Casablanca: Middle Eastern Meets East Side

It has been a long time coming, this review. We've been saying we wanted to get to Casablanca since before the new year, but as life often does (particularly to the Eating Milwaukee Staff), things took turns we just didn't expect.

And, in the interest of full disclosure, I had met owner Alaa Musa a few months ago, during the course of working one of my Clark-Kent-esque day jobs. I promise, that relationship will not inform the review. At all. Mostly.

We descended on Casablanca for lunch on a Saturday, to sample the mythical "lunch buffet" we had heard so much about. After a few near-misses in East Side traffic, and a few trips around the block thanks to my GPS, I finally got parked in the smallish, but nonetheless convenient parking lot next to the restaurant. This put me in a good mood immediately. An East Side business with a parking lot. It's almost like saying "touching an electric eel with insulating gloves" or "an Illinois driver with good manners." You'd really like it to be the case all the time, but in reality it almost never happens. Ever.

Casablanca's interior is gorgeous, with rich oxblood walls undulating with iridescent red tiles. The lighting is comfortably low,  with big, mullion windows adorned with tasteful treatments. The feel is cozy, chíc, upscale, but never off-putting. Furniture is spartan and clean.

As we sat down, a memory came flooding back to me, something that Lauren had said a few weeks ago when we were preparing for this trip, "...the lunch buffet is vegetarian..." Oh, no, I thought. No meat. No meat! This was going to be ho-hum. I'm going to have to choke everything down with a half-smile, act like I loved every bite, and then promptly stop at Kopps on the way home for a burger. Yes, this was going to be a painful luncheon. I abhor vegetarian cuisine.

It's not that I hate the concept of vegetarianism. I suppose it's noble, if you think giving up steak is noble. I just don't like how most vegetarian food somehow tries to ape its meaty counterparts. Veggie burgers? Whatever. Just call them bean patties. I can respect that. Chicken-less nuggets? Whatever. Call them TVP delights, for all I care. Just call it like it is.

As I got settled and got the Nikon ready for shooting, our bubbly and fun waitress asked us if we wanted a side of meat. I immediately got a pit in my stomach, recalling an incident involving a friend from college trying to order a burrito at Chipotle:

Friend, (We'll call her Carrie to protect her identity): Hi, I'd like a meat burrito.
Chipotle clerk: Okay, what kind of meat?
Carrie: Um, you know... meat?
CC: Um, no, I don't know... meat.
Carrie: Meat. Burrito.
CC: We have pork, beef, chicken, steak, ground beef...
Carrie: That's it! Ground beef! See, I said a meat burrito!
CC: right.

However, if this worked out okay, we wouldn't have to endure a meatless meal. Huzzah! We all decided to order a different "meat," and share our meaty payload when it arrived.

Lauren ordered Chicken Kabob:

Andy had the Lamb Kifta kabob:

And I had the Lamb and Beef Shawarma:

Meanwhile, we ravenously scrambled to the buffet line:

Where we found a small battalion of cold salads:

A variety of hot dishes:

and an array of desserts:

Coming back, my plate looked like a hot mess:

Now, rather than go in to lurid detail about every item on the buffet (which I did try, and caused me great pain as my stomach stretched to inhuman size to accommodate), I think it's best to try to give a sweeping, generalized overview. 'Cause that's what we Americans do best.

Everything we tried was astounding in its own right. Each salad, each hot dish had a flavor all its own, different spicing, different flavor profiles. It was an amazing array: different textures, different colors. Nothing bland, nothing watered down. All the while, I kept sighing in amazement that I was enjoying salads so much.

Some of the standout salads are as follows:

Tahini Salad: Oh, remember, dear reader, when I ranted about the virtues of Tahini during the review for Shahrazad? Well, apparently the Fates heard my cry, because the Tahini Salad at Casablanca is basically everything I love about food, all in one fresh, brilliant dish. Crispy cucumbers, juicy tomatoes, and a bright and creamy tahini dressing that made my eyes roll back in their sockets and my mouth water at the very thought. The dressing was rich, complex, and intriguing, with a depth of flavor that you might not expect from sesame seeds. Awesome.

Cucumber Yogurt Salad: Rich, rich, rich. I immediately thought back to summers, helping my Grandma make her creamed cucumbers. Salting the cucumber and onion slices. Straining the sour cream. Oh, but these cukes weren't anything like Grandma's (who is shaking her fist at me from the great Kitchen In The Sky right now). Insanely creamy and rich, flavorful, but never overpowering. And the cucumbers retained enough crunch so that you didn't forget what they were.

