Billy's Bar and Grill

Out of all the gin joints in all the world, we had to walk into . . . BILLY’S.  Finally!!  OMG!!  BILLY’S!!  Billy’s, Billy’s, Billy’s, Billy’s . . . BILLY’S!!  Writing this piece I feel like one of Pavlov’s dogs waiting for the dinner bell.  I first stepped across the portal of this hallowed institution in the mid-‘70s and introduced the rest of the Tour to it a couple of years ago.  This led to the now famous Culinary Delights Tenderloin Tour of 2012 attempting to go where no man has gone before in search of the ultimate Pork Tenderloin sandwich.  Full circle.  What can you say?

Walking into the establishment today, located on the curve behind the Bunn Park Golf Course, was like entering a darkened sanctuary.  No, really, the lights were low and the curtains drawn due to problems with the air conditioning.  The overhead fans were doing a yeoman’s duty keeping the place habitable and it was more than tolerable (the A/C came on before we left).

First to arrive, I looked around for a table that could accommodate the five of us and headed that direction.  Before I could get there a somewhat raspy voice behind the bar said, “How many of you will there be?” followed quickly by “What will you have to drink, honey?”  Ah, home at last with Mom waiting on me hand and foot.

I said “Diet Pepsi?”  The response was quick and apologetic, “Sorry, I haven’t had a chance to shop today.  How about a Diet RC?”  RC, now there is a shot from the past.  “That would be great,” I respond.   “Be right up, honey.”  Ah, Mom.

The napkin-wrapped utensils and the RC arrive in two shakes quickly followed by the rest of the party.  After greetings were exchanged followed by the usual banter, the five members took a moment to once again soak in the atmosphere of Billy’s.  The place has changed little since the mid-‘70s when I first sampled their wares.  The dark paneling, the long bar with the games of chance, the indoor shuffleboard along the wall.  This is the classic neighborhood bar, home of the “best pork tenderloins” according to one of those lit from behind signs next to the bar.

“Mom” comes with the rest of the drink orders and now it is time to get down to business.  “Tenderloin with onion and pickle and fries,” I say.  Everyone else simply says what condiments they want.  No need for more.  She knows this crowd and Tenderloins are the order of the day.

While we are waiting, she delivers an order of the special of the day, fried chicken, to an adjoining table.  We eye it like Pavlov’s dogs once again.  It looks great, but it’s not tenderloins.  We wait.  

Finally, our traditionalist begins to softly whine as he senses our order emerge from the kitchen.  If tails were in place today they would be wagging around the table.  At last, Billy’s tenderloins.

There is a mad rush to grab the mustard, ketchup and mayonnaise on the table as everyone prepares their food just the way they like it.  One of the “Kids” in the group whines about the size of his sandwich.  “I always get the smallest tenderloin,” he says with a pout.  Wimp. 

 

I hope the guys at the next table weren’t startled by the groans and moans as we settled into the repast.  This was once again proof that Billy’s served the best tenderloins in the area.  The Wimp had to throw his two cents in that he thought it tasted like they fried the tenderloins in the same grease as the fried chicken and it affected the taste.  What a Wimp!  (I post all the reviews to the blog but we share the burden of writing the reviews.  I’m the “kid” affectionately referred to here as the “wimp.”  Although I could, I didn’t want to mar the authenticity of the author’s summation of this visit by changing the review because all the members of the TT12 agreed to it.  However, I want to remind the writer of this review of the purpose of our tour.  It is that we are to comment and pass judgment on our experiences of the tasty delights.  Two of the five areas we’re judging are size and taste.  Both of my comments on lack of size and familiar taste of chicken grease were warranted comments especially since the daily special was, in fact, fried chicken.  It would be good if the penman knew what is to be criticized before he criticizes those criticizing.)  As usual the serving was ample to more than ample.  The breading was just right and the sandwich was served with your choice of lettuce, tomato, pickle, onion, mustard, ketchup or mayonnaise (real mayonnaise).  It was even noticed that the bottled condiments were Gluten-free.  What more could you want?  The fries were crinkle-cut fries, but who noticed.  They were something to fill the gaps between bites of the tenderloin.  At $9.25 for the sandwich, fries and drink, it was not the cheapest we have had, but when you factor in the pleasure quotient this meal is cheap at any price.

As we close the door on the Tour for this summer, what better way could we send our young compatriot off to law school than with one last taste of the best Pork Tenderloin Sandwich in Springfield . . . Billy’s.

Want a knuckle sandwich?