If you’ve been to Bolsa in Oak Cliff, then you understand the intense flavor of locally grown vegetables and herbs. Chef Graham Dodds and his team don’t have a walk in freezer to work with, so they must change up about half of the restaurant’s menu every day as nearby farmers deliver the goods.
Last evening the basil exploded from their Texas tomato bruschetta. And they featured mussels shipped in from Prince Edward Island—not really a local product, but they steamed the critters in good old Lone Star beer.
Well, on Saturday, November 15, Bolsa the restaurant’s organic suppliers will set up a farmer’s market on restaurant grounds from noon until 3 or 4 p.m.—“as long as people show and until they run out of product,” says owner Christopher Zielke. If things go well, he plans to add this to his restaurant, market, beer garden (that last is really just wishful thinking on my part) concept.
In his spare time, by the way, chef Dodds keeps bees and packs their efforts into jars of the very same honey served at the place. Their goat cheese comes from the local herds. The sausage king of Dallas, Jimmy’s, provides cured meat. Oh, and Lone Star—on tap—hails from San Antonio.
The restaurant opened in the height of growing season. Come winter, expect to see more squash and such. No preserves, Zielke promises.
***
There’s a lot scheduled for November 15, so it may be best to divide your forces. In addition to Bolsa’s farmer’s market, Hotel St. Germain celebrates their 17th anniversary—yes, the dreaded furniture anniversary—with a multi-course dinner created by chef Chad Martin, starting at 7 p.m. and fueled by French wines, which will make it a lot easier to part with the $150 per person charge.
Of course, the Dallas Margarita Society hosts the much anticipated, formal drunkfest for charity, the Dallas Margarita Ball that same evening.
Hmmm…free-flowing cocktails or quiet, refined evening?
***
This is Mike, an actual New England fisherman.
Judging by the photo, he doesn’t drink beer, he guzzles it—from cans. He drives a ’72 Malibu and keeps a chum tank in his backyard. But he also goes out everyday to scoop live scallops from frigid Atlantic waters off Nantucket, shipping them directly to The Mansion on Turtle Creek.
Scallop season opened yesterday. Starting this evening, chef John Tesar…make that, chef John Tesar as seen in Esquire…will shuck them to order, slice them sashimi-style or cook a batch in his scallop-apple smoked bacon-fall vegetables casserole.
“Being a Hamptons boy, John’s shucked a few scallops in his day,” assures Stephanie Hutson, PR manager of the Mansion.
Mike’s fresh plucked shellfish will be available until they decide to spawn.
***
Free wine.
That’s right, Veritas, the wine bar on Henderson, hosts a free tasting this Saturday (that’s November 8) from 2:30 p.m. to 5:30 p.m. On the menu: 2004 Domaine de Montvac Vacqueyras, which Wine Spectator compared to fig paste, hoisin sauce and fruitcake—which sounds rather bleak for a 92 point bottle, really; a 2005 Petroni Syrah, the 2005 Spann Merlot and a few others.
***
The oven baked sandwich prepared at Domino’s in Little Elm should be past the halfway point of its journey to a “customer” in Mumbai. Franchise owner Kevin See hopes to set a world record for longest delivery (and perhaps grab some attention away from, oh, the election) by hauling the thing 8,800 miles to his father-in-law.
Talk about whipped.
***
Just a reminder: Chef Nobu Matsuhisa will make a rare appearance at his restaurant on Thursday, November 6, to help launch his fourth cookbook, written with the help of Thomas Buckley of Nobu Miami. The party kicks off at 6 p.m. and costs $140 per person if you want a signed cookbook, $110 if you just want to eat, drink, and bask.
***
Nothing against Mike, the presumed swilling, rust bucket-driving guy who bends nature to his will (or at least desecrates nature's scallop beds), but some pretty rugged hombres are responsible for hauling Alaskan king crab from the even more frigid area around the Bering sea. Oceanaire Seafood Room in the Westin Galleria gets them fresh, for as long as supplies last or fishermen survive—about one month, either way. --Dave Faries