Potato Salad: cold, mashed potatoes, with the flavor of classic American potato salad, except much, much brighter (thank the addition of lemon juice). We couldn't get enough of these!

Tuboleh: a classic, and relatively simple, this bulgar salad is light and refreshing, with its strong notes of mint.

It should be noted as well, that there were large dishes of both Hummus and Babaghannoj with the salads, along with a bottomless basket of fresh pita bread. Both the hummus and babaghannoj were exceptional, with the hummus delicate and nutty, and the babaghannoj strong with the distinct taste of roasted, almost charred eggplant. I ate way more than my fair share.

The hot line was equally impressive, with multiple rice dishes, as well as roasted and stewed veggies. While they were all tasty (and that's not a cop-out statement!), I would have to say I enjoyed the eggplant with potatoes, and carrots with garlic the best. Both incorporated such surprising flavors, the eggplant being succulent and tender, the carrots both sweet and intensely garlicky at the same time. And that's when it occurred to me:

When vegetables are cooked properly, they can (and should) hold their own in a dish. Vegetables can stand up as the star ingredient when treated right.

Which is not to say that our meats weren't delicious, because they certainly were. Lauren's chicken was nearly perfectly cooked, if not a little towards over-done. But delicately spiced, and very much a good match for the veggies on the buffet.

Andy's lamb kabobs were tender and flavorful, while my shawarma was to die for. But no meat held a candle to what was quite possibly my favorite item on the line: the falafel.

Crispy, nutty, hot, fluffy on the inside, perfectly seasoned, and never, ever greasy... I had found a new favorite falafel. I could eat the falafel on its own, as a meal. I could buy them in bulk and bathe in them. I'm considering dumping my old feather pillow and filling one with falafel, just so I can rest my head on it. To hell with my cat, I want a 17-pound ball of falafel instead, put a collar on it and let it sleep on my couch. Yes, the falafel is that good.

Rounding out our meal was a frosty glass of rosewater lemonade, and a few desserts. The obligatory baklava:

A crispy, tender butter cookie:

And a Kanafeh-style dessert:

The baklava was exceptional: buttery without being sickly sweet like most people are used to. All in all, the light pastries were the perfect end to a filling (and surprisingly enchanting) meal.

Report Card:
Atmosphere: A
Probably the first restaurant to earn this grade (can someone out there fact check for me?). Alaa and his family have done a wonderful job creating a welcoming, intimate space that perfectly complements their homey, comforting food.

Prices: A
The lunch buffet is extremely affordable considering the amount of items available to you, and for an extra $4, you can add your choice of meat! Dining off the menu is downright cheap, with the highest price you'll pay for an entrée being a mere $15.

Service: A
The entire staff was enthusiastic and welcoming, conversational and genuinely warm.

The Food: A
Do we see a trend in the grades? Everything we tried was delicious, with a few truly outstanding items. I can honestly say I didn't have a gripe about a single thing I consumed, and wow, was that a lot of food.

The Details:

Casablanca Middle Eastern Restaurant
(414) 271-6000
728 E. Brady St.
Milwaukee, WI 53202

A gorgeous and informative website is available here, along with a menu, hours of operation, etc., etc..

Tandoor: Indian Dining Bliss...

Waxing poetic about the symphonic wonderment that is Indian Cuisine is sort of like writing a love song: it's all been done before. Ask any foodie about their opinions on Indian food, and they'll promptly melt into a puddle of mewling goo, expounding the virtues of the spicing, regaling in the perfectly cooked meats, rich gravies, and lavish rice. Oh, we all love Indian food. But I'll let you in on a little secret: if you want the most perfectly food-gasmic Indian experience possible, you're going to have to make a field trip over to Tandoor, in good old West Allis.

I think it probably shows a bit of bias that I haven't really even written a word about the food itself, and I'm already calling Tandoor the best destination for Indian food in the city, if not the state. But the fact of the matter is, I've dined at almost every Indian restaurant in every major metropolitan area in Wisconsin, and I can honestly say that Tandoor has delivered the goods, time and time again, always leaving me immensely full and awed at their culinary abilities. That said, let's talk Indian food for a moment, shall we?

Tandoor immediately greets you with a warm, comforting blanket of spiced air the second you open the door. There's ginger, coriander, cumin, garlic... the smell is heavenly, and sets the stage for what's ahead. The restaurant itself is a bit odd, consisting of a bar side (which, to be honest, I don't think I've ever seen anyone sitting at), and a dining room side. It's positioned at one end of a row of businesses on Highway 100, just about a block north of Greenfield avenue. The interior is spartan, with some traditional tapestries hanging on the walls, simple tables and chairs, and just a little Asha Bhosle piped into the dining room, to never let you forget how close Bollywood is to taking over the world.
The restaurant is always clean, well lit, and well attended, but I've never had to wait for a table. During the week, Tandoor has an exceptional lunch buffet, and the dinner menu offers all of those options and more.

