• Cheree Franco
• Jalapeno burger and veggie sandwich

EJ's has been in its current downtown location, on the corner of 6th and Center streets, for six years. But it feels rooted there, homey and comfortable, like it's been around for decades. There's a big bar with a healthy selection of beer on tap and always, a lunchtime crowd filling the tight tables. I've walked by and wondered about EJ's Eats and Drinks many times, so today a friend and I decided to stop. The menu is comprised of sandwiches, salads and burgers, but something about the friendliness of that bar seemed to suggest that we start with a deep fried appetizer. So we had the day's special, colby, cream cheese and poblano ragoons, served with a side of housemade ranch. Our ragoons arrived in about five minutes — a plate of six crispy orange fritters that looked like a crosses between potato logs and eggrolls. The wonton shell was perfectly fried — none of that grease-saturated business that turns us away from actual eggrolls — but our first bite leaked a creamy, rich concoction that was more akin to nacho topping than we anticipated. (The menu board hadn't mentioned the cream cheese bit, so we'd been thinking something more like poppers. And yeah, if that's what you're thinking, just don't.) The poblano is a mild, sweet chile, with no real kick to cut the heaviness. After an initial taste, we knew we couldn't handle this odd American take on Chinese-Mexican fusion, were it dripping with the thick, pungent, housemade ranch that came with. The ranch was pungent and well flavored, but the concoction was way too oozy and rich. We also knew that we would have enjoyed our ragoons much more with beer.

The lunch menu offers sandwiches, burgers, soups and salads. And the classic veggie sandwich, the only veggie sandwich, reads a bit like an afterthought, with a list of ingredients you might expect from a three-buck veggie sub at a popular chain restaurant. We ordered the jalapeno burger and, because I wasn't in the mood for soup and salad, the classic veggie sandwich. My friend expected to adore the burger. I didn't expect much at all from the classic veggie. We were both wrong.

The veggie sandwich was delicious, primarily because it tasted so fresh. There was lettuce, tomato, sprouts, mushrooms, salty black olives, chunky bell pepper, avocado and deli slices of provolone and mozzarella. I think it was the bun, a soft split-top hoagie, that truly made the sandwich, and the fact that the whole thing was well-doused with a tangy vinaigrette.

The burger was a little disappointing, though. It came on another standout, split-top bun, and the jalapenos and chipotle ensured loads of flavor, but the meat tasted rushed. The burger was dry, veering on the thoroughly-cooked side of medium, without any attention-grabbing seasoning. (It was also fairly grisly.)

Both plates were served with piles of EJ's famous homemade chips, which we loved — but we suggest working from the bottom up. We ordered the ranch chips and jalapeno chips, and quickly learned to avoid any chip with visible flavor powder. The chips themselves are fantastic — thin sliced, chewy in the middle, crispy on the edges. But the primary ingredient in all the flavors (which seem to be shaken on just before serving) must be salt. The top chips were so salty that we found them nearly inedible. But when we dug beneath the heap, we discovered the shiny, yummy specialty that will bring us back to EJ's.

EJ's hours are 10:30 a.m. - 9:00 p.m. Mon. -Thurs., extended till 10 p.m. on Friday's. It's closed Saturdays and Sundays. Sandwiches and burgers run about $8.

• Cheree Franco
• The Tuxedo pasta at Dizzy's

Dizzy's isn't far from the old Fortress of Employment, and I've never had a bad experience there. Usually I can't get behind big, boxy restaurants, but Dizzy does a great job of summoning atmosphere...or maybe it's just that, growing up a mere skip from New Orleans, I'm a sucker for that purple, green and gold Mardi Gras color-scheme. I love the wine bottle bar chandeliers almost as much as I love the over-sized baubles dangling from the dining room ceiling, and it's always fun to see which of the (actually painted) masterwork replicas we can identify by name and artist. I also really appreciate that some pastas are available as half-orders.

So a friend and I stopped in for lunch yesterday, and as usual, nothing disappointed. First off, Dizzy makes everything to order, so bring your friends with nontraditional diets! Every pasta dish can go vegetarian and some can go vegan. (A gluten-free coworker also eats there frequently, although I doubt she's ordering pasta...)

We had the Grilled Buffalo Mozzarella sandwich and a half-order of The Tuxedo pasta, both of which come with an appetizer salad. I recommend the house-made Black Truffle dressing, a tangy, sweet vinaigrette with only a slight hint of earthy truffle. Try it if you like vinaigrette. If not, go with the creamy Peppery Parmesan.

