Huge Fine for Holding a Sign? Coppell Official’s Harassment Causes Layoffs.

i Fratelli Pizza feels “chilling effect” through unprovoked vendetta

COPPELL, TX   Did a Coppell City official lean on a code enforcement officer to fine the manager of a locally owned i Fratelli Pizza $2,000.00 because there was a lone employee holding a sign in front of the store?

“Yes” says a disbelieving Mike Cole, owner, fifteen year Coppell resident and CEO of i Fratelli Pizza, a local family-owned business that has eleven locations in the Metroplex. “I have the citation here to prove it. I guess we have to spend time and money going to a criminal trial. It really is a shame…not just the hard costs, but the fact that a worthy young man had to be lain off due to a city official’s indiscretion. “

After numerous harassing phone calls and unannounced visits from the Deputy Chief Tim Oates, Officer Oates evidently summoned a code enforcement officer to levy the huge fine in order to, in Officer Oates’ words, “change the manager’s attitude”. The criminal trial is set for November 9, 2009.

George Cole, Mike Cole’s brother, an owner, and former Coppell resident declared “during twenty two years in business, eleven locations in eight cities, we have never been treated like this. While serving the citizens in Coppell for seventeen years, we have only had the utmost respect for the workings of the city. Something has changed, something seems out of line…it feels personal.”

Especially because the Cole Brothers contend that they cannot find anything on the City Website that declares “holding a sign” to be a crime.

Darrell Cole, another brother and owner, but a current Coppell resident is outraged. “This gentleman at the city works for taxpayer money (my taxes) but spends his time attacking a business that raises the taxes that employs him and employs many other citizens. Is it smart to pick on someone who supports the city causes, celebrations, charitable programs, and numerous school and church organizations? He says we are the criminals?”

David Cole of Irving, a brother and owner, questions “why would any city official of Coppell “slap down” a family-owned business that has fought through a severe economic downturn without laying anyone off (until now) by levying a huge fine for holding a sign. Did he get his training at the Kremlin?”

Let me give you an example what happens here at D headquarters on a regular basis. Let’s say a box of cupcakes, a package of chocolate, or bag of food samples arrives with a note from the store owner or publicist. Everyone in the office goes bonkers and whatever is delivered disappears in about 2 seconds. If we don’t post anything on SideDish, I generally receive a “follow-up” note like this:

Hi Nancy, I just wanted to follow up on the “Insert Name” “Insert Item” that we sent last week from “Insert Company” and get your thoughts/feedback on the new flavors. We think it would make an interesting post on SideDish or an article for your magazine. We’d love to hear what you thought of them and see if they might be a fit for an upcoming story or mention. “Insert Company” will be expanding and owner “Insert Name” is hoping to open more locations soon.  We appreciate any comments you have!

If someone on the SideDish staff decides to write about the product, they now have to mention the fact that the food was not paid for by D Magazine. If we don’t, we violate the Federal Trade Commission Act and could receive a fine.

At the risk of calling in the food police, I will say that we have always run a tight ship around here. We’ve always paid for food we review and I do not attend media dinners or accept complimentary dinners. We have sent a copy of the FTC guidelines to our attorney to make sure we comply with all of the rules.

But here is one rub—I’ve already heard that some bloggers and indie food writers are finding ways to get around the rules by posting one small disclaimer somewhere on their webpage and not in the copy of the item. So readers beware. Ask questions. It’s a jungle out there.

I hate to say that I’m smart, but I receive a lot of e-mails from people trying to cyber-bash a restaurant. Usually I can tell if the note comes from someone on the inside or a disgruntled employee—they tend to know too much and the note is usually a personal attack and not a general complaint about an experience.

So, I ask you. I view this space as an open forum for discussion. Do I post anonymous complaints? Do I e-mail them back and say “I will post your complaint if you give me your real name?” Or do I hit delete? It’s your space. Define it.

Sometimes you feel like a duck. Sometimes you don’t.

