In a city known for its burger scene, PorterHouse is more a local favorite than a stand out. If The PorterHouse were an NBA player, it would be Michael Kidd-Gilchrist (go Big Blue and go Buzz City!). They haven't been around long, but have made a solid impact despite some glaring weaknesses in their game. So when the PorterHouse Burger Truck visited our office, I was eager to try them out. After scanning the lineup, I decided to draft (see what I did there?) the Lincolnator; blackened Cajun chicken with grilled shrimp, Swiss cheese, roasted garlic aioli server on a brioche bun with lettuce, tomato, and pickles. To round out the meal, I ordered their fries.
Being that this was a food truck, I wasn't expecting any sort of presentation whatsoever, so I'm not going to dock them any points for the sloppily pieced together sandwich. If anything, that adds to the charm of what makes food trucks so great. After opening the bun and inspecting the sandwich, with the two grilled shrimp tucked neatly in their grilled chicken bed with melted Swiss cheese as a blanket, my mouth began to water.
The best thing about this sandwich was how much it builds. My first bite in, it stumbled out of the blocks because the chicken had been pounded so flat that it was dry. So far, my pick was looking like a bust. I missed getting any shrimp in the bite as well. I was so off put by the dryness of the chicken, that I didn't take the time to notice the robust flavor that was building in my mouth. A second and third bite and I forgot about the chicken altogether. The shrimp was the real star, here. My draft pick, still early in its career, suddenly flashed a whole new skill set.
Perfectly grilled and succulent, the shrimp had the precise combination of both snap and tenderness. For a moment I thought, "why don't they just make this a shrimp sandwich instead?", but then I forgot all about that nonsense because the Cajun spice started kicking in.
The garlic aioli was spread across like a mayo substitute, but it was rather muted compared to the raging Cajun Mardi Gras celebration going on in my mouth. It honestly wasn't needed and seemed more like an embellishment of its skills to add a more full description on the menu. The more I ate, the more those ragin' Cajun spices built in my mouth to the point I nearly bust out with a WhoDat? chant.
All in all, I'll give the Lincolnator a starter. When the supposed centerpiece of the meal is basically an overly dry miniature plate for the add-ons, you're not making any All-Star game appearances. However, those add-ons certainly shine enough to lift this chicken sandwich from meh to mmm.
(I could probably do an entire scouting report devoted to their fries, however. Those were amazing!)