I just received an email from a reader. She asked if Ranchman’s Café in Ponder, Texas was still good. The small comfort food restaurant, which has been open since 1948, used to serve the best chicken fried steak and pies in the area. The kitchen used to pan-fry a thick T-bone steak. Now they use pounded patties. I haven’t been since October, 2009 when I wrote this post which includes a video of them making CFS. when I shot this video. Any of you been recently?
How many times have you returned from a vacation and rushed to your favorite restaurant for a fix of your favorite food? For almost 20 years, I drove from the airport to Mi Cocina in Preston Royal and went face down in a plate of nachos. Then came In-N-Out. Okay, so Andrew doesn’t love it. He’s British. He ingests cans of Spotted Dick Sponge Pudding and Vegemite, a nasty paste I use as a bug killer.
I lived in California for 11 years so perhaps I am experiencing the reverse-home-town-food-nostalgia syndrome that affects older people because when I returned from vacation last week, I drove straight to In-N-Out and devoured a DDAS (double-double animal style) like a rabid coyote. EVERYBODY knows you order the fries crispy at INO. Everybody but Andrew.
Anywhoo, where do you go when you re-enter your life in Dallas?
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!
This plea from another Disher suffering from restaurant memory loss:
I am trying to recollect the name of a restaurant that was operating in the 1970’s and 80’s located on the Circle – it was rather exclusive (and if my memory serves me correctly – required reservations). Probably around 1979, family members took my nephew there for his high school graduation dinner – and recently we were sitting around discussing that event – and guess what? Not a one of us could recall the name of the restaurant.
Southern Kitchen?
I have two songs permanently embedded in my head. They’ve been there for years (centuries?). They have a life of their own and flow from the deep recesses of my right cerebrum and out of my mouth without a prompt. One is “I Want to Marry a Lighthouse Keeper.” The other is “Java Jive” as performed by Manhattan Transfer. We all know “Brown Sugar” has nothing to do with food, but, WITHOUT GOOGLE, what songs about food do you sing? Waiter, waiter, percolator…
Anybody remember the name of the small French bistro on Lowest Greenville (at Prospect) that was open for a few years in the early ’80s? I believe it was run by Tom (Stoneleigh P) Garrison’s then wife.
There’s a common sentiment among restaurant critics: We have to eat a lot of poor quality and mediocre food before we taste something memorable. But, oh baby, when that over-the-top bite hits your mouth, you know you’ve found it. Something about the drink, dish, or dessert pushes it above the hundreds of thousands of other bites you’ve taken over the year.
The following items rocked my senses in 2011. In no particular order, and off the top of my head, they are:
Most Pleasant Meal of the Year: Dinner at Lavendou. Sometimes the taste of the food is elevated by the overall dining experience. Usually it happens spontaneously. One cold, rainy evening I went to dinner at Lavendou with two dear friends. The dining room was crowded and festive, but not loud. The service was friendly, but not in-your-face. The food was delicious and the French wine stimulated our conversation for hours. We left full of more than food. We shared a meal that was more than just a sum of its parts on a cold, rainy Monday night.
Although La Garza is all about sisterhood (“I am Sissy,” Garza says. “Sissy is southern slang for “sister” and I am developing every aspect.”) there will be no sissy in the kitchen. La G has plucked Jeffery Hobbs and named him “leader of the kitchen.”
Oh, it’s a tangled tale—an episode of As the Restaurant Turns. Here’s the synopsis: Lisa was married to Chef Gilbert Garza. Together they operated Suze Restaurant, the cozy spot on Midway and NW Highway. At some point, Jeffery Hobbs joined the happy couple to work on the kitchen team as chef and partner. Hobbs and Gilbert ran a great restaurant. Lisa concentrated on catering. Lisa was picked as a contestant on Next Food Network Star. The experience was devastating, as most former TV reality participants will admit is generally the case. The Garzas divorced and Lisa retreated for a couple of years. She emerged as a fancy caterer. Found a new guy. Got re-married and is now pregnant with new restaurant.
