Best Road Trip Fuel 2008 | The Green Spot Market and Fuels | Best of Dallas® 2020 | Best Restaurants, Bars, Clubs, Music and Stores in Dallas | Dallas Observer
Nick Rallo

So you gotta get out of town. The car is packed and ready to go, and now you need fuel and snacks. Don't turn to the usual Fritos and Orange Crush. The Green Spot has even better fuel for the drive. Try some Kashi cookies, Bare Naked granola, a bottled Izze or fountain Blue Sky soda, and don't forget some Seventh Generation paper products just to be on the safe side. Plus, you don't have to feel so bad about the growing bag of trash in the car—the Green Spot's fountain drink containers and straws are all compostable and made from corn. And if you're getting behind the wheel of a diesel, Bruce Bagelman and Alvaro Garza's pumps can supply you with B5 biodiesel, or B100 from a separate straight-to-vehicle pump (they also offer basic gasoline). Add in the vegan options and fresh, gourmet local snacks and you might be in for the healthiest road trip fill-up you've ever had. When it comes to naturals and affordable alt-fuels, Dallas folks can finally stop asking, "Are we there yet?"

We know this guy from Boston. Sort of The Friends of Eddie Coyle meets The Departed. We're not saying he's a wiseguy, 'cause there's a little Fever Pitch thrown in there too, but the dude knows his meatball sandwiches. It's no surprise, really, that he found one at the Greenville Avenue Pizza Company, 'cause whoever runs the place has got a little Goodfellas in him. The restaurant opened last October, and already it has a reputation. More than one person has come up to us and said, "You won't believe this pizza, it's the best pizza you've ever had." And it's nothing compared with the meatball sandwich. Trust our friend from Boston. He knows a meatball when he sees one.

Scones are funny. They're not doughnuts. A good scone has backbone. Scones are morning things. A scone needs to be fresh and hearty. But then, this is America. We don't want scones that taste English—you know, like a mouthful of baking soda. We want some sweets in there somewhere—raspberries, blueberries, cranberries. Give us a break. Something. Once in a while, we might even want a nice, white blanket of sugary icing on top. If the English don't like it, well, they can go eat their own kind of dry, dusty, bitter little scones. Anyway, Whole Foods has got it just right, and at $1.99 apiece, Whole Foods scones are an affordable treat in the morning. An American treat.

Chef Joseph Mahr's diver is a titillating tango of Latin and Southwestern, its veneer seared into a slight, consistent brittleness shrouding buttery succulence that veers into extracted sweetness on the finish. It's bedded down on a knoll of smooth polenta richened in chicken stock, cumin, cream and orange honey, a pool of lobster broth surrounding the island, the spinach floating in the pool like kelp beds. It's a surf and turf that's wonderful in its weirdness and makes the tongue dance.

Fish City is a mid-price to reasonable franchise place, but don't think that it has anything to do with fast food. This is a full-bore seafood restaurant, locally owned and operated, offering a revolving menu of specials including wonderfully succulent salmon dishes, blackened trout and more—everything served by a cheerful, well-trained staff. The decor is informally tasteful. A small patio in front offers a very interesting view of the circus of life in Old East Dallas. This is a neighborhood place you can drop in on without a reservation and enjoy a really well-prepared seafood dinner and great service, all at a relatively modest price. That's a lot to beat.

Funny thing about Mel's Ice Cream: It used to be a Marble Slab Creamery, and the marble slab remains—unlike Mel, who has gone the way of Marble Slab Creamery and is no longer the proprietor. The current owner is Dae Cho, who daily scoops out about 40 flavors of ice cream, many of them overtly delish, especially mixed together with all the holdover slabbish toppings—Oreo cookies, M&Ms, Gummy Bears—you name it. But Cho has added something cool and refreshing—actually cold and refreshing—shaved ice, 40-50 flavors of it, with names like Tiger Blood (strawberry and coconut syrup), Fuzzy Navel (orange, peach and lemonade) and Rock & Roll (blueberry and grape). The fine ice shavings when topped with the sugary syrup of your choice offer a less creamy alternative to the normal, run-of-the-mill Reese's Pieces-infused double-chocolate fudge ice cream fare that can make summer such a dreadful bore.

Sometimes it's hard to know what you're going to be in the mood to read. A fashion rag, a novel, a good nonfiction narrative or just a book of pretty pictures. Thanks to Gachet Coffee Lounge & Books, there's no need to lug around a back-breaking bag of reading materials to ensure a good coffee break. And you don't even have to settle for the discarded sections of someone else's newspaper—they already took the good coupons anyway. No, the Victory Park café not only has a top-notch latte (DRY sodas and other non-caffeinated sips too), but it has a varied and well-stocked book boutique too. The 500-square-foot area boasts faves like Vanity Fair as well as more obscure monthlies, hardbacks, best sellers and coffee table fare. Sip with confidence—Gachet's got a perfect literary match for whatever flavor you're tossing back.

In the late '50s, Joseph Marco Nuccio started serving pizza at his Marco Pollo Lounge on Carroll Avenue. Then in '62, he moved his pizzeria to its current location at Preston Road and Royal Lane. Not sure how much a piece of pie and a cold drink cost back then, but today Pizza By Marco will serve you up a slice of pizza loaded with three topping of your choice and a soda for a measly $2—yeah, you read that right. A family business since the day they served their first piping-hot pie, Marco's doesn't serve up a greasy, cheap-o slice either. Every morning, Joseph's son, Frank Nuccio gets up early to prepare the pizza sauce and dough fresh from a closely guarded family recipe. The slices are amazing, and the crust is perfectly thin and crispy, and they offer all the standard toppings to choose from plus vegan soy versions of cheese, pepperoni, sausage and hamburger. Frank has recently opened two other locations that offer a one-topping slice of pizza and drink special for $2.50, which we still think qualifies as a best deal.

It's nearly ubiquitous in Japanese restaurants, but all too often the fried soft-shell crab is a mushy, spindly-legged blob that at its worst assumes the texture of a sodden sponge that sometimes squirts. At Gui, this cliché becomes sublime. It's called spider on a leaf, a panko bread crumb-coated creature burrowed into a sheaf of greens, its claws bared, its legs folded inward like the predator at rest, sprung to pounce if need be, those panko crumbs fried into perfect spider-pelt mimicry. It's crisp but tender, moist but not slushy. The bite crushes the delicately brittle exoskeleton and in floods a gentle rush of arousing marine funk. This might be the best example of the fried soft-shell crab we've ever tasted. If it really is a crab.

A few weeks back we made the horrific mistake of leaving the ice chest at home; but, hey, we should have known this Saturday would wind up like most—with a trip to the Dallas Farmers Market. Specifically, Shed 1, site of the homegrown goodies. Down toward the end was a table set up for relative newcomer Savoy Sorbet, the result of two years' worth of planning and prep. For the moment, we'll say only this: The sorbets are made entirely with locally grown herbs that are infused into a frozen concoction that, swear to God, tastes like something you pray for but don't dare actually expect when you hear flavors like "rosemary Chablis" or "apple mint" or "chocolate mint" or "rose geranium-raspberry," among the divine seasonal offerings now for sale at Shed 1 on weekends, till they run out. And we'll demand this: Bring your cooler.

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