image from seriouseats.com

I’m a cereal eater. I also like to eat my cereal with 2% milk, soy milk, and rice milk – chilled or not chilled. It doesn’t matter. Sometimes when I visit my grandmothers in Taiwan, I’ll have a small panic attack because there’s no milk and cereal to be found within a ten-minute radius. When I do have access to my usual glorious boxes of Kashi or Fiber One, I’ll pour my milk until it touches the bottom of my floating flakes, quickly eat my breakfast before it becomes a soggy mess, and then slurp up the leftover milk in a hurry because it is always unsettling to find solid, sugary bits camping out in my bowl. It feels like my milk has been violated.

While I was catching up with a college buddy the other day, my friend was eating a bowl of late night cereal and gushing about his cereal milk. This has happened to me so many times before. Can someone please explain this phenomenon to me? (Though, I must admit, this cereal milk recipe doesn’t look half-bad after you strain all the solid bits out.)

What are your cereal habits? Do you like to eat it dry? Are you a cereal mixer? Do you not eat cereal at all? Hopefully, that’s not the case. That would be too much crazy talk.

(photo by Regina Peterman)

I’m not at all ashamed to profess my love for donuts.  Some may label these decadent morsels of fried dough a “guilty pleasure,” but when I sink my eager teeth into the perfect donut, I feel no guilt at all, simply a euphoric rush of gustatory satisfaction which no other breakfast pastry can provide.  Last year, I presented my list of the Best Donuts in Dallas, but since that time, we’ve seen some notable changes on the Dallas donut frontier.  The beloved Hypnotic Donuts traded in their inconspicuous habitation of a pizza joint in North Dallas for a vibrant new shop in East Dallas.  Other donut shops, such as Pookie’s Donuts on Lemmon Ave, who donut bombed D Magazine a few weeks ago, and Denton Square Donuts who I visited previously, are also getting in on the donut love currently wafting through the air around Dallas.

Jump for a hole lot more…

Banana Pudding Donut (Photo by Regina Peterman)

And now the latest in the world of donut indulgence comes to us from Forney, TX, a tiny town just east of Mesquite.  Not a place I normally travel to, but for exceptional donuts, my stomach and gas tank know no bounds.  I was first turned onto The Hole Thing by the diligent blogger, the walking sweet-tooth, Jayme Campbell of Confection Confessions, one of the few people I know whose love for donuts rivals my own. And so it was that early last Saturday morning, I made the mini-road trip to Forney, to see if The Hole Thing could stack up to some of the donut joints in my regular rotation.

(Photo by Regina Peterman)

Navigating Forney, despite its small size can be incredibly annoying, especially with construction filled roads, a smartphone Google Map on the fritz, and naught but a lousy Facebook map pin to point me in the right direction.  But by the grace of the donut gods and my keen sense of donut-trained olfaction, I pulled into The Hole Thing by 7:30 AM, plenty of time to get my hands on the good stuff.

The Hole Thing starts where most donut shops do, offering the standard array of plain glazed, chocolate glazed, old fashioned sour cream, etc.  But they are assuredly amping things up a bit with their wide assortment of novelty and specialty items, and they are going well beyond the now nearly ubiquitous maple and bacon bar.  I skipped the plain and opted for the unusual to see what this place really had to offer.  Luckily, I was more than pleased in my selections.

(Photo by Regina Peterman)

Blueberry Fritter (Photo by Regina Peterman)

Among the most memorable items was from their line of ”pie-based” donuts including blueberry cream frosted with blueberry pie filling, banana cream pie topped with crunchy banana chips, apple pie with chopped apples, vanilla and cinnamon crumb, lemon cream pie, key lime, and coconut cream. Other showstoppers include the wonderful banana pudding filled donut with wafer cookie crumble and banana chips, the piña colada donut with pineapple, whipped cream and coconut and the pineapple upside-down cake donut with a sweet brown sugar glaze, and (gasp!) a red velvet donut with chocolate drizzle.  As a huge supporter of fritters, I was ecstatic to see their work with these giants among donuts, with blueberry, apple, banana honey glazed, and a banana chocolate chip with peanut butter and chocolate fudge drizzle.

Coconut Cream, Blueberry Cream, and Key Lime Donuts (Photo by Regina Peterman)

Trust me, the options do not stop there. Candy bars, cookies, and cereals find their way onto many of The Hole Thing’s offerings. In addition to donuts, they are running a line of barbecue pockets including chopped brisket filled rolls and smoked pulled pork filled rolls, as well as cinnamon rolls, whoopie pies, and muffins.

