Tenderloin tamales and tortilla soup at Reata

I was living in Fort Worth when Reata moved to Sundance Square in 2002, taking over the old Caravan of Dreams space. Not long in Texas, I experienced every day as a Lone Star adventure, and in Fort Worth those adventures were often accompanied by cattle and cowboys, boots and a biker boyfriend. Things aren’t like that for me anymore. I live in Dallas now. I haven’t seen a cow up close in years. I still wear my boots, but that biker boyfriend is only a cherished memory. Time passes. Things change.

But I was excited to revisit Reata. My first meal there, shortly after that opening nearly 10 years ago included the restaurant’s famed tenderloin tamale. I’ve never forgotten that day, the afternoon sun streamed through the windows as I sat across from a woman whom I thought would become a friend (she didn’t) and sank my teeth into my first bite of seasoned beef wrapped in masa and topped with pecan mash. It was heaven in a corn husk.

On Saturday last, I and a fellow ballet lover arrived at Reata at 4:35, after seeing Dracula at Bass Hall. The restaurant wasn’t seating yet, but the hostess gave us a buzzer with a jazzy picture of a horse on it and told us to wait. To pass the time, we browsed the little gift shop, running our hands over rhinestone bracelets, turquoise necklaces, and belts made of both. We tried on studded handbags for size and discussed whether fringe is just a Texas thing or a nationwide trend for spring. We left the spurs for someone else and got a drink at the handsome bar, which I like to fantasize fills with rugged working men later in the night. (I’ve been told it does not.)

Soon we were seated at a two-top. It was only a few minutes after 5 p.m. and already the restaurant seemed busy and full. All that imagined blood-sucking at Bass Hall must have left a lot of people hungry.

My companion and I both honed in on the smoked quail with cheddar grits appetizer. While we waited to order we quelled our appetites with the bread basket. Mini cornbread muffins and pecan-studded biscuits were happy little pillows of sustenance. We gave thanks for the butter, room temperature and made savory with jalepenos and roasted garlic.

We felt equally grateful about the fat, tender, and juicy bird that soon arrived. Butterflied, finished on the grill, and cut in two, it sat atop a pool of jalepeno cheese grits garnished with julienned green onion and a swirl of mesquite barbecue sauce. We each grabbed our half of the bird and went to work – my lovely friend with a knife and fork, me with my hands. I sucked every last shred of that meat from the bone like the redneck my mama raised me to be. I ate spoonful after spoonful of the grits; my friend tried them and declared them too glutinous, but she agreed it was simply a matter of preference. Overall, the dish was a hit.

If only we’d stopped there.

The tortilla soup was unimpressive — and not like the tortilla soups I’ve eaten elsewhere. The thin, bland broth had flecks of cilantro and diced pepper and avocado, but no discernible personality. When I tasted the soup, I complained to my friend, “It’s missing a food group – tomatoes!” To which she replied, “It’s missing a spice group – anything!”

Service was super quick. We’d barely handed over our menus when our very young waiter named Mathew (with one T) brought our quail. I was still licking succulent bird juice from my fingers when a different waiter delivered our soup and tamales. Was it because we were eating so early, we asked Mathew with One T when he came back to see if we were enjoying our food. No, he said, these particular dishes always come out really fast. Which makes sense. Tamales and soup aren’t something the kitchen is making to order.

Oh, about those tamales. They didn’t live up to my recollection. Three huge servings looked impressive on the plate but tasted only average. The meat was a little dry. My taste buds were bored. My friend didn’t especially like the nutty flavor imparted by the pecan mash. “Well, so much for that,” I thought.

Memory is a funny thing. It plays tricks on us. It rewrites history, often making it more palatable. Or maybe it’s just that some things, like biker boyfriends and tenderloin tamales, really are better the first time around. Are better when they remain a fond reflection of a time past.

My Last Supper at Nana: Grilled duck with beets. Photography by Kevin Marple.

This news breaks my heart. Nana Restaurant at the Hilton Anatole, led by the talented and innovative chef Anthony Bombaci, will close on June 9. The restaurant will undergo reconstructive surgery and emerge as an upscale steak house in late September.

Here are some of the details I’ve beat out the bushes. The new name has not been selected. (We can certainly help with that. Leave your suggestion below.) The interior, designed by a California firm, will be “contemporary with an LA-inspired design.” (The skyline view will remain Dallas’!) The menu will be “all about steaks and one-of-a-kind sides and desserts.” The executive chef of the steakhouse hasn’t been confirmed, but that person will work under Anthony Bombaci who has been promoted. I don’t know his position at this point.

