Le Fou Frog (No frogs were harmed in the writing of this blog)

By Jason Wells

Le Fou Frog is a brasserie located in Kansas City’s historic River Market district that specializes in French cuisine. Prior to the founding of the Fancy Britches Dining Society, it was a much talked about restaurant amongst future members and a highly anticipated destination for our fourth meeting. As this was to be the last meeting of the Fancy Britches before a three-month hiatus, a certain air of celebration cloaked the event.

The restaurant opens immediately to a cozy bar, which boasts seating for only 5 patrons and features inebriants that gentlemen of my ilk seldom indulge. The hostess escorted us to our table in the dining area, which was equally as quaint. Any time you dine in a restaurant where 25+ guests will make a fire marshal nervous, you know you’re in for a fantastic gastronomic experience.

Since we were the only diners in a restaurant the size of my living room, our waiter had no trouble locating us and quickly retrieving our drinks from the bar. We were handed a traditional printed menu, which included the classic French standards foie gras and escargots, as well as various other appetizers, salads and soups. Each table also featured a chalkboard tablet complete with daily specials and entrees the chef was offering for the evening.

Before we were able to delve too deeply into the menus, the waiter brought us a complimentary Amuse Bouche of Ostrich Carpaccio. The ostrich was served in a light sauce and a small piece of baguette for convenience. Feelings towards the ostrich were fairly neutral with no outspoken fans or critics.

The daunting menu offered little relief as members struggled with what to order. You know when you go to dinner with old people or shut-ins and they joke about how they don’t know what to order because they don’t get out much and even Riblets and Quesadilla Burgers from Applebee’s sound incredible? It was literally like that. We wanted to make sure every avenue was covered. No French delicacy was going to escape our wrath. Okay, wrath may be a bit extreme, but we were going to eat some freakin’ duck confit and that was that. After much anguish and debate, members were finally ready to instruct the waiter on their menu choices.

Since appetizers were the hardest part of the menu to discriminate against, we each ordered our own, as well as a “floater” app. As the waiter arrived with our tray of goodness, it was like Christmas morning. The 364 days of feigning good behavior; weekly Sunday school meetings; completed homework assignments; were all finally paying off.

Kim started with the Ahi Tuna, which is a bit pedestrian, but always good. The tuna was presented in a tower and was accompanied by crackers allowing the diner to shovel the tuna into their mouth at break-neck speed. Always a fantastic way to start a meal.

Caitlin ordered the Scallops, which were simply prepared and presented, and incredibly on-point. There are only two rules with scallops, serve them fresh and cook them properly. Anything beyond that risks sabotaging the integrity of the scallop. These scallops exceeded expectations.

Matt got the chef’s special appetizer of the evening: Shrimp Puff Pastry. Puff pastry is a staple in French cooking so we were less than impressed with the gummy shrimp, soggy dough and floury Beurre Blanc.

I requested the Foie Gras since I’ve never really had an occasion to order it previously. The liver was delicately grilled and served with toast points. It definitely wasn’t a favorite dish, but I was happy to have obliged my adventurous side.

The floating appetizer was the Escargots. Most novice gourmands shy away from snails fearing unfamiliar texture and unpleasant taste. However, it has been my experience that escargots usually trumps whichever entrée I tend to order. The escargots were served in-shell with their traditional pairing of heavy garlic and butter, which is really the essence of good escargots.

Not wanting to look like asshole, I went ahead and had a standard five-course meal. I ordered the Lobster Bisque for my second course. For reasons beyond my control, I am compelled to order lobster bisque whenever I see it on a menu. Le Fou Frog was no exception. The bisque was forgettable to say the least; I’m even having trouble recalling details for the review. All I know is that I haven’t been that disappointed in France since World War II.

Matt and Caitlin decided to bypass the salad round, but Kim and I held strong.

Kim had the Beet and Spinach Salad in order to maintain some semblance of her everyday diet. Since beets are gross I decided to abstain, but I’m positive Kim thoroughly enjoyed it.

I went with the Duck Confit Salad, which was basically a giant breast of duck confit on top of a bed of spinach that was just for appearance. The duck was tender and exploded with flavor. The juices that weren’t savored by the Fancy Britches were absorbed by the spinach, which was promptly discarded in the trash after the duck was finished.