I asked co-owner, Katie Vrana, what kind of things they had in mind for the future and among other ideas are a “donut bread pudding with bourbon caramel sauce,” and with the approach of summer they plan on incorporating peaches and berries from a local orchard and berry farm. Drooling yet?

Red Velvet Cake Donut (Photo by Regina Peterman)

The Hole Thing is headed by a trio of women, sisters Katie Vrana and Stephanie Winther, and their niece, Jennifer Thrash. They eventually brought on Scott Martin as head baker, a 15-year bakery veteran from Rhode Island who brought his experience to the team to ensure that what they produce at The Hole Thing is more than the text-book, just-add-water donut mix offerings which plague many run-of-the-mill donut joints around town. For only being open since early December 2011, they are already building a loyal following.  No surprise though, as attention to quality, creativity, and a little risk-taking often pays off in this town. I look forward to great things from these people.

The Hole Thing

571 S. FM 548 Ste 128

Forney, TX

(972) 564-4653

Blueberry Cream Donut (Photo by Regina Peterman)

(Photo by Regina Peterman)

Pee-wee Herman stops by for a surprise visit.

PROLOGUE

Jonesy’s gone, but five chefs are left
In fair San Antonio, where we lay our scene.
It’s still unclear whose knife skills are best,
At least we know Ed sleeps in suits, not blue jeans.

Jump for the rest of sonnet.

ACT 1: QUICKFIRE

Padma stood in front of 80,000 pancakes (were they real??), which made a trip to IHOP look verrry tempting at the moment. But then a withered version of Pee-wee Herman showed up riding a red bicycle in his signature suit and bow tie – an ode to childhood memories – and thoughts of IHOP disappeared. The chefs made fancy schmancy pancakes for Pee-wee because they’re his favorite food. Grayson tried making a Minnie Mouse-shaped pancake, and Pee-wee (ever the nice guy) said, “That’s the best pancake I’ve ever had.” Then he repeated that same line after trying all five chefs’ pancakes, which made him the nicest judge on this planet. (Albeit, still a bit creepy.) Ed won the challenge with his burnt edges pancake, which did not look appealing in the least bit. Not at all.

Act 2: ELIMINATION

The chefs had to ride around San Antonio on red bicycles, buy their own ingredients, and bust into somebody’s kitchen to cook Pee-wee a family-style dinner that he’ll eat inside the Alamo. Sarah became a Lost Chef after getting her directions confused, but she still managed to steal Lindsay’s kitchen while Lindsay was out scavenging for… berries or something. Lindsay was pissed when her ONLY FRIEND, Sarah, betrayed her, and turned into a super witch (surprise, surprise) at the next kitchen she found. Meanwhile, inside a mansion kitchen, Ed was getting bossed around by this one dude and had to cook him two eggs over easy. Didn’t the dude know that Ed was competing on Top Chef? Wow, you just made yourself look like a douche on national television.

After all the cooking, the chefs had to bike their dishes over to the Alamo. Most impressive moment of the entire show: when Grayson balanced her chicken dish with one hand and biked with other. Hot dang.

The judges lounged inside the Alamo, tasting all the chicken dishes that the cheftestants prepared for Pee-wee. Dinner conversation sounded like an exchange between five-year-olds. We almost had to hide under a chair like Ed from all the maturity going around.

Padma: Now, when you think of the Alamo, what will you think of?

Pee-wee: Chicken.

Padma: I know you are, but what am I?

Pee-wee: I’m rubber; you’re glue. Whatever bounces off me, sticks onto you.

When the judges finally remembered how old they were, out came the criticisms. Sarah’s egg salad wasn’t well-seasoned, Grayson’s runny egg-yolk chicken was too big and overwhelming (just like that Wisconsin steak), Ed’s chicken was a tad undercooked, and Paul’s roasted chicken was one of the judges’ favorites. Lindsay won even though she had the least time to cook. Then Grayson got the axe for her Texas-sized portions.

But that wasn’t the end.

Up until this point, the chefs didn’t know about Last Chance Kitchen. They learn that the eliminated chefs had been competing amongst each other in order to rejoin the cast for the finale. Next week, the winner of Last Chance Kitchen (either Bev or Grayson) will be released back into the jungle.