I find it interesting that two high-profile dining critics are changing their tune about the importance of remaining anonymous. Maybe it’s because they are no longer high-profile dining critics. Former New York Times dining critics Ruth Reichl and Frank Bruni have been giving interviews with quotes such as these:

“Dining companions are not good covert operations agents,” Bruni says. It’s one of the many reasons Bruni no longer feels restaurant critics can remain anonymous.

Is Bruni paving the way for his successor Sam Sifton? Before Sifton took over as the Times critic, he was the cultural news editor and deputy dining editor. His head shot was plastered all over the paper and the web. Sifton was forced into wearing disguises before he wrote his first lead review.

I believe anonymity is important—I have a closet full of clothes, glasses, and wigs to prove it. As a magazine editor, I have interviewed a lot of chefs in Dallas. I have even traveled with a few to do feature stories. As a dining critic, I have managed to slip past them in their restaurants and review them. (Hi Avner! Hi Dean!) That said, even when I am recognized (Hi, Kent!), which is not very often, it doesn’t always guarantee the restaurant will provide a perfect dining experience. Just because there is a dining critic in a restaurant doesn’t make the chef a better chef or the menu a better menu. Service might step up a notch, but it has been my experience that servers overcompensate and make more mistakes when they know they are serving a critic.

Most restaurant critics don’t get busted by personal appearance, they are outed by their behavior. Asking too many questions upfront and ordering too much food are dead giveaways to perceptive servers. A critic also has to be careful what they say at the table. You never know who is sitting next to you or what they will say to the manager, chef, or owner.

Servers, what do you think? Chefs? Fire away. Dishers, take your best shot.

(BTW, love this.)

Dining critics at work.

Yesterday l linked to a post by chef Brian Luscher on former DMN dining critic Mike Hiller’s website Escapehatchdallas.com. While most of the people who left comments agreed with Luscher, I received several e-mails from “professionals” who were a bit concerned about the line “Taking scalps just because you have a hatchet isn’t the same as writing a fair review.” I wrote to both Hiller and Luscher and asked them to clarify and Hiller responded in the comments section. He writes:

“It seems to me Luscher was directing his comments primarily at those bloggers and casual Web commenters who don’t feel any obligation to present fair, comprehensive reviews.” And on his site he writes“…the scalp/hatchet comment, well, that was added for spice in the final edit and has since been removed.”

Couple of questions. If Luscher was directing his comments primarily at bloggers, why does the opening sentence contain “professional restaurant critics and amateur online reviewers”? Also, Hiller admits to adding what I feel is a pretty provocative line (scalp/hatchet) to post with Luscher’s byline. Methinks he put the restaurant owner in a hot seat.  And putting words he didn’t say in his mouth. Foul or fair? Hit it.

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?

The City of Dallas Health Department has decided that the Celebration Farmers Market is in violation of certain codes. Celebration was told on 2 previous occasions that we could operate a Farmers Market in our parking lot under our existing permits. We strongly believe that all food handling practices and food products at the Farmers Market were perfectly safe. We have complied strictly with all Health Department codes for 38 years and take our responsibility to public health VERY SERIOUSLY.

We appreciate the warm welcome and support that you’ve provided our Saturday Farmers Market. We believe that what we along with our wonderful vendors are offering is a safe, fun and convenient setting for you to purchase healthy, delicious, local produce and other products.

We are going to approach the Dallas City Council to explore how the code can be modified to allow the Celebration Farmers Markets and others like us to provide a valuable service to the citizens of Dallas while protecting the public health.

I have contacted Ed and asked him for instructions on how you can sign the petition he plans to take to the Dallas City Council. Stay tuned. (OMG, I can hear Amy Severson already.)

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.)

“Talking to myself and feeling old/Sometimes I’d like to quit/Nothing ever seems to fit/Hangin’ around, nothing to do but frown/Rainy days and Mondays always get me down”—The Carpenters

I am feeling so Karen Carpenter today. Not skinny, just beat down. It all started on Saturday when I ended up in lengthy conversation with a veteran Dallas restaurateur on the “rules” surrounding a restaurant review. He/She shall remain nameless.

