Crush Wine Bar

Carr's Restaurant has a wine cellar atmosphere with good grub. It's nice enough in the winter—an angular wooden bar cuts under the stairs that descend from street level and the colorful walls and comfort food make you forget any blizzard that might be raging above. But when summer light glows against the orange bricks of Central Market, you really should be upstairs, sitting along the sawtooth windows of Crush Wine Bar and enjoying a panorama of small-town street life.

Crush is a kaleidoscope-themed cubby-hole at the junction of Central Market, Lancaster Dispensing Company and a busy parking lot. It is part of Carr's Restaurant, and Tim Carr will prepare you the same mouthwatering burger and fries (or pork & sauerkraut with apple fritters) there that he serves downstairs. 

You will also have an intimate selection of unusual beers, including the latest offering from Lancaster's understated artisanal brewers, Fetish. Much of their product is distributed CSA-style, by invitation only, but Crush carries a handsome variety. You may even be served by one of the Fetishists, Aaron Risser, who occasionally tends bar.

Except for an after-work rush, Crush is often strangely quiet. Enjoy it—it won't last. Tim plans to expand his dining operations upstairs, taking over the former Tamanend Winery tasting room, and Crush will be mashed in the mix. 

Here's to hoping that the new blend of space keeps a bit of the lonely comfort and quirky personality of the old.

http://www.carrsrestaurant.com/winebar.cfm

 

La Borimex

The Borimex website looks a lot like the restaurant: homey, hodgepodge and authentically Latin American. 

“Borimex” is a fusion of Mexican and boricua, or Puerto Rican. You’re literally eating in a Latin grocery. Bottles of salsa, candy, party favors and bags of corn flour line the walls. Before you sit you can grab a Jarritos or other soda from the fridge in the corner. The service is prompt and polite. The food comes out hot and fast. The bistek is not the chewy kind passed off as authentic (the way Old El Paso passes for refried beans at so many “Mexican” restaurants). The beans are runny and black and served with crema. There is no food coloring in the “Spanish rice.” Even the meat-filled chilis rellenos are dripping with cheese and favor. Two house salsas—including a spicy, smoky red—are perfect for adjusting the thermostat. 

But what makes La Borimex special is where it sits. Look out the front window, and you’ll see a Lancaster County farm. Sit on the back patio and you’ll see another farm. Like a Latino UFO, La Borimex has landed in Ephrata. But it’s no alien—this county has more Latinos than Amish. We just need more real Latino restaurants.

http://laborimex.com/

Tomato Pie Cafe

I couldn’t understand how anyone could tolerate a tomato pie, or why someone would want to squelch her business prospects by naming a cafe after one. Then I tried the Tomato Pie Cafe’s tomato pie. Twice: I also ordered it for dessert. It is remarkable.  

For those as lost as I was, let me bear witness: it is a savoury pie. It is not a custard pie (like pumpkin); it has a buttery, herbed crust, a generous melting of oily cheese, big hearty chunks of mild tomato (and sometimes extras like spinach or artichoke), and I suspect some dollops of ricotta. About the only thing bad I can say about it is that, unless you get it right out of the oven, it’s served warm, not hot. And sometimes the juicy innards inevitably sog up the flaky bottom. But this is like faulting Jesus for having a foreign accent. It is a heavenly pie.  

Regal rooibos lattes at Tomato Pie Cafe

How appropriate, then, that I have spent several lovely Sundays at the Tomato Pie Cafe, sitting at a high table by the window, or at the counter, in the garden or blinking in the sunlight of the second floor balcony, gazing reverently across the street at the stone buildings beside historic Lititz Springs Park. In addition to sandwiches with beets and breakfast specials with sausage and fennel, or buttermilk quinoa pancakes with whipped sage butter and maple syrup, Tomato Pie Cafe knows how to make a latte. In fact, they will make one with rich red rooibos (ROY-bus) tea that is fragrant and silky and a fraction of the caffeine.  

Brunch is my love language. Few things dismay me more than a lauded local joint with all the trappings of a fancy restaurant (price, decor, attitude) and nondescript food. And few things make me more grateful than wholesome, interesting breakfast options, served with casual consideration in a quirky house. Tomato Pie Cafe wins my (totally unofficial and just now instated) On Orange Restaurant of the Year Award.

http://www.tomatopiecafe.net/menu.html 
 

The Tomcat Cafe

Tomcat Cafe squats indifferently on a traffic-choked elbow of Route 422 in Sinking Spring, Pennsylvania. It may be the town’s only locally owned breakfast joint. Nearby competition includes Dunkin’ Donuts, McDonald’s and Friendly’s. On Father’s Day there was a one-hour wait for a two-top. 

We walked around the cemetery across the street. Somewhere nearby was the town’s namesake, a natural spring that periodically disappeared into the ground. We didn’t bother looking. Probably during one of its retreats it was paved over and a plaque put in its place.

Tomcat does not fret about appearances. Each table comes with a plastic container of UNO cards and a pump bottle of hand sanitizer. Pop icons are venerated on the bathroom walls. 

The menu is a phone book. Every possible combination of two dozen ingredients is listed with its own name (usually a song, movie or TV title) for each of the following categories: wraps, omelets, scrambles, sandwiches, crepes, pancakes, french toast. Then there are specials, and special specials, and special-special specials, and sides.

It’s ridiculous.

More absurd are the portion sizes, which make the all-you-can-eat buffet look like a promising model for self-restraint. No retiree or office worker should attempt to eat half of what they’re served at Tomcat. It’s indecent.