After eight years at Suze, Hobbs splits to partner with burgeoning bully restaurateur, Jack “Maple & Motor” Perkins. They’re consulting on taco joints. Then La G calls Hobbs and asks him to be the “leader of her kitchen.” According to La G, Gilbert has given his blessing to the deal. See, there can be happy endings. Or beginnings. Stay tuned.
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. (more…)
A friend just called and told me Mai’s Oriental in Snider Plaza had closed. I looked up some old reviews of the spot which was opened by Mai Phom in 1994. Then I realized that sometime within the last two years, the name of the restaurant was changed to Jiang’s Cuisine. I had no idea the restaurant had switched hands until this moment.
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.
In 1971, I spent most of my Sunday mornings in a line around the original Herrera’s on Maple Avenue. My friends and I would sit under a dripping window AC unit for hours, waiting for our turn at one of the nine tables inside the tiny, lard-based Tex-Mex restaurant. Once seated, you popped open the six-pack of Coors you brought with you and watched founder Amelia Herrera hand-pat flour tortillas by the front door. The food was such a religious experience for me that, 17 years later, I got married at Herrera’s, which by then had moved into a bigger building across the street and expanded into more locations all over Dallas. Recently, they moved into a newer building down Maple.
She’s got a hankering for diamond-less rings. And she’s new in town. Give her a hand.
Hey, Nancy! I just moved here from Atlanta and I am hungry for the onion rings served at The Varsity. What place in Dallas has onion rings like these?
The rings at The Varsity are fairly thin, crunchy, and greasy. Kinda like the ones served at Peggy Sue BBQ or Sonny Bryan’s.
Last night I decided to drop into Princi Italia, Patrick Colombo’s new spot in the old Poplolos space in Preston Royal. The executive chef, Kevin Ascolese, was Columbo’s chef at Ferre in West Village. Before that he cooked at Salve and Mi Piaci. I also spotted veteran chef/baker David Brawley in the kitchen. If my brain synapses are functioning correctly today, I believe Brawley and Ascolese were together at Salve. (I can still taste the bread he made there.)
The space, designed by JonesBaker, has been completely redone into a sort of contemporary Texas-Tuscan farmhouse. The ceilings have been raised and I loved the rustic basket “chandeliers.” The room is light and open. I feel like the bar area may prove to be too small once word hits the surrounding neighborhood. Two flat screen TVs can be seen from any spot in the house. (Not so Tuscan.)
However, the food was classic Ascolese which translates into finer versions of “safe” Dallas Italian food. I could eat the tagliatelle Bolognese every night. The sauce was barely a sauce. The light, house made noodles were tossed with fresh tomatoes, basil, small bits of meat, and Parmigiano-Reggiano. Not a drop of liquid pooled on the bottom of the plate. Which I guess is a good thing because there would have been nothing for me to sop it up with. No bread. Patrick, you hired David Brawley and don’t serve bread on the table? Yes, he can make pizza dough; he proved that at Fireside Pies. And Princi does have a wood burning pizza oven. I guess I’ll eat pizza next time.
I almost choked on a salad of rapini and arugula. The greens were blanched and formed a tangled salad of soggy leaves and stems which were topped with a salty, in a good way, blob of burrata cheese. Once again I yearned for bread. The broth beneath the weed was a drinkable liquid of olive oil, specks of red pepper, and lemon. The plates of Italian “specialties” such as grilled Colorado trout, veal Slatimbocca, and grilled wild Alaska salmon going to other tables looked interesting. The portions are just right and priced from $13 to $20. The list is full of nice Italian reds, whites, and sparkling wine most of which are in the mid-$30 to $50 range. You can order a carafe of several interesting wines for $15 to $31 (12 ounces).
Princi reminds me of Popolos when they first opened—it’s a perfect fit for the demographics of the nearby neighborhood. However, times have changed and Princi is much more casual. Shower shoes and shorts and school uniforms were the norm last night.
I listen to a lot of public radio. A couple months ago, my home girl Terri Gross broadcast an interview on Fresh Air that focused on the logistical and ethical questions at play regarding growing meat from stem cells in a laboratory setting.
