Marc’s famous mussels by Kevin Hunter Marple.

Are you crazy about chef Marc Cassel’s mussels? Do you love Spam on your pizza? Is bocce a cheese, a font, or a game? Extra, extra, read all about it.

The speaker in the drive-through is in desperate need of repair. The crackling high-pitched screech cooked my cochlea and fried my synapses. Somehow I managed to order a 10-piece family pack, sides of okra and cole slaw, and a fried pie. As I waited by the window, I asked the nice lady, Naomi, if the recipe was the same as Brothers. She said it was—I didn’t actually hear her, but luckily I’m a great reader of lips.

Anywhoo, imagine my co-workers surprise when I walked in with a free lunch! Well, the whole deal was only $19.45 and it made even the skinny people happy. Vegetarians, not so much.

Here is my take: The chicken pieces were huge and the crust was crunchy and crispy. (No extra salt was needed. I drizzled jalapeno juice on mine.) Cole slaw was not great—too much mayo. Fries reminded me of my ex-husband—they were soft and wimpy. Fried okra were State Fair quality—nothing but crispy little balls of probably frozen okra. But Naomi was nice and the chicken was worth the drive. Co-workers, let me hear from you. (909 Fitzhugh @ Gaston. 214-370-0800)

The same goes for restaurants that call and request a restaurant review or “listing.” I ask them to send a copy of the menu and tell them they will be considered for a review but there are never any guarantees. If I do decide to write about it and the review isn’t glowing, I usually get a phone call, e-mail, or letter complaining that I was unfair. Okay, carry on, just a thought.

Zorbas changed ownership and it is now a disaster! After many great meals
there I went for lunch last week. After waiting for 20 minutes and no sign
of our waiter I signaled to him across the room by pointing at my watch. He
yelled across the restaurant “I am not the cook”. When the meal came some 5
minutes later, it was the wrong dish. This used to be a good spot. No more!

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.)

D Facebook Fan recommendations and comments

St. Paul Cafe at First Baptist Dallas: “great burger!”

Beyond the Box (across from Thanksgiving Square)

YO Ranch Steakhouse: “The West End ain’t just for tourists you know.”

Tootsie’s Cafe

Carmines Pizza

Urban Cafe: “They deliver if you want to order for a meeting”

Dakota’s: “Happy hour and great drink specials until 7pm and the $2 burger”

Happy Hour Deli: “It’s under Fountain Place. Great avocado sandwich. Egg salad and chicken salad are tasty too.”

Sonny Bryan’s (West End)

Jus Mex: “Awesome for breakfast tacos”

Sushi Japan

Aija: “Yummy and great view. Buffet style Asian food on white tablecloths.”

Iron Cactus: “Good food, better drinks, awesome atmosphere.”

Reno’s Grill

Bacon-wrapped organic chicken sandwich on ciabatta.

I just dropped into the newish Texas de Brazil Express in Preston Center and picked up a couple of sandwiches. It’s a create-your-own sandwich, salad, or rice bowl concept. I guess you could call it a mini-churrascaria: There are skewers of beef, chicken, lamb, pork, Brazilian sausage, and picanha (sirloin) sizzling over an open flame in the middle of the self-service line.

If you love Texas de Brazil, you’ll love the mini-TdB. It’s certainly a cheaper way to enjoy the familiar meats. It took me forever to make up my mind, but dozens of regulars moved past me and recited their orders like robots.

Jump for my love.

First, I constructed a sandwich with ciabatta bread and bacon-wrapped organic chicken. I covered it with roasted garlic mayonnaise, crispy shallots, roasted red bell peppers, a slice of provolone, sliced tomatoes, and pickled jalapenos.

Then I picked a baguette and lined the bread with picanha, roasted red peppers, Muenster cheese, and a small ladle of bitchin’ chimichuri sauce.

Picanha with chimichuri sauce, red bell pepper, and Muenster cheese on baguette.

