When you see a sign that announces "the best X in town" (or "the world"), do you tend to think that's a pretty good indication that they're at least decent-- or do you tend to think that if they were any good they wouldn't need to brag so hard?
I've found evidence for both points of view over the years, but lean, I suppose, toward taking that kind of advertised pride as a sign that the owners of a place at least care a little more than the average place.
When the item in question is Hash Browns, however, the matter becomes infinitely more serious. Many of you are familiar with my work with the Hash Brown Institute in attempting to take back the name "Hash Browns" from pretenders like the potato chunks you see at many Chicago spots, or worse yet the ovoid potato-based discs sold by major fast food chains. Only potatoes which have been shredded into little hash sticks ("Hashified™") and then fried to a crispy exterior (or "permacrust") as a solid patty earn the HBI's seal of approval, and we will shortly (as soon as some pesky court challenges are disposed of, as we fully expect them to be) launch a nationwide, multimillion dollar ad campaign touting only true Hash Browns as "Hash Browns," and suggesting that the chunks should be known as "Breakfast Tuber Lumps" and the ovoid discs as "Saddam Fries."
Anyway, some time back another LTH poster pointed me to the fact that a restaurant called Clara & James, at the corner of Belmont, California and Elston, advertised "The Best Hash Browns in Town." At long last, this morning I went to judge their claim-- in a purely unofficial capacity, I should add.
Clara & James is a classic working class joint offering dirt-cheap breakfast specials, a long counter dotted with ashtrays, an assortment of food-stained copies of this morning's Sun-Times, and equally food-stained grandmotherly waitresses in their 50s and 60s who are nevertheless liberally tattooed and foulmouthed. All that seemed promising, certainly, as did a large handwritten sign promising biscuits and gravy. I ordered that plus a side of Hash Browns.
The B&G, visible (barely) at right, were okay. Biscuits were a bit on the styrofoamy side, somewhere between a biscuit and a buff pad; the gravy had a good peppery flavor but little sign of sausage or sausage grease flavor. (I expect at a price point like this for it to be low on actual chunks of sausage, but there should be a little more sausage flavor.) Given the lack of not only great B&G in this town, but even pretty good B&G, these were about what I expected, and tolerable enough.
But the Hash Browns, man! Tell us about the Hash Browns! They were freshly cut, the right texture, and they had a nice golden permacrust, I personally like them a little more well-done but this was an entirely respectable product from that point of view. However, they were about four times greasier than they ought to be, with a slightly winey flavor that suggested the grease was not, perhaps, the freshest it could have been, either. Fried at a hot enough temperature, Hash Browns shouldn't come off as very greasy at all, but these left a yellow stain as I scooted them around on their plate.
So, I give Clara and James (who appear to be Japanese-American, by the way, though their grandmas-with-sailor-mouths waitstaff is pure red-state American) credit for following the form advocated by the HBI, and if you're looking for a plate full of dirtcheap breakfast carbs, this is not at all a bad place. But "Best Hash Browns in Town?" The quest continues....
Clara & James
3159 W. Belmont
773-539-3020