The praise keeps pouring in.

Balliceux, or Balliceaux -which is pronounced Ball-e-chew or Bali-Sue or something like that – is already raking in a number of positive reviews from food critics, just two weeks into its opening.

Ballichieux, the “x” in which may or may not be silent, opened in the former location of the easy-to-spell and pronounce Bogart’s at 203 N. Lombardy St.

Also possibilities: Ballhooks, Ballyoose, Bawlyserious, Ballychucks, Balisookes, Bazooka and Ballsux.

“The food is amazing, and beyond that, when you step in you really do forget that you’re in Richmond with the industrial-like interior you find at…Bally-hoo, is it?  Or Ballyhooch,” said Matt Sadler, a Richmond blogger at The House of Marinara, which reviewed the Fan restaurant last week.  “Ballitchyhewks? Maybe you just say it with only one ‘L’? Actually that wouldn’t really make a lot of sense.”

Balilesoox, which serves an array of farm-, field- and ocean-fresh foods in a hip urban ambiance, is French for a word that we’re not even going to try and guess or pronounce – though the name may very well be of Portuguese or Spanish decent, if “decent” is even the right word.

Origin.  That’s the word we were looking for.

Virginia Commonwealth University’s Commonwealth Times newspaper described the restaurant as “a unique experience that took [the reviewer] out of Richmond for a couple hours,” and pronounced the restaurant as “Baliso,” which sounds the same phonetically as the name of a small Grenadine Island off the coast of St.Vincent.

The brazen toddler, the youngest in a party of five, ate half the sandwich – hastily custom-made by the 17th Street restaurant’s award-winning chef – before dropping the remainder on the floor. 

Additionally, onlookers said the brash youngster showed no signs of emotion during the PB&J’s eating, while customers watched in chagrin as the little bastard got strawberry jelly all over his tiny, greedy fingers and demanded that his mother wipe them off.

“Who does that kid think he is, for Christ’s sake, coming in here and ordering a PBJ?” said Steve Jurina, chef at the highly-acclaimed restaurant.  “Did he not even recognize that we’re known for our homemade meatloaf, or has he not read the reviews of our bone-in smoked pork rack with poblano byrd mill grits and mango salsa?”

“It’s like he doesn’t even care,” Jurina added, noting the child who still cannot speak has no frigging idea what he’s missing.

LuLu’s patrons echoed the chef’s comments, saying they couldn’t believe the toddler would skip out on food from one of the city’s best eateries.

“I had the macaroni and cheese, which sounds a bit childish but they top it with grilled shrimp,” said Susan Scott, a diner from Chesterfield County who drove all the way downtown only to see some disrespectful little dick eat a sandwich he could have easily had at home.  “This kid was pretty ballsy, though, ordering something off the menu.  If I were the owner I wouldn’t have stood for it.”

As if the tiny shark’s antics at the dinner table were not enough, Smith was also caught staring blankly at other diners and was later escorted out of the restaurant by his parents after making it well known to the entire establishment that he wanted to get out of his high chair.

The move is expected to generate much-needed revenue for the state’s transportation needs and ease the discomfort of motorists who “just can’t hold it no matter how hard they try not to think about it,” VDOT spokesman Jeff Caldwell said, as well as allow them to eat pancakes during interstate travel.

The surprise deal – which makes Virginia the largest Aunt Sarah’s franchisee – is estimated to raise more than $1.6 million a year from the sale of the pancake house’s famous Big Farmer stuffed pancakes, catfish and eggs Super Skillet, Southern Fried Cousin John’s, and an array of home-style dinners, sandwiches and desserts.

Such desserts include the restaurant’s decadent Big Fudgy Wudgy, Caldwell noted.

“It’s win-win for everyone,” he said, though difficult to understand during a phone interview while claiming to have his mouth full of a Big Daddy Skillet. “Not only will this nom nom nom deal produce enough revenue argh to buy some of the nom nom paint nom we will need some day nom to re-stripe new highways, but [sound of swallowing] it should stop all this [indecipherable].”

According to terms of the sale, Aunt Sarah’s will perform some modest renovations on the 17 sites, giving them a “countrified” look with gingham curtains, oak tables and chairs and framed cross-stitched sayings such as “Kiss My Grits” and “Ain’t no one’s happy lessin’ Momma’s happy,” which also will be available for sale in the gift shops.

“Afterward, maybe we could, how you say, go back to my hotel,” the foreign man was overheard saying to you in what appeared to be a French or Italian dialect, while stirring a martini.  “Do you go to university?”

The clean-shaven man then continued his, how you say, flirtations with you, lighting a cigar previously purchased from a cocktail waitress, while flamboyantly moving his hands as he spoke.

“I think you are a very beautiful, can I say, sexy woman,” the man said, stroking his fingers across your face in the middle of the Shockoe Slip restaurant and bar.  “Do you live nearby in a what-we-call flat but what-you-say is an apartment?  Do you have a, how you say, roommate?”

Sources said you later told the foreigner to, how you say, go to Hell.

