For a guy who writes about burgers as much as I do, I’m pretty keen on foods not served in foil, too. I can tell if an oyster is from the East, West, or Mud Coast of the U.S. I once described a wine at a tasting as having notes of “trench foot”—to the embarrassment of my then-partner and the delight of the sommelier, who said I was correct, although “gamey” was the preferred term. I’ve shed tears over a tlayuda in a Oaxacan graveyard, sampled Camembert while standing next to the cows that produced it in Normandy, and tried whale in Bergen (I feel bad about that one). I get misty-eyed remembering what was lost when Lowood burned down.
So I was primed for the low-brow-named Meat & Cheese Show’s high-brow “Night in Spain” wine dinner—part of their Friday Supper Club series—which blew my mid-brow ass away.
This spot, which occupies a tiny space on 11th Street just east of Peoria, is a high-end retail shop by day and, more recently, a Michelin-seeking speakeasy by night. Its branding is mid-century modern, with atomic age aesthetics and a TV screen logo that can only be described as Ren & Stimpian. You might be surprised to find that serious food (far more wide-ranging than the “meat and cheese” in the name) is happening in this Jetsons-esque environment. But owners and chefs Joel Bein and Amanda Simcoe are here to mess with all your expectations about what belongs where—and who belongs at the fine dining table.
Bein is the inventive force behind RUB, a BBQ food truck launched in 2014, known for bold flavors and its signature Cuban sandwich. Though RUB is meat-forward, Bein has also made a name for himself in vegan cuisine, winning multiple Ripple Invitationals, Best Vegan Private Dining in Tulsa’s Vegan Chef Challenge, and The Culinary Brilliance Award. (“I’ve also won some seconds and thirds,” Bein admitted, “but we don’t talk about that.”)
Where Bein is the Meat, Simcoe is unmistakably the Cheese. Known locally and Instagrammically as the “Cheese Wench” since her days at D’Novo Lean Gourmet, her moniker is buttressed with formal training in San Francisco and years spent cheese-hunting across Europe. Returning to Tulsa with plans to open a shop, Simcoe called Bein, a frequent collaborator from past catering gigs, to pitch the idea of a specialty market. “I got a bottle of cab and an idea, get over here,” she told him.
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With Simcoe’s encyclopedic cheese knowledge and Bein’s praetorian command of proteins, the concept came together quickly, and in 2021 The Meat & Cheese Show was born. It started as just a market, but soon evolved into a full-fledged food operation, complete with catering, a vintage Airstream cocktail bar, and regular dinner gatherings at the shop where Bein and Simcoe serve multiple themed courses with wine pairings and stories as rich as what’s on the table.
The pair became business partners through charity dinners and private meals in patrons’ homes, but their nighttime transformation into a fine dining establishment was a dream they’ve just now been able to realize with consistency. The road here has been marbled with frustrations—including a pandemic, a surgery, and a derecho—but we’ll chew on that fat after we eat.
The setting at the 11th Street shop-slash-dining room is as comfortable as it is sophisticated. The walls are decorated with photos of Bein and Simcoe’s global travels, where the pair find new products, concepts, and flavor profiles to bring back to their cultural emporium on Route 66. Those products—Iberian Ham potato chips, caviar, assorted tinned fish, spices, and pastes—line the tall shelves like a treasury of taste. This culinary library includes actual books, too; one titled Burgers and Burgundy made me feel at home, as did the flamenco versions of Western pop songs (including Britney Spears) softly lilting through the speakers as my partner and I walked in for the “Night in Spain” dinner.
A Friday Supper Club at The Meat & Cheese Show seats a maximum of eight guests, which sounds like it could be awkward but is actually awesome. Our tablemates included a soft-spoken and food-curious older couple and a solo young woman with an adventurous palate and, charmingly, the same name as her older counterpart across the table. After some introductions (and everyone laughing at the loud squeak all our chairs made as we pulled them out from the table), we were soon debating fast food taco chains with our new friends.
After Bein brought out the first course and offered a brief description, Simcoe told us about the wine pairing in her delightfully verbose vernacular. The opening dish was a banger: steak tartare with mustard-horseradish ice cream, bone marrow aioli, roasted pepper and garlic, and chive oil. My partner observed that the mustard ice cream brought just the right acidity and temperature contrast to the velvety raw beef. Combined with the three spreads, we agreed, it made for a truly perfect bite.
