Showing posts with label Macaroni and Cheese. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Macaroni and Cheese. Show all posts

Wednesday, March 19, 2014

The Guinness Float: San Francisco’s Best Idea Ever







St. Francis Fountain
2801 24th St.
San Francisco, CA




This innovative city on the cutting edge that first introduced the world to taxpayer funded sex changes and “needle exchange programs” is now considering handing out free crack pipes to its drug addicted welfare dependents.

Since, in the minds of Left Coast leftists, shooting heroine and smoking crack are not character flaws but rather agnostic lifestyle choices, you and I have an obligation to pay for our neighbors’ vices.

But they will ship you off to San Quinten if you so much as light up a cigarette or utter a disparaging word about Ellen DeGeneres.

The day California slides into the Pacific Ocean can’t come soon enough for me.

But even I have to admit these liberal creative types can concoct a good idea every once in a while.

Like the Guinness float. Served here at the venerable St. Francis Fountain in the Mission District of San Francisco.

Holy guacamole! Where has this idea been my entire life?

I’ve always likened Guinness to drinking alcoholic chocolate milk.

Since Guinness is nitrogenated rather than carbonated, the Irish beverage of choice lends a silky, creamy mouthfeel that goes down as smooth as milk.

The roasted dark malt and low alcohol content lends a touch of sweetness.

So pouring a freshly opened nitrogenated can of Guinness over some homemade vanilla ice cream might just be the best idea Californians have come up with since they decided to recall Governor Gray Davis.

Witnessing the chemical reaction as the nitrogen interacted with the ice cream was more entertaining than a Tenderloin District sex show.

A swirl of twirling ice cream, frothing black liquid, hissing nitrogen and foaming tan head tantalized my senses.

Impatiently I waited for the show to settle before dipping my straw into the cauldron.

The first few gulps yielded a bracing alcohol kick. Like the kind of jolt you get when your mind is expecting one thing -- but gets something very different.

I think my eyes were fully expecting the sweetness of a milk shake but my taste buds got a beer instead.

The bitterness of the beer flavored ice cream morphed as it melted into ice cream flavored beer.

I thoroughly enjoyed the transformation from bitter ice cream to sweet creamy beer.

With a buzz.

There’s not much alcohol in a 14 ounce can of Guinness, but my brain was so mixed up I think the confusion heightened the buzz.

Of course slurping all that deliciousness through a thick straw in six minutes flat might have been a contributing factor also.

Fortunately, St. Francis Fountain offers real sustenance in addition to ice cream and Guinness floats.

I definitely needed it considering my beverage/dessert of choice.

The Baltimore BLT offered a Left Coast twist on the lunch counter standby -- fresh avocado squeezed between the thick bacon and lettuce and tomato.

The avocado quickly morphed into a messy slippery guacamole condiment after a few bites.

I have absolutely no clue why a BLT with avocado served in San Francisco would be named after a city in Maryland.

The homemade macaroni and cheese on the side was much more interesting. Big goops of gooey cheese were sweetened by onion.

This stuff puts mom’s Kraft-from-the-box mac and cheese to shame.

Sorry mom.

Good simple comfort food is what you would expect -- and what you get -- at this nearly century old neighborhood sofa fountain where local Mission District hipsters wander in for a taste of home or of nostalgia -- or of reality -- something in desperately short supply in this city.

They don’t sell clean needles or crack pipes at St. Francis Fountain. But they do sell the collector’s cards of your childhood by the front door.

A pack of “Close Encounters of the Third Kind” cards, anyone?

How about some of those rare “Welcome Back, Kotter” cards?

St. Francis Fountain is all the pleasures of childhood in one tiny shop.

Plus Guinness floats.

Sometimes you have to grow up to discover the best pleasures of all.

Rating: Seriously Thought About Buying Shirt
St. Francis Fountain on Urbanspoon


Wednesday, October 16, 2013

Too Much is Never Enough at Maple Street Biscuit Company







Maple Street Biscuit Company
2004 San Marco Blvd.
Jacksonville, FL





You ever meet one of those stick-in-the-mud type people who complain, “Oh, that’s too much for me?”

Yeah. Me neither.

I don’t hang out with people like that.

For me, there’s no such thing as too much of a good thing.

Lots of people who agree with me crowd into Maple Street Biscuit Company every day for ludicrous gastronomical combinations of good food.

The vibe at Maple Street Biscuit Company is one of a place trying to keep things upbeat and fun.

