It’s appropriate that Paul Draper based his design for Sevy’s Grill, chef Jim Severson’s new restaurant in Preston Center, on prairie style, the peculiarly American form of architecture associated with Frank Lloyd Wright. It has been said (was said to me in an art history class, if I remember correctly)…
The place was packed, as places usually are the evening following their first review. The waiters’ gait quickened to an invisible trot, that parallel-to-the-ground shuffle that’s adopted when you’re in a desperate hurry but don’t want anyone to perceive that you are actually panicked. Because one of the absolute rules…
Every spring the Dallas chapter of the American Institute of Wine and Food presents the “Ethnic Market Tour,” a chef-guided bus ride to some of Dallas’ secret sources for unusual foodstuffs. Guests ride from Indian grocery to Vietnamese market, loading up on nuac mam and samosas along the way. Considering…
I took a friend who’d been fired recently over to Legal Grounds in Lakewood for some coffee and legal advice, but once we settled into easy chairs with cups of Colombian and a cookie, unemployment didn’t look so bad. Certainly, it seemed better than trying to write about another coffee…
I’ve just about had it with home cooking. Dallas is awash in catfish and collard greens, filled with chicken-fried menus in homey digs manned (yes, that is the word I want) by substantial waitresses who should be named Mabel and call you honey, with places that are supposed to gratify…
Plenty of women attend the prestigious CIA (that’s Culinary Institute of America, the country’s premier culinary training ground) in Hyde Park, just outside New York City. But if you count the high-profile women chefs in Dallas, you won’t need all your fingers. It’s strange but true that although women still…
Most Dallasites already know what aroma they’ll encounter when they order food flavored with “kah” or “kaffir,” because Thai food has become a neighborhood option, like Mexican food or Vietnamese. (If you don’t know, “kah” is similar to ginger root–it’s also called “laos” or “galangal.” The leaves of the “Kaffir”…
Remember Grandpa Stupid in that classic children’s book, The Stupids Die? “This isn’t heaven, it’s Cleveland,” he explains to his descendants who can’t tell the difference. It’s so easy to mistake one place for another, but thankfully someone’s almost always there to set you straight. So I’m here to remind…
Unlike many of us, Dallas chef Jim Severson has had more than one good idea. His classic American food philosophy made Dakota’s a favorite for years (and suggests success for his own new restaurant, Sevy’s). Severson was also the brain behind the ever-popular Farmers Market Cooking Classes, a series of…
“Why isn’t this is in Dallas?” was the out-loud reaction of a friend when he first set eyes on USA Cafe. (From blocks away, I might add. You can’t miss it, and I’d like to try.) Good question. USA Cafe–big, trendy, and mega in every way (“23,000 square feet of…
Fort Worth has recently become a dining mecca, but back when it was still a gastronomic desert, one of its oases was Reflections. (Reflections is so classy it’s located on the mezzanine level–not the top–of the Worthington Hotel. In other words, the food’s so good, the place can eschew a…
We were in the mood for “something different,” that is, something that wasn’t pasta, wasn’t pesto, not new, not American–something, perhaps, that wasn’t even grilled. We wanted to taste something that was not a fresh idea. The solution, it seemed, was Russian food. There is, as yet, no “new” Russian…
The cheesesteak, a dish indigenous to Philadelphia, has crept like kudzu onto fast food menus all across the country, and for the most part, who cares? Seldom is this sandwich worth a deviation from the strict burger line. But New England Cheesesteaks, a humble little storefront shop in Plano run…
“I believe it’s $4.95?” our friendly waiter answered when we wondered how much the manager’s merlot selection o’ the day was. “Um, I believe it’s Monterey Jack?” he replied when we asked about the cheese on the chicken sandwich. It was just a trick of speech, that rise at the…
Years ago as an occasional getaway, we decorated the back of a van, furnished it with a rug, some folding chairs, and a champagne bucket, and headed down I-35 to dinner at Durham House in Waxahachie. The specialty there was peanut soup, but the real attraction was the graceful old…
A pack of Carltons, a tumbler of bourbon and Coke, and a tin of Altoids. All the accoutrements of a successful evening were lined up in a tidy row on the polished bar in front of the blonde in body-hugging blue. She swung one perky leg over the other as…
Wolfgang Puck serves imaginative, artistic-themed food at the Governor’s Ball–just like the gold originals, his chocolate Oscars are reserved for the glamorous few. But most of America watched the Academy Awards while eating pizza in front of the tube, and our only real creative expression was which pizza. Our pie…
Ley Jaynes, the peripatetic wine dealer, has moved again, and this may be his best space yet. Tucked into the center at Skillman and Live Oak, on Oram, the latest in the series of Grailey’s offers everything the old store did and more. There’s still the big space lined with…
A lot of us thought Larry Shapiro’s ears were endangered when we heard his plans for the new Marty’s: Had he lost his mind? Could Marty’s, the monolith of gourmet food in Dallas, really be so threatened by Brinker’s (admittedly brawny) baby Eatzi’s across the street that Shapiro needed to…
Perhaps I actually just grew out of a craving for the flavor, but I consider myself a recovered chocoholic. I no longer lust for the dark sweetness of chocolate desserts, and when there’s a choice, fruit or plain vanilla are the flavors I treat myself to. Still, sometimes only chocolate…
“Let’s do lunch.” This placebo promise usually replaces a real meal engagement–no one expects to actually eat lunch in the foreseeable future with anyone who suggests, “Let’s do lunch.” Modern lunch is a problematic meal, at best. For a white-collar working person, it’s an artificial respite–you’re just moving from desk…
It’s surrounded by tie-dye emporia overflowing with all the equipment you need either for inhaling perfectly legal substances or for dying your hair blue. But Anglophiles and resident Brits know all about the proper little store on Greenville Avenue stocked with all the essential British goods: shortbread, sure, and marmalade,…
