Mo's A Place For Steaks: An Evening with Chef Ken Arnone

Maybe some day I'll stop being surprised when we're invited to special events, because, ahem, we have a semi-credible website. Maybe someday I'll become jaded with local and undeserved fame, blinded by half-lit rustbelt stars in my eyes, complacent in my cockneyed celebrity. But, that day, thankfully, has not come, and I still blush a little when those e-mails arrive in my inbox, beckoning me to some of Milwaukee's finest eateries.

The staff of Eating Milwaukee was recently invited to a special dinner at Mo's, a Place For Steaks, celebrating Certified Master Chef Ken Arnone. Because it says so in my contract with the Association for Certified Chef's Certification Certificates Corporation, here's a few facts about Certified Global Master Chef Ken Arnone:

• Chef Arnone became a Certified Master Chef in 2003, one of only 65 in the country.
• Chef Arnone served as CHef Professor at the Culinary Institute of America from 1999-2005
• Became a Global Master Chef in 2008
• Worked for the CIA at Ristorante Caterina de Medici.
• Thinks Milwaukee is by far the most fun city on the Western shore of Lake Michigan.

Our invitation allowed us a plus-one, and I thought, since my mom has consistently thought this blog to be a slightly silly venture whose sole purpose is to spend money on domain registration and restaurant cheques, I would bring her to help show her the fabulous, glamorous side of being a restaurant blogger. 

Look! There's the joyful staff of Eating Milwaukee, and my mom, faking a smile for what I promised would be the first and last picture I'd take of her that night. 

Because Mo's invited us to this shindig, I'll gladly share with you all of the tasty details, and the tasty pics, but I'm going to abstain on our usual "report card" section, as I believe that's the slightly stand-up thing to do in this situations.

Mo's is a steakhouse with class and panache, this isn't the Texas Roadhouse, and it most certainly isn't the Ponderosa. 

We started the evening with butlered hors d'oeuvres.

Lobster Ceviche:

Veggie Sushi:

And an Amuse Bouche of the regular menu item, "The Big Shorty," which is bleu crusted braised short ribs with asparagus and horseradish risotto. Mmmm... little spoons of heaven...

Lobster Ceviche! How elegant! How Chic! But the citrus kind of trampled the delicateness of the lobster to death. Still tasty, just... I'm poor, and if I'm going to eat lobster, I want to make sure I can taste every sweet, succulent morsel. Because sweet and succulent lobster costs extra (Eating Milwaukee Staff In-Joke Alert!).

I'm an all-out lunatic when it comes to sushi, so the veggie maki we were treated to were just fine. Nothing too daring, but still well-executed.

The snack-size Big Shorty was fantastic, and was a great way to whet our palettes for the rest of the meal. Imagine, if this little china spoon of food was so incredible, what were the other six (six!) courses going to be like?

Carbs ahoy! 

Well, hold on to your hats, because here comes course number one!

Oh, good golly. It's Nueske's bacon, about two inches thick, and MEATY, braised for something like eight hours, served with a microgreen salad, sweet potato purée, and seared shrimp. Pork Candy is one of those things that should be an automatic invention for a Wisconsin business, and I hope to see it released in time for grilling season next year. Pork Candy. Between Bacchus' pork belly, and Chef Arnone's braised bacon, I'm sold. The bacon literally melted in your mouth, was both meaty and fabulously fatty at the same time, and just wallowed in the sauce made from the braising liquid. Were you the kid that loved the chunk of bacon at the top of the can of Bush's Best Baked Beans? Well, then this will make you pop a few fuses. Why the shrimp? Well, I guess because the bacon needed to stand next to something, to make you realize exactly how kick-butt it really was. 

"Hey, Shrimp."

"Yeah, Bacon?"

"Uh, who has no thumbs, sits around in a low braise for eight hours, and blows you out of the water?"

"Gee, Bacon, I don't know... maybe La Merenda's Osso Buco?"

"THIS GUY, shrimp! Aww, snap! Burned you!"

"Wow, bacon, you really are amazing. If Chuck Norris were a meat, he'd be you..."

Well, that was fun. Stoked yet? Well, cool your jets, 'cause the second course is a salad. I know, I know.

Luckily, this Endive and Radicchio salad had caramelized honey crisp apples, candied pecans, and Montechevré Goat's Milk Brie, just so I didn't feel too emasculated. Because nothing says limp-wristed sally like salad. No, real men eat meat. Meat, meat, meat, meat. There's nothing more manly than meat. 