The entrees arrived and the Fancy Britches loosened their belts and dug right in.

Kim, temped by the bizarre, ordered the Ostrich as her main dish. Since we all had a sneak peek of the Ostrich earlier, there were no surprises when her plate arrived. The dish was good, but I prefer a bit more…what’s the word?...uh…flavor with my meat. It did come with a tasty potato dish that was appreciated.

Caitlin got the Turbot Wellington, a dish she had her eye on for quite some time. Once again the Turbot was served in a puff pastry, which took away from the natural flavor of the fish. The chef failed again at his attempt to perfect the puff pastry. However, the potato croquettes were delicious, and it probably came with asparagus or something like that.

Matt ordered a classic Steak Au Poivre; a strip steak coated with peppercorn and smothered in a peppery brandy reduction. The steak was accompanied by pommes frites, and both were so tasty that it brings a tear to my eye thinking about them. Matt Shaw brought home another winner. Well done, sir.

I continued my theme of decadence by ordering the Filet Le Fou, a French spin on the surf n’ turf. The filet came with a lobster tail that had been removed from the shell and drowned in cheese. Note: unless you are serving me delicious lobster mac and cheese, cheese and lobster need never enter the same equation, especially in a fine dining atmosphere. The filet was also disappointing, causing my entrée to be a complete disaster.

Dessert was a series of small plates ranging from cheesecake to an assortment of mousses. They were enthusiastically shared and served as the perfect end to the meal.

The verdict on Le Fou Frog is quite complimentary. Despite the failed entrees, Matt Shaw being the exception, Le Fou Frog had plenty of memorable dishes. It’s a great place to take someone you’re looking to “impress” (wink, wink). The wine selection was outstanding and no complaints on the service. The courses were well spaced and the food presentation had a certain understated class. It’s definitely pricey, but if you’re in a French restaurant that’s not expensive, beware.
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Le Fou Frog, 400 E 5th Street, Kansas City, MO 64106

I’m a Total Slut for Extra Virgin

by Jason Wells

The third meeting of the Fancy Britches Dining Society found members convening at Michael Smith’s über-trendy tapas restaurant, Extra Virgin. Kim’s run took a bit longer than expected, which left Matt Shaw to his own devices at the bar while he waited for the remaining members to arrive.

We walked in to discover Shaw indulging in what appeared to be some sort of fruity rum cocktail fit for a high school junior drinking for the first time on prom night - right before she throws up on the guy she’s hoping to bang. To my amazement, it was actually a fancified whiskey drink garnished with fruit and rose petals or something gay like that. While I don’t condone mixing whiskey with anything, God dammit if I wasn’t proud to find out it wasn’t rum.

Since it was a nice enough night, we decided to dine outdoors and bask in the mediocrity that is downtown Kansas City. Let it be no secret that I am a food snob, and there isn’t much I enjoy much more than a nice dinner at a classy restaurant. It’s comparable to good sex. You anticipate it, you revel in it, and once it’s over you need a cigarette to cap it off, then you promptly fall asleep. In the morning you take care of any “leftovers” (high-five!).

If we are to insert our waiter into this sex metaphor, he would have been the cool jock and we would have been the homely girl with glasses and braces. The waiter acted completely indifferent to us and it was as if he were doing us a favor by providing us with the pleasure of his company. Caitlin ordered a Pinot Blanc, which is apparently the equivalent to drinking Thunderbird out of the bottle by the railroad tracks. The waiter shot her a look of disdain like she just spit in his grandmother’s face. Kim ordered a Riojo, which must have been a better selection in the waiter’s opinion because his look of disgust dissipated momentarily. I ordered my standard Makers Mark on the rocks. The waiter didn’t say shit to me because everyone knows not to fuck with the guy drinking whiskey.

So with drinks ordered it was time to peruse the menu and make our selections. With dozens of tapas to choose from the decision process was arduous to say the least. It was decided that we would start off with a selection of meats and cheeses with an accompaniment of marinated olives to exercise our palettes before we got down to brass tax.

