The Flaming Ice Cube

Cleveland has a burgeoning restaurant culture, largely based here in Downtown and nearby Tremont, and spearheaded by top chefs like Michael Symon (Lola, B Spot), Zack Bruell (Chinato), and Jonathon Sawyer (Greenhouse Tavern). This culinary renaissance is a good thing for a Clevelander like me who wants to see quality establishments of all sorts in my city, but I have to admit that the places themselves aren't a huge draw for me personally. The top joints seem a little pricey for a cheapo like me, and my visits to Symon's (now closed) Bar Symon and Sawyer's Greenhouse Tavern were very underwhelming.

But that's OK, because I have The Flaming Ice Cube.

I love the Flaming Ice Cube. It's my favorite restaurant ever (with all due respect to Mad Mex and Lam's Oriental Cuisine), and not just because it's a vegan restaurant and I am, of course, a vegetarian. I've been to vegetarian/vegan places that I didn't think were very good, I assure you. I like the Flaming Ice Cube simply because virtually everything I've tried there is fantastically good (and very affordable). For my birthday dinner this year, there wasn't even a doubt in my mind where I was going - The Cube (or as Kim and I call it, "Cubo.") It didn't disappoint.

I do wonder a bit about the business aspect of The Cube, in part because I don't know anything about business. In fact, I think about the commercial aspect of FIC every time I go there, because I'm paranoid it's going to close. I hope they're doing well, because I'll be really upset if they don't stay in business. Why am I worried? Not because of a lack of customers - there have been a fair number of people there every time we've gone. Maybe my concern stems from the name. I might be missing the meaning, but "Flaming Ice Cube" doesn't immediately strike my mind as a place to get great food. I walked past it a number of times thinking it was a coffee shop, or, weirdly, a place that sold Icees and Sno-Cones. That latter one probably is my bad, but the skepticism over such a cryptic name seems justified. Hell, I didn't see The Shawshank Redemption for years because of its awkward name, and Shawshank doesn't even have vegan Mexican pizza.

In fact, I might never have gone were it not for a Groupon that Kim secured. I thought, OK, I'll give it a try, and now I've been there who knows how many times. I think this is the model that most of Groupon's commercial customers seek - garner first-time visitors with the Groupon and earn repeat business based on the initial visit. Mission accomplished.

I also wonder how non-Veggies view a place that bills itself as a "Compassionate Cafe" and boldly advertises itself as a vegan restaurant. For me it's a huge plus, but I think there's a widespread misunderstanding of the diversity and quality of vegan food, as illustrated by the graph below:



The diversity in the right-hand pie chart illustrates a rare conundrum that a place like Cubo presents for me. One of the (minor) drawbacks of the vegetarian lifestyle is a general lack of options - most places I go to for dinner have one or two non-meat choices, and that's it. In some respects this isn't such a bad thing - deciding between three things is a lot easier than between thirty, so I don't have to agonize over the entire menu.

At the Cube, though, I have the entire menu at my disposal, and it's funny how challenging I find this, simply because I'm so unaccustomed to it! I have to say, it's a good problem to have, especially since everything there is so good. Buffalo Chik'n sandwich, Chik'n Quesadillas, Pizza Burger, Black bean salad, Dijonaise Panini, flatbread pizzas - it's incredibly diverse and it's all excellent. They have some sort of peanut butter sandwich there and I'm convinced that somehow even it is good, even though peanut butter is the most malevolent, disgusting substance in the universe. I don't write about food very much, and I'm realizing that I have no idea what kinds of things food critics write. All I can tell you is that, if you live in the Cleveland area and you like food, you need to go to this place. Call me, I'll meet you there.

I enjoy the clientele at the Cubo too. The waitstaff are always friendly sorts, and the place attracts a diverse group of customers. In one of the best examples of "don't judge a book by its cover," we once ended up in a conversation with a fellow patron who didn't at all fit the stereotypical mold of a vegan restaurant customer. He was a middle-aged, somewhat badass fellow who rolled in on a motorbike - let's face it, not the kind of cat you'd look for in a Compassionate Cafe. He told us he was really into veganism, googled the Cube, hopped on his bike, and cruised downtown from the suburbs to check this place out and loved it. Right on, dude!

Now I'm hungry. That's alright - soon enough I'll head back to the Cube and try the Pulled BBQ. Mmm...pulled.