ACT 3: EPISODE 14 PREVIEW

A scary clip in which Paul Qui is crying and mumbling, “I’m sorry.” Is he going home next week?? You can’t kick the Texan out of Texas!

Hippie donuts will be served in a groovy setting.Photography by Desiree Espada.

SideDish photographer Desiree Espada roams the roads with her camera looking for good things to eat and shoot. Check out her photo essay of Bolsa Mercado. Then feast your eyes on what to expect when the Jerry Garcia of donut making, James St. Peter, opens Hypnotic Donuts on Sunday, January 29.

Glory be to the donut.

Interior seating. Kate Nelson of Piecurious makes curious donuts. Photography by Desiree Espada.

James St. Peter rings up a sale. Photography by Desiree Espada.

The Zoo Ropa with iced animal cookies. Photography by Desiree Espada.

Jenni's evil Elvis: peanut butter with banana and bacon. Photography by Desiree Espada.

Greek yogurt parfait and The Hypnotic. Photography by Desiree Espada.

The Canadian Health Care. Photography by Desiree Espada.

The Biscuit Board. Photography by Desiree Espada.

Biscuit with peanut butter and jelly. Photography by Desiree Espada.

Fried chicken biscuit and gravy. Photography by Desiree Espada.

Hypnotic Donuts: Inside out. Photography by Desiree Espada.

Team Hypnotic: Rachel Villarreal, Kate Nelson,and James Baker. Photography by Desiree Espada.

It’s hard not to feel cooler when you are eating at SMOKE.  The place reeks of hip.  It’s the kind of place James Dean would meet Jay-Z for brunch if the opportunity presented itself.  But attitude can only go so far if you ain’t got the goods to back it up.  Luckily, as most people know, Tim Byres, owner of SMOKE, dishes up some truly big flavors, matched only by Byre’s apparent love for capitalization.

I’ve spent a good deal of time exploring the biscuit and gravy scene around town.  I’ve generally found that a few places can produce an excellent biscuit, but an exemplary and hearty gravy is really where most fall short, often producing a lifeless blend of flour and water which does more to detract from the biscuit than complement it.  However, the handmade biscuits with spicy sausage gravy from SMOKE, have managed to remain a frontrunner in my mind’s race for best B&G in the city.

Of course, this classic combination must start off with honorable biscuits, and SMOKE’s version rises to the test.  Each little biscuit arrives to your table sliced in half, with its soft and fluffy insides beckoning to meet your lips, and the outer crust remaining slightly crunchy yet still tender.  But it’s the gravy that sets these apart.  The creamy sausage gravy provides enough richness and spice to kick any biscuit into high gear.  It’s the kind of gravy that does not allow for any extra to just go lying around on the plate even after the biscuits are devoured, as you soon find yourself scouring the table for a scrap of toast, meat, or shoe leather to spoon up every last drop.  Lastly, the entire dish is laced with a drizzle of smokey, sweet barbecue sauce.  Only in Texas, right? And you should thank your lucky stars for it, folks.  It’s a dish that transforms the commonplace to the in-your-face, the perfect choice if you can ever convince yourself not to order the heavy-handed blueberry ricotta pancakes.

follow me for more @deepinthegut

I don’t know if I told you, but I have a thing for donuts.  Maybe that’s a bit of an understatement.  But it’s rare, in this city, to find a place that is willing to push the limits when it comes to these tasty morsels of fried dough and sugar (obvious exceptions excluded).  Therefore, any donut news is good news in my book, and any upstart entrepreneur that is daring enough to risk their livelihood, families, pets, and entire life’s savings on the humble donut is A-OK with me.

When the buzz around Denton Square Donuts began to surface a number of months ago, I was intrigued to say the least.  The obviously non-traditional shape of these donuts is enough to rouse one’s attention, but most donuteers will recall similarly shaped offerings at the mighty Doughnut Plant in NYC.  The toppings which adorn DSD’s baked goods are also enough to get the salivary juices flowing: Brie with Apricot Jelly, Cream Cheese and Jalapeno Jelly, Apple Pie, and the nearly-ubiquitous Bacon and Maple.  Yet still, some may argue that places like Hypnotic, Gourdoughs in Austin, and Voodoo in Portland have been offering up equally ambitious donuts for years.

