Skip to main content

The Seabiscuit

I watched this movie once.  It was okay.  I'm not much into horses or Tobey Maguire.

But I have to admit, it takes a lot of guts to name a restaurant after that movie, knowing people will be expecting an over-the-top horse racing theme.  For goodness' sake, the tagline at The Seabiscuit Café is: Bet On A Good Time. 

An interior with wrought-iron horses, check.  Larger than life horse racing posters, check.  Huge TV in corner that plays the movie Seabiscuit on a loop, check.  However, what seems like chintzy and over the top is tempered by the classy brick red and black color scheme.  Elegant without being pompous.  And as I entered the eatery last night, there were a lot of kids eating with their parents...so family-friendly too, I guess.

But one place the horsey theme gets carried away is on the menu.  Categories like The Winner's Circle, Run for the Roses, Betting on the Favorites - I just didn't get it (although The Starting Gate?  I get that - appetizers).  Being a former English teacher and lover of words, I pay attention to little things like Menu Categories. 

There's a lot to look at on the menu.  I dithered for several moments as I scanned over the choices.  The selection is eclectic...I mean, there's ribs, steak, pasta, burgers...all with their own sweet little twists.  But in the end, when I saw the Great Lakes Whitefish Reuben with Creamy Coleslaw, Swiss Cheese, and Thousand Island dressing, I was done.  Selection made.

I mean, if you've followed this blog for any length of time, you know how much I love my Reuben (cf. here) sandwich.  The best, traditional, Reuben I've ever had was from New Orleans...but the one here at The Seabiscuit is in a category all its own.


That is Russian Rye bread.  That is a lightly breaded and fried whitefish fillet.  That is creamy coleslaw ON the sandwich.  Those are sweet potato fries with chipotle mayo.  Are you hearing the Hallelujah chorus? 

I asked the chef how he'd done the fillet and he told me his secret, with the proviso that I "could take it back to Iowa, but [I'd] better not use it around here."  Deal, chef.

And because you, my readers, would have expected no less, I ordered dessert.  A homemade Apple Carrot Cake with Buttercream Frosting.  It was served warm, making the frosting was that delicious oozy texture.  I paired the cake with a highly acidic New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc, and it cut through that rich butteryness in a way that surprised and pleased me immensely.  I apologize for no pictures of the dessert...I was excited when it came, I pretty much smashed it within minutes.  Sorry, Brent.

It gives me hope...that on an island where the standard breaded cheese sticks, french fries, hamburgers, and chicken fingers run rampant...there are also dishes like the one above.  Differently delicious. 

If you come here to the island, I'll buy you one.


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

(She) Blinded Me With...Citrus

Excuse my attempt at tying today's blog entry with an iconic Thomas Dolby song.  What a terrible pun-ishment. Har har har. So, we're on the backside of Winter Vacation/Christmas Break/Holiday Hiatus here.  The kids return to school tomorrow, the freshman and I start back to our respective colleges next Monday. The clock is ticking and suddenly, I am whipped into frenzy to Get Work Done.  I suspect this phenomenon happens to many, many educators who try to avoid that panic-stricken night before they go back to work. And believe me when I say, I had the deepest, most earnest of intentions to write lesson plans, write quizzes, and generally prepare for the restart of my classes next week.  Like, really. And then...I was distracted by...citrus.  This happened. Okay, so....the lemons on the far right are no big deal.  They're available year-round.  But Meyer lemons...MEYER...I only find around here in the winter.  I first read about them i...

In Which I Suspect I Have Latent Tendencies...Much Like The Hulk, Or Similar

I find in most normally functioning families, the members have a distinguishing role or legacy or skill of some kind. Like, he's the smart one.  Or, he's the religious one.  Or...she's the glue that helps the fam together.  Or, she's the savvy one, so she's the Power of Attorney. In my family, that system went something like this: My dad was The Dad.  Cantankerous, crotchety, and especially tight with daughters' curfew times.  Also, not a fan of driving in Big Cities. My mom was the long-suffering, patient, reserved one. My brother was the baby, the one who got away with murder, the namesake, and also, Frosty Hoarder. Me?  My legacy?  The Ruiner of Remote Controls.  No lie.  Although I've repressed the memories, my parents claim I destroyed at least two remotes in my tenure as Child Under The Roof.  Remote #1: milk spillage; Remote #2: applesauce spillage. So, now you see why my younger brother was the favorite. Anyway, t...

Spaghetti Cake

Yes. You read that right.  Keep reading, friends, it's about to get good. Photo by Brent Nelson...who doesn't quite know about shadows and things in photography. Photo by your trusty author, who doesn't quite know about taking knockout food pictures. So, the caboose (Elliot) was in charge of meals this weekend...as part of his requirement for one of his Boy Scout badges.  Even though we'd be eating meals easy for a 12-year-old to put together (usually not healthy), I was totally ready to hand over the reins for the weekend. Saturday night's dinner was supposed to be simple.  Spaghetti.  But then, I remembered I had Justin's Chapple's Mad Tips article for Pasta Bundt Loaf .  I handed that over to the Boy Scout...and things just got awesome. The ingredients here seem to be a cross between those of a lasagna and an alfredo.  One pound of spaghetti noodles is cooked, and to which a bunch of cheese, milk, eggs, and seasonings are added.  All...