Green Street- Tom Wolfe was right....

That wag of waggotry, Tom Wolfe once boldly proclaimed "You can't go home again, because home is gone." The tripple extra large one hates it when effete New yorkers in white suits are correct. It's so annoying.

In any case, he of the double chins had a long relationship with Green Street Restaurant in Pasadena dating back to the pre-historic times when Green Street was actually a marvelous little hole in the wall ON GREEN STREET, and not bunker in the bottom part of a parking garage. In those bygone days, the kitchen was fully visable from the dinning area, and the dinning area was upholstered in green brocades whose patterns were almost Arts and Crafts and reminded one of a deep forest just as spring is about to turn to summer, full of dense over growth and small budding flowers. That little hole in the wall was never equalled for atmosphere, in spite of many remodels and attempts to do something interesting at the bunker in bottom of the parking garage.

The Fat Man, of course, continued to dine at Green Street for sometime, since he goes for the food, not the atmosphere. Of course, the signature Dianne Salad with Zucchini bread remained a favorite decade after decade, along with the knockwurst, sour cream, avacado and mushroom on grilled bread delight called Stephan's Sandwich, that in spite of the unfortunate spelling, I almost made my favorite for the better part of the early Clinton years.

Something happened. Maybe it was boredom at what one were fresh and exciting recipies now repeated once too many times, or perhaps it was the fourth soggy stale Dianne salad in a row that was the death knell, but the lovely Jeanette and I stopped darkening the door of Green Street. Steak and Dianne wasn't even remotely tempting.

A little flier somehow got to us in the mail noting our anniversary and inviting us to try new dishes at Green Street. Having been married for some twenty seven years, it seemed like some kind of sychronic idea to try something new at an old familiar place.

Jeanette had the new "Smoke and Fire Quesidilla" and I had a "Turkey Tostada" and we shared a "Cherry tart". He of enthusiastic tongue and ever expanding roundness was looking forward to something new and wonderful at Green Street. Damn that Tom Wolfe guy.

Jeanette's Smoke and Fire Quesidilla was made of smoked Gouda cheese, chicken, roasted chiles, and onion. It had potential. The potential wasn't lived up to. This dish was as bland as a LA Suburb in the fifties kind of Quesidilla. Boring. How can you make a boring Quesidilla?

As Jeanette's tongue was searching for something to excite one of her taste buds and finding nothing, I was vainly attempting to enjoy my Turkey Tostada. I don't know, but somehow when the words "Turkey Tostada" enter my brain, I think of CHUNKS of Turkey simmered perhaps in some warm spice, lots of cranberry raisins, some onion, a dash of zing, some flair, some oh I don't know, something hot and latin- like maybe a cranberry chipolte vinegrette.... Oh no. Not here.

Here at Green Street, once known for the bold daring innovative and succulent, we have paper thin flavorless sliced turkey, a spare miserable sprinkling of cranberry raisins, lots of crunch tortilla remnants sliced into quarter inch by one and a quarter inch and dried to bone dry and flavorless, and an errant stray green onion all tossed in a Ranch Sauce so boring it may honestly have been rejected Miracle Whip. It was more bland and more boring than Jeanettes Quesidilla. Dullsville baby, way beyond L 7. I almost went to sleep from the boredom eating it.

So we were disappointed in the food. Our waiter asked if we would like to try the Cherry Torte and being cheerful people who love a good pastry and were searching for a happy ending to this sorry lunch, we jumped at the chance and even ordered with the A La Mode vanilla ice cream. We figured no one could mess up a cherry torte, and admittedly, we had hopes, anticipation even.

The torte arrived a pastry engulfed in whipped cream and yellowed vanilla ice cream. The vanilla iced cream was devine, full of vanilla flavor and it had a lovely smooth but stiff texture,good stuff , alas it was not to be so for the torte. The pastry had been rubberized by a trip to the microwave. As any imbicile will tell you, pastry and a microwave are a culinary disaster, yeilding to rubberized awful puff pastry. This was. Then the cherry filling was sweet and full of corn syrup. Not a trace anywhere to be found of cherry tartness, no firm fruit texture, just oversweet gel and overcooked lifeless, textureless cherries. I hope they bought this as a day old,but most day olds at the Dutch Oven Bakery in Altadena are far superior to this disaster. We didn't finish dessert. Thats right, dear Reader, the lovely Jeanette and he of tripple chins left the majority of the pastry on the plate. We did get the last of the ice cream.

The latest remodel is the best since Green Street has been confined to the Parking garage, but I won't be going there again. I almost took Jeanette to Musso & Frank's in Hollywood for mushroom omelettes with the wild mushroom sauce, and for the nearly fifty bucks we spent at Green Street, that would have been a better and cheaper alternative.

I must admit, the service at Green Street was excellent, had they only servedc me something worth the calories, my money and my time... Oh, and the Zucchini bread is back to its old standards and worth ordering again- now if only they would do that for the rest of the menu.

So at Green Street you can't go home again, but at Musso's you can!

Green Street Restaurant
146 Shoppers Lane
Pasadena
626 577 7170