(L-to-R: The Samoan, Lemon, Apple Pie)

Still, there is enough originality and adventure at Denton Square Donuts to justify a mini-excursion to this quaint corner of the world know as Denton Square.  Undoubtedly, the most chatter/uproar/praise is likely to stem from the unorthodox texture of these donuts.  Indeed, to say that they more closely mirror a baked turnover is not a far cry.  One should not expect the golden greasy bits of fried dough we have all come to expect from a donut (mind you, I am in love with these golden grease traps).  Instead, Denton Square’s are baked up light and flakey, but still sweet and tender.  Jellies, creams, and icings are made with love and each donut is hand-crafted with care.

Of the handful of items on the menu board, I sampled as many as I thought my stomach could handle (and he gave it a pretty solid performance, I must say). I quickly fell in love with the “Samoan” with vanilla icing, toasted coconut, chocolate chips and caramel bits.  The “Cinnamon Doughst” was also a pleaser, with creamy vanilla frosting, vanilla glaze, and a sprinkle of cinnamon/sugar, all complementing the lightness of the donut perfectly.  The Bacon Maple was well executed and incorporated the much-loved combination of salty and sweet admirably.

Although DSD’s rendition of this classic American comfort food could never replace my beloved standard fried version, it’s nice to know that after a night of grease-drunk debauchery, filled with fried bubblegum, fried butter, and fried salsa, one can wake up to the lighter side of breakfast and still go home a happy camper.

Denton Square Donuts

208 W Oak Street

Denton, TX

Tomato mozzarella and pesto sandwich with drip coffee.Kristy Alpert munches some grindage at this Deep Ellum coffee shop

Kristy Alpert munches some grindage at this Deep Ellum coffee shop.

Overview: Murray Street Coffee is the type of place I could live; if only owners Liz and Doug Davis would allow cots in the backroom. It’s two stories with three rooms that can take you from the serious “don’t mess with me I’m on deadline” room with plastic chairs on the first level, to the “ah I finished and now I can relax” room with overstuffed chairs on the second floor, to finally the “coffee has kicked in and I have to get this energy out” room with one common farm-style table of board games. They’re known for their coffee (Coffee Eiland roasters based in Richardson, same coffee used in the Pearl Cup’s Pearl Latte), but their light/airy/funky/clean vibe make this a great place to grab a bite between caffeine fixes.

Menu: Most everything at this coffee shop is locally-sourced (from coffee in Richardson to muffins and cookies from Central Market), and their sandwiches are no exception. Meats and olives come from Jimmy’s Food Store, mozzarella comes from The Mozzarella Company a few blocks away, and their tomatoes come from Lemley’s produce stand at the Dallas Farmers Market. Breakfast is served all day and ranges from a granola parfait ($5.50), The Blinker (a scrambled egg and prosciutto sandwich on an English muffin, $5.50), a bagel with lox ($5), to Eggo Waffle with fresh fruit, syrup and whipped crème ($4.50). Their sandwiches include The Insider vegetarian—can be made vegan—for $8 and a PB&J on Ezekiel bread with banana, honey, jam or jelly for $5.50. All sandwiches can also be prepared gluten free.

Turkey and arrugla sandwich.

View from upstairs.

What we ate: Luckily I saw someone else eating a full sandwich as I walked in, so I knew immediately a whole would be too much. With that in mind, I ordered the half tomato mozzarella sandwich with basil pesto from Central Market, ripe tomatoes (yellow and red) and fresh mozzarella on olive oil and sea salt ciabatta bread made specially by Whole Foods. The sandwich came and a peanut butter cookie came to $4.50. I added a water and a drip coffee ($2) to wash it down. My friend ordered the half turkey sandwich with smoked turkey, sharp cheddar, arugula, and homemade chipotle aioli on the same soft ciabatta bread with an oatmeal raisin cookie ($4.50). Overall, the tomato mozzarella sandwich was both of our favs. The tomatoes were vintage Texas fresh and the bread was perfectly soft with that nice ciabatta crust. Oh, and their coffee is excellent.

Extras: They also sell a hummus plate that comes with traditional and red bell pepper humus, naan, olives, roasted red pepper, feta cheese, and tomatoes for $7.50, and they carry Tamale Company tamales if you can catch them before they sell out. One of the best things about this place is, along with their amazing coffee, they also have a pretty nice selection of beers and wines to help make playing Candy Land with strangers at the common table that much more intense … and memorable!