Before you jump to conclusions about real vs. lab-created meat, science writer Michael Specter, who traveled to laboratories in the Netherlands and North Carolina to examine the progress scientists have made in developing in vitro meat, is quick to point out that this is real meat. It’s real muscle cells, the same ones that live inside a real cow, minus the environmental bugbears such as pesticides, UV radiation, etc. (Specter wrote about the arguments in favor of lab-made steaks in the May 23 issue of The New Yorker.)
Even though the technology and global feasibility are still in development, I’d lay money on the fact that the technology’s not going to fade away. And being that this is Texas, this is a topic worth familiarizing ourselves with so that we can have a reasonable discussion about the technology’s pros and cons.
Pros: a reduction in animal cruelty and greenhouse gas emissions
Cons: You tell me. Especially in light of rising population numbers and the domino effect of socioeconomic and environmental pitfalls associated with feeding all those people.
Agriculture stats show that the largest share of Texas’ agricultural income is derived from beef cattle. Texas ranks #1 in the country in cattle raised—a number that can exceed 14 million head. That’s about 20 percent of the nation’s beef cattle.
I encourage you to listen to the episode of Fresh Air and read Specter’s article, then return for a discussion in the comments section.
In the early 1970s, Julia Child, that awkward, unlikely figurehead from the front of the mid-century culinary ship, had me at bonjour. Like many of you, I spent many formative (pre-cable) hours following Julia on PBS, enchanted by her stilted speech, her soap-and-water directness, and her unapologetic rapture in the kitchen.
Years later, in 1988, my college boyfriend and I drove to Virginia so that I could meet his grandmother, Maimie, for the first time. During our visit, she flooded me with stories of her college roommate at Smith, who just happened to be Julia McWilliams (pre-Child). According to the birdlike Maimie, they called each other by the nicknames “Skinny” and “Fatty.” Maimie was the latter. And Julia—or Skinny—was a domestic lost-cause.
But I digress.
Julia would have been 99 this week, and in honor of her royal rightness, HuffPost compiled nine of their favorite episodes of The French Chef, Julia Child & Company and Julia & Jacques: Cooking at Home. The omelette episode, especially, takes me back to that vinyl couch in our sunroom, where I spent many a Saturday afternoon glued to the set (and the vinyl) as Julia stumbled through sentences and tried to find something to do with her hands when they weren’t actively engaged in pinching dough and swinging a cleaver. Revisiting those clips today feels like opening a window on a breezy fall day. Join me in enjoying them.
jump for more Julia nostalgia… (more…)
This kinda sorta rude Disher sez:
Nancy, you all seem to write about Pizza, especially Jay Jerrier’s. Can you move your brain away from Cane Rosso and perhaps tell me about where to get a calzone?
I picked the wrong day to quit feeling chirpy, chirpy, cheep, cheep! (Warning, that song will attach to your brain forever.) And dude, you don’t need to capitalize the P in pizza. Calzone suggestions anyone? Jay?
Café Mykonos, a “European restaurant with a Greek influence,” is, according to their website, undergoing a facelift. This morning comes word from their head surgeon, chef Tony Gardizi. You remember Tony. He’s cheffed at Vino and Basso, Guthrie’s, Bali Bar, Mi Piaci, and Capriccio Ristoranti. Most recently he went down with the ship at Decanter Restaurant in Bishop Arts. Chef Gardizi’s new menu at Café Mykonos rolls out today.
UPITTY DATE: Gardizi said the new menu is locally sourced New American. It will not be Greek at all.
Jeez, I forgot to mention Vueve. You remember Vueve and Club Nine7Two. The Champagne company got upset and they had to change their name to Vue. There was a miniature Trevi Fountain in the dining room and Gardizi attempted to create Global Cuisine? If you don’t remember, Heather will show you around.
This Little Piggy Went Downtown
Oh yeah, it's for real.
We’re suckers for any press release that contains the following sentences:
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… (more…)