Heeeeyyy... that's not meat! Well, I guess it is, kinda. No, silly me. It's a tasty delicious blackened salmon filet. Served with tomato basil risotto and a spicy Creole sauce. The third course was not accompanied by a wine selection, but rather a mixed drink, a Ketel One Serrano:

This was absolutely delightful, with the texture of the fish at the perfect and almost nearly unattainable point of delicate flakiness with ideal moisture and tenderness. Wonderful, and if I were a man who came to a place like Mo's looking for awesome salmon, I would be impressed. But as I'm a man who would go to Mo's looking for a steak, I yearned for a bovine banquet to bedeck my bowl. I was getting a little nervous...

Victory is mine!

Here's a thing of beauty: a gorgeous, select cut of Snake River Kobe beef tenderloin, cooked just long enough so the Moo isn't so loud as to drown out the dinner conversation, with simple adornments of wilted spinach, caramelized pearl onions, and almond potato croquettes. Yes folks, from the people who brought you the roasted-corn Kit Kat comes the most delicious beef on the planet. I love the Japanese. 

It should be noted, if you're a stickler for details (and you are, otherwise you'd be reading someone else's blog right now), that Snake River Kobe should, for all legal purposes, be called Snake River Wagyu/ Angus Proprietary Domestic Cross. But I don't think that has as much marketing sheen to it as just calling it Kobe. Either way, actual Kobe beef is prohibitively expensive, and would probably be a bigger let down than the time we tried Dippin' Dots. 

Chef Arnone handles the beef masterfully, and attains such a deep, beefy flavor, it makes even the richest of store-bought steaks seem like pin-the-tail-on-the-cattle. THIS is why you come to Mo's. To have the finest, most exceptionally prepared piece of beast you will ever have the pleasure of cutting with a butter knife. 

Okay, so, everyone with me so far? I probably shouldn't have said the word MEAT so many times and with such vigor, because now it just seems like that's all that's on the table, and I sort of feel like my head is spinning and my plaque is going to start flowing... but on with the meat, shall we?

I'm really, really sorry. This was the "surprise treat" fifth course presented to us by Johnny V and Chef Arnone themselves, and I can't remember for the life of me what cut it was. I don't even think it matters at this point. Did you ever, when you were a kid, ride your bike down a drastic hill, paved perfectly smooth with no bumps or cracks? Remember that feeling as your own inertia took you down the hill, rolling faster and faster, until it felt as though the bike tires were lifting off the road, and you were becoming gracefully and effortlessly airborne? Well, this steak was better than that.

Not to be outdone, a member of the waterfowl family decided to make an appearance, thus marking my first ever encounter with Foie Gras.

Seared and buttery, with the most rich flavor, I can't say the entire experience was unpleasant. I do, however, eat with a conscience, and I can only hope that the fowl whose liver I was consuming wasn't force-fed through gavage in an inhumane manner. Any folks out there who want to are free to Google foie gras and research the process themselves -- I'm not going to start a flame war by linking to anything.

I was ready to pass out, Andy was draped across the piano singing showtunes and doing his best Isabella Rossellini impression, Lauren was rambling about the Squeesophone again, and my mom was chatting with the energetic little waiter who kept inexplicably refilling her wine glass, when Chef Arnone wheeled out the portable butane ranges...

Along with that came about ten pounds of butter

Another six pounds of brown sugar

And all of the strawberries in the Western Hemisphere. Yes folks, it was time for the sixth and final course, Strawberries Foster, with Mo's Signature chocolate cake.

Of course half the fun of a Foster dessert is the flambé, and this was no exception:

The finished dish: a wedge of decadent rich chocolate cake a scoop of vanilla bean ice cream, and hot strawberries, brown sugar, butter, and rum all over the top. Holy mackerel. 

Here's a run down of exactly everything we had, for those of you with limited short-term memory faculties:

First Course

Fennel Spiced Shrimp and 8 Hour Braised Nueske's Bacon

Sweet Potato Purée

Paired with Far Niente Chardonnay, Napa Valley 2008

Artesa Chardonnay, Carneros 2009

Second Course

Endive & Radicchio Salad

Caramelized Honey Crisp Apples, Candied Pecans, Cider Vinaigrette and Motechevré Goat's Milk Brie

Third Course

Blackened Salmon

Tomato Basil Risotto and Spicy Creole Sauce

Paired with Ketel One Serrano

Ketel One Vodka, Limoncello, Campari, Orange Juice

Fourth Course

Snake River Kobe Tenderloin

Caramelized Pearl Onions, Wilted Spinach and Almond Croquette

Paired with Rubicon Estate "Cask" Rutherford Cabernet Sauvignon, Napa Valley 2006

Fifth Course

Select Beef with Seared Foie Gras 

Sixth Course

Strawberries Foster

with Mo's Signature Chocolate Cake

Paired with Taylor Fladgate 20 Year Old Tawny Porto

Epilogue

Dining with the fine folks at Mo's, Chef Arnone, and Johnny V was an absolute dream. No matter what kind of wacky food adventures we find ourselves in, it is a rare treat to sit down to a meal so impeccably executed, so complete in every detail, and so doggone delicious. Despite my rambling and playful prose here, we were truly honored to be included on the guest list, and how fortune everyone is that we play host to such an establishment in our own backyard!