Round 1:

Meat Plate: (Pictured, left to right: Delicious peppers, Speck, Ham, Boar, Chorizo)

• Jason: Speck – Speck is like a spicier version of prosciutto. It was definitely the surprise of the meat plate and the clear winner.
• Kim: Chorizo – a spicy sausage originating in the Iberian Peninsula. I’m sorry to announce that this Chorizo didn’t make the cut. It had an off-putting taste that I couldn’t place. Needless to say, no me gusta.
• Matt: Serrano Ham – If any item has a proper noun followed by the word “ham”, Shaw is down, and this evening was no exception. As always, the ham had a good showing.
• Caitlin: Wild Boar Cacciatorini – This was the wild card meat, and my personal favorite. It was very reminiscent of traditional Italian salamis, which is always a plus.

Cheese Assortment: (Pictured, left to right: Big flat crackers, Sheep, Goat, Manchego, unidentifiable sweet fruit paste, Robiola)

• Jason: Valle de Cati – Goat cheese; a little pedestrian, but delicious nonetheless.
• Kim: Green Dirt Sheep's Milk – Don’t let the name fool you; this particular cheese was delightful, and paired nicely with the boar.
• Shaw: Italian Robiola – As with all the cheeses we ordered, the Italian Robiola did not disappoint. It had a sharp taste with a nice finish.
• Caitlin: Spanish Manchego – The Manchego was fantastic. I have a friend in the cheese business (shout out to Matt Ronzio), and he would be proud to offer this tasty fare to his clients.

After we each ordered another cocktail from our hostile butthole of a waiter, we were ready to explore more exotic items and really challenge our taste buds. After all, we here at the Fancy Britches Dining Society encourage stepping outside the box and embracing gastronomic oddities.

Round 2:

• Jason: Crispy Duck Gizzards in Spicy Sauce – I cannot say that this was my first endeavor into the world of gizzards, but I can say these were by far the best intestines I’ve ever eaten. They were succulent, tender and had just the right amount of heat and crispiness. That Michael Smith is really onto something.
• Matt: Braised Pork Cheeks – Or, Joues de Porc Braisées, as the French say, were pretty good. They tasted “beefier” than the name would lead you to believe, and I wasn’t a huge fan of the corn salsa, but I would recommend them to someone that isn’t quite ready for the Spicy Halibut cheeks.
• Caitlin: Spicy Halibut Cheeks – Speaking of Spicy Halibut Cheeks, I’ve got three words: KICK FUCKING ASS! I don’t “all cap” very often, much less follow it with an exclamation point unless I mean serious business. If they genetically spawned these Halibut, harvested them, cut out their cheeks, and threw the rest of the body away unused, I would still support this dish. It was that good.

So it’s official, round 2 was awesome. Even the dumb waitress that cleared our table and made a snarky remark to Shaw couldn’t bring me down from this high. After we finished imbibing our cocktails, we flagged down our ass-clown of a waiter and embarked on…

Round 3:

• Jason: Grilled Baby Octopus – It tastes as delicious as it sounds. Served on a bed of cucumbers, tomatoes and feta cheese, this dish was my most anticipated foodstuff of the evening. *At this point in the post I would like to thank the octopus’ mother for being so callous as to sacrifice her baby in order to satisfy my palette, well done ma’am. Said baby octopus tasted “steak-like”, and was buttery indeed. Two things I look for and endorse in almost all instances (Note: although Matt Shaw enjoyed the tastiness of the baby octopus, he did not support taking the life of an infant octopus. You sir, are a better man than I).
• Kim: Crab Stuffed Piquillo Peppers – As good as this tapa was, it kind of got lost in the shuffle. I love crab and I love peppers, and yes, I did go for seconds. But, I could get a similar dish at most any pretentious tapas restaurant, but this was Michael Smith’s pretentious tapas restaurant, by far the most pretentious tapas restaurant in Kansas City. So, I guess I had more pretention in mind when I bit into the pepper. Maybe Michael Smith isn’t as pretentious as I thought, or maybe he’s so pretentious that I didn’t even recognize his pretention.
• Shaw: Roasted Carbrito Tacos – Matt Shaw is such a good humanitarian that he couldn’t bare to order the Grilled Baby Octopus, but he had no problem ordering baby goat in taco form. Normally I would get mad at the hypocrisy of the whole situation, but we’re talking about tacos here. Even the staunchest vegan sneaks the occasional meat filled taco when no one is looking. That’s a scientific fact. The tacos were DIY, which added an element of fun to dish. The meat was paired with a tangy sauce and some other type of goo that escapes my memory at present. Overall, a great selection.
• Caitlin: Stuffed Whole Artichoke – The artichoke was filled with Parmesan cheese and Sopressata. Sounds good right? Wrong. If I had a dog, I surely wouldn’t serve this to him, that would be cruel and PETA would immediately initiate some sort of smear campaign against me. I think the last time I had a dish this disappointing I was at the Wendy’s on Main and 31^st. Just awful.

