I like pub food. I am usually a healthy eater, but there’s
nothing wrong with some periodic pub grub. I don’t always feel like calculating
how many calories I’ve ingested or how many Omega-3s per gram are in my
sandwich. Maybe I just want to basket of thick-cut and seasoned wedge fries, to
go Jackson Pollack with the condiments, and let my taste buds swim in a sea of
Sriracha, ketchup, mustard, and starchy bliss.
Don’t you
judge me. You’re likely thinking about cleaning the
bones of some sweet hot wings and licking your fingers clean. This was my
mindset after about 3 hours of capoeira on Saturday. I yearned to counter all
that shirt-drenching cardio and series of inversions with some wings and fries
and beer. It takes some serious effort to maintain my “was-probably-a-body-builder-but-let-himself-go-but-still-does-pushups-every-other-day-and-thinks-that-helps”
physique.
The perfect
place in town for pub food after my workout is Toasted Bear Tavern in the South
Wedge, on the corner of Gregory Street and South Avenue. I’d been there only
two times since its transition from Beale Street Café, but noted that it had a
similar aura as the previous establishment. The clientele was still a decent
mix of in-town regulars and expatriate college or grad students, enjoying pool
or darts or just hanging out, and Purple Haze is still on tap.
I was beset
with a sense of nostalgia when sitting down at a table at Toasted Bear. Some of
the tables still have the “Beale Street” logo plastered on them under a
centimeter of resin. No shade, to them, though. That stuff is hard to get off,
and it’s more environmentally-friendly to not sand down and re-lacquer a room
full of otherwise perfectly good tables.
I craved
greasy pub fare the first time I visited Toasted Bear Tavern back then, too. Expecting
a small menu I planned on getting wings and fries, but my plans were thwarted
by the robust menu. There were appetizers and sides and flatbread pizzas and
burgers and six different styles of wings. They even offered soups and salads,
and not just lettuce, tomato, and onion salads drowned in ranch, either. Also,
since it was Friday, they offered a fish fry, which I ordered.
The chef at
the time came out and asked, “How would you like a broiled cod instead?” I was
up for it, and he brought out a huge filet of light, flaky cod in a light white
wine sauce and a side of roasted vegetables. Unless I’m in a British pub, I
expect my fish fry to be a big slab of hurried, battered rubber with a side of
lightly-fried bland potatoes. Toasted Bear gave me a gourmet meal. So much for
greasy wings and fries that time. This time would be different.
This time
was not different. I had every intention of ordering wings and fries, and I did
get the pub fries. They are everything I want in a pub fry: huge wedges,
lightly seasoned, and the perfect ketchup-Sriracha-malt vinegar mouth delivery
mechanism.
The menu is
still varied, with one major difference: There is a “Kitchen Verde” section.
Toasted Bear Tavern co-owner Jesse Esan worked with the meal-delivery service
Kitchen Verde to provide vegan choices for pub customers. Kitchen Verde owner
Sarah Goodenough created the recipes for the menu items herself. Now you can
order roasted eggplant meatballs, Buffalo Chick’n mac & cheese, Chick’n wings,
or chili-sans-carne ($12 for each item on the vegan menu).
Andrew
Alvarado — the bartender who took my order — told me that Goodenough rotates
the recipes periodically, and that this week’s chili-sans-carne is a quinoa and
white bean chili with a side of corn bread. This all sounded delicious, but I
had already had those fries, and I was determined to get some nice hot wings.
There is no way I would be deterred!
I was
deterred. I ordered the chili-sans-carne. Delicious as it was, it could have
used a little bit more spice. But take that criticism with a grain of salt; I
inhale habanero sauce like it’s oxygen, and I consider
Sriracha to be as mild as ketchup. My colleagues stuck to their guns and had
burgers and sandwiches. They said that the Toasted Bear Burger ($14) is thick
and juicy, and well worth its price, and the Mediterranean chicken Sandwich
($11) is bold in flavor and still tender.
One day, I
will go to Toasted bear and try the wings. I will devour 10 of them in minutes.
I will dip my fries in the remaining wing sauce, and I wash it down with a
Purple Haze, and my craving for pub fare will be satisfied. That time will be
the next time I go to Toasted bear. I promise this.
UPDATE: I
got the eggplant meatballs.
This article appears in Apr 17-23, 2019.