We would also like to share our deepest gratitude with Andrew Stockel, Operating Partner at Mo's, who invited us to this edible extravaganza. 

We have an old saying in our family when someone treats us to a meal the likes of which Chef Arnone was responsible for, 

"Bed's going to feel good tonight..."

What a meal!

Speed Queen: Milwaukee's Own BBQ Royalty

I actually wasn't sure exactly how to approach a review for Speed Queen, as the restaurant has both a fervently devoted following, but also a sort of legendary position in the city: it is a bridge, an icon of soul food; but with a sort of percarious position with some of the city's residents.

Last week, in an effort to not get heat stroke, I had cloistered myself in my Spancrete tomb in Little Serbia, watching old episodes of This American Life on my Roku, when a story really caught my attention. Act Three was about a hot dog stand in Chicago, in the relatively fashionable Lincoln Park neighborhood. The Weiner Circle, which sounds more like a Falcon film than a restaurant, has developed a reputation among patrons for its no-holds-barred attitude after dark, with trash-talking counter clerks and insult (and sometimes hot dog) throwing customers.

This concept isn't exactly new, as Milwaukeeans may recall Ed Debevic's downtown: of course, this was an offshoot of the original location in Chicago. Debevic's was a 50's style retro-dining experience, complete with all the chrome and formica you could ever imagine. Wait staff wore costumes straight out of Hairspray, threw straws at you, hollered if you asked for a glass of water, and danced to stock 50's hits every half hour. With all of the abuse came a wink and a nod, as the customers and the staff were sort of in on a joke: it was like dinner theater. Sure, you might get the stink eye from the guy with the horn rimmed glasses, but his name wasn't really Eugene in real life. Everyone played their parts, had their fun for a few hours, and went home to relatively normal lives.

The Weiner Circle isn't like that. The staff doesn't wear costumes, doesn't assume character names, and doesn't dance to 50's music: you're more likely to hear Lil Wayne or T.I. than Buddy Holly or the Shirelles. The affluent, almost exclusively white customers frequent the restaurant late night, usually in between or after spending some quality time examining the bottom of shot glasses. They're in their 20's or 30's, drunk, mostly male, and mostly obnoxious. They spit epithets at the staff, sometimes overtly racist or sexist, and the staff responds in kind. They'll shout for a "chocolate shake," which isn't an item on the menu. The women behind the counter know that's a cue to start bouncing in time, allowing even more slurs and block-headedness from the customers depending on how much of a tip they slam down on the counter. The owners view this as a sort of ramped-up version of Debevic's, my stomach just turns listening to it. All of the things that these boys feel, all of the pent-up thoughts and prejudices, the hate and the misconceptions all start flowing like the cheap booze they consumed earlier in the evening, because someone fired the first round years and years ago, and ever since then, late-nights are fair game.

It would seem this is an opportunity for these customers to make a "safe" trip to the inner city: it's slumming it without the actual risk of a rough neighborhood. It's nauseating.

I mention this because some people treat Speed Queen in a similar fashion: an opportunity to "slum it," but without the verbal abuse or racist undercurrents. I really resent this view: Speed Queen isn't located in Fox Point or Franklin, but it's not in Cabrini-Green, either. The staff at Speed Queen is friendly and accommodating, and while there may be the occaisonal panhandler, the parking lot at Speed Queen is no more interesting than your average East Side George Webb's. For some people in the Milwaukee area, Speed Queen, and the people who love it, might seem foreign. I, however, am one of the people who love it, and can't imagine it as a trip to the other side of the tracks: it's simply part of the fabric of my city, no different than any of the other long-time fixtures I remember as a child. I'm proud of that.