Anywhoo, He/She had a (loud) question for me: “Hey, since when did it become okay for a restaurant critic to review a restaurant during the first week of operation?” I had no idea what He/She was talking about so I asked, “What do you mean.” He/She raged on incredulously: “Well Leslie Brenner went to Park the first week it opened and based a lot of her review on what happened during the first week.”

“Whoa, hold on,” I said. “I have not read Brenner’s review because I have not written mine. Until I do, I’m not comfortable talking about it.”

“Well, then let’s make this a hypothetical case,” He/She said. “When do you consider it fair to go into a new restaurant and judge it?” My first reaction was to say as long as a restaurant charges a full price, they are fair game. However, I knew that I was dealing with a seasoned restaurateur who was ready to shoot down that standard line so I said boldly, “Whenever the restaurant charges a customer a full price, they are fair game.” (Jump here.)Oh boy/girl, he went ballistic. “What about soft openings!” “It takes months for a restaurant to get systems down!” “Hell, Park hasn’t even finished the landscaping and part of the back part of the restaurant.”

To that, I say: “Charge soft opening prices!” “Practice your systems before you overhype your opening!” “Finish the freakin’ landscaping.” Dude/Dudette, sometimes a new restaurant only has one chance to win over a customer. And that first happy customer is the best advertising that restaurant can get.

I’ve worked in restaurants and I know nothing is perfect when you start out, but there are things you can do to control the opening chaos.  Even if you don’t want to make it a long-term policy, take reservations for the first few months so that the kitchen and staff can learn to work together. Keep your initial menu small and roll it out slowly. Have a sound business plan with enough money in reserve to see you through a good portion of the first year.

I am a firm believer in the concept that, over the long haul, a restaurant critic can not make or break a restaurant with a good business plan. However, I feel it is important for a critic to inform a reader when and how many times the new restaurant was visited. (My guess is Brenner did or we wouldn’t be having this “conversation.”) My strategy is to stagger nights and days of the week, times, and sitting areas of the restaurant over the course of two months. When I start the reviewing process is random. In some cases I avoid going early because the opening has been overhyped (Park, Fearing’s, Rathbun’s Blue Plate). If a restaurant is smaller or not as high profile (Coast Global Seafood, or the reopening of Royal China), I may go a little earlier.

Like my He/She colleague, I sometimes get perplexed by the timing of restaurant reviews. Especially magazines and the time lines used by some publications—a concept I am all too familiar with. We work 6 to 8 weeks out depending on the issue and the time of the year (printer’s schedule).

Theoretically, Brenner has the curse/luxury of writing on Monday and having her opinion on your dewy front lawn the next morning. Even though she and I might have eaten at the same restaurant on the same days, her review has more of an immediate impact. Mine hits four weeks later giving the allusion that I’ve waited weeks or months to visit the restaurant.

However there are a couple of times a magazine has caused me to scratch my head in wonder.  Esquire magazine’s John Mariani’s picked Fearing’s as The Best New Restaurant OF THE YEAR in the October 2006 issue. Fearing’s opened to the public on August 15, 2006. My “drop-dead deadline” to make an October issue is August 15th.  The September issue of Modern Luxury Dallas has review of Park which opened on July 15th.  My “drop-dead deadline” to make a September issue is July 15th. I guess nobody picks up the phone and cries FOUL when the reviews are positive.

Best restaurant in America? How can anybody know that in one visit? Rainy days and Mondays always get me mad.

Dr. McWilliams will be joined by spokespersons from other environmental fields and the panel will discuss such topics as “What does it truly mean to eat responsibly?” There will be an opening reception at 6:00 p.m. and Dr. McWilliams will be signing copies of his book. It’s a bargain: Institute & Forum Members: $20, Nonmembers: $25, Member Teachers: $7. 214 871-2440. See you there.

