Tangerine fusion + sushi bar
Savannah, GA
Look for Logan’s Roadhouse on Abercorn, near the mall acres.
Without that landmark the restaurant behind the roadhouse would have a real problem with directions. An orange colored sign (ok, tangerine, I get it) will locate the venue once you get off the thoroughfare.
The wait staff is informed and attentive.
Personable and comfortable.
Never reticent.
ret·i·cent adj – unwilling to communicate very much, talk a lot, or reveal all the facts.
Enjoy your new word.
Use it, don’t be reticent. <- tee hee! Tangerine.jpg
. . . 3, 2, 1, . . . begin reading fiction now:
(click for extended version)

An old frat brother from college was in town with an expense account, Brother Toad Koong King.
His pledge class nicknamed him Too Poonmug. A real tool, we just pledged him for his math skills (and his dues, of course). That plan to enhance our math scores met with opposition from the Seniors for reasons of appearances (he really is a tool) but by using the rush motto “Pass the math finals and pledge Too Poonmug!” we got him a bid. And a nickname. And thus, a life. Because seriously, name anyone that is cool who does NOT have a nickname? Anyone? Anyone? You can’t.
How did he even find me? Well, let’s just say that ol’ bigtime (moi) is quite digital and ol’ Poonmug spends a lot of time online. A LOT. He said these days he covers the third shift 7 days a week at some California startup and for fun is involved with a few weekend IM groups. He pines away for the days of Usenet. Yep, yearns for back in the day of “on the Internet no one knows you’re a dog”, an early 1990s New Yorker phrase made just for our tool Too Poonmug. Pre-gif, pre-jpeg, darn Netscape browser really took the wind out of his sails! Imagine a dude that was doing better before Internet dating! He probably uses his real name online! Egads!
He proudly displayed his crackberry, and I’ll hand it to him, it’s state of the art. But Dude, it was fully charged with zero mssgs, and it didn’t go off once while he was buying my dinner. Hope no one saw me with that vacuum.
We talked and caught up. Short report from his side of the booth. Seems that no one has stayed in touch with ol’ Too Poonmug! Naturally, because he’s such a serious tool. True! Don’t blame me, he’s the one that’s a tool.
Anyhow, look at me!
How did I end up sitting here with this tool in a booth of a casually elegant restaurant on a rainy night in February. Go figure. When P-mug phoned, the first thing he said to me was that he was on an expense account so I figured what the hey, it’s raining, nobody will see me and I knew I could make P-mug drive. Some things never change.
The wait-staff told us that we’d just missed Happy Hour.
Rub it in!
Why bother saying “you just missed” something good unless you’re going to do something about it, like let one Happy Hour drink slide our way?
We began a pattern of taking the recommendations of the waitress.
First stop: Tini-town, main platform: a Tangerine-tini.
The martini was a good starter, not too strong. The second round (much later in the meal) was noticeably stronger than the first. I prefer a more consistent pour because my brain starts revving up in a worry: “is the bartender judging my buzz and ability to cope? Did I get ripped-off on the first fruity pour? “ Is there a sliding scale, like the first one is light, then each additional increment gets stronger and stronger? Who decides these things?
P-mug wanted to spilt a shellfish appetizer. So I got soup. No need to suck up to ol’ Too P-mug anymore since there are no math finals in the real world.
Nice soup! Lemongrass talay, a hot and sour. Emphasizing my persona (a girl once called me the essence of a class act), I restrained myself from lifting the bowl and drinking the broth and joining the clean plate club, uh, clean soup bowl club. Would large mugs or a deep noodle style bowl be gauche? Celebrate the food and enjoy it, don’t create barriers to ingesting! The soup bowls are a lovely display but are not the most functional form for full-on chowing down on somebody else’s dime. Yet even through all this, I remained calm as is befitting my classiness.
Didn’t ask P-mug about his seafood appetizer but it looked great!
Next stop, I got a sushi roll! Remember, he’s expensing all this.
The dragon roll had a fine visual presentation and was another recommendation of the staff.
Before we could dabble with the dragon, our entrées came out.
Not that we were planning a Euro style rent-the-table-for-the-night social session, but the table was barely post-soup and I was just starting my sushi appetizer. So we re-arranged the plates to fit the feast in front of us. That timing could use a bit of work, but hey, I salivated, swallowed hard, and got back to work putting away the chow. Trouper that I am. And class act. More time eating, less chat time with P-mug, I say.
Next, entrée time: Kobe beef and seared ahi tuna.
Washugu – Kobe beef
Of course the Kobe beef was tender, well prepared, and lush. They have the cows sit in a massage chair all day and when they slaughter the cows they put blindfolds on them. A Kobe never knows what hits ‘em! Hey, that’s a pretty clever saying.
Sauces served with the Kobe beef were perhaps so very nuanced that they’d nuanced themselves out of my palate range. But I’m glad there were sauces because that’s classy. The French do sauces, you know.
Or were the sauces for the lobster that stowed away on the Kobe beef plate? The waitress placed my Kobe beef plate and said “lobster comes with it” but I didn’t know I was getting Kobe surf-n-turf. Cool! Now I was really sticking it to ol’Too Poo’d. I hope he makes bank in that cubicle he lives in.
Seared ahi tuna. Nicely done. Nice visual on the plate. It was his entrée but I ate my fair half, since I’d recommended the place.
The vegetables were a welcome addition, fresh and not overly played with, a welcome balance to the other rich foods.
The rice was perfect in taste, texture, and aroma. Perhaps the rice should get more attention? Some diners may overlook the rice as routine pedestrian rice but this is a rice eating area. We obsess! At least once a day, eat your rice. Remember: “Savannah natives are just like the Chinese, we eat rice daily and worship our ancestors”.
Reality check Bro – this is actually a Charleston, SC quote but we’re going to repurpose it for Savannah, G-A. Don’t tell the Chucktown snots.
Dessert – Fried bananas with whipped cream. A hit. Not sugary sweet, flavored with banana and strawberry. Crunchy fried exterior with warm soft ‘nanas tucked all up in there. Could it be an aphrodisiac? Something was going on, if you know what I mean, and I think that you do. Or maybe I was anticipating a chance to ditch my dining companion and salvage the evening with one of the hotties I keep on speed-dial. So, made a few phone calls, just to show P-mug how it’s done. Scored on the 4th dial and told my host and driver (once a pledge always a pledge) that I’d need to be dropped off after he bought me a few more Tangerine-tini’s. And after a try at the phone number of the waitress. I’m thinking she’s yummy and she thinks I got bucks.
Don’t remember if P-mug got any dessert but I’m sure it was good. By this time I was ready to send him back to his hotel and get busy on the night.
Nice place, they have an orchid flower on every plate. I pocketed a few in my raincoat for my next stop.
:: End Fictional Transmission ::
i.e.: don’t blame me