Welcome to Brown on the Towne, the illegitimate, bastard brain child of two friends who enjoy their eats and surroundings. We are Homer and Jordan. Our mission is to document our experience of ethnic eateries in the Omaha area. We do not claim to be politically, mathematically or chemically correct.
Leave us a comment or email us at brownonthetowne@gmail.com
We here at Brown on the Towne are in a little holiday hiatus and will resume saying things about places where food is soon.
So remember that COOLEST THING CONTEST??!?!?!?! Some awesome readers have sent us some stuff and we would like to recognize them for taking a few moments out of their day to send us some stuff.
Here's a sweet ass incense box from reader Laura. Check out the neato wood burnings.
And here is a pic from a photo project by readers Nakiea and Natalie
Thanks friends!
And in the spirit of the commercialized holiday season, we here at Brown on the Towne want to present these folks some prizes. Sorry we won't be taking you out to eat, yet, but we actually got some real prizes. So boo to all of you who didn't bother to send us anything. Your loss.
Thanks to the philanthropy of our Brown on the Towne Special Guest #1 Pete, we have these prizes to offer our contestants. Awesome!!!!!!!
Brown on the Towne kicks ass. Next time we have a contest, you better damn send us something.
Homer: One of you out there has decided to be nearly as cool as Jordan and I and send us cool stuff. You know who you are. You are the coolest.
Jordan: We totally appreciate your coolness and your coolness just amplifies the lameness that everyone else basks in for not sending us cool stuff. Nice work LK.
Homer: Let's reiterate. Browness is a state of mind.
Jordan: Yes... Non-brownness thus qualifies, sort of, for our brand of existential food reviewing.
Homer: Just because a place is ethnic doesn’t' mean it is brown. And just because a place is not ethnic doesn't mean it is non brown, would you agree?
Jordan: Yes, I think. Sooo, that brings us to the next destination of Brown on the Towne, Lisa's Radial Cafe.
Homer: I am trying really hard to justify here....
Jordan: I feel you on that one, but there's enough left over smoke residue in that place to make it brown enough my friend.
Homer: Do you know some Radial history that I am unaware of?
Jordan: Just that it is the oldest, and previously smokiest cafe in Omaha (before they passed that darn smoking ban).
Homer: Ahh. I thought you might have some old speakeasy story, or heard that it used to be a cigar factory...
Anyway, TO THE FOOD!
Jordan: Doing the Radial was a request from some faithful Brown on the Towne readers. Those lucky yahoos even got to be our Brown on the Town Special Guests #2-5. You filthy animals you!
Homer: When do we stop numbering our special guests? I don't know about you, but I think giving people numbers is something that should remain in the realm of the DMV.
Jordan: Are you suggesting we create BOTT code names for these folks? Maybe assign them names of famous authors like Thor Heyerdahl??
Homer: What's BOTT?
Jordan: Brown On The Towne mofo!! BOTT!!!
Homer: Right on! Maybe it could be like Sesame Street, and we could introduce them as a number and a letter
Jordan: I think that's workable.
Homer: Today's BOTT was brought to you by the letter X and the number 69. Today's special guest, X69!!!
Jordan: Homer, allow me an opportunity to do what I shall now dub, "Jordan fuzzily remembers things he used to did."
Homer: Go man go!
Jordan: So back in the day I lived in a wonderful, magical place I will refer to as Hamilton House. In that house lived magical creatures called The Kid, Cool Breeze and Cowboy Cal. Every so often, (or every night) we would have neighbors, friends, friendly animals, enemies, whomever over for parties. The parties would go on, trees were climbed, many a good time had. Usually the next morning as I would deliriously try to hide from the sunlight creeping in through my window, a faint rumble, no, a voice in the distance could be heard. That voice would say, "r-r-ra-di-al". I would turn in my bed wondering if really heard what I thought, and I would hear it again, only louder and minutely more coherent, "radial". Other voices would join in. Then I found myself enchanted by this morning magic and roaring radial at the top of my lungs. Then the roomies would appear in the hallway and we would go to the Radial.... Ah memories.
Homer: Sounds like heaven. If heaven had rafts...
Jordan: Let's just say the Radial conjures fond memories... the rafts, though wonderfully delicious, would be the cause of many digestive nightmares later in the day.
Homer: What exactly is a raft you ask?
Jordan: A pure, unadulterated, hangover cure and artery clogger kneaded into an amazing plate of goodness. Here is an example:
Homer: Wow. Look at the size of that thing! I am not such a regular at the Radial as Jordan. But the raft is legendary. Curing hangovers since 12 AD. Or round about there.
Alas, the raft was not in my cards that day. I tried more traditional breakfast fare. I ordered the corned beef hash. Now that reminds me of my childhood. Frosty mornings in my flannel PJ's around a fireplace delicately sampling delicious corned beef hash...wait. I think I made that up. Actually, I grew up in balls hot Phoenix, I slept in my underwear and my family ate corned beef hash from tortillas. Ahh the memories...
Jordan: I understand and respect your menu selection that day. The Radial has excellent breakfast foods served all day long. What did you think of the hash?
Homer: Well, to be honest it tasted just like I remember. I am not sure if that is a good or bad thing. I mean, they were wonderful memories, but I don't know if corned beef hash was all that great back then either. And the raft?
Jordan: Oh the raft... I need a moment..........................................................................................okay.
For those uneducated in the structural composition of the raft.... The foundation is made up of an entire plate of hash browns. On the hash browns rests two buttermilk biscuits. The whole thing is smothered in the Radial's famous sausage gravy. Quite the meal, but that's not all. On top of the whole thing are two eggs made to order. I need another moment...............................
It was great.
