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.
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