So here’s the (cheap) question: Name your favorite shop and flavor. (BTW, I don’t think any froyo should taste like a cake or a raw cookie. Bad food cross-dressing.) Also, why don’t boys like frozen yogurt?

No wonder TG has 856 friends on Facebook.

I’m a little late to the PegasusNews party hosted by Teresa “Gumshoe” Gubbins. She has written an enlightening essay on the proliferation of food photography in public restaurants. It’s a great subject for debate. Apparently some restaurants have a “NO PHOTOS” policy while others are “flattered.” Gubbins is now my heroine—she managed to get thrown out of a frozen yogurt store in Richardson and used the “copyrightable” on the same day. That is just pure awesomeness. How about you? Do you take pictures of your meals in restaurants? Do you believe a plate of brisket tacos is copyrightable? Have you ever been thrown out of a restaurant?

I thought Wednesday’s program [Think with Krys Boyd] at 1:00 p.m. might be of particular interest. Here’s a description: What does your choice of beverage say about you? We’ll explore the arcane world of personal distilling, legal and otherwise with journalist and Guggenheim recipient Max Watman. His new book is Chasing the White Dog: An Amateur Outlaw’s Adventures in Moonshine (Simon & Schuster, 2010).

My choice of beverage says I’m clear, room temperature, and my butt covers about 70 percent of the earth’s surface. Et tu?

I’ve got a hot date for Valentine’s Day!

Do you hate the hype of Valentine’s Day? Or do you like paying triple the regular price for a dozen roses and mediocre chocolate? Yes, I know it’s great for the restaurant business and I encourage all  lovers–young and old– to dine out. Get engaged. Spend hours making love. Make Hallmark happy.

But what about those of us without a date? Why don’t we get a night? Restaurateurs and barkeeps, I see a niche with an burning itch. Call me a hopeless unromantic but I do the same thing every year for VD: Two nights of pure bliss. And you, what do you do?

Pick me!

I am really sick today and I am not thinking clearly. However, I have started this contest and I’m going to finish it. Tuesday, FIVE lucky Dishers will get a chance to make Dallas seafood history by participating in our “I Scuba for Scallops” contest. Contestants will use their palates to see if they can taste the difference between an expensive hand-harvested scallop and a dry-packaged U-10. I’ve just returned from the doctor and the doctor said I need rest so I’m going to lie down for a couple of hours.

While I snooze, you have to find some lyrics to one of my favorite songs. I buried them in this post. The first five of you to reveal the band and the song will be invited to the tasting. If you are going to play, PLEASE make sure your schedule is clear from 1-3:00 p.m. on Tuesday. Go now. It’s Friday and Google is standing by.
Winners announced at 5:00 p.m.

UPDATE: Time and date of this tasting  may change. Developing.

In an article written by Teresa Gubbins, the skinny bitch over at PegNews, demands more details from La Brenner. TG wants to see before and after shots of Brenner’s project and Brenner’s starting and ending weight. Methinks not happening.

However, as she always does, Teresa brings up an interesting topic: Is Mathew McConaughey as good in bed as he is on his surf board. Wait, that wasn’t Teresa. TGub believes that people want to know insider-y details about restaurant critics:  What do we look like? Where do we eat on our own dime penny? Where do we live? Whom do we date? What language does our husband speak? How many cats do we have? You know, very intimate things about our secret lives.

To satiate your curiosity, and to keep you away from Pinkberry, I thought I’d share a “morning after” picture that I accidentally snapped last year. It is not staged. I like to call it “Banana Cream Pie at Midnight.” (Click on it to make it bigger.) If you can tell me where the pie was paid for, I’ll tell you how much I weigh.

Anywhoo, as the sun set, we headed to do some bird watching among the mangrove forests on the coast. (Tiger herons!) One of the guys on the trip, Jerry Garret, a writer for the New York Times, stayed behind and took this photo of us as we left the dock. He’s holding an unofficial caption contest with no prizes. I figured we’d have our own. Winner gets a bag of powdered cocoa (drinking chocolate) from a plantation outside of Leon, Nicaragua. (My entry was: “A pork in the river.”) GO!

Fan fave Kevin. Photo courtesy bravotv.com

Disher Wes Mantooth just sent me a love letter. “The D-Empire blogs are all boring as spit today,” he says. Anyway, he wants to talk about Top Chef, and I know there are several TC fans out there. His thoughts are below.

Top Chef is coming to a close. Who’s not going to make it? We’ve got 5 left: Kevin, Jennifer, Eli, and the Brothers. The easy call is that Jen and Eli both wind up packing their knives, but we’ve seen in the past that it only takes one little slip for an otherwise more-talented chef to get packing before their time was due, resulting in a less-talented poseur to take the crown (i.e. Josea). So, here’s my handicapping on who makes it to the Final Table:

Kevin: 1:1.
The dude has given the Heisman to every challenge thrown at him. Guy has a pig tattoo but also swears off meat for the entirety of Lent? To paraphrase Winston Churchill, he’s a riddle wrapped in a mystery wrapped in pork sausage, then deep fried.