Aforementioned stick-in-the-muds need not apply.

Instead of giving you a number to remember when you place your order, the perky girls at the order counter ask you a question.

Every customer gets the same question -- but the question changes every day.

Today it was “What is your favorite game?”

Apparently I just looked at her blankly.

“Huh? Game?”

“You know, video game, computer game, card game,” my order taker explained cheerfully.
Um, Suit757 doesn’t have time for games.

“Okay, well, what was the last game you remember playing?”

Followed by a perky, patient head tilt.

Uhhhh. Monopoly? During the Carter Administration, maybe?

“Great! When we call Monopoly, come get your order!”

More perky smiling.

Look, you better be in a good mood when you come in here. Because a meal at Maple Street Biscuit Company is like a trip to Disney World for your taste buds and arteries.

Everything here is cheerfully over-the-top.

Such as my “Five and Dime”, a teetering tower of heart-clogging comfort food.

As the name on the door implies, the specialty at Maple Street Biscuit Company is…

…well…

…biscuits.

And I’m sure Maple Street Biscuit Company makes fantastic biscuits…

…it’s just kinda hard to tell for sure with all that other goodness piled on top on my Five and Dime Biscuit.

Fried chicken.

Melted cheese.

Pecan smoked bacon.

A drippy over-easy egg.

Whew!

All topped off with a healthy ladling of sausage gravy!

Holy quadruple bypass, Batman, this just might be the single most over-the-top concoction to ever slide by my taste buds!

If you are disgusted, well…

…why exactly are you even reading this website?

If you are thinking, “Well, Suit757, does the Five and Dime taste as good as it sounds?”…

…the answer is a resounding YES!

What might be a tad over-whelming in the hands of mere mortals turns into delicious at Maple Street Biscuit Company because this place takes each and every one of the components of its culinary creations seriously.

Fluffy but firm biscuits, all-natural fried chicken, organic eggs, gourmet thick-cut bacon, quality real cheese.

All smothered with an off-the-hook sausage gravy.

Some sausage gravies served at those little chain joints along Southern interstate exit ramps camouflage the bits of sausage in a bland cream gravy.

There’s nothing subtle about the sausage in Maple Street’s sausage gravy.

This place doesn’t do subtle.

Generous chunks of zesty sausage make their presence known in every delicious forkful of creamy gravy.

And with a nice hint of spicy kick, this sausage gravy perfectly complements the smoky flavor of the bacon and the earthy warmth of the scratch-made biscuit.

Likewise, the runny egg lends a nice textural contrast to its crispy fried chicken kissin’ cousin.

Needless to say, this isn’t a Hardee’s biscuit sandwich you could eat one handed driving down I-95.
Even with a knife and a fork, there is no conceivable way to get even a small sampling of all the various components onto one forkful. Thus every bite offers a new and different thrill ride for the taste buds.

Most folks who come here don’t have much room for the side dishes.

Most folks are missing out.

And Suit757 definitely isn’t most folks.

The macaroni and cheese is a crock of melty cheesy goodness topped with crumbled Cheese Itz crackers. Like everything else here -- over-the-top good.

The collard greens deserve a spot in the vegetable Hall of Fame.
Both sweeter and spicier than any greens that have ever before graced my taste buds, these collards were swimming in a wicked broth of flavor and seasoning.

Biscuits, fried chicken, eggs, cheese, bacon, sausage gravy, collard greens and mac and cheese?

All for one suit’s lunch?

Too much?

Nope. If it’s good, there’s no such thing.

Rating: Bought the Shirt!


Maple Street Biscuit Company on Urbanspoon

Friday, September 20, 2013

Go Ahead and Take the Plunge with these Two Bros




Two Bros. BBQ Market
12656 West Ave.
San Antonio, TX




Smoking brisket is like taking the plunge into marriage.

The choices you make upfront can lead to results that are very good.

Or…

…Very, very bad.

Without the right commitment to quality meat, good rub, ideal hard wood, a top notch smoker and lots and lots of patience and time, you are in for a final product devoid of spice, flavor or tenderness.

It will be nothing but an expensive exercise in wasted effort.

You’ll be looking to sign divorce papers as soon as you bite into a bad brisket that tastes like a dry, tasteless hunk of unchewable roast beef.
Don’t even think about walking down that aisle unless you commit to doing it right.

I’m happy to report that the bros at Two Bros BBQ Market on the north side of San Antonio know exactly how to do brisket right.

