We Labor in Anonymity Like the Stonecutters of Chartres

So I was on my way to pick up a cake at Bombon (looks amazing, by the way; report to come soon) and I was trying to think of somewhere along the way to eat lunch beforehand, since eating after getting the cake probably wouldn't be good for the cake on a hot day. Suddenly I saw a familiar blue awning and screeched to a halt. It was Rudy's Taste.

Then I saw a piece of paper that was instantly recognizable for its typography. It was this Chowhound post, posted proudly on the window. Pride and envy duked it out, for you see, the "chow-savvy friend" referred to in the first paragraph as having tipped off the poster to Rudy's was my friend Wyatt, and I was the one who had dragged him there a few days earlier, making me the Ur-chow-savvy friend in the whole equation-- or as a David Mamet film put it, "the guy behind the guy behind the guy." I thought, for about half a second, of bragging about this to the owners before I realized that it was confusing enough if English was your first language, let alone if it's your second. And besides, bragging about your finds is silly; others had known the place before me when it was Tropical Taste. The interesting part isn't who finds it first, it's when five or ten different posters uncover different aspects of a place, when the exploration continues, revealing new facets of a restaurant with each visit, each new palate to encounter it. There is no ownership conferred by being first.

Instead, we serve anonymously, humbly, farm club scouts helping to bring obscure players to the notice of the majors, and the public. The Internet helps us in disseminating the word more broadly today, but there has always been our kind, steering his coworkers away from a loud and flashy place and toward the infinitely better hole in the wall, writing up his survey of ethnic restaurants for the benefit of others at the University of Chicago, sharing suggestions for the best places to get clam chowder in Baltimore with a stranger he met five minutes ago on the Twentieth Century. Usually our names are unknown, though once in a while, by a twist of fate, a salesman gets in the habit of sending out his nationwide restaurant suggestions as Christmas cards and after he dies, his name somehow becomes famous for something almost completely different within the world of food.

And so, my secret identity concealed, my function as the secret arbiter of taste in Chicago, the Napoleon of food who sits at the center of a vast web, hidden to the restaurant, I had lunch at Rudy's, and judged how they were doing since my initial, fateful visit. Answer: struggling but trying. Some things on the printed menus whited out. A lunch special advertised on a storebought sign out front. Two other customers present while I was there, which is more than I've seen before but not that many for lunchtime.

I ordered the special, figuring they had an investment in it to recover. It was simplicity itself (a grilled, spiced chicken breast) but for $5.95 I was both well-stuffed and impressed. A piquant pico de gallo, a chicken soup blessed with two homemade meatballs of an intriguing multiplicity of flavors, chicken cooked perfectly, a little side of highly flavorful pinto beans-- this is a fine little restaurant that never lets you down, puts some heart and soul into every part of the meal, no matter how humble. As the Chowhound post in the window says, let's help keep it going. Let's fill it up. Let's tip off the people whose tips are followed by people. I want to walk by and see it bustling with people who will never know my name or what I (or you) had to do with what they're eating for dinner that night.

Thanks, Mike (and Wyatt). I decided to take my sister-in-law and her twin who came here from Guatemala a few years ago to Rudy's Friday night, as they were jonesing for some of their familiar dishes. I forgot that it's BYOB, but that really was the only disappointment with the experience. There was only one other group dining when we arrived, and while we were there, 2 other groups came in. The interior was cozy, and very clean. Chips and salsal were good, though not much different from any other place in town. We ordered Rudy's Taquitos to start, and found them to be just as you described in your initial post. A cup of chicken, vegetable and mini-meatball soup followed; it was good, though the girls had never seen meatballs in this type of soup back home. They both ordered the carne asada - tender and served with a tasty cup of chirmol - and I had the costillos (pork ribs) which were excellent. It arrived as a large rectangular section of meat, rubbed with a spice mixture that imparted a lovely burnt sienna color. Slow roasted, the meat came cleanly away from the bones and tasted great. With our entrees came a large mound of yellow rice flecked with veggies, a big scoop of fresh-tasting guacamole and 4-5 platinos (fried plantains). My sister-in-law asked if they could make an order of rellinitos and a sort of after-dinner drink made warm with pureed corn and cinnamon, and the kitchen obliged with no problems. Her sister ordered a horchata and thought it was very good, too. Overall, we left very satisfied and will come back again.

These stonecutters?

Who controls the British crown?
Who keeps the metric system down?
We do! We do.
Who leaves the Atlantis off the maps? [shot of Carl]
Who keeps the Martians under wraps? [shot of Lenny]
We do! We do. [shot of Martian]
Who holds back the electric car?
Who makes Steve Guttenberg a star? [shot of Steve]
We do! We do.
Who robs cave fish of their sight? [shot of Skinner]
Who rigs every Oscar night? [shot of Homer]
We do! We do.
-- The Stonecutters' call to order, "Homer the Great"



Marge: Homer, a man who called himself You-Know-Who just invited you to a secret wink-wink at the you-know-what. You certainly are popular now that you're a Stonecutter.

Homer: Oh, yeah. [reads from a book] "Beer busts, beer blasts, keggers,
stein hoists, A.A. meetings, beer nights..." It's wonderful, Marge! I've never felt so accepted in all my life. These people look deep within my soul and assign me a number based on the order in which I joined. [sniffs tearily]


MC

Finally had my camera with me whilst dining at Rudy's. Here are some pictures of a restaurant that I just like more and more every time I go there-- and dine more or less alone:

The fresh, yummy pico de gallo:



The taquitos-- this is actually a kids' meal, but it shows the taquitos described in several of the posts, here with the "kid-friendly salsa" (what a great idea!)



The carne asada:



And the Pepian chicken dish (first one on the left hand page), in a brown sauce that was sort of halfway between brown gravy and mole-- those things that would be chunks of potato if your grandma made this are actually pears, oddly enough:



That was really good, by the way. This might be the best restaurant in Chicago. I think maybe we need to change the name to Rudysforum.com. Okay, it's not THAT good. But Rudy's is plenty good for everyday eating of a high standard.

By the way, the new ape exhibit at Lincoln Park Zoo is really cool, especially when the gorillas hang out right by the glass (not to plug Gorilla Gourmet or anything...)



Rudy's Taste
1024 N Ashland
773-252-3666
Closed Wednesday