Czech Plaza Restaurant

7016 Cermak Rd
Berwyn, IL 60402
(708) 795-6555

Perhaps I chose poorly. I have spent time in Eastern Europe. I have had the food. I have eaten well. This was not my experience at Czech Plaza. I must admit that my motives in coming here were not pure. I was on the hunt for the next Paulina Porizkova. She was not here. My disappointment grew from this point.

I brought my friend to Berwyn the day after he got cooties from a Cocktail stripper. Neither one of us had had Czech food before, nor had we ever been to Berwyn, so we thought this would be the perfect place to catch up, have an adventure and try some ethnic food. Granted, I can miss the side of a barn when I am zoning out and driving, but I didn't see this place. It's right on Cermak/22, but unless you are studying for the numbers, you'll pass it by. It's an unassuming building, which is fine. I am not here for the party. I am here for the food.

Our really nice waitress greeted my friend and me and I was charmed by her genuine friendliness. We were the only two brown folks in the place and were the youngest by a good forty years - we stood out. Nevertheless, we were greeted and treated with nothing but courtesy. My friend ordered water and I got a big, honkin' Czech beer served in a gigantic glass. Things are looking good. Now, I had done my homework. I knew that I could get a copious amount of food for little cash. I was ready to order. I ordered...and the waitress was not feeling it. My friend had shamed me by ordering something off the superspecial™ menu. My fried porkchops were not going to cut it. I relented and ordered the 1/4 duck and pork chop with cabbage and dumplings and liver dumpling soup.

The food. There was a lot of it. But it didn't taste particularly good. In fact, it didn't taste much like anything. The soup was a broth with a GIANT liver meatball in the middle of it. Yes, I ordered a liver dumpling soup. I was ready for liver. But this? This was LLLIIIVVVEERRR. I thought happy thoughts as I carved (yep) into it. I remembered why I hadn't had liver & onions since I was a boy. It wasn't a bad taste. It was the mental game of what I was eating. They should have called it "brown candy." No problems eating that. My entree was equally laborious. The duck and pork were both boiled to brown greyness. It made me sad to look at. My dumplings were heavy and plentiful. I was hoping for light, pierogi-like fare. Nah. These were DENSE. The potato that bore these babies must have been a good fifty feet and fifty pounds. My cabbage (and I like cabbage) was awash in a thick, sweet sauce. I didn't care for it. I like my cabbage dry and crisp. Broken of spirit and out of breath from attempting to eat my meal, I perked up at the idea of dessert. Mmm, I like dessert. Not this one. I got the apple strudel. I was cold...and tasteless. Disappointing.

Again, nothing tasted bad, per se, but nothing was really good. It was culinary muzak - heavy, drab and a little depressing muzak. Hmm, maybe not muzak. Maybe it was more like a dirge. Ah man, I am sounding so mean. And I don't mean to be...but this meal was exhausting in a bad way. My food baby came by way of Rosemary. If this is indicative of Czech food, I fear that my time in Prague will be spent at Burger King.

Smoque BBQ

3800 N Pulaski Rd
Chicago, IL 60641
(773) 545-7427

Smokin'!! Sorry, I had to say it. This place was oh-so-good!!

I came here for lunch because I'd read that the restaurant routinely runs out of food and if I am going to travel all the way to Irving Park for food and I can't get any...well, John William (like Wayne Brady) will have to choke a bitch. And I am trying to cut down on my assaults and batteries for the year. Trying.

So, I was armed with the address and I made my way down Pulaski from the Blue Line. It was bright, I had my sunglasses on, I was strutting, saw the address, opened the door, walked in...and it was a dentists office. I tried to play cool. I told the receptionists that I was "meeting a friend." Then I had a pretend conversation on my cell phone with my 'friend' saying that "I was at the office and she could pick me up now..what was that...oh, if you are running late, that is fine. I'll walk around. I feel a little awkward waiting at this office anyway..." And I left. I am sure the receptionists were laughing at me.

Walking next door (and trying to reclaim some cool), I finally entered Smoque. There were a decent amount of people sitting but still some empty tables. I sauntered up to the register, ordered a pulled pork sandwich with slaw and fries and a soda. With tax (hi, Todd Stroger!), that was $10.14. Not bad. I went to the soda fountain, drew some SWEET TEA (the only non-alcoholic beverage to drink with bbq) and sat my happy self down. Then I remembered I'd been on the CTA and I washed my hands in the restroom. And used some towelettes.

In the midst of my hand-cleaning OCD, my order number was called! Immediately, I was impressed by the portion size. The sandwich is served on a thick wheat bun and there's a more-than-generous amount of pork and sauce awaiting your lips. Add to that a BROWN PAPER BAG full of fries, container of extra sauce and tub of slaw (with vinegar, not mayo; I hate mayo) and I was ready to dig in. Remembering my Southern upbringing, I took a bite of my sandwich without adding sauce. Yum! Tender, seasoned pork and just the right amount of sauce made for a flavor explosion in my mouth. Remembering my gluttonous ways, I dumped the rest of the sauce on the sandwich and sopped up any extra that ran off with the bread. That's how we get down in the dirty dirty.

I assume that I was eating like Homer Simpson because I caught some looks of horror as I gulped down sweet tea, made smacking noises as I ate my sandwich and stuffed fries in my mouth. I didn't care. There were free refills to take advantage of and food in front of me to eat. The looks are deceiving re the portion size. The folks at Smoque do not skimp on portion size. I'm a big eater and I was barely able to clean my plate. I was happy that I didn't order the cobbler, as I would not have been able to eat it.

Since I was in a trance-like state as I gorged, I noticed a few things on the sparsely covered wall. 1.) a crayon drawing done by a child, complete with the word "Texes." It took every bit of my self-control to not turn the "e" into an "a." I am still thinking about it. 2.) I couldn't stop giggling at one of the plaques. It was the EAT OUT AWARD for BEST BUTT. Hee. Dirty, but oh-so-humorous to my 12 year old mind, it made me laugh and laugh.

One last free refill (and giggle at the best butt to, well, you know) and I was on my way home. I barely made it back to my place before I passed out from a full belly. And, ladies & gents, that's good eatin'.