Any doubt is dispelled the moment you pull up into the parking lot and notice the smoke billowing up from the smoker out back.

You’ll know you made the right choice as soon as you open the front door and are greeted by the sweet aroma of cow fat being slowly melted by the embers of Texas post oak.

Two Bros is nothing like the scary dilapidated old brisket smoke shacks down around Lockhart like Smitty’s and Black’s.

This place has been around for only four years, an infantile newcomer to the century’s old art of smoking briskets in the Lone Star State.

Rustically located under some old live oak trees -- a few of which grow right up through the middle of the restaurant -- it’s still hard to camouflage the new construction feel of Two Bros BBQ Market.

But what it lacks in old school credentials, Two Bros more than makes up for with its real deal authentic Texas barbeque.

The pit master sliced off a couple thick swaths of brisket and a smoked sausage onto my butcher paper.

Unlike in Lockhart, plastic utensils are available at Two Bros -- but you won’t need them.

The hunks of beef fall apart at the mere touch of your fingers.

The thick dark crunchy bark on the edge of each slice ignites a combustion of salty flavor in every bite.

The soft tender inside of the slice offers a smoky succulent counterbalance to the bark.

Each bite of decadent fatty beef almost melts in your mouth like bovine butter.

Absolutely extraordinary!

It’s like giving a make-over to Kate Upton, but I couldn’t resist the urge to dip a few hunks of brisket into Two Bros warm homemade sauce.

The sauce is completely unnecessary -- yet completely delicious with a nice balance between spicy tang and tomatoey sweetness.

The sausage approached heights of perfection as well.

Taught and smoky, each bite offered a nice snap of greasy meaty flavor.

Well done, bros, well done.

Even the sides were top notch.

The mac and cheese was thick and goopy the way your grandma made it.

The beans were a kaleidoscope of flavor, balancing the savory goodness of bacon with the sweetness of Texas peaches. You won’t find anything like this in the canned goods aisle of your local grocery.

That’s for sure.

Since it was the middle of a Suit757 workday, a Shiner Bock to wash all this Texas barbeque down just wasn’t an option.

So I went with the Texas BBQ Plan B Beverage -- a can of Big Red -- the syrupy sweet red soda that leaves your tongue stained with artificial coloring for 24 hours.

Big Red is so bad it has never managed to spread much beyond the borders of the Lone Star State.

But as Texas songwriter Robert Earl Keen explained in his song “Barbeque”, “a cold Big Red” is considered obligatory when dining on Texas brisket and sausage.

Like marriage, picking a place in Texas to eat brisket takes something of a leap of faith.

Sure, I did my homework and read about Two Bros awards as one of the top BBQ shacks in Texas, but until you commit to lifting that first bite of beef off your butcher paper you can never really be totally sure what you are going to get.

That’s where Suit757 comes in.

Consider me to be your brisket marriage counselor.

If you in San Antonio -- heck, if you are ever within 100 miles of San Antonio -- do yourself a favor.

Make the commitment. Tie the knot. Take the plunge at Two Bros BBQ Market.

You’ll live happily ever after.

Rating: Bought the Shirt!



Two Bros. BBQ Market on Urbanspoon

Monday, September 24, 2012

The Publick House Won’t Let You Down



The Publick House
1648 Beacon St.
Brookline, MA




In case you haven’t noticed, as Suit757, I get around. I’ve been to some of the coolest bars and restaurants in all 50 states.

So you’re probably wondering, “Suit757, don’t you ever get a bit jaded about all these exciting places to eat and drink?”

And I have to admit, there is a bit of that “been there, done that, bought the shirt” mentality that can seep into my road weary consciousness. (I have an entire closet full of t-shirts.)

But there are still a few places in America I get excited about.

REAL excited.

I’m talking school-girl-at-a-Justin-Bieber-concert excited.

Deprive-myself-for-24-hours-in-advance, pack-a-supervalue-pack-of-BC-Powders and clear-my-schedule-the-following-morning kind of excited.

The Publick House in Boston gets me THAT KIND of excited.

The dark candle-lit Old World ambiance of this place and world class beer selection make it a premiere destination for serious beer drinkers.

Not “I’ll take something that tastes like Blue Moon” beer drinkers.

I’m talking REAL SERIOUS beer drinkers.

The best beers brewed on Planet Earth. Beers you can’t find anywhere else. Poured into appropriate glassware specifically designed for each beer.