Bryan: 2:1
Even when he missteps, he doesn’t miss by much. He has confidence and maturity, something his brother desperately needs to borrow.

Michael: 3.5:1
Something about him just screams high-wire act. He’s got the plays-well-with-others skills of Marcel but the culinary talents of a Blaise. I’d love to see Eli do something intentional to light Michael’s anger on fire and then he’d go down in a blaze of self-destructive glory. Because, you know, it can’t be a reality TV show without paying homage to Bon Jovi. Still, I’d rather have him as a third in the finale than that worthless Lisa a couple years back. Oi.

Eli: 8:1
Eli used up all his goodwill last week when Robyn got sent home on her history of serving crap food and being out of tricks versus Eli’s history of mostly-good food despite serving up a hairball in last week’s elimination challenge. You know that the decision at Judges’ Table went like this: Eli’s “drink” was crap, but he won the quickfire and has been very good several times. Robyn just keeps skating by because someone else is worse than her; she has no upside. Eli had better pull something out of his hat or he’s gonna be done soon.

Jennifer: 20:1
She’s worked for Ripert for the better part of a decade, so we know that she has the chops, but Top Chef is a marathon, not a sprint, and Jen looked like she’d pretty much hit the wall at the Excalibur’s Medieval Times presentation. I think that the day-in, day-out pressure of performing a new and different trick every day has just worn her out. I hate to say this because she’s probably my favorite chef on the show (not to mention the only one I want to see in the pool at the house), but Jen’s performance the last couple of shows reminds me of Ali in Zaire, only without the rope-a-dope.

Mantooth, out.

Here are the contestants and their suggestions. Winner will receive a box of chocolate I bought from a chocolate plantation outside of the lovely city of  Leon, Nicaragua.

Worzel Gummidge:  Knights of The Iguana?
Brad:  The Icedinistas? (you see, it’s like Sandinistas, but the opposite because hockey is played on ice).
Shane: Chinandega Chupacabras, Managua Margays, Masaya Macaws (PICK ONE)
Amy S: The Stars?
Kirk: Club de Hockey de Managua, also known as Las Paletas.
Evan Grant: The Contras, El Presidentes, Whatever Vicente Padilla wants them to be called. (Nice try, he’s a traitor and therefore disqualified.)
restaurant jobs rhode island: Blazing Iguana Nicaragua. It symbolizes their food and culture combining at the same time.

I am eager to find street stands selling Nicaraguan “weekend food” such as nacatamales: shredded pork, potatoes, garlic, peppers, and fresh tomato covered with masa and cooked in a banana leaf. I plan to do my Bourdain-best and hit every vendor in sight. I’ve consulted with Andrew Zimmern who recommends the roasted wild iguana and bull testicle ceviche, but if you’ve been to Nicaragua I’d love to hear your thoughts. (Extra points:  what is the perfect name for a hockey team in Nicaragua? Prize from Nicaragua to the winner. I’m looking at you , Kirk.)

I’ve gotta go with Faries on this. That stuff is nasty. It tastes like wax-coated “sugar.” But if Dave Faries would ever talk to me, I’d like to ask him why he insists on doing these silly wine and “food” pairings. Why would you pair a wine with candy corn or Frito’s or other random junk food? I’m just curious.

However, Mr. Faries inspired me to explore the Internet and search for my identity. Here are the results.

According to this website, I am a Snickers Bar.

“You’re a nut. Like a Snickers bar. You like to be around people and you are friendly. You are a constant smile. Some people consider you overly energetic but if you stopped being so cheery, everyone would miss the real you.”

According to this website, I am a Sauvignon Blanc.

Engaging and energetic, you have a lot to offer the world – most of it they’ve never seen anywhere else! You are the type of person who carves your own path in life… and you invite everyone else to come along. The only thing predictable about you is that you could have anything up your sleeve. You’re all about sampling all of life’s experiences. Both the savory and unsavory ones.
Deep down you are: Laid back and young at heart
Your partying style: Anything goes… seriously!
Your company is enjoyed best with: Smoked meats or spicy food.

So, there you have me. What about you? La Brenner and Mr. Faries, I think it only fair you weigh in here. And Teegster, spit that candy corn out of your mouth and play. Anything goes!

This is a picture of:
a)    A new building in the Arts District
b)    A modern sculpture
c)    A new $64 chocolate truffle from Noka
d)    Something caramelized
e)    All of the above
f)    None of the above
g)    Whatever I want it to be

Go for it. I’ll post another clue a little later in the day.

