomprable Butter Chicken. I'm thinking dinner might total 15,000 calories. That leaves you with 2 options. First, you could call an ambulance ahead of time. It's not a bad idea, but Megan had a much better idea last time we ate Indian: SHARE.

Go with a group. Order some of everything. Share it all. Go home happy.

Just a short review today.

Ritz Coney Island in downtown Grand Rapids has at least one thing going for it: At $1 per hot dog, it's awfully hard to avoid the place on Mondays. Today, I took a small tour of their menu with a Chicago, Detroit, Grand Rapids and Firehouse dogs. Each featured various toppings came lovingly presented in a plastic basket and cost me a total of $4.

Are the dogs outstanding? Not really. The chili wasn't that great (I prefer Kerby's in Detroit or Yesterdog's runny mess in Eastown), but again..they were A DOLLAR.

They've also plopped themselves right in the middle of Grand Rapids' growing nightlife. By staying open until 3am, they quickly seperate themselves from any other downtown dining options. For that reason alone, I'm predicint a long and prosperous reign on the downtown late-night eating scene.

Here's a thought: Sometimes location is as important to dining pleasure as everything else. Literally. Tiny Good Harbor Grill in Glen Arbor, Michigan is such a place. They're only open for the summer, opening the week before Memorial Day and closing when the winds of the fall seem to shutter the entire resort town in Michigan's Leelanau Peninsula. Three out of the last four years we've found ourselves here for a breakfast or lunch on their opening day. The food is quite good. Nothing to alert the NY Times about, but better than your average sandwich.

On this occasion, I had the pleasure of enjoying a carved turkey sandwich with dill harvarti, lettuce, and red onions on some locally baked wheat bread. Yes, it was as good as it sounds....BUT the highlight wasn't the sandwich (or the cup of homemade chicken chili I also enjoyed). It was the sun, the 65 degree temps, and the feeling you get when you're eating lunch outside in one of your favorite places.

Seriously. Visit if you get a chance. Enjoy the sun, enjoy the food and by all means, make sure to visit the big lake. It's the highlight we're all there to see in the first place.