Brass balls. The first time I heard restaurateur Mark Brezinski, a founding partner of Tin Star and Pei Wei Asian Diner chains, was banking on the mainstreaming of Indian cuisine, I thought he must possess brass muskets. Attempting to Pei Wei Indian food is risky. Dallas, and most cities for…
Gui rests on history. This cubed structure on McKinney Avenue has slowly morphed, traversing cultures with global hybrids—some eventually dumbed down for your pleasure—simmering within. In mid-1990s it was Yellow, Avner Samuel’s I’m-here-again-gone-again-back-again eclectic global ingredient collage. Here you could savor beef sashimi (pre-wagyu) with pickled ginger and hijiki seaweed,…
Dollar Stores in the same shopping center: 2 Thrift stores in the same shopping center: 1 Other people with me who ordered the same food and had the same reaction: 2 Lesson: When you say, “I’d like the steak fingers,” and the waitress looks at you very seriously, and shaking…
The prettiest dishes at Café R&D aren’t coming out of the busy open kitchen; they’re posing around the oval stretch of bar, or curled into the deep booths at martini time. On a late spring evening, the kittens and cougars of the nearby Park Cities slink in before sundown to…
Crabs cheersing beer on the menu directly under “juniors get 1.00 off any lunch item” count: 2 A/C unit out count: 1 So, what are you supposed to do when you simultaneously get the urges to punch and hug one of the waitresses at Joe’s Crab Shack as she halfheartedly…
Ask any Dublin Dr Pepper bootlegger what the fuss is all about. They’ll tell you that the top-shelf, premier cru of Texas soda pop is selling for eight bucks a six-pack in some stores—when you can find it. Back in the 1970s, when soft-drink bottlers across the country began sweetening…
Gregory’s Restaurant is a loft-like establishment in an uppish urban two-story building of brick construction in a historic downtown—a split-level charm offensive. Large glass windows. Rooftop patio with French door portals. Cobblestone streets. Yet it’s in Plano. Fortifying the charm offensive is an earnest staff. A server waxes on proudly…
Indian chief statue count: 1 Eclipse gum packages I added to my meal so I could pay with my debit card: 1 Giant yellow indoor picnic table count: 2 When I go out to eat lunch, I don’t want to have to order from a spiral-bound menu with a bunch…
Padded ledges counting as seating: 4 Times my stomach punched me for not ordering fresh-squeezed papaya juice: 20 million I know three things about Venezuela: 1) It began as a small town, and because Syesha Mercado told it that if it believed in itself, it could do anything, it grew…
Medina Oven & Wine Bar is in Victory Park, so of course it is a restaurant with lounge-like accents. Nevertheless, there are no hookah pipes exhaling their fruity fume. There are no belly dancers oscillating their midriff folds like lapping shore waves, though a server admits the belly part is…
From early breakfast to late lunch, John’s Café doesn’t pretend to be anything but a neighborhood diner serving basic, filling meals with a few Greek offerings mixed in. There’s no pomp or circumstance and no bullshit. John’s is a quick, bustling grub hub happily settled on Lowest Greenville Avenue with…
Staff members with Bic pens jabbed into paper hats: 5 Minutes it took to find a parking spot within a three-mile radius: 10 As I walked into Bubba’s, I was so distracted by the wonderful smell of friedness that I barely got out the words, “I’ll have the Number Two.”…
Giant golden Buddhas: 1 Chopsticks: 0 I was at Preston and LBJ (mainly just to raise the ratio of adult people to small people in strollers, because I know that pisses off North Dallas) flipping off Chili’s like I always do on Wednesdays when I saw it: Scuba store? Hell,…
Scene, blessedly, is not much of one. Sure, it goes through a few strenuously correct motions, mingling beatnik inflections with aspirant bourgeois vernacular in the great hope of generating a new breed of cool in this chic, cavernous bassinet of new urbanism. Fixed in its own private, gated exhibition space…
It’s dedicated to the yearned for but often elusive O, subliminally, at least, judging by the comely scene coagulating around the sinuous bar—a cuff-linked wrist stroking a bronzed thigh, a French-tipped finger twisting in a belt loop one stool over. The crowd is lithe and sexed-up, dressed in jackets and…
Months it’s been open: 2 Trophies made into paper-towel holders: 20 If Coach’s Burgers knows one thing, it’s how to name a burger joint. In this town, it’s tough enough picking out a cool restaurant name, but on top of that, half of the good ones are already taken. Can’t…
Brick building that’s falling apart count: 1 Hours I smelled like Mexican food after I left Herrera’s: 4 Herrera’s has fuckin’ good tortillas. And before you tell me that resorting to vulgarities is childish and lame, I say screw you, you’re wrong. (And, because I pre-empted your judgery with an…
It’s Sunday, the only day of the week other than Monday to test-drive this particular Ounce Prime Steakhouse signature. A full dinner: prime rib, 14 ounces; salad or soup; crème brûlée or cheese cake; Yukon mashed potatoes; a button of polenta stamped with the ancient symbol for the ounce—a “z”…
People in the place at noon count: 6 Bike count: 2,000 million I got an e-mail a while back that I should check out Strokers Ice House on Harry Hines Boulevard. So, I looked up their Web site, and holy ta-tas, there are a lot of boobs there. I was…
Dining out with a vegan is like a date with Mr. Bean, the Rowan Atkinson character for whom things rarely go right. In our group of friends, it’s all about Mr. Green Bean, eschewer of meats and dairy products, chewer only of vegetables and grains and other edibles from sources…
In music you run headlong into cruelty when composing with an economy of notes, positioning single tones or sparse phrases in stark nakedness, sometimes bracketing them in empty measures so that each lingers on its own. They must be placed with exacting care to survive. There are no flurried note…
Minutes I waited for my food in Steel count: 45 Things I ordered that required cooking count: 0 I drove with purpose. I saw the red “S” on the black awning, double confirmed that I was in the right place at the sight of a couple of ass-clowns in ass-clown…
