Rumors up and down Greenville Avenue have the Milkbar, Kim and Holly Forsythe's quasi replica of the bar in A Clockwork Orange, in a life-threatening jammiwam. "No, we're not closing at all," scoffs Holly, who says she's traced the rumor to a competitor up the street. Indeed, Forsythe boasts Milkbar is so hot the couple, who also own Sambuca, plan to throw wads of pretty polly at it just in time for Milkbar's first anniversary celebration March 15. They'll be adding things like draperies, more decorative fare such as mannequin legs and other body parts, and two big-screen TVs that will, among other things, play a specially produced Milkbar video. "It's very artsy," she says. "It's kind of a little bit Max Headroom [remember him?] and a little bit...I can't even describe it." Sounds like ESPN to us.
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Noted chef
Robert Auston all but slipped off the edge of the metroplex after he shuttered
Ianos Trattoria in Richardson last August. He has since resurfaced as a chef/partner in
My House of Fine Eats & Catering, an upscale catering company launched in 1996 by former
Mi Piaci chef
Mark Morrow. Auston says he struggled to keep his restaurant open in the wake of his troubled brush with
Tim Hager of
Shared Vision,the company that now operates Mediterraneo. "We were makin' money," insists Auston. "We just couldn't pay the damn taxes."...Seems a stint at
III Forks is so trying, it can drive you to the bowels of McKinney Avenue in search of a fix (of caffeine, that is). At least that's what happened to
Joe Knoblich (a III Forks alumni) and his partner
Gregory Moreux (current sous chef at III Forks). Their stress jitters got so bad, they hobbled over to McKinney Avenue and settled in to open
Java Junkeez in the former home of Enigma, a slot that has had at least a trio of near births and quick deaths. That history doesn't phase Knoblich. "We know what we are," he says. "We're a coffee shop and a deli. That's basically all we are." We hope they have plenty of cold turkey...Editing is not the kind of activity one would normally consider romantic. It fact, we tend to think of it as birth control. But
Darryl Beeson, sommelier for
Voltaire and former wine maven for the Mansion and The French Room, thinks otherwise. While in the final edit of an article on marriage proposals in restaurants he penned for
D magazine (with helpful hints such as never surprise your intended by hiding a yellow diamond in her Scotch on the rocks, and never ever slip the ring around a cocktail shrimp), Beeson scrawled a proposal to
Patty Marriott, a meeting planner at
Frito-Lay. Once the February issue was published, he put the article in front of her while preparing her a dinner of leftovers. She accepted. What the hell does Beeson put in his leftovers anyway?