103 Murray Street, Dallas 75226

Oddfellows’ duck hash

I’ve followed the popular Bishop Arts restaurant since its birth. Great coffee and pancakes. But the omelettes? Meh, not so much. They were more like frittatas and always had those dry, crispy edges that I detest in egg dishes. “Plus, they take the kitchen way too long to make,” confided a server. So, begone, dry lackluster omelettes, and hello, scrambles and duck hash. Scrambled egg dishes include salmon with goat cheese, truffled egg with mozzarella and asparagus, and — my favorite — eggs scrambled with roasted pork shoulder, hatch chiles, mozzarella, and tortilla strips served with a side of salsa verde. Another new addition: duck hash with two over easy eggs, ranchero sauce, and hollandaise. The only bummer? You can’t get those wonderful fried green tomatoes for breakfast anymore. Sigh.

(photo by Kevin Marple, styling by Angela Yeung)

If you’ve traveled through Thailand, Cambodia, and Vietnam then you are familiar with this popular dish. Although pho hasn’t quite made it to the mainstream breakfast menus in Dallas, it’s the common way to start your day in many countries. Recently Sarah Reiss ate pho for breakfast, lunch, and dinner and several bowls in between and files this story on pho.

Though pho (pronounced fuh) is far from new to North Texas, the recent surge of openings has reintroduced the signature soup of Vietnam to the mainstream. For newbies, let us explain the allure. It’s a savory broth (generally beef, chicken, or pork) seasoned with coriander, basil, star anise, and green onion; ladled over flat rice noodles and paper-thin tenderloin, brisket, chicken, or pork; and garnished with fresh bean sprouts, herbs, lime quarters, and varying quantities of hot chili paste. It might not sound much different than any other soup, but it tastes like magic.

Here is a a pho primer and a list of our favorite places. Tell us yours.

The Deep Bowl at Company Cafe is delicious.

Late yesterday afternoon Steven “ubiquitous” Doyle sent me a link to a post he wrote about Company Café. He wanted me to link to it. Here’s a clip:

We spoke to Stephen White today, owner of Company Café, the relatively new restaurant on lower Greenville Avenue that brings to its clientele fresh, gluten free food with an organic twist, and he confirmed what we had heard about his new location which has broken ground across from the Katy Trail Ice House at 3136 Routh Street in Uptown Dallas.

I just called the restaurant and they quickly jumped to “no comment” when I asked about the move. The dude on the phone didn’t sound too happy. “No deals finalized. I’m not allowed to comment on this.” Curious. However, I just reached White and he says “it’s months away but we have city approval.” He didn’t sound too happy.

The donut is America’s unsung hero.

For decades these delicacies have been fueling this nation’s finest law enforcement officers, and without them your streets would be overrun with all kinds of riffraff. Countless early morning board meetings have been brightened by the magical combination of sugar and fried dough. And where would Homer Simpson be without his signature pink icing with sprinkles? Not season 587, I assure you!

Despite their iconic nature, frankly speaking, truly exceptional donuts are not easy to find in Dallas.  I don’t think I am alone in my sentiments towards the Dallas donut scene.  While this city is surely not lacking in the sheer number of independent donut shops, it is eerie how incredibly similar and mundane most neighborhood shops have become.

But for the valiant donuteer, all hope is not lost.  I have scoured this land for three years searching for something extraordinary.  Of course, it would be unrealistic for a person to try every donut shop in this city (and still live to tell about it).  So I’ve hunted for suggestions from every corner I could think of (blogs, Chowhound, Yelp, Urban Spoon, magazines, newspapers, Twitter, Facebook, the cops at Waffle House) and ate my way through enough donut shops to personally ensure the future of Lipitor. Luckily, fantastic donuts do exist in this city.

Here I present to you, in no particular order, the five best places for donuts in and around Dallas.

1.   Mustang Donuts (Pictured above) One of my first weeks in Dallas, I was cruising down Hillcrest Avenue, for some reason, on a Saturday morning.  Suddenly I beheld a line stretching out the door of a humble donut shop and down the sidewalk. Needless to say, I hit the brakes, and partook of Mustang Donuts for the first time.  For years Mustang has been shamelessly assisting the SMU crowd achieve its “freshman 15.”  Some say a Mustang bear claw temporarily boosts your IQ at least 10 points, critical before taking that econ test you crammed all night for.   Don’t leave without sampling their legendary apple fritter.  Warm fried dough and crisp, sweet apple gently embrace under a silky sheet of translucent sugar glaze.  It’s all together ethereal.