Oh, Nana. You have been such a blessing to this city. We loved you when Doug Brown was the chef and Jason Foss was the pastry chef. We loved you during the fancy days when David McMillan sent entrees out of Versace and Rosenthal china and general manager and wine expert Paul Pinnell roamed the room. We love you for bringing Anthony Bombaci to Dallas. This news makes me appreciate my last meal at Nana even more.

Make a final visit and pay homage to Nana. You have a little over three months to get your Bombaci fix. Make a reservation now: 214-761-7470. And name the new restaurant below!

Part 1: Quickfire/Asian Domination

Last week, the chefs realized that one of the losing contestants (either Bev or Grayson) would be returning through Last Chance Kitchen, which would increase their numero to cinco. Sarah (who looks like Austin Eater editor Andrea Grimes, don’t you think?) is noticeably disappointed when Bev walks through the doors to compete with the other four in this elimination challenge because tiny Bev is a fierce competitor. She is a beast.

Now three out of the five contestants are repping the Asian continent. I would just like to point that out. #minoritypride

Jump for more shenanigans.

Padma then tells the chefs they have to walk around with blindfolds as they’re gathering ingredients. They must use every single ingredient they pick up, and the winner gets to choose between a new Prius v or a spot in the final four. Poor Bev. Half of the time, she is nowhere near anything edible; and the other half, she is feeling everybody up. (Not a bad excuse to bump into Paul, eh?) Bev and Paul undercook their fish and prawn (respectively) while Sarah and Ed’s dishes stand out to the judges. Ultimately, the corn soup with red chili and peaches that Sarah whipped up earns her a spot in the final four. She declines the Prius v (dumb, so dumb..) and chooses to spend the rest of her day lollygagging instead of competing in the elimination challenge. LUCKY HER.

Part 2: Elimination Challenge

Tom and Padma introduce the next part of this saga: The cheftestants must create a dish that will please their mentors. Somebody cue the waterworks. As soon as the mentors file in, Paul spots his Uchiko boss of eight years, Tyson, and immediately turns into a blubbering fountain of tears. Eventually, all the chefs start crying as introduce their mentors to the judges. Then the mentors start tearing up too, and the whole situation just turns into a big gooey mess.

Nobody wants to make their mentor look bad at the judging table, so the pressure is on. Since there aren’t any fresh oysters in Whole Foods, Ed picks up pre-smoked oysters which everyone knows is a dumb move except for Ed because he’s stressing himself out. Ugh. While Ed’s in the kitchen cooking his stupid smoked oysters, he says, “I just hope I didn’t psyche myself out.” Double sigh. Bravo, please keep all the heavy foreshadowing to yourself. I don’t want Ed to leave.

Part 3: Judging Table

While Sarah is off frolicking with her mentor, Paul cooks a chilled sunchoke and dashi soup, Bev fires up BBQ noodles with a risky wok move, Ed makes braised pork belly with pickles, and Lindsay adds too much cream to her seafood stew with mussels and clams. When the judges realize Ed bought smoked oysters instead of fresh ones, Padma nicely tells Ed to “please pack his knives and go.” Oh, Ed. Whyyyy did you have to pick those stupid smoked oysters? It’s OK, though, because at least this means I get to see you tomorrow with Michelle Obama.

Episode 15 Preview

The fearsome final four are in British Columbia, cooking Canadian game in thick jackets and snow boots. Is anyone else confused? I thought this show was supposed to be about Texas.

Oh yeah, it's for real.

We’re suckers for any press release that contains the following sentences:

• Yes, this is really real.
• Don’t you judge us; we all knew it would end up here someday.
• And yeah, your right we probably did go too far this time.
• Sorry, Mom.

It seems a couple well-intentioned entrepreneurs have teamed up with J&D’s Foods to create a little something they’re calling baconlube—the world’s first bacon-flavored, water-based, American-made, personal lubricant.

Billing itself as the “gold standard of meat-flavored massage oils” (natch) baconlube, they say, is like the McRib of sex: it’s delicious, makes men crazy, is here for a limited time, and is in short supply.

If you’re thinking “stocking stuffer!” (let’s stay on track here), we’re right behind you. But the boys only made 3,000 bottles of this pork-flavored nectar. It hit the interwebs yesterday at www.baconlube.com. How much, you ask, for a product that promises such a satisfying holiday season? Only $11.99.

you know you want more. jump for it…Still on the fence? Here’s a little rationalization.