Dinner was coming to an end, but there was one last tapa that I’d had my eye on for some time, and I’d be damned if I were going to leave before giving it a taste. Caitlin on the other hand was in need of a dish to redeem herself for her failed previous attempt. After several minutes of trying to locate Dickhead Fartbreath (pretty sure that was our waiter’s name), our final selections of the evening were placed and all that was left was to wait and commiserate over the bounty of food that had been devoured throughout the course of the night. As I finished my last snort of whiskey, Peepants McGee (the waiter’s counterpart, equally as terrible) arrived with our final plates, which brings us to…

Round 4:

• Jason:Crispy Pig Ear Salad – Let me start by saying this, I love pig. Talk about a versatile animal, they give us pork loin, pork chops, pork steak, ham, salami, hot dogs, spare ribs, prosciutto, and let’s not forget the king of pork products – The Almighty Bacon. I had never had a pig ear, and didn’t know what to expect. I was pretty sure I was going to like it, but I had no idea how much. The ears were served cut into small strips, garnished with spinach tossed in oil. While I thought the greens kind of got in the way, it did nothing to diminish the taste explosion of the pig ears. If I had the means, I would eat these delectable little ears in all kinds of instances. I would eat them on a train, I would eat them in a plane. I would eat them on a boat, I would keep them in my coat. So listen up, make sure you hear, I fucking love crispy pig ear.

• Caitlin: Baked Maine Mussels – So Caitlin’s chance at redemption got off to a bad start. The mussels arrived smothered in some sort of bread crumb/saw dust combination. It was reminiscent of the stuff janitors use to cover vomit when some idiot kid can’t make it to the bathroom in time in elementary school. So this dish definitely wasn’t easy on the eyes. The Fancy Britches not being a group to judge a book by its cover, we all dug in hoping to be pleasantly surprised. Alas, it wasn’t meant to be. The mussels tasted like we were eating cat poop out of a liter box. Not that I’ve ever done that, I just have a vivid imagination.

So what’s the verdict you might ask? The Fancy Britches Dining Society whole-heartedly recommends Extra Virgin to Gourmands and novice masticators alike. There are dishes that suit all kinds of tastes that range from the lame to the adventurous. I’m even willing to overlook the shoddy service, as the food more than compensated for Dickhead Fartbreath’s and Peepants McGee’s appalling treatment of the Fancy Britches. There was even a Michael Smith sighting, and let me add he looked even douchier than I had imagined (he’s no Hubbert). While there is no official rating system in place as of now, I would imagine Extra Virgin would receive exceptional marks from all Fancy Britches members. So until next time dear readers, keep your culinary mind open and your stomachs full.

Caitlin Says:

I would like to point out 2 things:

1) How upset I was at my 2 dishes. You make it sound like I wasn't lamenting over my choice for days to come.
2) The last and nastiest pig ear that you and I shared. I would like to caution the reader on the extra thick / chewy pig ear.

In her spare time, Caitlin angrily shakes her fist at the neighborhood children.

Shaw Says:

First off, the drink I had was some kind of fancified Old Fashioned, which was the only $9 drink on the menu I could bring myself to order. I ordered a Manhattan for my second drink and they just brought me another Old Fashioned. Not that there's much difference between the two, but I was hoping for less fruit in my cocktail.