Perhaps we should have our own little voter’s poll below. Let’s Ranch It Up for these tasty tidbits. Or submit one of your own. Go crazy. Be creative–let’s try for 67 comments. K? Go.
Real Contestants:

Green Goblins – Cherry peppers are hollowed out, stuffed with spicy shredded chicken and guacamole, then battered and deep fried. Served three to a skewer and topped with queso.
Deep Fried Butter – 100% pure butter is whipped till light and fluffy, then specially sweetened with a choice of several flavors. The tantalizing mixture is surrounded by a special dough and quick fried. Served on a stick.
Twisted Yam on a Stick – A delicious, towering, spiral-cut sweet potato on a 13” skewer is fried to a delicate crispy texture, then gently rolled in butter and dusted with cinnamon and sugar.
Fernie’s Deep Fried Peaches & Cream – Sweet juicy peaches are coated in a delicious batter of cinnamon, ginger, coconut, graham cracker crumbs, eggs & milk, then deep fried to a crunchy golden brown on the outside, while luscious and sweet on the inside. Served on a plate drizzled with raspberry sauce and sprinkled with streusel topping & a dollop of whipped cream. A side of vanilla butter cream icing is provided for dipping.
Texas Fried Pecan Pie – A mini-pecan pie is battered and deep fried to a golden brown. Served drizzled with rich caramel sauce, then topped with whipping cream and chopped candied pecans.
Country Fried Pork Chips – Thin sliced pork loin is seasoned, surrounded by a tasty corn meal batter and deep fried. Served with sides of ketchup or cream gravy.
Sweet Jalapeno Corn Dog Shrimp – Shrimp on a stick is coated with a sweet and spicy corn meal batter, then deep fried to a golden brown and served with a spicy glaze.
Fried Peanut Butter Cup Macaroon – A peanut butter cup is wrapped inside a coconut macaroon fried and dusted with powdered sugar. Also available with a scoop of Blue Bell ice cream.

Eat before you “Think” or “Think” before you eat? Today that’s a tough question:  James McWilliams, author of the new book  Just Food: Where Locovores Get it Wrong and How We Can Truly Eat Responsibly, is Krys Boyd’s guest at 12:00 noon on Think. (KERA 90.1) McWilliams, a fellow in the Agrarian Studies Program at Yale University, is currently an associate professor at Texas State and he has some thought provoking ideas on food systems. If you would like a little background info before the show, check out Crunchy Con, Rod Dreher’s interview that ran in April. (Rod, how is the chicken business?)

My apologies to Krys. However, you can download the interview here.

Mike Orren needs your help. Keep your comments on SideDish.

I thought I was desperate for attention! Mike Orren, the wizard behind the Oz over at Pegasus News, has found another outlet for his ADHD—it’s called Outbursts. The feature is designed especially for your prefrontal cortex and encourages “verified users” to “post news and links on any local topic you like. All you have to do is click the “Post an Outburst” link on the Outbursts page.”  According to this “complete guide to ADHD site” symptoms of the disorder include “blurting out inappropriate comments, show their emotions without restraint, and act without regard for consequences.” Check out Outbursts and leave your scathing comments here. Remember, we have prizes and they don’t!

However, like in all games, somebody broke the rules. Chef Brian Luscher of The Grape posted 11 times straight to hit 67 and then expected to win. Obviously fame has gone to his (beat, beat) head. I scolded him in the thread. He feels so bad he offers this as an apology:

Tio Nancy,
You wrote: “Luscher, out of the game. To the showers. Disqualified. Call Pat Sharpe and have her take you to Wingfield’s. Best Burger? Make onion rings like these and we’ll talk.”

Ouch. Please forgive my double espresso fueled bout of mid- Restaurant Week buffoon-ery.  I hope I didn’t ruin your tea party.  Here is what I propose to remain in the good graces of you and your constituency of SideDish Nationales;

1. I will make you those exact onion rings. [it's a secret how I will pull it off]
2. I am inviting you and your “Be the 67th Commenter” winners in for burgers and said onion rings.
3. I will provide 10 gift certificates for burgers at The Grape for the next ten commenters.

Yow. Zah. HERE ARE THE RULES. Over the next few weeks, I’ll post a question designed to attract a zillion comments. Each time a person becomes the 67th commenter, they will be eligible for special dinner at The Grape. [So far, we have three “Uncle Nancy’s 67th Commenter” winners:  Sexy Jeff (Worst Meal), Brad (Onion rings), and George (Best Meal).]