UPDATE: 3:09 p.m. Clue number 2.

UPDATE: DGirl takes the prize. Oh, we didn’t offer one! Whoopsie. Here’s Andrew:

It is indeed a cheese. Gjetost from Norway, also known as Brunost, is a semi-hard cheese made from cow and goat’s milk to which caramelization during boiling of the milk contributes an unforgettable brown color. The caramel is also evident in the taste which is nutty and creamy. It is usually cut with a cheese slicer in order to create thin strips as the taste is quite intense and the finish long-lived. I bought it for $15.90/lb at The Wooden Spoon in Plano. A store for all things Scandinavian except, on my last visit, the famous fetid shark. I settled for herring.

What kind of restaurant would Major Tony Nelson and Jeannie do in Dallas?

I was having a conversation with a “highly educated” person the other night and he said, “Dallas really needs a great burger place.” I was stunned. When I asked him what places he liked, he reeled off spots—Chips, Goff’s, Neighborhood Services—that were in his neighborhood. I asked him if he ever went out of his way to discover or try new places and he admitted that he didn’t really. He has now been downgraded to “somewhat intelligent.”  I mean talk about closed minded. (They don’t even melt the cheese at Goff’s.)

The inside-the-loop-outside-the-loop foodie argument drives me nuts. There is great food all over this area if you are willing to drive. But if you had one restaurant wish, what would you like to see in Dallas? I know what I want, it’s a fleet of these, STAT. Your turn.

I was working at La Cave Wine Bar on Henderson and a man called ahead to reserve a table in the back of the room near the cellar. He said he was going to have a flower arrangement sent to the restaurant and he would like it placed on a table along with a champagne bucket filled with ice and a chilled bottle of Dom Perignon. He pre-selected a cheese and pate plate. “I don’t want my wife to have to think,” he said. “No problem sir,” I said. (Whoops.)

That evening the couple showed up on time. They were dressed to the nines. I can still see her silver sequined dress. She’d had her hair done by Mr. Larry across the street. She moved through the room and perfumed the air with the strong scent of Opium. The dapper gentleman pulled out her chair. They sat side-by-side. They held hands across the table. I moved in to open the Champagne. It was then that I noticed the 4X6 note cards on his lap. Pop! went the cork. She sliced a bite of aged Mimolette.

Jump with me.

They toasted each other and I left. When I returned to refill their glasses, the not-so-gentle man looked down at the first card. Right there in front of me, he started to read. I’m paraphrasing here: “Darling, we have had a wonderful 15 years together and this is hard for me to say so I am going to read to you.” The woman grabbed my arm. I was horrified. I was forced to stay at the table while he recited all of the reasons why he wanted a divorce.

Yes, there was another woman. Yes, the other woman was pregnant. And yes, he had already asked the other woman to marry him.

Wifey pooh number one, understandably, started to scream. She threw the cheese plate at him. Smartly, I might add, I pulled the Dom out of the bucket and put it on a side table. The guy stood up and walked out of the restaurant. I had another server take my tables and I dragged the poor woman into the bathroom where she cried for about an hour. By this time, the whole restaurant (like 40 people) was into the drama. Male and female customers came in to check on her. Some even shared divorce stories. Finally, we poured her into a cab. When the door to the restaurant closed behind me, everyone clapped. Of course, it was at that moment I realized that the bill hadn’t been paid. Guess whose paycheck was deducted for the unpaid tab? Yes, mine.

But at least I got a half a bottle Dom and a bitchin’ flower arrangement out of the deal.

Okay, your turn.

You guys aren’t even CLOSE.

Okay, Dishers. Some of you are getting closer to naming the restaurant where this chicken fried steak is served. Currently, the initial post has 56 comments. Remember, the 67th commenter on any post wins a place at the table for a group dinner at The Grape. SO, do you want me to reveal this restaurant now or would you like to try a few more times. (PLEASE don’t run up the score, I can see you from the back end)

I’ll give you another clue: the Great Scott did not have it on his list. We are starting here at 56. Next comment is 57 and so forth. GO.

Mary Brown Malouf at my high school graduation.

I’ve been at my post here at D Magazine for 13 years. Sometime I wonder how many calories I have eaten; other times I wonder how many of those calories were actually worth ingesting. Restaurant reviewers eat more low-to-medium quality food than spectacular meals.

Anywhoo, in the post below, I mentioned Michael Hiller. He used to be a critic at the DMN. Over the years, I’ve seen lots of “critics” come and go. Anyone remember Betty Cook? Suzanne Hough (R.I.P)? Dave Faries? (Oh, he’s still here.) Or Mary Brown Malouf?