The holes from Shin's

2.  Shin’s Donuts: From the outside, Shin’s looks no different from the countless other donut shops haunting every corner of this city.  Yet to say Shin’s is special is a terrible understatement.  These donuts are so light and airy, you actually weigh less after eating them.  The decadent maple bars and blueberry cake donuts are not to be missed, but it is the hot, fresh donut holes that propel this humble establishment from simple to sublime.  Owner Paul Shin will tell you he has a secret ingredient that gives these donuts their heavenly texture, but he’d sooner throw himself into a vat of scalding donut oil than share it.

3.     Jerry’s Donuts: When a place has been doing one thing for more than 41 years, and keeping a loyal following the entire time, you know they are doing things right.  The epitome of a “hidden gem,” Jerry’s has been humbly treating the small city of Farmers Branch to traditional-yet-terrific donuts.  While Jerry is no longer with us, the seasoned veterans running the shop haven’t let the standard of quality slip one whit.  Don’t leave without sampling the superb cinnamon/sugar-coated cake donut.  Jerry’s version manages to keep the inside light and moist while creating a tender crust on the outside, every nook sparkling with sugary sensuality.

Zeppole from Cane Rosso

4.     Zeppole from Cane Rosso: I realize it’s a bit of a stretch to include the much-celebrated Cane Rosso in a donut list, but I’m sure anyone who’s had the pleasure of having their deep-fried Italian donuts will not fault me for its inclusion.  The batter is laced with ricotta, giving them a unique texture which is soft yet gently crumbly.  “Melt-in-your mouth” may be cliché, but it is undeniably applicable.  Of course, a side of chocolate dipping sauce can never hurt either.

What hyppie dreams are made of

5.     Hypnotic Donuts: Owner James St. Peter has done more to spark the revolutionary fire behind the Dallas donut movement than any other man in this city.  Why, after just over a year of being in business, do flocks of devoted “hyppies” still drive hours every weekend for a taste of this madman’s fried creations?  Why do droves pack themselves into a tiny unmarked pizza shop at 7 a.m. on a weekend?  Because it’s a Hypnotic donut.  Once you know, you go.   If you haven’t had the Canadian Healthcare, you better clear up some space on your bucket list.

Chef John Tesar sheds his doucheyness and becomes Extreme Chef winner. He can run 10 miles and cook in a corn field.

Last night John Tesar played a 53-year old geezer chef on a thrilling episode of Food Network’s Extreme Chef. He faced two younger chefs: Joe, a douchey New York dude who was once a private chef for Donald Trump; and Greg, a Portland chef who couldn’t cut it in medical school so he quit and went to the CIA.

Tesar was confident from the start. “I run 10 miles a day,” Tesar gloated. After that, he works all day and night. The competition took place on a 60-acre farm in Malibu Canyon and the premise had the chefs running all over the place to source ingredients.

HEARTY BREAKFAST was the segment. To obtain eggs, the chefs had to conquer a “crop-stical course” made of bales of hay formed into various tunnels and towers. Tesar, a virtual Jack LaLane, was first to the eggs (he picked duck!) and he won the first competition soundly with his ginger and duck egg French toast. (I think there was a fruit salad and some whiskey involved, but I can’t read my notes, and I refuse to rerun the show.) It only matters that when the Simon Cowell wannabe (and lookalike) host announced Tesar as the winner, Tesar took a modest Zen-like bow. Tesar is now the master of “the unconventional use of an egg.”

No, it’s not over. There are still 45 minutes left in the show. Here we go.

EXTREME CHALLENGE! Obnoxious host outlines new rules. Through the screeching music swollen with hundreds of violins, I hear him tell the chefs they have to harvest their own vegetables from the sprawling farm dotted with cute scarecrows. PLUS, they have to roll them around in a wheelbarrow. As winner of round one, or whatever they call it, Tesar not only gets to pick his protein, he has the power to decide what meat the other chefs get. Tesar shoves Joe the pork. (We hate Joe by now and are glad to see he gets the slowest cooking meat!) Sorry, I didn’t write down Dr. Greg’s protein.

The three chefs take off with their wheelbarrows. Tesar looks like he has been pushing one around his whole life. (hidden metaphor) Joe looks like a sweaty vegetable abuser as he rips a fistful of leeks from the ground and throws them into his hot wheelbarrow. Meanwhile, Dr. Greg seems content jumping through the fields. He stops at a row of purple carrots and exclaims, “Rad!” He lives in Portland. We let the comment slide.

