Go figure. The only place we could find those nifty vintage rock-and-roll tees for our kid was at Haute Apple Pie on the square in downtown McKinney, which has gone through quite the transformation since the days when the coolest thing up there was a record store that sold us Get the Knack in 1981. Until recently the world's largest antique shop, downtown McKinney is what the West Village wants to be and what Deep Ellum ought to be—a smorgasbord of hip retailers (Bath Junkie, Alternative Furnishings, Mom and POPcorn Company) and cool clothing stores and some of the finest dining in North Texas. Within a couple of blocks are four of our favorite places to hang in the 972: Rick's Chophouse and Wine Bar, which boasts a plush library bar bigger and badder than any we've ever seen; Café Malaga, a superior tapas joint; La Misha, a coffee house Dallas would die for; and Spoons Café, a low-key eatery that feels like home...if you're from Austin. Add to that an amazing rare-book store (The Book Gallery, to which people come from all around for great prices on amazing finds), a new boutique inn that used to be a historic hotel (the Grand Hotel, actually, with a dazzling formal ballroom all ready for your special occasions) and two wineries (Landon Winery and Lone Star Wine Cellars) at which we've been known to tipple till we wobble, and you've got the making of a special weekend every weekend.
Why is it that no matter what happens to the Cowboys, everyone is still hung up on the team's ex-coach, the legendary Bill Parcells? Neither Cowboys fans nor players ever warmed up to the aging, dyed-blond grump, who did a perfectly average job in his four-year stint here. He improved the team some, though he never broke their epic playoff-win drought. Despite a rather forgettable record, Parcells haunts Valley Ranch like a ghost at a shuttered mental hospital. He's brought up, of course, by the media, who loved the perceived rivalry between Parcells and Jerry Jones, and the players, who either looked upon him as a father or as tyrant. But even Jones himself and Wade Phillips still talk about Parcells. We're not quite sure why the Cowboys can't quit Parcells, but not since Heath and Jake has a bunch of Cowboys shown this kind of passion.
NorthPark Center
This is Dallas, and we're a material bunch. Frankly, with the right attitude, there's no shame in that. Take for instance the need for a little air-conditioned walking space. NorthPark Center is the finest of the mall walks. Covered parking is nearly always available, and thanks to recent mall additions, walkers get a perfect lap. Natural light beams in through periodic skylights, beautiful wearables and trinkets abound for extensive eyeballing (no wallet required for that), people-watching is prime and with the addition of a brilliantly varied food court, strollers can replenish with Snappy Salads, Hibachi-San, The Original Soup Man and others. Take in a movie and head back out for another 2.72-mile circuit (maps of various routes available at northparkcenter.com).
Good Records
Call us lame, but we've gotten to the point where we sometimes enjoy a Good Records in-store a lot more than a club show. No smoke, no late nights, no cover charge, no drive to Denton, no drunken sound guys with a bass fetish. It's all of the fun without the majority of the hassles. And guess what? When you watch a show with a bunch of record nerds and bloggers, people actually seem to listen, which is really what it's all about. So grab a six-pack and stop in the next time there's a band playing. They'll probably be good. And if they're not, just remember, it was free and there's always the parking lot.
Soon the formerly conservative Rod Dreher will find himself to the left of our very own Jim Schutze. Dreher's leftward lurch began when he came out of the closet as an environmentalist. Then he penned a column admitting that his support for the invasion of Iraq was a total mistake. He would later announce his opposition to capital punishment. Finally, he wrote that he has problems with, well, capitalism and big business. At this rate, in a year or so, Dreher will write in favor of unionizing welfare recipients. For sure, there have been times when Dreher's evolution (our word) has been hard to watch, like seeing a college freshman change his stripes midway through his first political science class. But Dreher's honesty and insight always manage to shine through the awkwardness of his revelations. Here's the sound of our left hand clapping.
Toothacres Pet Care Center
Dogs are like toddlers except when you go on vacation. It's not nice to leave the baby at the kennel, but if you know the right place, it's OK to leave the pooch there. And when you have multiple dogs with varying needs—a senior golden retriever that must pee every two hours, a spaniel that won't poop while on a leash and a mutt who's a four-legged shredding machine—finding a versatile kennel is a must. Toothacres, in business since 1967, has almost 400 runs in different sizes and styles, and most include both indoor and outdoor access (important for the weak-bladdered pups). There are even available "fun run" areas that include splash pools and outdoor toys. The staff is also obliging regarding feeding (they offer Science Diet and Bil-Jac foods, or you can bring your own), plus medication and treats. Prices are comparable to other area kennels, though they also offer more pricey furnished "suites" for the truly spoiled.
Rosewood Mansion on Turtle Creek
Ultimately, the purpose of an appetizer is to whet, to arouse, to salivate. It's to kick-start the innards and make them receptive to the more weighty compositions to follow. Mansion Chef John Tesar's crab "scampi style" does this. Six ounces of king crab leg meat is torn from the shell in ropes, flecked with parsley and set in a pool of Riesling butter sauce with touches of garlic and shallot. Riesling creeps to the forefront, launching a fascinating interplay of focused minerality and torrents of fruity acid that seem to reach around the crab's sweet buttery richness, targeting the minerals a few layers deep in the soul of the meat. Here, bitterness kisses the front of the mouth before the butter slides the crab's rich sweetness across the palate. Then the acids clear away a little of that, and it becomes almost floral. All of this is framed in a steely mineral component that is strong in the wine but subtler in the crab. Hence, the complex flavors of the crab instantly become understandable. This is a laser beam of a dish. It is visceral. It has gobs of charisma. It is pure mouth joy.
Washer eating socks? Dryer spewing tepid air? Ice machine stop making cubes? If a home appliance—anything from a toaster to central air-conditioning units—goes kerflooey, the folks at Adam the Answer Man are ready to help. They'll walk you through diagnosing the problem so you don't waste money on the wrong part. They'll tell you what parts you'll need and usually have them in stock. They also have consumer-friendly hours. Most appliance parts stores keep banker's hours and sell to the trade, but Adam the Answer Man is open after 5 p.m. and on Saturday. They'll even tell you what tools you need. Now if only marriage counseling were this easy.
There are other prosthetics stores in Dallas, but none have been around as long as Hedgecock, and there's a reason for that. From its beginning in 1910, the locally owned company has made its focus patients, not profits. They know what it's like to have to shop for a new foot or leg or arm. Several members of the staff have prosthetics themselves, so they understand the physical and psychological difficulties that go with losing a limb, and they will take the time to get things just right. Way to step up.
The Public Trust
Public Trust owner/director Brian Gibb moved from Denton to a space on Commerce Street in 2006 and people crammed the joint, spilling out of the door and onto the asphalt. The Public Trust makes art a party and everyone's invited. Over the course of the last year, and through a transition from Art Prostitute into the Public Trust, the gallery has showcased impressively diverse exhibitions featuring local and national artists. We've seen skateboard art, simple drawings, tiny art, giant art, group shows, mad paintings, stuffed objects, photographs and more. And we're willing to bet those gallery peeps had fun through every show, which is part of what makes TPT a place you truly want to be. Their receptions are as friendly as house parties, often with crazy-good DJs and a little hooch to boot. The price of the work is friendly to the budget-minded and the well-heeled, just like the gallery itself.

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