It was a rainy Tuesday, but instead of the drear which comes with overcast skies and meandering droplets, it was blessed relief from the oppressive summer heat that had held on for far too long when I parked just near 11th and Farnam Streets. It was time yet again to try my best to advertise for the restaurants along the Streetcar Route, as I know many are struggling and do not deserve the poor hand dealt to them by either the City Council or whoever else has had a hand in the delays. Just yesterday I spoke to the owner of Koen: Japanese BBQ and Izakaya, who said that business had slowed down immensely since the partitions had been put up just outside her restaurant, and then business slowed down even more when word of the “sinkhole" down the street appeared. 

Noli’s Pizzeria just down the street from Koen also put out a message just a few days ago, talking about how they have to close because business is so slow. 

So, there I was on Farnam, looking around me for the next locale after my article on Flora, and I spotted Jams restaurant over on Harney while rain pattered my shoulders. The old market restaurant had it more fortunate, compared to businesses in Midtown or Blackstone in the way of parking; there was a paid lot caddy-corner from it, and just inside there were plenty of people at the dark wrap-around bar. Jams only got busier as the night grew on. 

Passing by brick arches spanned over pleasant racks of wine along the walls, I was seated by the hostess on a modern high chair at a thick oaken table. My waitress met me, and I began my usual conversation when I go to review restaurants: 

“What is a popular appetizer?” 

Initially, she recommended the crab rangoons, but alas, it would be bad for me to review those because I do not like that food. As a reviewer, that would feel like I was intentionally trying to leave a bad review, and I begged her for another option, 

“The baked shrimp scampi,” was offered, and I accepted readily. After all, I am a huge fan of shrimp! Truthfully, I had no idea what a Baked Shrimp Scampi was, but my review would be as honest as I could get it if I angled towards food that I liked and foods that are also popular, for any reader. Of course, when I noticed the Habanero Bisque, I knew I had to try it (so, that choice was entirely selfish because I love discovering good soups!), and then when parsing through the menu I spotted “short rib", and decided to order that before noticing it was "short rib tacos.”

“Smoked chili tomato jam, lime crema, jack” were the ingredients listed under it. 

“Short rib? Tacos? Are they good?” I queried my waitress, 

“Oh yes, our short rib is so soft!" 

Fantastic, I thought; and a side of onion rings would do well, since throughout my youth I had experienced many onion rings as my mother ordered them often. 

I will save the soup for last.

But first, the Baked Scampi. 

Listed on the menu only as: "garlic butter, havarti, parmesan toast,” I do not think I was quite prepared for it. 

Truthfully, I just put forward here that if you like an excess of cheese and bread with an awkward dipping bowl, then you will probably like this. Four thick hefts of bread, cooked in cheese, were meant to be dipped into a ceramic bowl with ceramic potholes, hidden by a plate of thick cheese and butter. There were five shrimp inside. I must reiterate that I was disappointed it wasn't a shrimp dish; it was a cheese fishing experience with a difficulty modifier added by giving you cheesy bread fishing rods. 

I worked through two pieces of bread with the help of a fork to put some more cheese and one shrimp on top from the awkward bowl, and I couldn't really describe it to you with a good analogy. The few shrimp were spiced with a lot of pepper, and the cheese was cheese on top of cheese and carbs. 

Then, instead of the short-rib tacos that came out, I was given the wrong order of lobster tacos. I did not notice yet, as I was busy pretending to be an Instagram girl, taking photos of my food, which is when I also got busy picking up the taco to taste it. It was when I bit into it that my mind told me that what I was tasting was not short rib. Normally, I would not even add a wrong order to a restaurant review, as it is inevitable given how often I frequent restaurants, but it is important because it adds a better frame: the wrong tacos looked colorful and appetizing, with what looked like purple onion crinkles, green herbs, tan sauces, and a lime on the side. (If you like sauce-over-taco-ratio, this could be your food.)

When the wrong order was quickly addressed by the waitress, she was very apologetic (full disclosure: she offered to give me a discount. I declined the discount, but when the check came, there was one applied anyway), then the short-rib taco was brought out. It too looked like a vibrant fresco with its purple onion bits and leafy greens. However, there was quite a large helping of lime crema over the top. Lime crema is a dairy-based (mayo, sour cream, or yogurt) sauce with potentially lime and/or onions and garlic. 

Biting into them, I was reminded of a small garden greenhouse; fresh and real, as if a breeze blew through the garden and drew with it all the scents of herbs to you. The waitress was true to her word in regard to the short rib: it was soft and exceptionally easy to chew. 

As a food, the short rib taco is good and has its place. Some will inevitably like it, if for no other reason than people who love foods with an overabundance of mayo will seek it out. However, when placed alongside the tacos I did not order, the South Omaha in me was slightly disheartened. I felt like I was in a bar scene, which would be more down-to-earth, and then ordering what I thought were “tacos" because I wanted to give a good review. 

Either item would be better served to have some fancy, rich name, like "Garden-Yale Le Taco.” Then, as a (South Omaha Boy) consumer, I would know to order something else. The Short Rib was clearly better than the lobster taco, by a good mile, and either will be enjoyed by mayo aficionados. The onion rings were also neat and crisp rather than the sometimes-troublesome slimy onion rings that other locales sometimes have. 

But truthfully? Anyone who understands truly good soups should absolutely go to Jams. 

Habanero, lobster, onion, basil, white wine, and roux: The Lobster Habanero Bisque was perfect. 

And that opinion was not clouded by the awkward, hobbling dish of the Baked Scampi in the way that deep valley makes a mountain taller, because I ate the soup first. There was nothing yet to compare it to. 

It was incredibly smooth, with a wonderfully soft surge of heat. The heat would build with each easy bite, but taking in one of the choice croutons easily tempered the heat. The bisque was a dance, and not something with wild and jerking movements like a bad TikTok dance: it was the smooth and slow hip roll from Dirty Dancing. After hiking up a cold mountain to a cabin, where a woman waits and rests her warm forearms against the chilled skin of your neck and sets heat against your heart – that was the Bisque. 

Austin Petak is an aspiring novelist and freelance journalist who loves seeking stories and the quiet passions of the soul. If you are interested in reaching out to him to cover a story, you may find him at austinpetak@gmail.com.