Our man Tesar the geezer is first chef to the pantry! I don’t know what he got but he leaves with a devilish smile as he pushes his wheelbarrow towards the prep station. HOLD THE JOHN DEERES! Dr. Greg and his wheelbarrow are sprinting past Tesar toward the prep tables. Tesar suddenly looks 63. His glasses appear heavy and dusty. OH NO! However, poor douchey Joe has just arrived at the pantry! He curses as he pick through what is left. Even though he is losing, he walks back with the arrogance of Donald Trump. Putz.

All chefs are at their stations. WAIT! Something is missing. There are no utensils. No pots or pans. No microplanes. No immersion blenders. OH MY GOD. FIRST X FACTOR! To obtain cooking utensils, the chefs have to run through a dust storm. Huh? Yes, they brought in a bunch of industrial blowers and created a whirling cloud of dust. Like bandits with red and white bandanas covering their faces, the chefs disappear into the swirling dirt. We can barely see them as they rip through crates and grab whatever they can before they choke. None of them know what they have till they get back to the prep station. (I was on the edge of my couch for this!) Tesar scores in the dark: TWO saute pans AND a sauce pan. And a shovel? Oh well, he’s got the lamb. We’re so glad Joe has the slowest cooking protein and the worst pan he could have picked—a deep Dutch oven.

Tesar, ever the glutton for punishment, decides to do lamb three ways. (Old farm joke?) He’s cocky and confident at this point. He takes out the leg of lamb and carves tartare, carpaccio, and little medallions to roast. Cue the Now-Irritating Host: TWENTY FIVE MINUTES, CHEFS! NEXT X FACTOR.

First tight camera shot goes to Dr. Greg. I think he is going to cry. He is obviously wishing he’d become a urologist. Joe is stoic. He has perfected the hateful Trump stare. Tesar is ready to play. “YOU MUST PREPARE A DESSERT COURSE,” host dude screams over the violins. “YOU MUST USE MILK FROM A COW. AND YOU MUST MILK THE COW TO GET THE MILK.”

Of course, this involves running to the barn where the cows are waiting. Ever the teat man, Tesar takes a pail and milks away like a pro. Dr. Greg is handling his cow pretty well, too. Perhaps he should have considered gynecology.  Hateful Joe is standing beside his Elsie with  a look that would scare The Donald. “Um, we don’t have cows on the subway,” Joe says. Huh? This allegedly Michelin-star chef takes a stinking subway? Besides that, why would anyone expect to see a real cow on a subway platform in New York. I figure he lost his mind in the dust storm. For a split second my allegiance switches to Joe. I think he needs the 10 grand to pay for a shrink and a few cabs.

Then, as the song goes, the cow kicked it over and winked her eye at the pathetic chef from Trump Towers. “He kicked me,” Joe said. (I screamed from my couch, “It’s a SHE you dumb ass!”) It didn’t matter. Joe claims the cow kicked him. I rewound the tape three times. Ruling: Joe shoved the pail into the cow’s leg. The cow was simply reacting to being approached by an awkward New Yorker. There was no contact. “That’s it,” Joe, the douchey chef, says as he walks off. “I put safety first.”

Then comes my favorite moment of the show. From his little stool beside the cow, Tesar looks up to the camera and says, “Look, he’s crying like a baby.” This was not a Trump moment for Joe. “He’s toast!” we scream.

Sorry, this is getting too long. The rest of the show was pretty painful. We knew Joe was gone. The only tension remained between the good doctor from Portland and Farmer John. Tesar sang with confidence when he presented his dishes. He dazzled the judges with his lamb three ways and his raw milk and chocolate creme anglaise filled with berries. “Not bad for out in the field,” Tesar said with a smirl. (Half smile; half smirk) I forgot what Greg made but it had a lot of fresh vegetables in it and the judges loved it. Mr. Not-So-G.I. Joe tried to justify his existence as a real chef by saying, “I always put safety first in my kitchen.” Judges didn’t buy it. Joe was sent back to his stop on the C Line.

Yes, there is another round. SHOWDOWN! Greg v John! Greg tosses out a taunting challenge: “I can beat that old man.” Ouch. Now, Portland or no Portland, I don’t like him. His wretched twisty hair is starting to drive me nuts. I want to whirl it in my immersion blender. Anywhoo, the two chefs have to prepare “one bite on a silver spoon” using four hidden ingredients. Of course, they have to run after a moving flatbed truck and jump on the back to get to them. As the two chefs sprint behind the truck, I begin to doubt Tesar’s claim that he runs 10 miles a day. Greg jumps on the truck like Spiderman and breaks into the case containing corn, truffles, Kobe beef, and Brussels sprouts. Hold it. A miracle: Tesar’s right by his side!

