I went on a food tear in South Bend and, with the help of Bruce’s recommendations and a few of my own discoveries, managed to have a few good meals.
First, the discoveries.
Find #1:
Knowing full well the rabid opinions about BBQ on this board, specifically about ribs and tips, I humbly submit Minnie Bo Ribs to the mix. I spotted this ramshackle building on South Bend Ave., and nearly got T-boned by a Honda Civic when I pulled a fast U-turn to check it out. One thing I know about good barbecue: the best stuff is rarely found in those spit-shined and polished restaurants with lots of neon, waitresses wearing “flash” and squeaky-clean laminated menus. Truly good BBQ is made by people who are too busy doing what they do best to have time for such window dressing. Minnie Bo is in this category.
Bo, the owner, wasn’t around, but I placed an order for tiny tips, $5 (as opposed to a rib tip dinner, $9, or Minnie tip dinner, $8) with hot BBQ sauce with his wife Minnie, and got some of the “history” of the place from daughters August and Gemini. It’s only been open six or seven months, the kids don’t know where mom and dad got their BBQing skills, and Gemini thinks the hot BBQ sauce is too hot. I thought it was lovely.
I know some people like the steamed, falling-off-the-rib type of BBQ, and others like the Honey 1 style—more meaty, stuck-to-the-bone, which I find a bit tough—but Minnie Bo ribs find a happy medium ground between the two. Tender, but with a good chew. The tips are bathed in a spicy, smoky sauce that I would gladly slurp through a straw. Not the cloying, sweet, “Jack Daniels” stuff you find everywhere, not the vinegar-based North Carolina variety, but a brilliant balance of sweet-salty-hot-sour. And definitely a bit of heat.
Minnie Bo Ribs
1740 South Bend Ave.
574.272.7427
Find #2: Chicory Café
I landed here on recommendation from a waitress at another coffee shop, who said they served Louisiana food. Always intrigued by Midwest, East and West Coast interpretations of “southern”, “Cajun” and “Creole” eats, I had to stop in. The place features standard café fare—sandwiches, coffee of all manner, teas, Italian sodas—but it was the “muffaletta” caught my eye. (I think they also do beignets and “Po-Boys”.)
I ordered a half, fully expecting some lame interpretation served up on ciabatta or foccacia. Not only did the sammich come with Zapp’s Cajun Crawtators (not a traditional side, mind you, but still…ZAPP’s!), the bread and the olive salad—THE crucial elements in a good muffaletta—were outstanding. The bread comes from the chain bread bakery, Breadsmith (see Find #3), and although it was missing the sprinkling of sesame seeds you’ll find on an authentic Central Grocery muff, this bread was a fine specimen. Crisp-tender crust, chewy, olive-salad-absorbing interior…perfection. The olive salad is made in-house, and impressive. (I pressed the counter guy on this point by teasing him a little and saying, ‘It’s not homemade just because you opened the jar here.’ He insisted…made in-house.)
There may be an equal here in Chicago, but I haven’t found it yet. In Michelin terms, I’m not saying it’s a destination muffaletta--worth a 2-hour drive just for a taste—but if you’re anywhere in the vicinity, worth a detour.
Chicory Café
105 E. Jefferson Blvd.
574-234-1141
Find #3: Breadsmith
A cursory search for bakeries in South Bend turned up an old school, First Communion/Graduation/Retirement cakes, doughnuts and cookies bakery (Dainty Maid Bake Shop), an Italian deli/bakery (Macri’s), an Italian restaurant pastry shop (Ciao’s), and Breadsmith.
The first three bakery stops were totally unremarkable. I have nothing against people who eat airbrushed cakes (Dainty Maid), but for the most part, the airbrushing is the best thing about the cake, to which I say…airbrush a T-shirt instead and buy a cake worth eating.
Breadsmith, on the other hand, was a nice surprise. I didn’t realize it was a chain, or that there’s a store here in Chicago. Will I give up Red Hen or Bleeding Heart and take a vow of exclusivity to Breadsmith? Hardly. The apple pie muffin I took back to the hotel and nuked the following morning was nice. What will make me go back is the muffaletta bread, or what I’m guessing they call “Rustic Italian” on their menu. If I ever get the craving for a muffaletta, this is the bread that’ll make the sandwich.
Breadsmith
2022 South Bend Avenue
574.273.9130
Other food stars of the weekend, on Bruce’s recommendation:
After a day of non-stop grazing, I still managed to put down a Prime Rib Dip from Eddie’s Steak Shed. I don’t even like prime rib, USDA Prime or otherwise. I loved it. The Mr. got the special: 10 oz. ribeye and a half slab. The ribs were kinda sticky-sweet and too mushy, but the ribeye was cooked to perfection (medium rare) and very flavorful. The other jackass we ate with ordered swordfish. At a place called the “Steak Shed”. Our waitress, about 80 pounds of surly sweetness, made fun of him. It was great.
I spoke with the new owner, Nick, who bought the place from Eddie a few months ago. He said they’re still doing in-house butchering and aging, and that Eddie still comes in to do some of the cuts. I can’t compare old vs. new, or vouch for the butchering and aging, but I would definitely go back based on this experience.
Eddie’s Steak Shed
12685 Adams Road (S.R. 23)
574.277.1076
Khun Daeng Thai Kitchen was everything it has been billed here as. If you’re nice and ask the sweet, inquisitive proprietor, they’ll give you the un-American Thai treatment. The papaya salad made me sweat. Yay!
Disappointments from the weekend:
* Elia’s: I suppose if it’s the only Mediterranean place in town, I can see why it gets high marks. But the kibbe was dry and flavorless and the hummus garnered this comment: “It tastes like it looks. Pasty.” The baba ghanoush had a nice, garlick-y kick to it, and the foul moudammas was nice, but everything else we ordered (shish kebab, shish tawouk, falafel and a mixed grill entrée) was just kind of…eh.
* Macri’s Italian Bakery: Not worth the caloric intake. The Florentine I ate was wilted, not crisp, and the cannoli was an insult to cannoli-dom.
* Little Linda’s BBQ Café, on the southwest side of town,
looks like the kind of run-down place in the middle of nowhere that might just serve the best BBQ and fried chicken ever. Based on the same restaurant logic that drew me to Minnie Bo Ribs, and between the hot waft of chicken frying I got driving by and the desolate location, I figured it had to be a winner.
It is not.
LTHForum rules prevent me from saying more about the food. So I’ll say this: the waitress was REALLY nice. So nice, in fact, I choked down a leg and part of a wing from the 4-piece dinner I ordered just because I didn’t want to make her feel bad.
* Four Seasons, near the South Bend airport, struck out for being one of two restaurants that swindled me into the “fresh” pitch, which I posted about
here.