The 149-page report found that nearly 92 percent of residents aged 22 to 38 had “a suspicious number” of 16-ounce conical pint glasses stocked in their own cabinets.  Most all of the cups feature the  the logos of iconic beer brands, such as Sierra Nevada and Brooklyn Brewery, as well as local restaurants, including Legends and Capital Ale House.

“What is so interesting about this phenomenon is that people aren’t just drinking alcohol from these glasses, but using them for daily beverage consumption, from water to milk to orange juice, or even as an ice cream bowl,” said Lydia Whalen, VCU’s lead researcher on the report, which observed the cupboard habits of more than 300 people under age 40 in the greater Richmond area.  “Furthermore, this is an age group that has a high level of disposable income and could easily afford to buy their own glassware, even pint glasses - yet they choose to create their own collection from that of the local restaurant glassware stock.”

“I know from experience,” the 32-year-old scientist and frequent glass-stealer added.

In only 20 percent of the cases, Whalen said, the glassware was authorized to be removed from the bar in an established and publicized ‘Steal The Glass’ night, an event held by several local breweries and restaurants.

James Schalow, a downtown copywriter, said taking glassware from restaurants is “a fun pastime for me and my friends” – albeit a Class 3 misdemeanor.

“It works best if you have a chick with you, who has a purse that can hold four or five of them at a time,” said the 29-year-old, whose cabinets include three plates, a bowl, and 71 pint glasses marked with an array of beer brand logos.  “Those things are all we have in our apartment.  Plus they have great grips and stack really well.  I’ve even nuked mac and cheese in them.  Extremely versatile.”

Restaurant owners having sought revenge with glass stealers by rigging each glass to – at a certain moment in time – slip from the drinker’s hands and smash into millions of tiny, un-sweepable shards.

Eight gunmen, believed to have been linked to the devout Chic-fil-A fanaticism movement, were killed in a dramatic shootout in the westbound lanes of Interstate 64 near Parham Road in an incident that sent shockwaves around the world of fast-food dining.  One mayoral guard was wounded in the convoy attack by the terrorists, armed with assault rifles, rocket launchers, and thousands of Chic-fil-A Polynesian dipping sauce packets.

Jones escaped with minor scrapes in the ambush, his spokeswoman said, though was unable to fulfill his Arby’s craving. 

“I would sincerely hope the reporters at Tobacco Avenue are happy for the events they have singlehandedly caused today, having reported on classified information regarding the mayor’s luncheoning habits,” said Tammy Hawley, the mayor’s press secretary.  “Furthermore, Mayor Jones was unable to reach the luxury Arby’s in Short Pump and therefore denied a large roast beef sandwich, and possibly some of those triangle-shaped potato bites.”

Tobacco Avenue Editor & Publisher Randolph J. Strummer Jr. had no comment on the matter, saying he was too busy watching the 2007 Peter Berg film The Kingdom.

Four of the mayor’s escorting vehicles, black Chevrolet Suburbans, were destroyed in the motorcade attack, forcing city agents into a violent gun battle in the middle of I-64.  One of the mayor’s security guards, known to aides as “the comic relief,” was kidnapped by the Chic-fil-Agents but rescued nearly two hours later.

The mayoral convoy attack was condemned by a still-hungry Jones, who said he had been “thinking Arby’s” since early Tuesday morning. 

“Let it be known that I will not let a few radical chicken-sandwich lovers take a craving of juicy, roasted beef away from me,” the 62-year-old Jones said, adding that he would bring the terrorists to justice and soon make it to Arby’s “so help me God.”

Added Jones: “We’re gonna kill ‘em all.”

The Arby’s run, offhandedly mentioned by Jones at his staff meeting this morning, could fall somewhere between 11:30 p.m. and 1:30 p.m. today, said the sources, who spoke on the condition of anonymity.  The mayoral roast beefing will likely target the Short Pump location due to its luxury fast-food accommodations.

“Anyone else in the mood for a roast beef sandwich for lunch?  I could sure use one,” said Jones, whose mind was made up for Arby’s pretty much as soon as he woke up.  “I think I might even make it a large this time, as opposed to my normal regular.”

As of 9 a.m., Blackhawk helicopters were seen circling the Short Pump area in preparation for the mayoral Arby’s visit, while Virginia State Police had shut down two westbound lanes of Interstate 64 in advance of the 62-year-old’s roast beefing.  Sources said the meal would indeed be “a dine-in,” and that Jones would order a sweet iced tea, though it was unclear whether he would upgrade to a combo for an additional $2.99.

Jones was also said to be considering procurement of a frozen JaMocha shake.

The mayor, who said he “never even pondered” Hardee’s, Wendy’s, or Burger King as possible lunch-going options, said his only eating decision has come down to whether he will get regular or curly fries from Arby’s. 

“I just hope if I get regular fries that they are the long-cut kind, because I’ve never been a huge fan of waffle fries,” Jones said, adding that he hopes he remembers to ask for extra Arby’s and Horsey sauces at the time of ordering.  “Because you never want to sit down at the table and prepare to eat your meal, then realize you forgot the sauces, and then have to walk all the way back up to the counter for some.”