You may notice that the interior of Tandoor is a bit, well, homely... you'd be correct in your assessment. And as far as I'm concerned, that's okay. Actually, more than okay. I would venture to say that the combination of humble space and extraordinary food is what makes Tandoor such a find: this place is all about the food. No pretense, no out-of-body decorating experience... just absolutely breathtaking food. Tandoor is one of the few restaurants in my short list of favorite places that has no "environment" column, just because I think it's sort of irrelevant: you go for the food, not the décor.

Tandoor is, of course, named for the Indian clay oven used for a number of dishes. Tandoori chicken, which is probably the most well-known of these, is a perennial favorite on the menu. While none of the Eating Milwaukee staff ordered it on our visit, we've all had it before, and it certainly is worth the praise and reputation which follows it. Tender and lightly spiced, with that nuclear-red color so traditional, it's the perfect solution to both boring American barbecued chicken in the Summer months, and pale and bland baked chicken in the Winter. But, I digress: as much as I love a good hunk of yard bird seared in a rocket-hot clay oven, there are other, less pedestrian treats to behold. Let us then progress to the run-down, shall we?

You should be aware that when you are seated, regardless of your dining choices, you'll be treated to a plate of Papadum: and a triumvirate of chutneys... mint, tamarind, and onion:

There are certain things you have to do when visiting Tandoor. One of them is order appetizers. Tandoor's appetizer offerings are not only expansive, but genuinely interesting, bypassing so many of the "filler" appetizers we're all used to. All types of Pakoras (fritters), breads, soups, and superb Samosas adorn the offerings. We ordered four deep-fried treats:

Shrimp Pakora

Chicken Pakora



Paneer Pakora



And Samosas



The chicken pakoras are always a personal favorite. Loving referred to amongst the staff as "Indian Chicken Strips," the pakoras consist of chicken thigh meat, spiced and breaded in a chickpea batter, and fried to GBD perfection. The shimp and paneer (a home-made, fresh farmer's-type cheese) are given similar treatment. The batter on each gets super-extra crispy, and has a wonderful spice and saltiness to it -- not too strong, not too bland, but balanced in a way that is so typical in Indian cuisine. The samosas were the stars, however, with a crumbly, crispy pastry shell, and smooth, spicy filling consisting of potatoes and peas. Lauren, not being a potato fan, was a bit leery. However, upon continuous egging on from the rest of the staff, she finally caved, and quickly exclaimed, "You can't even tell it's potato!"

One of the things that always amazes me about Indian cooking is how a basic stable of spices can be re-combined in so many different ways, yielding different results each time. Most of the dishes that form the foundation of Indian cuisine use the same basic spices, yet when combined in different proportions, sometimes omitting one, sometimes the other, different dishes can take on completely unique personalities. Taking advantage of this, many Indian dishes spawn from a number of basic sauces (something like French Mother Sauces). Regardless of whether Tandoor uses this strategy in their kitchen, I can say with all confidence that each and every item on their menu has such a specific and unique identity, they all taste as though they have been made individually, specifically to order. I like that.

We each ordered a different curry, with the break down as follows:

Joe: Chicken Shaahi Korma



Lauren: Chicken Makhani (Butter Chicken)



Andy: Garlic Chicken and Shrimp



My Chicken Shaahi Korma was beyond reproach. A smooth, creamy gravy, filled to the brim with plump, sweet golden raisins, and spiked with half cashews, it was both sweet, salty, and incredibly well spiced. The chicken chunks were tender, big, and plentiful. Combined with the large amounts of Basmati rice served with dinner, and the copious amount of fresh-baked garlic nan, the effect was amazing. Andy's Garlic Shrimp and Chicken was awe-inspiring, with a gravy so garlic-heavy it was almost too strong. Please note the operative word there: almost. For those who love garlic (me), this was just at the nexus of strength and flavor. For those who abhor garlic, well, good luck finding Indian food without it. Having had the garlic shrimp and chicken before, I was familiar with the basic flavor. However, Andy ordered his at a Medium hotness level, as opposed to my typical wussified Mild heat, or the iron-tongued Hot heat (sorry, I had to use red text somewhere in here). With the dish at medium heat, flavors seemed brighter, more pronounced. The garlic seemed less heavy, less oppressive, and had a pleasant heat augmented with the chili flavor.