Beers like Houblon Chouffe, Piraat and Gulden Draak, my three favorite beers from Belgium – a proud specialty here at The Publick House.

Belgian beer tastes different from beer brewed anywhere else in the world.

Usually well balanced between hops and malt, Belgians typically let the alcohol and yeast shine through with a sweet fruity taste.

The Publick House is so famous for its wide selection of draft Belgian beer, that it really is obligatory to begin with one.

My Houblon Chouffe looked beautiful sparkling in its specially designed glassware in the fading twilight. Crisp and refreshing, but with a powerful 9% alcohol punch, it slid right down.

Despite the “Dobbelen IPA” label on the Houblon Chouffe glass, this Belgian is smoother and less hoppy than its more aggressive American Double IPA brethren. It may claim the IPA label, but Houblon Chouffe is still a Belgian at heart.

As if to test my theory, I moved on to the American microbrew portion of The Publick House beer menu next and ordered a double IPA called “Mongo” brewed by up-and-coming San Diego brewery, Port Brewing.

Now that’s a hoppy kick in the pants!

The Publick House is known for its fresh Belgian beer on draft, but sometimes a bottle-conditioned Belgian can be ever better.

So I opted for a Belgian classic, St. Bernardus Abt 12, a dark but fruity 10.5% alcohol package of liquid heaven.

After three high potency beers, I desperately needed something to line my empty stomach.

While I’m sure the rest of the food on The Publick House’s menu is delicious, I’ll never know. That’s because I always get the famous gourmet mac and cheese made with five types of Belgian cheeses melted into a crock full of orrechetti pasta.

I occasionally wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat dreaming of this dish.

Best of all, you can add meat, seafood or vegetables to your mac and cheese for a truly over-the-top dish of comfort food.

Most folks pick one add-on.

But not Suit757.

Maybe it was the three near double-digit alcohol beers on an empty stomach, but I just couldn’t decide.

Top notch bacon? Andouille sausage? Caramelized onion?

“What the hell. Give me all three!”

My waitress looked a bit stunned as she scribbled my order and tallied all my extra add-ons.

I have to admit, her reaction gave me a bit of buyer’s remorse.

Would it be too much meat? Too greasy? Too over-the-top?

Would it be worth nearly twenty bucks for a modest-sized crock of college student fare?

When she slid my steaming mound of gooey cheese, meat and pasta under my nose, all those apprehensions disappeared into the night.

Worth. Every. Penny.

Holy St. Bernardus!

This was one of the most fantastic dishes that has ever graced my taste buds.

The melty cheese and noodles were luxurious. The bacon added a smoky essence to every bite while the andouille sausage contributed a zesty kick of spice.

Best of all, the caramelized onions balanced everything with a sweetness that elevated this dish to the Comfort Food Hall of Fame.

I knew I needed a special brew to accompany my self-created masterpiece.

Something smoky and sweet and savory, just like my gourmet mac and cheese.

I found my answer deep in the bowels of The Publick House six page beer menu.

Aecht Schlenkerla Rauchbier Urboch.

Translation: Kick-ass German smoked beer!

Yes. The beer is smoked.

Well, the malt in the beer is smoked, more specifically.

If you are a beer connoisseur looking to try something different, you have to try a good German rauchbier like Schlenkerla Urboch.

Like smoked country sausage in bottle, rauchbiers are almost exclusive to the German town of Bamberg – and The Publick House, luckily for me.

My first whiff as I poured this dark beer into my glass instantly brought me back to some long ago Boy Scout camp fire.

Unlike some American smoked beers I’ve experimented with in the past, this real deal German smoked beer doesn’t skimp on the smoke.

It’s like drinking a pack of Marlboros. But in a good way.

And the perfect compliment to my bacon and sausage studded mac and cheese.

At this point in the evening, it was WAY past the point of time to retire to my hotel room.

Then I remembered that I was taking public transportation this evening.

Transporting my drunk ass back to my hotel room is one of the few good uses I can imagine for massive taxpayer subsidized enterprises like Boston’s venerable “T”.

“Hey, this is MY piece of the bailout,” I rationalized to myself as I perused the menu for one good night cap.

Sensing a rapidly approaching law of diminishing returns, I knew I should tone down the exotic flavor and high alcohol for something my altered palate could still appreciate.

So I opted for a classic German pilsner, Kulmbacher Edelherb Premium Pils, served on draft in a traditional glass German stein.