The baguette was too thick and dense which made it difficult to bite through. When I finally did managed to chew through, the oil from the chimichuri sauce ran down my arm, across my keyboard, and over the side of my desk. Luckily my faithful dog, Lulu, was there and licked it off before it hit the floor. I ditched the bread and the remaining slices of steak and cheese made a lovely little lunch plate. (This would have been a great salad combination.)

The delicate ciabatta bread was more user friendly and the hot juicy chicken balls stayed between the bread and allowed me to savor all of the flavors—salty bacon colliding with hot jalapenos and sweet red pepper.

I’d go back. The high-quality ingredients are superb. Sandwiches range from $5.85 to $7.50 and it’s quick and easy.

The two huge slices of Mexican bread are filled with fistfuls of sliced avocados, chopped and griddled poblano peppers and white onion, melted white cheese, crema, sliced tomatoes, and lettuce. For a little torta joint, this place offers a zillion options: too many tortas to name (Cubana is probably the most familiar to you), quesadillas (deep-fried), enchiladas mole, and tostadas. They also carry a large selection of bottled Mexican soft drinks and candies. The price of the torta poblano is $6.69 but one is enough for two people. Unless one of those people is me. I am looking down at my stomach right now and it looks like I am, once again, pregnant with a food baby.

Ranchman’s Café has been a figure on what remains of the Texas Blackland Prairie around Ponder (east of Denton) since 1948. (Or 14 years after Bonnie and Clyde attempted to rob the Ponder State Bank just down the street.) The spirit of long-time owner and founder Grace “Pete” Jackson lives on under the ownership of Dave Ross who worked as a cook for Pete in the 70s while he attended UNT.

I discovered Ranchman’s in 1970 when I was a freshman at UNT (them NTSU). My friends and I used to rent horses in Denton, ride across the land, and tie our fillies to the railing at the old post office across the street from Ranchman’s. We feasted on hand-cut steaks that Pete chicken-fried in a pan and homemade pie and napped under the big pecan tree down the road.

Fast forward to last Sunday when my mom, her friend Ann, and I drove up for a nostalgic dinner. The place looks the same: the linoleum on the original tables has been worn down to the wood. Instead of pan-fried T-bones, the kitchen tenderizes round steak, dips it in flour, and milk tosses it in a deep fryer. Almost everything on the side is fried: green tomatoes, squash, and most of the vegetables-of-the-day. Ranchman’s Café make Blythe Beck’s naughty food look like spa cuisine. Enough reading, watch the video for a tour of the restaurant and a chicken fried steak cooking demonstration. Reservations: 940-479-2221 (pre-order baked potatoes.)

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?

Brisket tacos.

Owner Carolina Galvan-Rodriguez is the former wife of MCrowd (Mi Cocina, Taco Diner) visionary Mico Rodriquez. She has set out on her own with big plans—earlier this year she announced she would be unveil two locations of Carolina’s (Rosemeade opened on June 7th; Central and Parker in Plano on June 26th) and two Taco Mundo retaurants (Preston Royal and Centreport in Fort Worth). Preston Royal was originally slated to open on July 24, while August 4th was the date for Centreport. According to Rodriquez’s publicist, Sharon Adams, both Taco Mundo locations have been delayed “due to construction.”

The food we tried at the Rosemeade location was delightful. A huge scoop of guacamole, warm fried chips, and salsa came immediately along with a nice stiff glass of freshly brewed tea with lime. We sampled brisket tacos—stringy in a good way soft meat laced with hot peppers and mild queso fresco was tucked into four fresh four-inch corn tortillas. Two pork tamales were covered in a chili gravy sauce and were served with fluffy Spanish rice, clean (not lard-ridden) refried beans, pico de gallo. Tex-Mex options offer mix and match enchiladas and sauces: Choose chicken, beef, or cheese enchiladas and cover with chili con carne, chili con queso, ranchera, spicy queso, sour cream sauce, or tomatillo.

We didn’t try one, but the margaritas are priced at $6.95. Anyone? Jump for more photos.

Pork tamales.

Chicken enchiladas with sour cream sauce.

Samar’s creators paid huge attention to design. The following video is a tour of the restaurant with Stephan Pyles. (Pardon the sound; the place was packed.)