The idea of the baby octopus horrified me for a few reasons. 1. Because I pictured the whole octopus to be on the plate, looking like a wacky wallwalker salad. 2. Because unlike the baby goat, the octopus was probably alive when we sat down for the meal. And especially 3. that octopi are pretty intelligent creatures, as noted here on Wikipedia, which is never wrong. All that being said it was incredibly delicious in flavor and texture. As for the baby goat, I had no backup order to switch to when the waiter told me it was baby (which he also seemed to enjoy a little too much), so I just rolled with it.

You Can Put Your Dumpling In My Sauce Anytime!

The Fancy Britches Dining Society convened at Blue Koi for their second meeting, a dumpling house situated in the eclectic 39^th Street District in Westport; a location commonly frequented by hipsters, bums, filthy hippies and bleeding heart liberals alike. Close enough to Kansas to give anyone the creeps, but still in Missouri, so booze at gas stations is still in play. In order to keep the debauchery and mayhem to a minimum, only founding members attended the event.

Caitlin and I arrived first, and in a momentary lapse of judgment, Caitlin requested a table for three when there are clearly four members. After ordering drinks and convincing ourselves that four people could fit at a table equipped to handle three people max, Matt and Kim (the remaining members of our dinner club, not to be confused with the kick-ass indie band by the same name) arrived and we were forced to move to a different waiter’s table in another section, thereby pissing off our original waitress. So far, off to a bad start.

Dinner began with an assortment of appetizers. As not to offend the proprietors of the restaurant we order pork and seafood dumplings, which is customary at a dumpling house. To accompany said dumplings we also settled on the crispy tofu with awesome sauce and a fried vegetable medley with an accompaniment of dipping sauces.

True to form, the dumplings were incredible. Delicious little pan-fried morsels stuffed with bits of meaty goodness and overflowing with herbs and spices. And, once they’re smothered in the delectable hoisen sauce, let me tell you brother, you’re in dumpling heaven. The surprise of the evening was the crispy tofu and the aptly named awesome sauce. I can’t take credit for naming the sauce awesome, but had it been my task I probably wound have landed on the same adjective-focused nomenclature. Not to discount the fried veggies, as they were great as well, but they paled in comparison to the amazingness that was the dumplings.

As is standard operating procedure, all Fancy Britches members are required to order a different dish for their main course. I’ve taken the liberty of breaking down the entrees by member, you’re welcome:

• Matt: Of course Shaw got the Chinese Style Pot Roast. Before he even arrived at the restaurant I predicted this would be the case. Shaw always reverts to old habits, and with no stew on the menu, his palette craved the familiarity of slow cooked hunks of beef adorned with vegetables simmered in meaty juices atop of a bed of egg noodles. All kidding aside, this dish rawked despite the fact that at least one elf was killed in the making of this dish (inside joke, don’t ask).

• Kim: Kim ordered the Braised Tofu with Shitake Mushrooms. I instantly felt bad for her for obviously missing the Braised Pork with Shitake Mushrooms listed right above the tofu. She had been too hasty in her decision and as a result had mistakenly ordered a meatless dish. It arrived, and to my amazement it wasn’t that bad. Sure, the pork would have been appreciated, but the rich sauce and beautifully cooked mushrooms more than made up for the lack of animal flesh.

• Caitlin: Per the waiter’s recommendation, Caitlin ordered the Chicken with Black Bean Sauce. This was by far my favorite dish. To quote Willy Wonka, and I’m paraphrasing here, “It was scrumdiddlyumpcious.” The chicken and the peppers coupled with the noodles and black been sauce combined to make a near perfect plate.

• Jason: I went a little outside the box and ordered the Cantonese Roast Duck. Let this be a lesson kids, never try anything new and stick to what you know. It honestly tasted like someone threw up in my bowl and tried to cover up the smell with Febreze. The 13 spices must have congealed into a paste with the consistency and taste of fresh poo. And I’m not just being critical, that was the consensus table-wide. Good thing we share or I would have been really disappointed.

Overall I’d have to give Blue Koi high marks. The waiter was courteous and helpful even if he was higher than a KU grad at a Phish concert in Boulder, CO. My drink was never empty and his knowledge of the menu proved rather beneficial. The décor was a bit lacking, but when the food more than makes up for it I’m willing to let it slide. The prices were very reasonable and the intimate setting would be a great place to take a first date you don’t really care about. I’ll be back again Blue Koi, but this time I’m staying the hell away from the duck.