American mass-produced watered down light beers like Miller Lite claim the “pilsner” label, but that’s like referring to SPAM as an ethnic delicacy.

Kulmbacher is what a pilsner REALLY tastes like.

Crisp and dry, with a nice hop kick, it was a perfect ending to one of the greatest beer drinking experiences of my life.

As I stumbled through the Brookline darkness to the Green Line station a block or two away, I had a big sudsy smile on my face.

Despite all the build up, excitement and anticipation, my evening at the world famous Publick House lived up to my heightened expectations.

Exceeded them, in fact.

That’s what makes The Publick House a true “bucket list” destination for serious beer drinkers the world over.

So I’m telling you. If you love beer like I do, get here now. Plan your vacation around it.

Even the most jaded among us won’t be let down.

Rating: Bought the Shirt!




The Publick House on Urbanspoon

Monday, August 27, 2012

Going Downtown to Get My Irish Up



Fionn MacCool’s
2 Independent Drive
Jacksonville, FL




I like going “downtown”.

Every city should have one. A center of gravity. A sense of identity. A place to point to.

Downtown is where the business is done, where the pace is quicker, where the fun is at.

Maybe I read too many Batman comics as a kid. But the idea of exploring the vast side streets and alleyways of Gotham has a romantic appeal to me.

Of course, not every city has a downtown.

The largest city in Virginia, for example, has no downtown.

That’s because Virginia Beach isn’t really a city. It’s just a sprawling suburb of Norfolk, which has a population half the size of Virginia Beach.

Of course that wasn’t good enough for the Virginia Beach city fathers. They didn’t want to preside over a city with no “there” there.

So they spent hundreds of millions of taxpayer dollars to build a fake “downtown”.

I’m sorry. A couple taxpayer financed high rises next to some busy intersection does not a downtown make.

Some cities, like Norfolk, have figured this out. In 60 years Norfolk’s downtown has gone from thriving, to dead, to down right scary, back to happening – if not quite thriving again, thanks in part to simply kicking the bums off the park benches.

Other cities like Knoxville, Greenville and Indianapolis have nice resurrected downtowns too.

Then you have cities like Jacksonville.

Hardly anybody comes to downtown Jacksonville after 6pm unless they want to get mugged or score something illicit.

It’s a barren wasteland of parking lots and empty bank buildings, evacuated by weekday workers at the stroke of quitin’ time.

That means there are very few options for dinner and drinks.

I guess that’s how I ended up at Fionn MacCool's at “The Jacksonville Landing” – the city’s modest taxpayer financed attempt at urban renewal.

“The Landing” is one of those touristy places on the river stocked with places like the obligatory Hooters.

Hey, Suit757 likes Hooters (and hooters) as much as any other red blooded heterosexual male, but I was looking for something different.

The turnover at these types of taxpayer funded “festival marketplaces” tends to be pretty high. And sure enough, Fionn MacCool’s is a fairly recent addition to the Jacksonville skyline.

And they did a nice job with it.

The place has a huge rectangular bar set in the middle of the restaurant with lots of taps. And plenty of obligatory Irish paraphernalia and dark wood accents.

Fionn MacCool’s also sports two outdoor dining areas – one with a small stage for live music (non-Irish, of course) and another lined up along the Jacksonville Riverwalk with a spectacular view.

That view is what baffles me about why Jacksonville’s downtown isn’t more happening.

Sitting outside with the breezes coming off the St. John’s River with boats gliding by, cars rumbling over the lit-up Main Street Bridge and surrounded by Jaguar teal accented bank towers makes you realize the potential of this spot.

Jacksonville certainly LOOKS good.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t take long sitting out by the river before you realize the problem with this town.

Before I enjoyed my first sip of beer, some homeless dude reached over the railing toward my table and asked me for money.

I can’t even patronize a decent establishment downtown without being accosted by some bum?

Forget all the taxpayer subsidies. The city politicians need to solve THAT problem first.

It kind of takes away from the festive atmosphere and the view when you have to fend off hoards of drugged out bums hitting you up for money.

Especially after reading in the local paper that over half the downtown Jacksonville homeless population has contracted tuberculosis – a highly contagious and deadly disease. And that the city had tried to cover it up for a year to avoid panic in the streets.

As it turns out, there’s nothing to panic over. Nobody comes downtown anyway.

I moved back inside to a table by the bar to enjoy my beer in peace.