To get warmed up, get goin’ on Luscher’s deal. The first ten commenters today get gift certificates to The Grape.

When life gives JW Foster lemons, he (center) makes Caesar Salad.(Thanks to Lee Fuqua for the photo.)

JW Foster of the Pyramid Restaurant and Bar at the Fairmont Hotel won the title of Best Caesar in Dallas at the 18th annual Caesar Salad Competition presented by those wacky and wonderful folks at the AIWF. Why did JW win? “Because he made the best salad,” said attendee Lee Fuqua. “We didn’t eat any of the side dishes we just ate the salads and judged the salads.”

You see a few years ago, chefs that entered the competition began to add charming side dishes such as foie gras and lobster to their salad. Once the voting public had downed a glass or two of wine they were so happy to bite into a mass of protein, they would vote for the sexy protein and not the salad. A huge rift developed in the voting masses that flock to this annual event.

But it sounds like JW Foster wooed lettuce lovers back to a semi-straightforward Caesar with his version that, according to the Teegster, “consisted of Romaine hearts dressed with anchovies, Dijon mustard, garlic, egg yolks, Texas extra virgin olive oil, Worcestershire and Tabasco sauces, vinegar, lemon juice and lemon zest, Texas “parmesan” and Romano cheeses with rosemary brioche croutons.”

Daniel Nemec of Kirby’s Steak House took second place and Eric Dreyer of Fearing’s at the Ritz Carlton came in third. For the next year, FW Foster will reign over a peaceful Caesar Salad-lovin’ community.

Diamonds in the rough.

Eat these now.

I love onion rings. I love them big and tall. I love them greasy and small. Recently I ordered onion rings at a restaurant in Dallas and I was shocked—these are the best rings I’ve had in Dallas in a long time. Since Restaurant Week basically kills the food news biz, let’s play another game today: Can you guess where these onion rings were cooked? Go. Somebody will win something.

WINNER WINNER CHICKEN DINNER:

GJ @ August 27th, 2009 at 3:30 pm _

Steak au poivre with fried parsley at Ewald’s.
Chris Ward’s halibut at The Mercury.
Chiles rellenos at original Matt’s.
Wingfield’s burger. (Pat Sharpe, you blew it.)
Every meal I ate when Avner Samuel was the chef at The Mansion.
Pork buns at Yao Fuzi in Plano.
Cinnamon rolls at Southern Kitchen.
Youngblood’s fried chicken.
Kona crusted steak at Capital Grille.
Chicken fried steak and any pie at Ranchman’s in Ponder.

(Sign and T-shirts by Ellen Gribbs of Austin.)

•  Bill Addison @ July 11th, 2008 at 4:54 pm _

Darn you, N2. This is a question I’ve been meaning to post on our blog. Love this subject. Just for today, here’s my answer:
– Maryland jumbo lump crab salad with blood orange and avocado
– A thali of South Indian curries, mostly vegetables and seafood, like served here.
– A modest plate of Ed Mitchell’s barbecue. A plate of barbecue from City Market in Luling would substitute nicely.
– A small dish of blood orange sorbet
–    A big bowl of peach crisp (with vanilla-bean brown butter poured over the fruit) with vanilla-bourbon ice cream melting atop. Then, curtains.

Sadly, not long after I listed my extensive and expensive requests, my relationship with Bill went, well, curtains. In honor of Bill, who I miss dearly, let us relive the idea of ordering your last meal on earth. What would be on your list? Who would be with you? How do I make my voice do this? (Obviously, I am on deadline and need a distraction.)

The web site www.DrinkLocalWine.org exhorts consumers to drink local wine. This weekend the organization held its first annual conference and it happened to be here in Dallas with an emphasis on Texas wine.

However, it can be hard to recognize local wine. If you are at the liquor store and pick up a bottle of wine with the name of a Texas winery on the label the connection with Texas may be almost non-existent. It may actually come from grapes that were not grown in Texas. It may be fermented outside Texas. It may be aged outside Texas. In fact it may even have been labeled outside Texas. In other words, a completely finished wine is imported into Texas and the label says the name of a Texas winery. But none of the viticulture or viniculture had anything to do with Texas. How is the consumer to know where the grapes came from and where the wine was made?