Mary was a real biyatch when she wrote dining reviews for the Dallas Observer. When she came to work at D in the late 90s, we became good friends. But Mary ditched D and Dallas and she’s now the Food and Travel editor at Salt Lake City Magazine. I just looked on their site and found a classic Mary Brown Malouf rant.  Gosh, I’m all nostalgic. Call me, Bill.

How about you? Who do you miss? Who do you love? Who do you hate?

Please don’t sue me for using your cover art.

I’m stuck at home in my little glass house. I see a few pebbles on the floor and I think I will toss them.

I just scanned through the Dallas Observer’s 2009 Best of Dallas® Food list. It reminds me of that Who song. What is it, Kirk? Something about the new boss and the old boss? YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! Bomp, bomp, bomp. YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

Dave Fairies, I have a quick question: Does the Observer repeat “Bests” if, when the next year rolls around, no one else  fills the category as “Better®?” (That’s mine, dude.)  This is a serious question and I ask it because I have to deal with the beast of ‘Bests” and understand the difficulty at uncovering them. So, Mr. Fairies, do you roll over “Bests” from year to year by moving them into different categories or because they are the “Best” of their original category? Let’s go through the list together and see. Jump with me. It’s not far.

Cindi’s New York Deli: 2008 Best Breakfast; 2009 Best Chicken and Dumplings

Fogo de Chao: 2008 Best Churrascaria; 2009 Best Meaty Experience

Yumi to Go: 2008 Best Home Delivery; 2009 Best Bird’s Eye View (seriously?)

Jimmy’s Food Store: 2008 Best Spicy Sausage Sandwich; 2009 Best Italian Grocery (me=guilty)

Royal Thai: 2008 Best Thai Restaurant; 2009 Best Thai Restaurant (Ding! Could answer my question)

Best Seafood: 2008 Fish City Grill; 2009 Dallas Seafood Market (seriously?)

Alligator Café: 2008 Best Cajun Restaurant; 2009 Best Cajun Restaurant (Ding! Ding! Could answer my question.)

Afghan Grill: 2008 Best Middle Eastern Restaurant; 2009 Best Middle Eastern Restaurant (Ding! Ding! Ding! That’s three which officially makes anything a Trend. One more match makes it Truth.)

Garden Café: 2008  Best Local Food Movement Restaurant; 2009 Best Homegrown Experience

Roti Grill: 2008 Best Fast-Casual Indian Restaurant; 2009 Best Indian Food (Yow. Zah.)

Mai’s Vietnamese Restaurant: 2008 Best Vietnamese Restaurant; 2009 Best Vietnamese Restaurant  DING, DING, DING! Ding! TRUTH!

Fair enough, Fairies!  I commend your consistency. I will now pick up my guitar and play.

(But Sprinkles? Really? That is sooo D Magazine.)

Could you possibly recommend a restaurant in Irving, possibly Italian, for an important business lunch?

Y’all, hit it.

See Evan Grant? In the photo, he is literally pigging out on Italian pork products in a small restaurant in San Gusme, Italy. Tonight, Mr. Grant will also be pigging out on Italian pork products and more at Nonna. Those pork products, along with the pici pasta and stuffed squash blossoms pictured below, inspired execuchef Julian Barsotti’s menu for tonight’s SideDish SupperClub at Nonna. A few people canceled this morning. If you’re in the mood for a first class Tuscan supper, join us. 214-521-1800.

Stuffed squash blossoms made by me and Karen. (She'll be there too!)

Pici pasta will be served! Great Scott!

Well established 18+ years, diner for sale in Dallas, located in a popular shopping district. Open 6 days a week Monday thru Friday 6am to 8pm Saturday 6am to 3pm Sunday closed. We serve breakfast, lunch & dinner that has been written up in such periodicals as: “D magazine, Dallas Morning News, Chanel 5 news, The Observer, and many other smaller publications” for being a great place to come and get some down home cooking food. We seat 160, and many times are at capacity with a line out the door. Staff is kind and courteous, and many have been here since the opening of the store 18 years ago creating many regular customers. Owner is wanting to move closer to his family who live too far away for a commute.

Oh time consuming guessing games. Love them. Let’s see, opened in September of 1991…I’d say the “kind staff” alone is worth $800,000.

Eric Stoltz in Some Kind of Wonderful: just one of my '80s crushes.

Yesterday, over on ShopTalk (our sister blog about shopping, fashion, beauty, and other fun stuff), Rhonda Reinhart asked people to submit photos of themselves from the 1980’s. There might even be a prize for the best (worst?) photo. The example she used is of Eric Celeste, and it is pretty amazing. Okay, okay, what does this have to do with food? Jay Jerrier of Il Cane Rosso submitted his photo this morning. It.Is.Awesome. And there’s even some Ratt involved. Is it better than Eric’s? Discuss. And please, submit your own, if you dare.