As a Suit of Irish decent, I always feel obligated while patronizing an Irish bar to at least start the evening off with an Irish beer.

Somehow, I feel like I’m turning my back on my homeland if I don’t.

The problem is that the “Irish Corporate Triumvirate”, as I call it, of Guinness, Harp and Smithwicks can become a bit monotonous.

One thing Suit757 doesn’t tolerate in his beer drinking is monotony.

Well, recently, the London-based (how’s that to get your Irish up?) alcohol conglomerate Diageo has added a fourth beer to its Irish Corporate Triumvirate. (I guess that makes it a quadumvirate?)

Kilkenny is an Irish cream ale that is nitrogenated like Guinness. That means it goes down silky smooth.

Five minutes later my pint glass was empty (how’d that happen?) and I was ready to move on from my Irish obligations and try one of Fionn MacCool’s good selection of local brews.

I’m happy to report that despite its blue collar/Southern Rock birthplace reputation, Jacksonville has not been left behind by the craft beer revolution. Several local breweries have popped up in the last few years here in the land of Lynyrd Skynyrd and Anheuser Busch.

The best of them is Intuition Ale Works, whose flagship People’s Pale Ale is a full-flavored repudiation of all those masses of Florida Bud Light and Yuengling drinkers.

But thanks to Fionn MacCool’s extensive beer selection, I had the option to sample some of Intuition’s more obscure offerings.

Like the light colored, but generously hopped I-10 India Pale Ale. Similar to the People’s Pale Ale, but with just a notch more hoppy flavor.

As a dead pig connoisseur, I couldn’t pass up Fionn MacCool’s sausage rolls as an appetizer. Bite sized chunks of savory sausage wrapped in mini croissants, the sausage rolls were tasty, especially dipped in the accompanying clear-your-sinuses horseradish sauce.

Dining at an Irish pub is always a risky proposition.

Let’s face it, we Irish might be known for our witty way with words and alcohol tolerance. But culinary creativity?

Uh, not so much.

But I rolled the dice on Fionn MacCool’s Irish boxty, a traditional Irish potato pancake stuffed with various meats and vegetables.

Think a potato-based Irish burrito.

As if to authenticate the Irishness of the dish, Fionn MacCool’s includes this little Irish folk rhyme on the menu:

“Boxty on the griddle, Boxty in the pan,
If you can't make a boxty, you’ll never get your man.”

I opted for the Ha’penny Bridge Boxty stuffed with corned beef and buttered cabbage, which sounds like the most traditionally Irish option, until you realize that nobody actually eats corned beef and cabbage in Ireland. That’s strictly an Irish-American creation.

But I don’t care who gets credit for its origins, this was one delicious dish.

It was bursting at the seams with delightfully fork tender corned beef. The cabbage was soft and buttery, perfectly complimented by the accompanying mustard-based cream sauce.

If anyone in Ireland could actually make food taste this good, none of us would have left in the first place.

A salad was supposed to come on the side.

Fortunately, I was able to talk my waitress into substituting a side of Fionn MacCool’s homemade macaroni and cheese.

(Suit757 has never voluntarily eaten a salad. Ever.)

Good call. The mac and cheese came out of the oven piping hot with lots of gooey cheese and even few pieces of Irish bacon thrown in for good measure.

Fionn MacCool’s brags that it is “An Irish Pub that doesn’t skimp on the Irish.”

That might be a bit of an exaggeration.

A true Irish pub would feature real Irish music.

But that’s probably asking too much for the home town of Ronnie Van Zant.

As I paid my tab and headed back out into the streets of downtown Jacksonville, I felt satisfied that I had finally found a decent place to eat and drink down along the St. John’s River.

As I walked under the Main Street Bridge and admired the truly spectacular view of the downtown skyline reflecting on the water, I thought to myself that more people should come down here.

I love downtown – it’s the heart of finance and industry, the center of activity, the hub of the city.

Unfortunately, by the time I got to my car three blocks away, I was accosted two more times by homeless beggars.

That’s how a few hundred people who refuse to join the productive segment of society can destroy the heart and soul of a city.

The political leaders of Jacksonville can pour as much taxpayer money down the drain as they want to on subsidized Hooters, but until they solve THAT problem, nobody else is going to share my enthusiasm for downtown.

Oh well. I guess that just means more Kilkenny and Irish boxties for me.

Rating: Seriously Thought About Buying Shirt.





Fionn MacCool's (Jacksonville Landing) on Urbanspoon