FACT – People are passionate about bacon.  According to a recent survey of Canadians by Maple Leaf Foods, Canada’s market leader in the bacon category, when asked to choose between bacon and sex, more than four in 10 (43%) chose bacon.  Thanks to baconlube, Canadians will never have to choose between two of life’s greatest pleasures again.  So you’re welcome Canada, you’re welcome – we’ve got your back.

Need I mention, we’ve requested a sample?

Good wines gone bad.

Forgive me Master Sommeliers and wine collectors around the world, I have sinned. I am here to confess my deepest darkest wine secret: I improperly stored four bottles of fabulous wine. For nearly 35 years.

Look at the photos and weep with (for?) me. I recently uncovered these bottles in a box buried beneath a pile of old Christmas decorations in my garage. Yes, my garage, where it sat for close to 35 summers, winters, springs, and falls. I am a human species of Phylloxera.

I could have pulled another Billionaire’s Vinegar and called Sotheby’s and claimed the wine was given to me by Richard Nixon and I’ve kept it hidden in a bricked-up Paris cellar. Instead I’m posting pictures of my crime. Perhaps there are others who have committed the same dirty deed.

Full confession below.

Yes, $19.79 before my employee discount.

Self portrait.

I used to collect wine, especially French wine. Specifically those of Bordeaux. I worked at a wine bar in Dallas called La Cave and spent my off time learning about French wine. My former boss, François Chandou, still runs La Cave Warehouse.  He is my witness. I bought hundreds of bottles of French Bordeaux. I wore a laminated vintage chart around my neck and scoured wine shops and wine lists looking for the best.

Eventually, I drank it all. Well, except for these four bottles. Is there anything I can do? Do I even attempt to drink them? (Does anyone want to buy them?)

I would like to take this moment to apologize to Bacchus, Dionysos, the early colonists of Southern Gaul, the concept of terroir, Baron Philippe de Rothschild (and subsequent Barons), James Tidwell, and Drew Hendricks. My deepest regrets to the chateaus: Latour, Mouton-Rothchild, Margaux (oh, sweet Margaux), Haut-Brion, Petrus, Pomerol, St. Emilion, and d’Yquem. Sorrows to you dear Cabernet Savignon, Merlot, and Cab Franc grapes. You gave your lives only to sit in a bottle in a box underneath a pile of old Christmas decorations in my garage. I am unworthy of your grace.

There is about a half inch of sediment in the neck of this bottle.

Sorry lion-guarded fortresses of France.

This wine was my first true love. We sold it for $4 a glass at La Cave. At one point I owned two cases.

Heinous. Painful. Wrong.

I feel horrible. Mai Phom was Dallas’ primary Vietnamese cuisine evangelist. She opened the city’s first popular Vietnamese restaurant in 1980. The original restaurant in East Dallas still bears her name but she moved to the tiny spot in Snider Plaza where she could be found every day. My former colleague Mary Brown Malouf once wrote:

“Those were the days when ethnic food meant Mexican food, unless it meant Szechuan. Now Vietnamese is practically mainstream and even has at least one almost upscale representative. Mainly, it has become habitual; many of us go out for Vietnamese as often as we go out for Mexican. So it seems strange to me that Mai, who was a pioneer, is now relatively unknown. Her little restaurant in Snider Plaza is practically a secret.”

I tried to reach someone with the restaurant to get a clear picture of what has transpired, but they have already closed and there is no voicemail. If anybody out there has the story, I’d love to know it.

UPPITY DATE: Jiang’s Cuisine has moved.

Anybody have some suggestions for the former employees when it comes tax time? We never received check stubs or info on the taxes taken out of them, that is when we did get them and they didn’t bounce.

I contacted Gregory P. Williams, a CPA with Restaurant CFO Partners in Plano. He has a lot of answers. They are below. I’ve also included his contact information if you have more questions.

Here’s Greg:

Good question!  Below are the official IRS procedures to follow in this situation.  Even in bankruptcy, employers generally send out W-2’s.  If this is not the case in this situation, then I anticipate that the employee will have to follow procedures 2 & 3 and estimate their earnings.

If you haven’t received your W-2, follow these four steps:

1. Contact your employer -If you have not received your W-2, contact your employer to inquire if and when the W-2 was mailed. If it was mailed, it may have been returned to the employer because of an incorrect or incomplete address. After contacting the employer, allow a reasonable amount of time for them to resend or to issue the W-2.