I will advise you, faithful readers, to try visiting the radial on a weekday. The weekends are full of preppy college kids and west O expatriates looking for a sense of authenticity to boost their egos. On the weekdays you meet the neighbors, the regulars and some really cool blue-collar folk with interesting stories to share.
Homer: Good advice. I also have some sound advice. Never try to eat a Tablespoon full of cinnamon. Or if you do, make sure someone videotapes it.
Homer: Back with a vengeance...It is Brown on the Towne!
Jordan: In preparation for our victorious return, I ate at Cuba Linda just an hour ago!!!!!
Homer: It is so damn wonderful, it makes me want to cry.
Jordan: So a while back we checked out this place called Caribbean Delights.
Homer: AKA, the Jamaican Jerk.
Jordan: That asshole.
Homer: Seriously, this place is so cool it has two names.
Jordan: Sweet. I got there first and got to chatting with the owner for a few. He was definitely a cool dude and, since I had no previous knowledge of Jamaican food, he gave me a crash course in all the good stuff. Cool guy.
Homer: Hold on. We forgot something very important! This restaurant marks the first special guest appearance in Brown on the Towne history!
Jordan: Oh hell yeah!!!!!!! Let us introduce you to Brown on the Towne Special Guest #1 Peter!
Homer: Don Pedro. The bearded wonder. The sex machine himself. It was an honor and a privilege.
Back to the facts. I walked in on Jordan's conversation with the chef/owner. They were in heated debate about something or other. Probably way too deep for this guy, I do not know, I was not there.
Jordan: We were discussing the correct way to pronounce "Ya Mon!" I was confused about which syllable to stress. Not really. We were talking about his business and I specifically asked him about operating in a mostly conservative town like Omaha.
Homer: And what did he say?
Jordan: He liked the fact that a lot of people here are friendly and patronize his establishment regularly. He wishes that customers were more adventurous and try new things instead of just getting the jerk chicken.
Homer: What an asshole, that chicken. I didn't hear that statement, but it makes what he told me later even funnier. I perused the menu for a while and set my sights on the Oxtail (Stew). When I informed him of my decision, he said, "White people will try anything." I am not sure if he was being sarcastic, or if he meant it. I laughed though. I guess he did not appreciate my level of brown...
Jordan: Sad... Maybe it was the lighting???
Homer: True, the lighting made everything look...well...neon...
Jordan: very festive. What did you think of the oxtail??
Homer: The oxtail was very typical of all the dishes I have eaten at this place. Braised meat, subtle spices, and fall off the bone tender. It was the same for the curried chicken I had before. Braising meat takes a long time, and it takes on a very distinct flavor and texture characteristic. I like it, even more so because seriously, who has time to braise meat these days?
Jordan: Time well spent. When I was talking to the chef/owner earlier he educated me about some of the traditional Jamaican dishes they serve. One he spoke of and I eventually ordered was Ackee and Salted Codfish. Ackee is a fruit native to the West Indies and if not ripened just right it is poisonous.
Homer: No shit. Did you just make that up?
Jordan: No sir. That's the straight truth. I felt like living dangerously that night.
Homer: The oxtail, when not prepared properly, tastes like a cows anus... Your dish makes me sound like a wiener. Straight up frankfurter. A salami even. What does Ackee taste like? Besides death...
Homer: Luckily for you, you had some fried dumplings to sop up all that scrambled egg goodness.
Jordan: Very true. These things were monstrous. I could only eat one and they served me three. Two words: Homemade Juices!!!!
Homer: Oh yeah. I forgot about those. You know, lately, my instinct for the amazing is dead on. I was going to order something else, but the homemade fruit punch called to me like a stalker ex-boyfriend.
Jordan: Was your stalker ex-boyfriend as tasty as the homemade fruit punch?
Homer: No. He tasted like pickled herring and gin... This tasted like real fruit juices and spices.
Jordan: Very good stuff. I would even say that the homemade juices get a Brown on the Towne seal of quality and approval.
Homer: At this point, I would like to perform what I shall now dub, "A rant, By Homer."
Jordan: So be it...
Homer: I too indulged in these so called "dumplings." Mine were not fried; they were a massive cake-like-contraption, with little to no taste. It was like someone had supersized a noodle, shoved it under my oxtails and decided I should eat it. It really did not add anything to my dish, and furthermore, I was under the impression that anything with a cute little name like "dumplings" should be small and cute and mischievous. These were bulky and ugly and totally non mischievous. Fin.
Jordan: And now…the wonderfully one armed, truly titillating, dastardly democratic, the foodsical stylings of PETE !!!
Pete: Hey guys.
Jordan: What did you think of Caribbean Delights??
Pete: The path of the jerk…goat… in particular… very… cohesive, very… sexy! (Pete’s interview was edited for content and to fit in the time allowed.)
Jordan: Very good. Thanks Pete. Homer, brownness??
Homer: I am going to have to say, radioactive yellow, the same color of Pete’s dish. Is that a form of brown?
Jordan: It is today!
Homer: One final note. Try the cornmeal pudding. It puts the ding back in pudding.
Jordan: Bye friends! Remember to check back for more updates. Leave us comments and suggestions here or send to brownonthetowne@gmail.com. We're still waiting for people to send us cool stuff for the "cool stuff" contest.
Judging by the traffic on the site, many of you must be anxiously awaiting the next restaurant review. I don't blame you. I know Homer, I know me... we're both awesome, and what we write ends up being the offspring of the awesome.
I am sad to inform you that Brown on the Towne will not have a new restaurant review up until early next week. In fact we will have TWO, that's right, TWO new adventure logs to share with you.
So why must you wait a little longer....? Because of this website.
Not really. Its the end of the semester. Homer and I have law school, grad school crap to do.
Remember, send us cool stuff to brownonthetowne@gmail.com!