We sent Andrew Chalk to cover the semi-soft opening of Samar by Stephan Pyles. Here is his report. You want chandeliers? Stephan Pyles bought some chandeliers for Samar. Go Andrew:

Samar by Stephan Pyles held its invite-only preview party on Saturday and, judging by the turnout, reservations to this new eatery are going to be hard to get. (The official opening day is still TBD but planned for “early October.”)

Saturday, close to 1,000 of Stephan’s closest friends piled into the restaurant, the patio, and a specially rented spillover area. Despite the crowd, the staff coped with the rush like a well-oiled machine. Even the periodic guest-dropping-a-glass-in-a-crowded-bar problem was immediately met with a staffer who cordoned off the area while another cleaned it clean up. The kitchen and wait staff dispatched appetizers with that frictionless regularity which makes you wonder if the servers aren’t on roller skates.

The centerpiece of any restaurant is the food. Pyles installed Vijay Sadhu, formerly of Bukhara Grille and Clay Pit, as head chef because he wanted Indian cuisine to be one of the inspirations at Samar.The other influences on the menu come from Spain and the area loosely defined as the Eastern Mediterranean (mainly Lebanon, Syria, and Turkey). Here is chef Sadhu describing some of the appetizers.

Chef Sadhu showed the crowd his ambitious stuff—all of the food was prepared perfectly. As he showed at his earlier positions, Vijay Sadhu is an expert and combining flavors and bringing them out in his dishes. Here is a short list of what was served: Red Lentiles Kofte (Turkish), Kebbeh with Golden beets tzatziki sauce, Chicken kebab stuffed with spiced gound lamb served with Spice tomato jam and crispy okra, Saffron Paneer tikka with spiced vermicelli and cumin scented asparagus, Chocolate Samosa with rose jam, and Papadam cones stuffed with Mung sprouts

Guests were offered either a specially created martini that apparently involved pomegranate juice (and had a fruity approachability that made it deceptively easy to imbibe) or one of a number of respectable wines.This food, by the way, is wine-friendly.

Outside, the patio was put to good use. Belly dancers entertained the crowd that, coincidentally, became progressively less and less reserved.

Hookah pipes were available to complete one’s sense transportation from the corner of Ross and Olive to some exotic country.

Strawberry cream pie. (photo by Kevin Hunter Marple)

Teresa Gubbins has something to say about everything. Today she has something to say about Bliss Raw Café and Elixir Bar in Dallas. I have not been to Bliss, well the restaurant anyway, but I hear that the regulars are, well, quite regular.

Trout topped with langoustine. See that delicate pink turnip on the green beans? Make sure you try them.

Other than the dessert soufflés, there is a lot to like about Cadot. Long-time Dallas chefs Gaspar Stantic and Jean-Marie Cadot are turning out some nice French-influenced dishes. Click here to read my full review of Cadot.

(photo by Kevin Hunter Marple)

Smoke's $16 burger

Full disclosure: I’m a Cliffdweller and love/hate that the 75225 crowd have discovered how cool life south of the Trinity can be. (Overheard one night at Bolsa: “Oh my gawd! Look at that taco hut across the street, y’all. Have you ever seen so many in your life?” So many what? You figure it out.) That said, I was stoked that the Bolsa owners and chef/co-owner Tim Byres took over Cliff Cafe — a decent hotel restaurant at The Belmont — and reimagined it as a frou frou smokehouse. So, far I’ve been loving the meats (sweet paprika and fennel seed sausage = savory goodness) and breakfast (my new favorite home for biscuits and gravy) at Smoke. But the EB&D Loaded Up and Truckin’ burger is almost as ridiculous as its name: Burgundy beef (so far, so good) topped with bacon, a farm egg fritter, sharp cheddar, onion, tomato, and lettuce all on a griddled honey bun. Two bites into it, my hands were dripping with meat juices and egg yolk, my jaw hurt, and I admitted defeat. It was simply too much of everything. Dissecting the burger, I appreciated the well seasoned beef patty cooked a perfect medium as well as the lightly fried poached egg. But bacon on a burger needs to be crisp. This was thick cut and, alas, flabby. For $16, it was an orgy of competing tastes and textures my mouth couldn’t appreciate. Nor do I appreciate this burger trend of piling everything between two buns, charging almost $20 for it, and declaring it “gourmet.” No. Gourmet is a burger where I can actually taste and savor the beef. So far, I really like Smoke. But this burger bugged me. Am I alone on this issue, SideDishers?

