Now this is a pitched battle we would like to see:
In the left corner, Mike Nagrant: Eater-about-town and Ludicrously proficient writer.
In the right corner, Darwensi. Foul-mouthed dudebro and Chicago Glutton.
The issue at stake: Yats.
As we all recall, Nagrant eviscerated the newbie Cajun/Creole resto in a NewCity review, using phrases so pointed and piquant that we are reluctant to revisit them and potentially spoil our lunch. On the other hand, the Chicago Gluttons review is all sunshine and unicorns! Erm, in a manner of speaking. (Because this is a family blog, we are censoring out the more choice vowels and consonants. Asterisks ours):
It ain’t no muhf***in fire drill at Yats; these kids slang flavors like Sysco Foods slangs frozen buffalo wings. Every flavor in the dish is clean, not muddled. Cajun spices are balanced by layering at various stages during creation of the dish which yields a flow of flavors. Taking a bite of a Yats dish is much like slamming the last bowl from a box of Count Chocula. You get the marshmallows AND the toy. Any haters out there that think its not possible to have that cake and eat it too? Well, its time for you to step the f*** off.
God, we love reading these reviews. Seriously and truly, with no hint of sarcasm, this is one of our favorite blogs to read of all time. After some really excellent description of the food, the review concludes:
We’re going bless Yats with our gold placard of Solid Food Goldness, but unfortunately doesn’t exist yet, so hold tight Joe. Utmost props for creating a product and making that sh** f***ing correct. Lastly, a welcome to the fine city of Chicago. We can’t wait for January when you will electric blanket our cold souls.
There is only one way to resolve this battle, of course, and that is for us to visit Yats ourself and to weigh in on the matter. Because we are the supreme judge of all that is good and evil, delicious and disgusting, for sure. But also, seriously, we would kind of pay money to see Nagrant and Darwensi fight f’reals. Like with fists. Maybe cudgels. Admit it: You’d pay.
[Photo of a groaning table at Yats via Chicago Gluttons]