Speed Queen is located at the corner of 12th and Walnut, easily accessed via 43 N, and has an vast parking lot. The majority of Speed Queen's business is takeout, so the parking comes in handy: despite the large amount of traffic, you should never find yourself short of a spot. There is also a drive through, which is fine and dandy, but provided the lobby is open, I always like to order my dinner face-to-face. The menu is straightforward but a bit cryptic to the 'cue virgin. You have your choice of meat dinners, combination dinners, or half-and-half dinners. Meat dinners are a single cut of meat, a tiny cup of coleslaw, a couple of slices of white bread, and a cornbread muffin. Combinations (Pick 3) consist of two sides and a meat. Half and Half are two half portions of meat: this is probably the best bet if you want to keep your options open.

"Meats" include (pork) ribs, (pork) rib tips, (pulled pork) shoulder, beef brisket, chicken, turkey, and the ambiguous "outside." What makes "outside" even more interesting is the caveat on the menu: "when available." Well, I'll give it to you straight, because nobody was kind enough to explain it to me: "outside" is exactly what it says: the outside "bark" of the pork shoulder, crunchy, chewy, smoky, and meaty. After smoking for half a day, the "outside" is really the prize part of the shoulder, where the smoke ring is most potent, where fat has basted the meat into oblivion. You'll notice on the menu that Outside is more expensive than regular pork shoulder: there's a reason. It's worth it.

Sides consist of what I guess would be the essential soul food accompaniments: fries, yams, black-eyed peas, greens, Mac & Cheese, red beans and rice, spaghetti, baked beans, cole slaw, and potato salad, among others. These are available in an absurd number of sizes, from 2 oz to a full pan, however, some items are not available in some sizes. For instance, fries do not come in a 2 oz or 4 oz size, but do come in an 8 oz size, but not a pint, but they do come in a pan... let the brain melt begin.

The interior of Speed Queen is spartan: the menu board, a counter to place your order, a counter to pick it up, and a few orange plastic booths:

You can always call ahead with your order, as well, but being as anal retentive that I am, I don't think it hurts to order in person. Besides, a little wait in the lobby gives you some opportunity for conversation. 

And yes, it is a little disconcerting that the counter clerks are behind two inches of Lucite. And yes, it is a cash-only affair. Get over it. Plenty of places are cash only, and plenty of places have projectile-resistant glass. This really isn't news.

One thing I found myself a little dumbfounded about was the lack of space in the dining room, especially considering the size of the building, which is actually quite huge. What, exactly, is taking up all the space? The pit, of course. Most of Speed Queen is the kitchen and the pit, which was spewing a cloud of grayish smoke as we left, making my stomach growl even louder:

We ordered almost everything we could think of, included two pints of Mac & Cheese:

Two pints of Red Beans and Rice:

And some yams:

Andy and Jim ordered a Half & Half with Ribs and Outside:

Lauren ordered a Half & Half with Tips and Shoulder:

Marcia ordered straight Ribs:

and I ordered Half & Half Tips and Outside:

And, since I thought the preponderance of porcine products was partisan (PORK!), we ordered a beef brisket sandwich to share, as well:

Our dinners included the obligatory white bread, as well as cornbread muffins. And this, dear readers, is where the story momentarily takes a turn for the worst. 

Andy had warned me that when we got our food, it was in our best interest to inspect that everything we ordered be in the bags. We saw five boxes (five dinners), all of our sides, and a bag we imagined to be the beef sandwich. 

Of course, by the time we had made the trip from Speed Queen back to the Eating Milwaukee Impromptu Dining Hall, had our food unpacked and our appetites strung out like a truck stop hooker, we discovered that either Jim or Andy's dinner was missing. It was the sort of feeling one gets when one trusts a tele-marketer that they really and truly have an important message for you. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. Andy and I drove back to Speed Queen, after calling them, to pick up our purloined provisions. 

 I would have looked for some sort of admission of guilt, other than offering to toss out the meal they had forgotten to place in our bag and replacing it with a fresh one. I used to have to comp entire meals at a restaurant I waited tables at because the kitchen took ten minutes too long... and that was when the guests were eating in! I'm not a schmuck, and I don't like exploiting other people's mistakes, but having to have a customer drive back to the restaurant, regardless of distance, because of a mistake made by the staff is, plainly put, unacceptable. Never should a business feel it is in such a comfortable position as to alienate any of its customers: treat every customer like they're your most important. No matter how good your product is, it is ultimately your service that will make or break you. This is too easy to forget, and too essential to let slide.

We finally got our dinner in its entirety, and set about to consume this massive feast:

The Mac & Cheese was delightful, if not a little gritty from the roux used to thicken the cheese sauce. It was cheesy, well seasoned, and had a nice kick of cayenne that I love so much about soul food. While not the sort of dish I think I could eat an entire meal of, it was a nice, cheesy compliment to the sweet, tangy barbecue.