You will have read elsewhere here about the fabulous five-course meal the SideDish Supper Club enjoyed at Nonna. As luck would have it, they also served some wine! In fact, you could choose to drink wine at two quality levels for the duration of the meal. The lower level was called Borghese. I think that must be Italian for trailer park. Italian is such a beautiful language that they had no qualms allowing the opera Aida to be written by a guy named Joe Green. The upper level was termed Alto-Borghese, which I think means Fru-Fru in Italian. I went with the Borghese level, reflecting my social status, and my date went with the Alto-Borghese, thereby allowing us to swap and try all the wines.

There wasn’t a single dog among them but a couple stood out as being of exceptional quality. First, with the antipasti we had a sparkling Rosato, 2004 Contadi Castaldi Franciacorta Rosato. Putting this name through the Italian-Label-to-English-Parser the producer is Contadi Castaldi. The area of production is Franciacorta (in the Province of Brescia in the Region of Lombardy) and the wine is a rosato (pink/rosy in color).

Consider this as a substitute for Brut champagne or California sparkling wine. It paired well with all of the antipasti, which goes some way towards illustrating its diversity. The matching included salumi, bitter greens, pesto, potato, and the ethereal baked zucchini blossom stuffed with goat milk ricotta.

The second exceptional wine was 2003 Sassetti Brunello di Montalcino. This time the parser tells us that the 2003 wine is made by a producer named Sassetti, from grapes grown entirely within the designated wine growing area (DOCG) of Montalcino (defined as encompassing the town of Montalcino and surrounding agricultural areas), and it conforms with the regulatory body’s rules to be called a Brunello. These regulations are fairly involved but stipulate that the wine is made 100% from the Sangiovese Grosso grape and aged at least two years and four months before release. The main result is that you should expect any Brunello you buy to be a wine of complexity and age worthiness. The Sassetti fit this bill to a tee. It was tannic enough to last another decade and yet the tannins are sufficiently supple to drink this wine now. We sipped it with the arista of Berkshire pork but it would also pair well with steak (which would cut the tannins with its fat), prime rib, or lamb. Open it an hour early and aerate it to bring out the flavors.

Refer to the menu for the names of the other wines we tasted. All of which are worth seeking out. Thanks to Alfonso Cevola for unearthing such an intriguing selection.

“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.

Bad picture of a bad Spicy Dog.

On September 3rd, I asked you guys an innocent question: What’s for lunch? I was jonsing for a hot dog. You all chimed in with suggestions and I headed out to try a few. First stop was Dog Stop. Then came Eddie’s Deli, Zinsky’s Delicatessen, and Wild About Harry’s. I ate two dogs in each place and even after eight, I was still happy to look for more.

Yesterday I drove to Main Street in old Frisco to try the dogs at Double Dip Frozen Custard. The sign our front claims: “Double Dip Famous Dogs. Large, Lean All-Beef Hot Dogs on a Wheat Bun!” The list of selections is rated by the number of napkins it takes to eat each dog. You’ll need two for the Spicy Dog with green chili relish and honey dill mustard. It takes at least three to handle the Chili Dog made with “Texas-style chili.” Four napkins will get you through their Super Dog “piled high with green chili relish, Texas-style chili, and chopped onions.”

What they desperately need on the menu are barf bags.

Bad picture of a bad Chili Dog.