They run back to the prep station. HOLY CRAP, BATMAN! They arrive to find only a blow torch, a clamp, and a saw to work with. Undaunted, Tesar heads to the pantry and picks up some eggs. My gosh he is so confident. He wipes his sweaty brow and gloats, “I am the egg man. You can cook anywhere if you know what you’re doing.”

The Beatles reference is lost on the bad doctor and struggling chef Greg. He’s too young. Plus he is very busy sawing the fat off the Kobe beef (huh?) which he plans to cook with fruit. Again, we grant him Portland status and wait with anticipation.

The show now makes a wretched attempt to create drama during THE TASTING AND JUDGING section. Obnoxious Host with his now- grating foreign accent, readies for his close-up: “Chefs, this was the longest day of your culinary lives,” he screams. We wait while the camera moves from Greg to John and back again. “And the winner is…” Again with the panning camera. “Chef John!”

As the defeated chef (and doctor) Greg heads down a row of crops into the culinary sunset, Chef John—Extreme Chef John—hits Obnoxious Host with a quick knuckle touch before raising his fists to the skies. “Fifty is the new 30,” Tesar says. “I am the Extreme Chef.”

–DELETE RECORDING–

Revenge is a dish best served cold, so are donuts, apparently.

In the history of time there are a few moments of brilliance that stand out in my mind.  Newton discovers gravity.  Galileo proclaims that the Earth revolves around the Sun.  Einstein develops the theory of relativity.  May I add one more?  James St. Peter decides to put a donut in the freezer.  You always thought the only good donuts were advertised behind a glowing neon “Hot Doughnuts Now” sign.  Well, you were wrong.  Mind, prepare to be blown.

You can’t stop reading now.

Nothing gets me more excited than scouting out the weekly specials conjured up by Mr. St. Peter, AKA the Mad Scientist of Donuts.  James knows no bounds when it comes to concocting this city’s most adventurous pastries.  But in my opinion, perhaps his finest creation yet is the stunningly beautiful “High in the Mountains.”  I drive nearly an hour…at 7 AM…on the weekend… for his donuts, and not once have I ever regretted it.

The “High in the Mountains” takes James’ delicately sweet and slightly sticky glazed donut, sliced in half, filled with creamy strawberry frosting and juicy sliced strawberries, and topped with more strawberry frosting and a drizzle of chocolate.  The entire thing is chilled and served cold.  I don’t really know all the magic that goes on behind closed doors to give this donut its wonderful flavor or textural profile, but the finished product is truly a work of art.  The strawberry and chocolate topping is slightly hardened yet the inside remains soft and smooth.  The donut itself and the strawberries remain incredibly fresh without even a hint of freezer-burn.

Nowadays, everyone is trying to find ways to “beat the heat.” People are really starting to lose their minds out there.  So, before you decide to cook and eat bacon in your car, take a trip back to reality and pick up a piece of real American ingenuity from Hypnotic Donuts.  Keep an eye on their Facebook page to see when this little gem rears its beautiful head again on the menu.  And perhaps, with enough gentle requests to James, we can see it  there a little more often.

The Deep Bowl at Company Cafe. (photography by Kevin Marple.)

Dining out was once so simple. You sat down in a restaurant, ordered whatever sounded good, ate it, and went on with your life. Now you need an advanced degree in epidemiology before you’re qualified to choose an entrée. Every day, we get bombarded with health warnings about food: too much added sugar will kill you if excess salt doesn’t get you first. Menus are loaded with politically charged, often slippery buzzwords: “sustainable,” “organic,” “locally grown,” “free range,” “grass fed,” “genetically modified,” “farm raised.” Go ahead and order red meat, but that cow had best been raised on tall-stem Texas blue grass handpicked by a nun.

Many area producers and restaurateurs have their hearts in the right place, but I can’t help but be suspicious of some who tout ingredients as “organic” or “local.” This is Texas. There is no such thing as a locally grown tomato in January. Organic is even more confusing. If your butterhead lettuce was sprayed with an “organic” pesticide such as a bacterial toxin or pyrethrum or rotenone, can it really be considered organic?

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