Lauren's Chicken Makhani was typically delicious, with a rich, thick gravy heavy with tomato, garlic, ginger, cream, and butter, with a sweet set of spices that immediately made me think clove, cinnamon, and cardamom. The chicken tikka in her dish were tiny, tender cubes that were the perfect compliment to the delicate sauce.

There isn't much else to say that may expound the virtue of Tandoor, other than to say that every time we've visited (often) in the last seven years, we've been wowed, and honored. We always find ourselves thanking the accommodating staff, over and over, and from my point of view, it's because I feel sort of privileged to be able to eat with them. It feels like you're welcomed into their world, seated at the kitchen table of their home, and served their dinner, as opposed to going to some mock-Indian theme park that specializes in Americanized food that bears little to no resemblance to actual authentic cooking. It's a treat, and albeit one that cannot be over-used: I think part of the wonderment of Indian cooking is the fact that I can't, no matter how hard I try, re-create it at home.

I love Tandoor, always have, and always will. The wait staff is inviting and fun, very attentive and engaging. The menu is immense and comprehensive, and the food... well, the food will leave you smiling in such a way that is normally reserved for more, ahem, adult activities. Visit soon, and visit often, as any of the Eating Milwaukee staff will tell you.

Report Card:
Atmosphere: B
Is this really important when you consider the food? I mean, you've got nice linen napkins, Asha Bhosle, and the smell of a thousand spices in the air. What more do you need?

Prices: A-
Certainly fair, although not the least expensive I've seen. When your food arrives, give in to the panic that you aren't getting a whole lot in that little metal bowl. Dump some curry on a pile of rice, and then tell me you aren't going to have enough to be full... especially as you pack your left-overs in a to-go box. A little goes a long way, and portion sizes are plenty big. Most entrées fall into the $9-$14 range.

Service: A+
Fun, smiling, and pleasant. And oh, do they make sure your water glass is full!

The Food: A+(++++)
Exceptional in every way. Order anything you want, you'll be happy. No heap of praise will ever explain how much I love Tandoor, you're just going to have to experience it yourself.

The Details:

Tandoor Restaurant
(414) 777-1600
1117 S. 108th St.
West Allis, WI 53214

Online menu (danger! out of date prices and offerings!) available here.

Riviera Maya

The staff of Eating Milwaukee and I have been jonesing for some Mexican food lately. Living on the South Side, there's no shortage of Mexican restaurants, but a disappointing trend has emerged: heavy, fried dishes, sloppy, sliding portions of insipid refried beans, and gobs of flavorless melted cheese. Yawn.

It's not that we don't like our melted cheese. Trust me. It's just that, after having portion after portion of greasy, cumin-tinged gringo-ized Mexican, our palettes were just looking for something a little different. Maybe more authentic.

Our quest for Better Mexican started at Hector's on Delaware, here in Bay View. Hector's has been a Milwaukee staple for years, and the Delaware location is a more recent addition to the family. After getting a few recommendations from Eating Milwaukee readers, I was pretty sure it'd be a safe bet for our quest.

The restaurant itself is really more of an eat-in bar, and it should be noted that the bar clearly takes center stage in the space. The dining room is half of the building, punctuated by basic two-top and four-top brown formica tables, and a variety of mis-matched chairs.

After browsing the expansive and adventurous menu for a few minutes, our waitress came to take our drink order. After Andy and Lauren ordered, I kindly asked if she'd be able to split our check, so that I could pay separately.

"No, I can't." She replied curtly. I thought she was kidding. "It's busy, and it says so on the menu." I ordered a diet Coke.

We all searched the menu, but couldn't find any mention of this no-check-splitting policy. We quickly decided to leave.

Now, I'm not the sort of person to get up and walk out of a restaurant, but at this point, we had waited to be seated, waited for menus, waited for the waitress, and the dining room was only half full. On top of that, our waitress had lied to us, as there was nothing on the menu about splitting checks.

I'd love to tell you how Hector's food was, but we never got a chance to taste it, and truth be told, I don't think I ever will.

After that rather disappointing rebuff, we decided to head off to Riviera Maya. And I can't tell you how glad I am we did.



Located at that nexus intersection of 1st/Howell/Lincoln/KK, Riviera Maya joins a host of fresh new eateries in Bay View. Immediately upon entering, though, you know it's of a different breed than most of the Mexican fare on the South Side. Bright, vibrant colors, fun, appropriate lighting, and a spattering of quirky décor items makes for a visually stimulating fist impression.