I could have filled two after consuming only half of my Spicy Dog, a stone cold wiener “cooked” on one of those cheesy rotating hot dog racks. It was topped with cold, runny sweet green chili relish that ran down my arm and pooled in the cuffs of my white shirt. To make the dog even more intolerable, there was the mound of unmelted grated cheese covering the whole mess. My “I’ll-Eat-Anything” friend who subbed for Evan, who was busy living baseball rainout hell, was equally disgusted with his Chili Dog. I had to ask questions.

“What kind of hot dogs do you use?” I asked one of the chirpy young girls working the stand. None of them had a clue. “Can you look at a package and tell me?” I pushed. “Oh, I think they are Farmstead or Frank or something like that,” muttered one. “What about the chili,” I asked. “Oh, we just heat it up,” said another.

So here is the deal: they call it Double Dip Custard for a reason. They have zillions of frozen custard options such as shakes, caliches (“like a blizzard”), sundaes, splits, topping, nuts, and flavors. They are dog friendly and kid friendly, just not hot dog friendly. I have spent the last 24 hours sipping broth, drinking water, and eating Wheat Thins.

My kind of dog, Chicago Dog.

She Said: Wild About Harry’s is insanely busy mainly because owner Harry Coley is always at the front door and greeting customers by name. That makes kids feel special and parents feel self-important and happy. Who, other than me and Leslie Brenner, doesn’t like to be recognized? I sashayed to and fro in front of the clueless Mr. Coley today just like all of the other middle aged customers looking for a good Chicago dog and some pistachio custard. I felt a little slighted by the fact that I didn’t get a greeting from Harry, an (in)action that caused a pang of guilt in my sagging gut: “Oh my god, I forgot to have children!”

Here’s the deal: I like my dogs cooked on a grill or griddle. At Harry’s, they are steamed. The dogs are Vienna Beef and come with the same poppy seed bun that Vienna supplies to all of their customers. Therefore, the dog-to-dough ratio is perfect. The Chicago dog at WAH is good but the cold chopped tomatoes, a long pickle slice, neon relish, and sport peppers bring the overall temperature of the total package down too fast. I do not like the contrast of cold tomatoes and a momentarily hot hot dog. The Chicago dog alone is $4.49; the value menu ($6.79) is a real deal—for an extra $2.30, I got a refillable drink and a side of cole slaw. Evan went with the regular dog and although I didn’t taste it, the dog was the same as mine and it was covered with neon relish and mustard. I frequent Wild About Harry’s because it is the closest dog to my office. And yes, I’ve eaten many an Angry Dog dog and will go again next week so I can wrap up this series. Unless I’m missing another obvious contender. Evan?

The regular dog.

He said: Nancy, why are you stealing all my lines. “Dog-to-dough” ratio? I can’t believe you took that from me. And after all the reporting I did to find out that Vienna does indeed provide buns perfectly matched to the dog size. Lot of thanks, I get for that. I’m with ya, babe, on the steaming. I kind of lost my appetite when the nice lady at the counter said they steam their dogs. Come to think of it, though, I believe Eddie’s steamed his, too. My problem with the steaming is the dog becomes too soft or too rubbery. I want a hint of crackle or crunch when I bite into the dog. That’s why I’m a flat grill or charcoal kind of guy. Thing is, the Vienna beef is so tasty, that I’ll put up with the fact that the dog isn’t quite as snappy as I’d like, that I never will get the neon relish thing and that I’d still prefer a spicy mustard over something insanely yellow. The Vienna folks make a fine dog and Coley serves them up with some interesting twists. And we didn’t even get to the pistachio custard. I looked at Nancy three-quarters of the way through the dog and said: “What do you think the chances are that I leave here without a pistachio custard?” She couldn’t even argue. And then I had to let her lick my cone (that’s not a euphemism). This time, I think the tears in her eyes were from pure bliss.

The real test, though, will come at Angry Dog. Can I keep my hands off the best cheeseburger in town (my opinion) long enough to chow down on an Angry Dog?

She Said Back: First of all, I told you I was stealing your line. Second of all, I had no tears from “pure bliss.” Eddie’s was cooked on a griddle. And finally, I would rather die from mothball inhalation than even talk about your cone.

Makeshift Maxwell Street Polish at Zinsky's.