Bite two—jamón ibérico with caviar and gold leaf—kept the wonders coming. I’d never had caviar before—let alone topped with gold. The words “Poseidon’s capers” floated into my mind as the rare roe channeled the salinity of the green buds; when I said this out loud, Bein pondered and replied, “That’s exactly what it is.” The Jamón Ibérico (a recurring ingredient throughout the evening) was served in thin slices that carried deep, rich flavor. The dish was capped with ingenious olive oil “pearls”—a sort of micro-Mediterranean boba that popped in your mouth and washed over the salt and fat.
Next came possibly my favorite dish of the night: Pan con Tomate with Boquerones and Arugula Salad, with the ingredients laid out as build-your-own-bruschetta possibilities. The boquerones (marinated white anchovies) and arugula with cumin-garlic vinaigrette topped the tomato-rubbed bread for a truly wild bite. The smart wine pairing balanced the anchovies’ brine perfectly, calming the ocean of acid and minerality that had been building since the first taste of caviar.
Zarzuela, a Spanish seafood stew, brought a mysterious depth to the dinner. I’m the burger guy, not the soup guy—but even a burger guy knows when he’s tasting something next-level. The fresh clams, shrimp, lobster, crab, saffron, and tomato broth combined for a smoky, flinty depth—something elemental, like an occulted broth someone might have slurped at Goya’s Witches' Sabbath.
Bein exclaimed his love for brava sauce—a traditional Spanish sauce with a tangy, smoky boldness—while serving the next dish, Patatas Bravas with Iberico Pork Cheek and Chorizo. Consider me converted. The potatoes were planed into incredibly thin sheets like sheet metal au gratin and restacked in a crispy palette, flanked by floral and spicy chorizo crumbles and the buttery, nutty, decadent pork cheek Iberico. Pork cheek of all types has a melty fattiness; a rich manchego/garlic aioli accompanied the acorn-fed nuttiness of this top shelf variety, all perfectly sliced through by the brava sauce’s acidity.
Bein and Simcoe ended the night with a laugh and a bang: gold churros with Spanish chocolate, followed by a Frangelico shot that pierced the pitch black depth of the chocolate and made my eyes go wider than Rick James after his first line of the evening. “We couldn’t talk about a future ‘legs and eggs’ dinner and not leave y’all with gold dust on your fingers,” Simcoe said while serving their golden take on the classic dessert, referencing an earlier dinner concept riffing on a strip club breakfast buffet where the “legs and eggs” would be crab and caviar.
Simcoe told me these dinners are her “jammy jam,” and it’s clear why. This is the format that suits her best—small, intimate, and personal. Bein echoed her, saying the two thrive when the table is tight-knit and the experience feels like a conversation rather than a performance. Over leftover pours of the evening's wine in the kitchen after the meal, they reflected on the beauty of sharing experiences like this—of watching people from all sorts of backgrounds light up as they taste something new.
It hasn’t been an easy road to get here. In 2023, the Father’s Day storm knocked out the shop’s power for days. Simcoe, stuck in a wheelchair after a hip replacement, found herself stranded in an Airbnb and fighting with insurance over lost wheels of cheese that retail for $70 a pound. Eventually, she and Bein pushed through the chaos and returned with a full array of retail operations even as Simcoe continued recovering from surgeries.
Now, they’re leaning into a rhythm: a themed menu offered each Friday (the theme changes each month), a vegan dinner one Saturday per month, and an à la carte brunch every other Sunday, plus the occasional Saturday brunch if catering doesn’t pull them away. They also do the occasional “Winesday”—more casual three-course wine pairing popups throughout the month.
This August, Bein and Simcoe kept things cool with their Friday Supper Club series, “Chill Out”—a multi-course cold dinner party featuring everything from tomato water martinis and crab-avocado soup to icy Tom Kha Gai ramen and a lobster-caviar “Knuckle Sandwich.” September sees their table turning traditionally Italian, with menus built around halibut and linguine, rare Castelluccio lentils folded into Parmigiano-laced soup, panzanella, and veal Milanese, rounded out with limoncello granita and other seasonal staples.
Though their menu themes and dish titles can be campy, the pair’s culinary résumé is formidable; Simcoe herself is a former James Beard Award judge. Our night’s dinner highlighted The Meat & Cheese Show’s juxtaposition of unpretentious enthusiasm and culinary precision. Simcoe and Bein were just as comfortable serving Iberian ham and gold leaf as they were joining guests in the Mayo vs. Bueno war of words. They’ll tell you the younger generation is chasing experiences, not possessions, an observation that’s reflected in their eclectic mix of guests: food lovers of all ages, couples, and solo diners looking for something memorable.
Then there are the moments that remind you why they do this. Bein laughed as he recalled a consultation for an upcoming birthday dinner for a 13-year-old. “He wanted caviar, foie gras, and tartare,” he said. “I told him, ‘You got it. How far do you wanna go, little man?’”