Indeed, I bet the cafe could save a ton of time, money and food by (a) cutting the portions in half, (b) cutting the menu in half, (c) cutting the styrofoam to-go boxes out completely. In the process, diners might think about how good their food is rather than how much they’re trying to jam down their throats.

But the Tomcat yawns and licks itself. It doesn’t care.

http://www.tomcatcafe.com/menu.html

Waltz Vineyard Bottle Shop

Manheim's Waltz Estate Winery has a bottle shop on Main Street in Lititz, with a cute little bar built for an awkward threesome. The cheerful newlyweds behind it last December served up four tastes of their best mediocre wine in plastic cups, which we paid for.

So far, no surprises. Whether by terroir or terrible taste, Pennsylvania wineries delight in making god-awful syrupy Jell-O-pop reds and, out of custom or misplaced pride, Pennsylvanians gulp them down grinning and ask for more. (No judgment here!)

What I didn't expect was to leave with a $40 bottle of 2010 Crow Woods Cabernet. This wine, they said, is so good they didn't even put it on their tasting menu (a backwards business tactic that apparently worked for me).

Several months and one special occasion later, I'm pleased to report that Waltz has managed to make the first Pennsylvania red wine I ever enjoyed. It's almost certainly not worth $40 a bottle, but it is light and dry without an astringent finish.

Cheers!

http://www.waltzvineyards.com/estate-wines.php

Lily's on Main

Lily's on Main has the most comfortable, classy dining space in Lancaster County, even with the oddly embossed moon-and-star ceiling panels and the cheaply framed art prints. When dusk falls, the glow of candles and immense faceted ceiling lamps make one forget that the Art Deco windows were installed in 1993 and afford only a wide view of Ephrata car traffic.

No, really, it's a beautiful space, and on some days atmosphere is almost as important as food and drink.

Which unfortunately weren't stellar. The sweetness of muddled cucumber, lime and mint all but obliterated Hendrick's Gin in the Spring Martini. The Man Up Manhattan embarrassed itself with cranberry juice and Drambuie.

In the Portuguese Mussels and Clams, the mussels and sausage were delicious. The sweetbread that came with the meal was not quite right for sopping up white wine and garlic butter.

Salads were green and fresh. My caesar shared its plate with roasted tomatoes and sausage on flatbread. Shepherd's pie was served in a very hot skillet. It was tasty, but to answer the rhetorical question on the menu: no, we needn't say anything.

My date's "New Orleans style" meatloaf had never been to the bayou.

The most striking thing about the evening was the pace of service. Although the room was half-full with no one else waiting, it took the hostess nearly 15 minutes to seat us.

While hanging out by the coat closet, we watched one woman leave swearing to never return, then overheard an argument between a server and our hostess over table assignments. We wondered if we were being punished for not making a reservation.

Speed picked up as the evening progressed. Dishes were cleared as we finished them; water and coffee got refilled unobtrusively. We felt taken care of and not rushed. "It's like service from a bygone era," we joked. "1993."

http://www.lilysonmain.com/

Of Boys and Burgers (Belvedere and Jethro's)

Monday nights are burger nights for at least two Lancaster restaurants: The Belvedere Inn on Queen and Lemon, and Jethro's Restaurant & Bar on Ruby and First. I know this because a bunch of friends convene at one of the two sites nearly every Monday night.

Meeting the group for drinks is a lesson in rules and exceptions. They are mostly bikers—both motorcycle and bicycle. They are coupled to smart, beautiful women—but Mondays are "men's fellowship," and they're drawn to the Belvedere like dogs to ice cream. Conversation can be eclipsed by mechanical problems and dirty jokes, or it can explode in opinion about film, food and fashion.

One integrating theme is craft. These guys appreciate well-designed, well-made stuff. Which is why, in a town full of "best" burgers, I venture to say that The Belvedere and Jethro's are doing something right.

• The Belvedere Inn
  The Belvedere has a sparkly, dark interior with bars and table seating on two levels, including an outdoor deck. Jamie Hornberger is often behind the downstairs bar on Monday nights, and keeps the spot popular with quick service and generous pours.
  
  Belvedere burgers are unusual. They are miniature "Kobe" sliders on steamed bao buns with spicy chili oil as a dipping sauce. Those of you who have read Larry Olmstead's exposés on Kobe beef will know that what the Belvedere serves is almost certainly not real Kobe, and if it were, the chef would not be grinding it into hamburger.
  
  It doesn't matter—that sh*t is delicious! Plus, on Monday nights you get each mini burger for a buck—a third of their regular price. It's gotten so bad that Jamie doesn't bother asking what we want; we just give him a number.

• Jethro's Restaurant & Bar
  Jethro's is a comfortable neighborhood hangout with food a cut above. On Mondays co-owner Bob Esbenshade is behind the bar. Their drink specials—the Manhattan, the Hot and Dirty Martini and the unlisted margarita with mezcal—are special indeed.
  
  The Jethro's burger is not so much of a patty as it is a round. It arrives sizzling hot with a side of mixed veggies, oozing natural juices and flavor.
  
  The only mistake you can make is trying to eat it like a burger. The two dry slices of French bread that flank it are for decoration only. My one attempt at getting teeth around a Jethro's sandwich sent a fountain of hot grease and myoglobin flying across the table, nearly drowning my buddy's new iPhone.

Neither restaurant asks you what temperature you want your meat. This is a relief, since most burger joints will overcook your order anyhow.  

For Jethro's and the Belvedere, I take it as a sign of cockiness befitting a guys' night out. Like Steve Jobs said, "People don't know what they want until you show it to them."

http://www.belvederelancaster.com/menu.html
http://www.jethrosrestaurantandbar.com/menu.pdf