Maybe the small print on the back label saying ‘Vinted and Bottled by…” is an assurance that the wine was at least made locally even if the fruit came from elsewhere. Not so fast. The weasel phrase “Vinted and Bottled by…” means that only 10% of the wine in the bottle need come from the winery. The rest can be blended in from anywhere.

What about “Made and Bottled by…”.  Isn’t that the phrase that assures local production? No. It means the same as “Vinted and Bottled by…”.

How About “Produced and Bottled by…”? That is closer to what we want but only 75% of the wine must be made by the winery and none of the grapes need come from the winery.

Surely if the label on the front of the bottle says “Texas Wine” that at least assures us that the underlying fruit comes Texas. Again, things are not what they seem. Up to 25% of the grapes on a wine labeled “Texas” can come from outside Texas. That kind of alien percentage is more than enough to totally dominate the character of a wine. Other wine growing areas are much stricter: an American Viticultural Area (AVA) specifies a minimum of 85% and Oregon 95% (since 2007).

One phrase which will guarantee that the winery grew all the grapes in the specified location and made the wine on its property is “Estate Bottled”, sometimes written as “grown, produced and bottled by…”.

What if the label does not name the origin of the grapes but does say “For sale in Texas only..”. Doesn’t that mean it is a Texas grown and made wine? Absolutely not. This is the cruelest misdirection of all. Under Federal Law a wine sold across state lines must list the viticultural area of origin. However, if a wine is sold only in one state the law grants a waiver of this labeling requirement. In the case of Texas, as long as the phrase “For sale in Texas only” appears on the label, the grapes can be from anywhere. While this exemption was created to provide regulatory relief to small wineries it is almost invariably used to allow the use of out-of-state juice by an in state winemaker. As such it confuses the consumer and should be modified to still require reporting of the origins of the grapes.

With such an unnecessarily complicated and contradictory set of laws regarding grape origin and wine making labeling it is no wonder even the experts get confused. At this weekend’s conference one of the panelists praised a Texas wine that won a medal when, in point of fact, most of the fruit in that wine originated in California.

This truth-in-labeling issue is acute for the Texas wine industry. If consumers feel that Texas wineries are just labelers of other state’s wine, they will eschew Texas wine for “the real thing”. This will penalize the many Texas wineries who use exclusively Texas grapes and label them clearly. At the present time the trend is for more and more out-of-state fruit to be used. The industry needs to act soon to place the origin of the grapes on the front label of all wines produced in Texas so that consumers have confidence in the provenance of the product. It should also consider following the example of wineries such as Inwood Estate Winery which has created a completely separate label for its out-of-state wines.

Ferrets are sexually dimorphic predators.

I realize a lot of you love to dine out during KRLD Restaurant Week/Month. You get a three-course meal at these restaurants for $35 and some “proceeds” go to the North Texas Food Bank. Win-win, right?

Over the years, I’ve talked to a many restaurant owners, chefs, and servers who aren’t crazy about the promotion. Perhaps given the current state of business they’ve changed their tune. I’d like to know.

Anywhooo, last year, the finest ferret at PegNews, Teresa “Vicky Christina” Gubbins, wrote the piece I wish I’d written about Restaurant Week. Here is the hot link to her story which officially makes this “Link To Teresa Gubbins Week.”  (Group hug.)

At the risk of going all Eatsblog on you, I would like to know: Why do you like restaurant week? Why do you hate restaurant week?  I will tell you this: it is the worst month of the year to be a dining critic. Okay, let’s rumble like we’re on Las Ramblas.

SideDish, an equal opportunity hot link provider.

When I was in Boston I noticed so many restaurants with the Zagat sticker in the window and I wondered how many people actually use the Zagat Guide. Obviously we don’t have many here. Guess Zagat doesn’t like steak or barbecue.

UPDATE: Tip of the toque to Zac Crain. He found a link to the story (scroll down.)

