There's a lot of all-you-can-eat lunch buffets out there, the kind that let you dump ladle upon ladle of quick-set cellulite mix onto a plate and then go back for more after you've licked it to a sheen. The pity is that these places don't offer forklift service to your car when you've exhausted the "all" part of the you-can-eat designation. Well, you won't have to worry about being propelled by a Clark after you pay the check at Chef Hsu--which rings in at $5.25 for all your little paunch can hold without popping a rivet. Chef Hsu's "super buffet" actually contains food you'll want to dabble in two or three times: bright and crisp fresh vegetables, juicy fresh fruits, near-greaseless fried foods, terrific hot and sour soup, delicious heads-on prawns and great fried rice, just to mention a few of the foods slumped in this enormous set of binge beds. This has more buck-bang than a six-pack of Hormel hash.
Café Brazil now has a half-dozen locations, but this location is our favorite spot to stop for a pile of crepes and a bottomless cup of coffee for those nights when you're not quite ready to go home after the bars close. Come 2 a.m., especially on a weekend night, the place is wall-to-wall with people. The band may be done playing, but this crowd makes the show go on.
It's a long drive at highway speeds (35 or so miles south of Dallas). But that pales when you consider how difficult it is to complete a New Orleans jaunt without a head hum and a humiliating struggle with a Tylenol childproof cap. Chez Willie's is in Ennis, home of the "ultimate drag racing facility," otherwise known as Texas Motorplex, where people do short drives at 320 mph. But unlike the Motorplex, Chez Willie's isn't a huge megaplex. So consider yourself among the fortunate few when you park your bottom and open your chops to shovel in tasty boiled crawfish (in season), rich étouffée, spiced-to-an-arousing-prickle blackened meats and fish, topless New Orleans oysters and swamp critters such as fried frog legs and alligator. It must be easier to wrestle a gator onto a menu than a cap from a Tylenol bottle.
Crescent City Cafe
Isn't Louisiana considered one of the fattest states? Judging by the Louisiana cooking replicated in the Crescent City Cafe's muffuletta, it's no wonder. For the uninitiated, the muffuletta is a delectable sandwich with unusual flavor from a combination of ham and cheese and olives on a toasted loaf of sesame-seed-topped bread. The cafe sells the quarter muffuletta. Or you can get a half muffuletta, which is filling enough that you can skip meals for the next several days. Throw us some beads.