Right On For The Darkness

Yea, Curtis Mayfield said it best: right on for that darkness.  No doubt, if I could have shit my way on the daily, Id skip on breakfast and lunch to gorge my orifices with items offa unlimited selection of dinner plates.  Something like Old Country Buffet without the sub-par Sysco flavors and 4 year old brats screaming for more soft serve.  I’m a brudda who steady co-signs on meals accompanied by candlelight, bottles of red wine, and hearty ass entrees, so the shit I’m bout to speak on is all me.

I’ve lived/traveled in various places across the globe, but fah real…there’s no fucking place like Uptown.  Many people lament that this ungentrifiable community is where crazy was born; consistently breeding mayhem on the steady.  On Sheridan Road, between Argyle and Carmen, there is a restaurant which greets brown bagged malt-brew and slurred speech with a smile.  The place is called Tweet.  On February 6th, this neighborhood brunch spot opened its doors at 5:30pm to do something it hadn’t done in years: serve dinner.  Yes, we have covered Tweet’s culinary terrorism befo, but the reincarnation of post meridiem eats deserves considerable merit and re-up.

After a thick greeting and fist pounds to explosion, we fell into the family reunion that was popping off like some July 4th, Hyde Park shit.  Robust convi and elation was spread, comical comments were made about the wait staff donned in all black, and Uptown-drunkenness became compulsory.  We willingly caught up on liquids to even the scoreboard with our fellow diners.  In order to avoid stomach alienation, we ordered somethang to munch on.

Yessir, we shelled out abuse on the grilled calamari like West Virginia step-dads, gobbling up the roasted goodness, quickly abating all table-side manners.  The squid was properly marinated in olive oil, S&P, and then nestled down wit some mesculin greens and balsamic.  A tru seafood sesh.

Its tru yunguns, the weather might be warm as hell these days, but here in Chi-City we never shift too far from chicken soup.  In typical Tweet fashion, the shit was on time.  Chicken stock, carrots, spinach and the essential mouth-fuck for all hearty soups: cheese tortellini’s.  Classic supper club shit.

Our desire was to get deep like R. Kelly on the mains.  Ole Rary’s advice has always been that you gotta just buck-the-dumb-shit and order up the most expensive things on the menu.  We held close to this ordering philosophy like Mr. Miyagi did Karate Kid.  Plate one was the 10oz. New York strip steak served with Tweet’s special rub of rosemary and garlic and some udda shits.  When it comes to my meat, I’m on the Ruth Chris side of the spectrum…I want my meat big, bold and gnarly.  My meat must inflict pain on me like Chet & the ol’ 96er.  Tweet avoided fu-fu style butchery by keeping 90% of the fat on their cuts of meat; body and character flowed from the steak like fat kids bleed marshmallow fluff.

Surprisingly dough, plate two, which featured grilled salmon topped with bruschetta sauce, took the heavyweight belt for the evening.  The fish was buttery, moist, and flaky…reminding  me of my freshman roommate at Ball State.  I quickly deduced that these kats must be taking weekly trips to see the fish guy, cuz this goodness was for damn sure NOT coming from the Dominick’s on Foster Ave.

Tweet’s dinner is mos def for a select krew of supper club sluts.  The menu does not boast many cheap dishes, which can make for an awkward read when the bill hits the dining table.  What you do get are plates selected from a heavy hand alongside a family vibe, where Michelle Fire and her glorious wait staff (who also pull shifts ova at Sola) throw in mad love anna slice of red velvet cake if its your birfday.  If you haven’t spent much time in the neighborhood, its worth the jaunt to get some sundown food love from a team that truly rocks the best.  As days pass, this menu will most likely adapt to the seasons and mock its slim, flowing brunette haired, 6′ 4″ mama known as Tweet breakfast fare.  I implore you to avoid that 1100 SAT score shit and partake in the gluttony while everythang else simply to fades to black.