Would you mess with this dude?

Well, our shy little intern Bonathon has caused quite a ripple in the intern world. First, he single-handedly shut down one of Dallas’ favorite soul food restaurants, Vern’s. Now he’s got a inbox full of groupies. (Yes, he does.) Today comes a challenge from Josh Storie, an intern at Levenson & Brinker PR. This is all sooo Facebook. Go, Josh:

Dear Bonathan,

For right now, my name is Josh. You don’t know me but I’m fully aware of who you are. Stories of your interning escapades have provided more humor for the lovely ladies in the cubicles beside me than anything else since I started interning here at Levenson & Brinker PR. As I’m sure you can tell, this is a pretty happening place. But, nonetheless, the tales of the infamous “Bonathan” have caused three of the women who oversee my imminently important and exceedingly entertaining duties as an intern to dub me with a nickname as well. (Oh, it gets better–flip the page.)
Now, you would think that after working in the cutthroat world of public relations for as long as they have, they would craft a nickname so original and so inspired that it could only come from someone who gets paid to think creatively. I mean after all, there are 25 letters in the alphabet other than J that they could play with. Mosh, Gosh, Posh, JoshKosh B’Gosh. The possibilities are endless. But, instead, they decided on Bonathan. Original right? Apparently they determined that a uniform intern nickname was appropriate. So that has been my name for the last 5 weeks. And I don’t hate it. I’ve actually grown accustom to it. Today my boss, Katie, tried to call me by my real name and after three failed attempts she just went back to Bonathan. It’s just easier that way. Most people in the office still wonder why the girls call me Bonathan since it doesn’t remotely resemble my name at all. But typically those people just smile and nod like someone who pretends to be in on an inside joke but really has no clue what’s going on. But the name has added something different to the everyday grind.

When my first day consisted of learning the ins and outs of the copy machine, researching random factoids and going to the post office to buy stamps so I could mail Katie’s personal packages, I thought I had landed another mindless internship that was just going to act as a resume booster. But as I’ve spent time working here, I’ve actually learned a few things. First, I’ve found that the majority of my college professors wouldn’t recognize the real world if it hit them in the face with a bat. Next, making sure my desk is always stocked with gum so those who sign off on my paycheck can have something to chew on after lunch is a completely indispensable and valuable role. And finally, there can’t be two interns named Bonathan. And that brings me to why I am writing you today.

From what I hear (or read), your bosses seem to like you. And I’m pretty sure mine like me alright as well. But Dallas isn’t big enough for two Bonathans. So I hereby challenge you to a competition to end all competitions. A bout that will decide once and for all who the best intern really is, and who gets to keep the ever-so-coveted title of Bonathan. One on one. Man to man. “Bano a Bano”. Should you choose to accept my challenge, we will compete at the new Tower Athletic Club and Spa where we will be tested on physical prowess, athleticism, mental toughness, ability to perform daily office tasks and overall ballerness.

If you’re not up to the challenge, I understand. I’d probably back down out of pure fear if I were in your spot too. But if you want to determine who the best intern really is by competing in one of the most epic battles since the 2002 Asian Badminton Championships (talk about a nail biter), just know that I am here in my starched Polo and khakis ready to come at you like Angelina Jolie on a foreign baby.

Well, I’ve got to get back to work. I have a list of 137 journalists (who don’t give a flip about what I’m pitching them) that I’ve been told to call.
Josh Storie

Julie Powell last night at the DMA.

Tomorrow morning when the New York Times best seller list is released, Julie Powell’s book, Julie & Julia, will be in the number two position. Not bad for a former underpaid secretary-turned-blogger-turned-book author- turned-guest lecturer at last night’s Arts & Letters Live program and the Dallas Museum of Art.

Before last night, I made my feelings about the movie and Ms. Powell pretty clear—I didn’t particularly care for either one of them. The movie was nice, but I don’t like nice overly sweet movies. I can’t comment on Julie Powell’s book or blog because I haven’t read them.  I admitted that, right or wrong, I am extremely jealous of her rags-to-riches-by-blogging success.