We sat towards the back, next to a gigantic hand-painted mural:



And an apparent bright-red scale model of St. Stosh's Church



I was digging it already.

Riviera Maya doesn't have a big menu. In fact, there's only a few entrées at all, taking up a wee three pages in the tiny menu folder. But don't let that fool you. Giving you the option of meats and sauces, there's an almost limitless amount of combinations to be had, and each one is more exciting than the next... I promise.

We started things out with some Guacamole and chips, which is one of our agreed-upon Greatest Foods On Earth:



The smallish-portion of guac was served with hot, fresh corn tortilla chips, and a red and a green salsa:



It should be noted that both salsas, while strictly a back-up act to the guac, were heavenly. The green tomatillo version was light, acidic, and a nice compliment to the buttery nature of the guac. The red was a thick, dark, murky chile concoction that had all of us scratching our heads: what is that flavor. Smoky, rich, meaty, and spicy all came together in an unexpected sweetness that was a sort of one-two punch with the heat that developed about five seconds after you started chewing.

The guac itself was topped with some crumbled queso fresco, and has just the right amount of pretty much everything. Fatty, buttery, and creamy, with a little salt, a little cilantro, a little red bell pepper. Fantastic.

We also ordered the Quesadilla Chica, a small quesadilla stuffed with a blend of cheeses and garlic-sautéed shrimp. One bite, and I knew I was in for an experience.



The shrimp were tender, buttery, and garlicky, all without ever losing the subtle sea flavor. The flour tortilla was tender, and combined with the fresh pico, was the perfect way to get our stomachs rumbling for the main event.

As far as entrées go, Andy had a burrito filled with garlic shrimp (inspired, he says, by how good the quesadilla was):



Lauren had tacos stuffed with shredded beef:



And I had chicken with a Oaxacan Mole:



All of our meals were also served with a cup of Tortilla Soup:



The soup was wonderful. Tortilla Soup has been kind of a sore spot for me lately, as the last version I had was thin, flavorless, overly hot, with gargantuan chunks of chicken and veggies too big to eat with a spoon and almost necessitating a knife. Riviera Maya's version, however, was sublime. The broth was bright red, tinged with broiled tomatoes, and scented with fried onions, chile, and a flavor that instantly called to mind miso. The lime served with the soup was a nice touch, but I wish I would have tried it without smashing my whole lime in first, as I imagine the acidity I added probably wasn't needed.

Andy's burrito was, as expected, fantastic. The cheeses were mild and flavorful, creamy and rich without being overpowering. The shrimp complimented them perfectly. I don't think I can say enough about the shrimp: I'm fairly sure I've never had shrimp that were both as flavorful and as perfectly cooked.

Lauren's three tacos were served in very fresh, very homemade corn tortillas. They were essentially filled with meat, which is refreshing, and what I imagine to be very authentic, but I did find the meat lacking just a bit of seasoning.

My chicken with mole was superb. The chicken breast was pounded flat, pan-seared, and absolutely smothered in thick, rich, dark mole sauce. The mole smacked of chocolate, with some undertones of peanut, chile, and sesame. There was the familiar and comforting flavor and mouth-feel of toasted bread crumbs, and the silkiness of a fine cream sauce. Combined with the lightly seasoned white rice with peas and corn, and the steamed fresh corn tortillas, it was truly wonderful. I kept wanting to shovel the whole portion in my mouth, but found myself eating slowly, finding every last bit of rice to sop up the sauce, savoring the harmonics of the sweet chocolate and chile.

The staff was thoroughly impressed by Riviera Maya, and was comforted by their overwhelming hospitality, not to mention their willingness to split the check. If you're looking for an alternative to Chi-Chi's era Mexican cuisine, Riviera Maya is a strong starting point.

Report Card:
Atmosphere: A
Funky, fun, with a nod towards traditional Mexican design and color, but still recognizable as a contemporary American restaurant. Be careful, you might forget you're still in Milwaukee.

Prices: B
Prices for entrées range from about $9 to $15. Appetizers are a little steep, starting at $4 and going up to $9. This isn't an every-day affair, for sure, but a wonderful treat. I'm comfortable saying the prices are justified, considering what you get.

Service: B+
Servers and staff were attentive and personable. No complaints. Oh, and they had no problem splitting the check. Ah-hem, Hector's.

The Food: A-
While not brimming with options, the menu is exciting without being intimidating. A few old favorites, a few more intriguing options. Lots of big, authentic flavors all presented well and portioned just right.

The Details:

Riviera Maya
(414) 294-4848
2257 S. Kinnickinnic Ave.
Milwaukee, WI 53207
view the restaurant's site and menu here