My Name is Jason W., and I’m a Taj Mahalic

Dinner commenced promptly at 7:30 at the Taj Mahal restaurant located in the neighborhood of Waldo (for those curious readers, Taj Mahal is conveniently located adjacent to Lew’s Place and Aldi’s in the Waldo Shopping Center, classy). In addition to the founding members, the FBDSKA was proud to welcome junior members Sarah Moore and David Gilbertson to partake in the evening’s festivities.

Mastication began as the thin yellow and black things came with their accompaniment of assorted goo. At first snuff, the thin yellow and black things seemed to be on the level, but further tasting would prove otherwise as the once delicious “crackers” deteriorated into an aftertaste similar to dirt and old lady farts.

So dinner was off to a bad start, but could the arrangements of goo help get the dining car get back on track? The answer was yes. However, were you to ask me to name the goos and what was in them, I would be at a loss. I can relay this piece of information though: the orange goo was fantastic. The green goo was memorable. The red goo wasn’t without its charm.

To get the ball rolling Kim ordered an appetizer for the table. We decided a combo would be the best way to sample many delicious Indian treats, so an order was placed for the Vegetable – Non Vegetable combo platter. No joke, that was the name. The only thing we knew for sure was we may or may not be getting vegetables.

The appetizer arrived, and after several attempts of the waiter trying to mumble what was what, we dug in. My favorite was the non-vegetable. It’s just so hard to find a decent non-vegetable at an Indian restaurant these days. Not that the vegetable was bad, but the non-vegetable was clearly the king of the Vegetable – Non Vegetable combo platter. Also noteworthy was the white sauce that you could smother your vegetable or non-vegetable in.

After several mumbled pleas from an overzealous waiter begging us to order, the FBDSKCA finally had their entrées locked and loaded and lively banter followed as we all waited in anticipation for our Indian fare to arrive. Topics of conversation ranged from recreational drug use to float trips to mountain climbing. Pretty standard. As dishes began filling our table we all agreed that family style was clearly the best way to enjoy the abundance of food.

I’d like to take this opportunity to quickly recap each member’s entrée (bare with me on spelling):

Kim: Aloo Gohbi – Cauliflower and other assorted non-meat products. Yeah, I know, but she runs marathons.

Dave: Admittedly, Dave is a huge Goat Curry fan. But he decided to change it up a bit and went with Goat Biyahri, complete with hooves and bone matter.

Sarah: Chicken Saag. Boring. I do have to admit that this was my favorite dish. However, if I made it at home I’d call it shredded chicken with brown gravy. I don’t know why Indian’s feel the need to complicate things.

Matt: Chicken 65, cuz Shaw can’t drive 55 (get it?). I couldn’t tell you what was in it, but I’m not 100% convinced chicken made the final cut.

Caitlin: Lamb Tiki Massala - A traditional Indian dish consisting of meat and slop. It was delicious.

Jason: Lamb Vindiloo. I mainly got this because it had an illustration of boobs next to the name. I later found out that boobs signify spicy. Interestingly enough, Lamb Vindiloo translates to Meat with Ragu sauce in English.

The ambience was a little sub par, but that’s to be expected when dining at a strip mall restaurant. It was very casual to say the least, and our private dining room did offer some intimacy. Would I take a first date there? No. Would I take my overweight wife that’s well past her prime there? Certainly.

I can’t complain about a lack of attention from the servers, but when you’re the only diners in a restaurant you better get some decent service. “No, I don’t really need a fifth Diet Coke, but what the hell.” “No, Caitlin does not want another beer, but thanks for asking.” “Sir, you don’t need to fill my water every time I take a sip, but I appreciate your enthusiasm.” “Not yet, we’ll let you know when we’re ready to order.”

So what’s the verdict? Despite Kim’s best efforts to sabotage the inaugural meeting of the Fancy Britches Dining Society by nominating three Indian restaurants - a ballsy move to say the least - all in attendance would agree that dinner was a great success (my toilet may offer a dissenting opinion, but it was totally worth it). For some it was their first endeavor into the world of Indian food. I can safely say nobody hated it, but experienced Indian food enthusiasts can recall better meals.