Last night, Ms. Powell appeared at the DMA to speak and answer questions. The main hall was filled to capacity and another crowded room watched via closed circuit. SHE IS A FOOD BLOGGER. She does not have the cure for AIDS.

The good news is that I had a chance to tell Julie Powell, in front of a live audience, that I didn’t like her. I told her I was an insanely jealous food blogger and I wanted to know how in the hell she scammed this whole movie deal. You know what she said to me? “Yes, the bloggyness now is so different. I would want to throw me under a bus, too.”

I love her.

And I’m sending her a love letter.

Dear Julie,
Wow, you were really nervous last night. And plain. You didn’t wear any make up or even bother to comb your hair. That’s a gutsy move in Dallas. Especially when I think back on the saline-silicone-collagen-Botox and peroxided crowd of women you faced.

But they loved you. Love, loved, loved you. Like the blond woman who stood up and said, “Thank you, Julie. After I saw the movie on Monday night, I made Julia Child’s recipe for beof Bourgogne for my family and they loved it. And you inspired me to have the courage to try.” I was on the front row. I saw you tear up. And you didn’t even correct her for pronouncing it “beef” Burr-gynn-yon. I don’t think Julia Child would have spotted her that.

I loved it when you kicked your shoes off. I loved it that you never completed one sentence because you lost your train of thought so many times. You elevated the non-sequitur to an art form worthy of its own wall at the DMA.

I loved it that you admitted how young, stupid, desperate, and sad you were in 2003 when you started your food blog. I’m glad that you realize that your recent success isn’t because you are a good writer; you are now famous only because you were in the right place at the right time. I’m also happy to know that your real life was much worse than the one played by Amy Adams in the movie. (I bet she only uses Butter Buds!)  And I was filled with joy to learn that during the real project you didn’t have “as much sex” in real life. You still don’t do you? And you think you have it all.

After listening to you, I could tell that you think the movie’s director and screenwriter Nora Ephron is a real bitch. She kept you out of the movie making process and didn’t collaborate with you very much on the screenplay. You didn’t even get to meet any of the cast until after the movie was made. (Does Meryl even know who you are?) Man, that would have chapped my ass. I mean, Nora Ephron? Talk about desperate. She couldn’t hang on to effin’ Carl Bernstein. And Ephron totally ripped that over-the-top lobster scene straight out of Annie Hall. That old broad doesn’t have an original thought.

Nora’s Julie betrayed you, didn’t she? Nora’s Julie felt that Julia Child taught her joy and how to cook. But you, Julie’s Julie, you are deeper. You feel that Julia Child taught you how to cook, but, more importantly, she taught you how to enjoy life in a different way. Julia wrote a cookbook that changed the culinary world. Mastering the Art of French Cooking has traveled through space and time and it somehow landed on your coffee table and changed the way you now look at life. You know you’re not a good cook, but you do know that, as a result of your year of cooking, you are stronger and live a braver life. Knowing you the way I now know you, Julie’s Julie, I am sure that the huge sums of money now stuffed in your mattress have nothing to do with your new found happiness. Nothing.

I could tell you really wanted to swear last night. You wanted to lace an f-bomb between every word that came out of your mouth. Then you wouldn’t have been so nervous, right? And you would have been happier if the movie had been rated “R” and Nora’s Julie could have let a few f-bombs fly. Damn MPAA. Damn Ephron. They’re all about wide-release money.

Julie, I’m so glad we got to meet and cuss together. I feel so close to you. Not like those three bitches that played your friends in the movie. What? That part was made up by Ephron to create drama and define your character’s dilemma early in the movie? Wow. That gives me hope because I hated them. Like I hated you after I saw the movie on Monday.

Last night you said, “I don’t have a lot of friends, but I like the ones I have.” After our little talk backstage, I am assuming that I’m in there. On the inside circle. We have so much in common—love of food, blogging, swearing, going shoeless in public, and 100,000 hits a day on our websites.

Good luck at the premier tonight. I’ll be here at my blog waiting for your comment.

Bon Appetit,
Nancy