The Tuxedo has farfalle (bowtie) pasta tossed with succulent chunks of grilled chicken, salty black olives, juicy artichoke hearts and a mixture of marinara and alfredo sauce. Talk about comfort food! The Tuxedo is a nice, somewhat subtle blend of flavors and textures. The most accessible, evenly distributed flavor is garlic, and both my friend and I dug the mix of marina and alfredo. It made the whole event lighter than an alfredo pasta has any right to be (major plus in our book), and it was the perfect blend of savory and sweet, creamy but not congealed. The chicken was incredibly tender and moist, cooked so soft that it disintegrates on your fork.

The Buffalo Mozzarella is nicely seared — warm, but not steaming, which means the marbled rye remains crispy and the tomato remains plump. The sandwich is super light — just the right lunch size — but the protein punch of the mozzarella meant I was well-sustained throughout the afternoon. For such a dainty affair, there's loads of flavor — whole fresh basil, chopped spinach and onions and a nutty pesto mayo. The mild, very fresh buffalo mozzarella was a nice carrier for the more powerful accents (sharp garlic, clean, sweet basil), although one of my favorite things about buffalo mozzarella is how deceptive it is. There's more flavor there than you think, it just takes a moment for the fullness to reveal itself. A sprinkle of parmesan tops the sandwich, adding a sharp, savory kick.

So yeah, really, I have no criticisms or suggestions to offer. Dizzy's, keep up the good work!

• Cheree Franco
• Red Pepper Gouda soup at Big Whisky's

I find myself in the highly unusual (for me, at least) position of having sampled two bowls of cheese soup, roughly a block apart, in the space of a single week. Thought I’d pass along notes, in case anyone downtown is craving cheese soup and needs help making an informed decision. (If anyone knows of other cheese soups, please give a shout. Somehow this week’s accidental duplicity has made discovering the perfect bowl of cheese soup feel like a personal mission.)

Today’s Red Pepper Gouda at Big Whiskey’s is some of the finest cheese soup I’ve ever tasted, and I bet that it’d be even better with a dark beer. But there was this little thing called work that usually follows my weekday lunches, so I abstained. The Gouda has a sharp, smoky flavor, and the soup’s texture is thick and creamy, retaining more of a “melted cheese” quality rather than the gelled ooze that can be so unappealing with cheese dip and sundry cheesy products. In fact, the texture was a little chewy in places, like the cheese had been sawed off the wheel and melted down unevenly in the pot.

I’ve also had a recent bowl of Spicy Beer Cheese soup from Flying Saucer — “housemade with an English brown ale,” according to the menu. What the menu doesn’t tell you is that, primarily, you’re ordering a bowl of crusty bread with a healthy doll-up of cheese dip in the center. Yep, I found the spicy beer soup to be somewhat exceptional cheese dip, but cheese dip none the less, and for inexplicable reasons, cheese dip freaks me out. More precisely, the plastic, gloopy texture of cheese dip (shared by this soup) freaks me out. But the soup also had juicy hunks of roasted red pepper and a generous dose of cayenne pepper, offset with a nutty hint of brown ale. And the bread was soft, thick, spongy and delicious, even though I couldn’t bring myself to consume a whole bowl of it. (In my experience, polishing off an entire bread bowl is never for the faint of heart).

• Cheree Franco
• Spicy Beer Cheese Soup

In both (all?) cases, a little cheese soup goes a long way. Both soups are priced between $5.50 and $6. Let me know if there are others out there.

• Cheree Franco
• The Garden

I've heard so much about the awarding-winning Garden sandwich at Jimmy's Serious Sandwiches that I decided to stop in for a quick lunch yesterday. Little did I realize, Jimmy's at noon on a weekday is not entirely conducive to buzzing in, buzzing out. Every table was full, and it seems those in the know call their orders in. I ordered my sandwich and was handed a number — 35, yikes. But the wait went quickly (ten minutes on the bench by the door, perusing the aptly placed Arkansas Times), and then I had my styrofoam lunch box in hand: one The Garden with a side of tomato barley soup.

Worth the wait. Worth the wait. D-e-f-i-n-i-t-e-l-y worth the wait. Soft, sharp pumpernickel bread, salty-gooey cheese, loads of fresh-tasting sauteed green stuff (spinach pate, according to the menu), slick mushrooms, crunchy sunflower seeds and earthy sprouts. Warm, comforting, slightly oily and perfectly hearty — this sandwich gets everything right. (Of course, I'd go with a wee handful of extra sunflower seeds, but the skimping is forgivable, considering that post-consumption, I found myself in a happy-just-to-be-here state).

The tomato barley soup was also good, but after The Garden, it's barely worth mentioning. It had a strong rosemary flavor, which I appreciated, but the stock was a little thin. It did host lots of barely, another plus. My first encounter with Jimmy's, on a sunny Spring-is-coming day, was very pleasant.

• Cheree Franco
• Tomato barley soup