The Red Beans and Rice were tasty, but lacked a certain kind of punch I guess I adore from the dish. I look for a deep, smokiness from pork hocks or Andouille sausage, and ours was well seasoned, it just lacked a certain depth of flavor that I've come to expect.

The yams were a complete shock for me. Richly spiced, sweet, buttery, sugary, and salty all at the same time: and not a mini marshmallow to be found. I have a new favorite side dish. 

Our cornbread muffins had the texture of what I'd imagine freeze dried pears to be: light, airy, dry and gritty. The cornbread flavor was there, all right, but they were completely devoid of any moisture, and I resorted to slathering them in butter, which is, of course, not a bad thing. Warmed and with butter they were edible, but certainly not a high point. 

The 'cue, however, was a different story entirely.

My tips were fantastic. Despite having to maneuver around the bone tips, the meat was tender, incredibly smoky, well-sauced, and even crispy in places. I rarely had a piece of pork that was the least bit fatty or laden with connective tissue. They were surprisingly meaty, and really a nice alternative to stand-alone ribs.

The beef brisket was a resounding success as well. Lightly smoked, but intensely "beefy," with the day-glo orange-red sauce slathered over top, this was quite possibly the biggest surprise of the meal. While a little dry, and just a bit tough, the texture was a nice match for the thick, sweet sauce and spongy white bread lurking beneath.

And then I tasted the Outside.

The best way I can describe it is by asking you to watch this short video:

It will be different for you than it was for me. I relished the chewiness, becoming ecstatic when my canines sunk into tender meat, and nearly intoxicated when I hit crunchy, crispy pieces which were smoked and basted into submission. This is what I want my barbecue to be.

While the sauce definitely had some bite to it, the Outside actually seemed spicier on its own... was it a rub? Or the intense smoke flavor? All of the above? It really doesn't matter, because the Outside is quite obviously some of the best Speed Queen has to offer, and I would have no qualms about making the trip again exclusively for it.

The sauce itself is sort of a quagmire: sweet, tangy, with a spice that kept making me think of Chinese Five-Spice. I've heard some people describe it as Sweet & Sour sauce, and some say that it combined with the ribs tastes like Char Siu. I'm not sure I'd go that far, but it certainly isn't the thick, murky, molasses-colored stuff we're used to from the condiment isle at Sendik's. Bright, clean, and complimentary: I didn't taste the sauce on the meat as much as the meat plus the sauce, which I think is how it should be.

I think part of my initial disdain for the folks that look at Speed Queen like a Anthropology exhibit at the Field Museum comes from my own fear of appropriating Black culture: with everything mainstream white society has assimilated in the past two centuries, I didn't want to be seen as some sort of interested but uninvolved bystander, the role some of my fellow citizens seem to favor these days (just read some of the scornful comments on NewsWatch items on JSOnline). I don't want to be a tacky tourist, I just love good barbecue. When you allow yourself to reach that conclusion, and understand that barbecue doesn't belong to just one race, or one creed, one social or economic group, you can actually enjoy it. Food is an awesome equalizer in this way: everyone, no matter Black or White, Asian, Hispanic, or man or woman, straight or gay, or anything in between, loves good food.

So, let's drop the pretense here, Milwaukee. Go eat at Speed Queen. Get yourself some Outside, and enjoy the hell out of it. Just make sure you check your order thoroughly  before you leave for home, and don't say I didn't warn you...

Report Card:

Atmosphere: C

Speed Queen is not going to win any design awards. The lobby, counter, and dining area are all utilitarian, no frills.  There is really nothing about the dining room that would compel you to stay there and eat, which I think might explain the large amount of take-out business they do. 

Prices: B+

The portion-to-price ration is above average, and the quality is outstanding. I wouldn't call Speed Queen a value, but it certainly doesn't break the bank. Our entire bill, including five dinners, four pint sides, one small side, and a sandwich came to about $80. 

Service: D

Sorry guys, but forgetting items in the order on two separate visits shows there's some opportunity for growth in the kitchen. Everyone was nice enough, but the customer shouldn't have to double-check to make sure their own order is complete. 

The Food: B

Some bright shining amazing spots (Outside), some tasty surprises (Beef Brisket, Mac & Cheese, Yams), and some turkeys (the cornbread). Take the good with the bad. It's not called Speed Queen Cornbread, it's Speed Queen Bar-b-q, for Pete's sake. 

The Details:

Speed Queen Bar-B-Q

1130 W. Walnut St. 

Milwaukee, WI 53205

(414) 265-2900

Website with menu and pricing available here.