2. Contact the IRS –  If you do not receive your W-2 by February 14th, contact the IRS for assistance at 800-829-1040. When you call, you must provide your name, address, city and state, including zip code, Social Security number, phone number and have the following information:

• Employer’s name, address, city and state, including zip code and phone number

• Dates of employment

• An estimate of the wages you earned, the federal income tax withheld, and when you worked for that employer during 2010. The estimate should be based on year-to-date information from your final pay stub or leave-and-earnings statement, if possible.

3. File your return – You still must file your tax return or request an extension to file April 16, 2012, even if you do not receive your Form W-2. If you have not received your Form W-2 by the due date, and have completed steps 1 and 2, you may use Form 4852, Substitute for Form W-2, Wage and Tax Statement. Attach Form 4852 to the return, estimating income and withholding taxes as accurately as possible.  There may be a delay in any refund due while the information is verified.

4. File a Form 1040X – On occasion, you may receive your missing W-2 after you filed your return using Form 4852, and the information may be different from what you reported on your return. If this happens, you must amend your return by filing a Form 1040X, Amended U.S. Individual Income Tax Return.

Gregory P. Williams

Restaurant CFO Partners

701 E. 15th Street

Suite 201

Plano, TX 75074

Tel: 972-633-8999

Savor Dallas announces the 8th Annual event will be held March 30-31, 2012, and expands regionally. Participants can enjoy wine, food, spirits and the arts in the Dallas Arts District, and the new Irving Convention Center at Las Colinas, 500 W. Las Colinas Blvd.

Hey, Jim White! What is up? Are you changing the name to Savor Dallas and Irving? Have you ever heard of a basketball tournament called “The Final Four?” Dude, give us the news.

UPPITY DATE:  Savor Dalling Irvas Dallas organizer, Jim White, responds below. He is on top of the whole situation. All good. Jump for it.

I first encountered this tasty treat while walking past a street vendor in Paris. It is a custard tart of some kind, I have never figured out the actual name.The are available everywhere in Paris from bakeries to street vendors and SO tasty. Please help!

Well, he at least took a picture and said please. Okay, let’s get busy.

I hate it all as much as I hated eating in Paula Deen’s restaurant in Savannah. I can still smell the cloud of burnt butter that met me at the door of Lady and Sons Restaurant. The portions were obnoxiously huge and I had to shower when I got back to my hotel.

The last time I visited the Fair, I sat at one of the picnic benches and watched a family of three eat their way through a pile of food. The husband and wife, maybe in their early 40s, were obese. The woman was in a wheel chair with an oxygen tank. The husband, who weighed at least 350 pounds, was shoveling food in his mouth using both hands. The saddest sight was their son. He couldn’t have been 12 years old and already on the verge of obesity. He was listlessly staring at the ground and gnawing on a huge turkey leg.

I can hear you crying: “It’s only once a year. Live a little. Have some fun.” I can’t. That isn’t fun or funny to me. It’s gross.

This quick assessment from a professional food critic who reviewed Dallas restaurants while taking copious amounts of sinus medication? After my ENT doctor read about Raskin’s sinus problems,  he called me and said: “She had no business reviewing restaurants. Her palate was dead.” If I were a restaurateur who was reviewed during her reign, I’d be demanding a redo. No wonder she called Dallas a “dining nowhereville.” She wasn’t able to taste anything. She blathers on:

I shouldn’t be surprised that the imagined relationship between rigorous professional criticism and good food doesn’t hold up. I moved here from Dallas, a city that’s covered ruthlessly by established food critics, including the Dallas Morning News‘ Leslie Brenner, D Magazine’s Nancy Nichols, and Texas Monthly’s Pat Sharpe. The food there isn’t any better for it.

Hanna, you take one trip to Portland and declare “Portland appears to have entered the post-professional critic era, and the food scene hasn’t suffered.” Oh my. I need a Xanax. Writers in Portland were sadly laid off by print publications. Raskin should be next.

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.

Nancy, here’s a terrible experience last night [Saturday] at Maple & Motor. It turned out okay but could have been much different: A rather disheveled woman driving a green Mazda (with Wisconsin license plates) was at Maple & Motor around 7:30pm. It was 103. She left her dogs in the car with the windows barely cracked open. There was the long line of folks waiting to order and I knew they would have been trapped in that hot car for at least twenty minutes. Poor dogs.

Apparently the staff at M&M called for the owner to let the dogs out. However two groups of customers also called the police. I contacted owner Jack Perkins. “We did have a situation like that,” Perkins said. “We did champion the welfare of the animals, as we always will. The customer, who was not a regular, went home, left the animals, called in, and picked up the order later. No human or animal was injured in the making of their hamburgers. Well. I suppose the cow was.”