The police aren't on to him––yet. But Capone can't leave anything to chance. He's bullet-proofed the hardwood floors with sand. He's dug secret tunnels, and rigged escape hatches on the roof. Despite his preparations, though, he never feels quite secure. With a final glance over his shoulder, he heads to the stone patio to kick back some contraband suds with Dillinger.
A lot of stories like this one fly around High Point restaurant, where the digging of the tunnels in the basement may or may not have been funded by Al Capone. Though these rumors are gospel to owners Ron and Jama Turner, they make sure that their eatery offers visitors more than just stories. Listed on the National Register of Historic Places, the three-story compound brings to mind a quaint ski lodge with its large courtyard and verdant hedges. Inside, the dining room is flooded with natural light from large bay windows, and a floor-to-ceiling stone fireplace sits atop the original 1920s hardwood floors.
Then, there's the food. At dinnertime, dark wood tables populate with fresh seafood and steaks in wine and butter sauce. The menu also bespeaks bayou influence, with zesty preparations of jambalaya, crawfish, and New Orleans–style barbecue shrimp. While spooling seafood pasta around their forks, patrons can question servers about High Point's catering services or question the owners about whether the fountain out front was ever used by Capone to make homemade gin.
The patty sculptors at Your Burger hand-form locally raised beef, Alaskan salmon, and vegan-friendly veggies into juicy patties crowned with a farmers’ market’s worth of local produce. Available at a buffet, toppings such as crisp onions, cool lettuce, and plump tomatoes hide and enhance certified Angus or grass-fed patties, just as footie pajamas both hide and enhance the existence of a person's flippers. Sides of sweet-potato fries and onion rings round out casual American meals, as staffers blend up creamy hand-dipped shakes and scoops of Edy's ice cream, providing a more pleasantly frosty epilogue than a cryogenically frozen narrator.
Just as Your Burger's patties outpace stereotypical burgers, its decor transcends typical quick-service eateries. An exposed stone divider cordons off the open kitchen, allowing guests to watch their meals being flipped as they recline near the purple-and-orange Edy's counter.
Diners flip their own flapjacks at The Pfunky Griddle, where every oversize table is topped with its own grill. Unlimited ladles of organic five-grain and unbleached white batter sizzle to golden-brown before they're sprinkled with such toppings as coconut flakes, peanut butter, and blueberries. The menu also accommodates special diets with options for gluten-free, dairy-free, or vegan batter. Chef-made sandwiches—such as a blue-cheese-and-roast-beef wrap—can also be constructed with gluten-free bread upon request.
If The Pfunky Griddle's menu emphasizes homey comforts, the decor channels the great outdoors. Painted trees and blades of grass adorn the walls, and tangled branches traverse the ceiling, bringing to mind a rugged forest campsite or that time you watered all your houseplants with Muscle Milk. A skylight lets in ample sunshine on a spacious back deck.
Since its first restaurant—literally a small, converted shack—opened in 1980, Uncle Bud's has filled its menu of Southern-style eats with golden-brown morsels of fried catfish, chicken, and shrimp. Succulent strips of chicken are breaded by hand before plunging into the deep fryer, and everything from catfish fillets and frog legs to wild-gator tails pile onto dishes such as the Bayou platter. The scent of fried po’ boys fills the dining area, which is decorated with license plates and vintage camping supplies, where patrons can happily slake their hunger or pack up carryout containers with family-size helpings large enough to feed an entire terracotta army.
Though Mexico is our neighbor, O.K. Jose's menu is extensive enough to read like a letter to a long-lost relative. In the kitchen, cooks top grilled nachos with shrimp and chorizo, stuff tortillas with spicy chicken and sauteed onions, and smother baked potatoes with cheese sauce and salsa. On karaoke nights, guests take a break from their meals to belt out tunes into a microphone topped with guacamole and sour cream.
During the evening, 3 Brothers Deli and Brewhouse exudes the warm glow of an after-hours hangout, one where friends congregate and the faint din of chatter spills out into the parking lot every time the front door swings open. But it wasn't always this way. According to BoroPulse.com, just 100 days after brothers Rob and Eric Fortney opened their first Italian deli, it burned to the ground. Rather than throw in the towel, they spent half a year retooling and plotting a grand reopening that surpassed all their earlier ambitions. And this is what they came up with. The rebuilt and expanded 3 Brothers Deli and Brewhouse beckons loyal regulars to sip 1 of more than 60 beers or premium spirits while tackling a massive signature hoagie or pasta dinner. In a back room, a salacious lamp inspired by A Christmas Story illuminates a small collection of arcade games, including a pinball machine and a miniature bowling game designed to be played with tiny balls or unripe plums. In addition to these fun-filled diversions, the pub entertains guests throughout the week with a schedule of live music, open mic nights, and other events.