As of press time, the mayor was unaware that he had a noon meeting with his press secretary, and would therefore have to postpone the Arby’s trip until tomorrow.

“Monday through Sunday, I hear those guys partying pretty much every night,” Cavalieri said.   The University of Richmond graduate, who has lived in the Fan for the past eight years, said he too enjoys going out on the weekends from time to time, “but the constant noise from down there is starting to get annoying.” 

The tenants at 3 Monkeys, who have lived in the building since November 2004, apparently also enjoy cooking and have earned a reputation as one of the best martini makers in the city, which leads to numerous intoxicated persons on Cavalieri’s front sidewalk each night.  Despite the good food and drinks, which Cavalieri “went down and tasted once,” 3 Monkeys “doesn’t seem to ever consider the feelings of their upstairs neighbor, and maybe what I think about their up-’til 2 a.m. habits,” the mortgage lender said, pulling a pillow over his head to snuff out the heavy thump of bass currently rattling his floor.  “This is just what I’m talking about.  I just want to get some sleep.”

“I hate to sound like a crotchety old man, but it’s getting a little ridiculous,” he added.  “This isn’t a fraternity house.”

Cavalieri said he first noticed his neighbors were heavy partiers at the start of his lease agreement when, on a Friday night, a line of “no less than 30 people” were waiting to gain entry into the building.

“If I were throwing a huge party, I would at least ask the people who lived around me if it’d be okay, and let them know I was going to be a little loud,” Cavalieri said.  “And I love girls and all, but there are girls – literally hundreds of different girls – going in and out of the place all the time.”

The obnoxious habits of the downstairs tenants don’t end at partying, however.  The occupants produce so much trash that they have placed a Dumpster in the rear of the two-story building, which is emptied twice a week.  And Cavalierican hear numerous televisions throughout the 800-square-foot first floor running “pretty much all the time,” he said.  “They apparently really like sports, and watching those sports at very high volumes.”

Cavalieri also said his neighbors don’t ever think twice about whether the weather is hot or cold, and hang out on the front porch no matter the season.

During the weekend, thousands of heterosexual men and women – unable to make proper going-out decisions without fully-functioning gay-detecting technology – poured into bars and restaurants frequented largely by the gay and lesbian community, “fully incognizant that the bars and restaurants are frequented largely by the gay and lesbian community,” said Miguel Davis, director of the Office of the Muncipal Gaydar System.

Despite their knowledge that the city’s gaydar is malfunctioning, the local hetero-based population remains helpless without the the essential nightclub-traffic control system.

“Guys, let’s hit up Barcode tonight, I hear it’s all like techno-remixed showtunes from Abba and stuff,” local resident and heterosexual Rob Schlessinger told friends, the 28-year-old and his peers’ gaydar systems disabled by the March 12 lightening strike on the city’s central gaydar infrastructure.  They later took taxis to the nightclub at 6 E. Grace St. 

“I bet that chick who I met the other night at Babe’s [of Carytown] will be there,” Schlessinger added.  “I think she was into me.”

The municipal gaydar system serves nearly 1.1 million members of Richmond’s straight community, giving them the ability to detect and engage in conversation with homosexuals.  Additionally, the technology gives heterosexuals a basic understanding of gay culture and, more importantly, insight into which bars and entertainment venues are labeled as those not meant for – but not prohibitive of – heterosexuals.

The city’s $22 million gaydar system, developed in 1992, has broken down only twice since being installed.  Though they know the problems were weather related, engineers have yet to find the root cause of the gaydar outage, but believe there is a severe breakdown of its crucial long-range homomagnetic waves.

The system’s mantenna was also destroyed in the lightening strike, Davis said.

“We very much regret the inconvenience to those who rely on the gaydar system, and we encourage those who use this technology to play it safe, and stick to your normal bar and restaurant attending routines,” he said.  “You are flying blind out there.”

“I don’t know why we don’t come here more often,” Chad Herdrich said as he grabbed his third appletini of the evening at downtown gay bar Godfrey’s.  The Fan resident, a seventh grade teacher and, as of last year, a self-described “homophobe,” said he enjoyed the laid-back atmosphere of the Grace Street establishment, which encourages patrons to remove shirts and dance.  “This place is great.  It’s awesome to show off the body you’ve worked hard to get, and plus, holy geez, check out that guy’s quads.”

Despite the gaydar system being down,  the city said the blackdar, babedar, Mexidar and White-Middle-Class-Anglo-Saxondar systems were all working properly.

“I happened to be jogging by at the time and did a double take when I saw the car actually stopped at the outdoor menu,” said a visibly shaken Matt Hayes, 27, noting he could hear a woman’s voice from the speaker confirming the order of a double cheeseburger and french fries.  ”I never realized that anyone actually ate at Bullets, it’s just been one of those places that’s just kinda ‘There,’ you know?”

Added Hayes: “Jesus Christ.”

With such an ample amount of other fast-food establishments nearby – including a Burger King and Wendy’s within walking distance – sources have confirmed that they are not sure what, on Earth, the person at Bullets was thinking.