We present another She said/he said hot dog review, starring Nancy Nichols and Evan Grant.

SHE SAID: I asked InsideCorner’s Evan Grant to go with me to taste hot dogs because he likes hot dogs as much as I do. And Evan and I usually agree on food. However, what we don’t agree on is what constitutes a good hot dog joint. When I started my quest for a hot dog, I set out to find little independent shops that sold mostly only hot dogs. Then I made the mistake of asking Evan to join me in my search. He’s a deli-lover and he likes restaurants with his hot dogs. He wants tables and side dishes and waitresses.

After we hit Eddie’s Deli, Evan insisted that we go to Zisky’s Delicatessen in Preston Royal.  “It’s not a hot dog place,” I argued. “It’s a restaurant that serves a bunch of stuff and offers hot dogs.” Evan was his usual stubborn self. “Nancy, if you want to taste the best hot dog you have to include hot dogs in restaurants,” he sneered. “Besides I’ve been to Zinsky’s and their dogs are great.”

So we went to Zinsky’s where the hot dogs are great. Fancy, but great. Plus, for almost the same price as Eddie’s, you get table service, one side dish, and no mothball smell. The closest match to my beloved Maxwell Street Polish that I could create at Zinsky’s was the quarter pound Boar’s Head Polish sausage covered with fried onion strings. Evan got The Blue Dog—just a long skinny all-beef frank tucked into a cozy bun. My Polish dog, a tweaked version of  the “Butch’s Jersey Dog,” on the Zinsky’s menu was spicy and so moist, that juice squirted across the table after each bite. Which could be embarrassing if you were on a first date, but Evan and I were on our one-millionth dining experience together. I love the bun, but it’s too much bread-to-dog ratio.

Evan's favorite dog at Zinsky's.

However, like the mothball smell of Eddies, our experience at Zinsky’s was marred by inexcusably poor service: wrong drinks delivered, matz0h ball soup came without matz0h balls, and the kitchen runner served an unordered knockwurst and fries. After we’d sent things back and asked for a Coke for a second time, she returned with our order and basically dropped it on the table and turned away. All huffy. Evan likes that kinda of drama with his dogs. I’m moving on to another indie. Next.

HE SAID: I’ve had two dog experiences at Zinsky’s, one fabulous, one not so good. The first time I had a dog, I just ordered it and waited. Came out perfectly. The regular hot dog is a little bit tiny for the pain au lait bun – the buns are made for a bigger weiner, like a Knockwurst or a Brat or a Polish. The dog however tasted magnificent, as good as a Hebrew National or Nathan’s Dog (sorry, guys and gals, I’m a Kosher dog guy). Good non-neon relish on the side and spicy brown mustard on the side. Now, that’s a frankfurter. The second time, as Nancy said, was disappointing. I asked for the dog to be a little well done, to get a little of blackening to the skin. As you can tell by the picture, that’s what I got. But I also think it made my weiner suffer from shrinkage. The dog looked smaller, the bun bigger and all that taste got lost a little bit in the fluffy bun. Yes, the service was a little mixed up. When Zinsky’s gets slammed, they seem to be still feeling their way through things. The runner, I believe, simply set down the original plates one booth too far up. When I discreetly checked behind us a few minutes later, two ladies were having a knockwurst and chicken noodle soup – exactly what had been brought to our table.

I know Nancy wants to find the perfect hot dog stand. I just don’t think many of those exist outside Coney Island anymore. You want a dog, you are going to have to find it on the menu at a deli or a kid-friendly restaurant. That’s why I ordered her to go to Zinsky’s and why, after the retina-burning Eddie’s experience, Nancy had no choice, but with tears in her eyes, to say “OK, go to Zinsky’s.”

Part of the problem in this whole excursion is the limited number of weiners out there. You are most likley to get a Vienna Beef or Hebrew National dog. I don’t know if anybody is serving anything else in a commercial establishment these days. That’s why I thought the Zinsky’s dog, with a different maker, might be a different experience.

Next for me: Wild About Harry’s. I’ve had the custard many times, but never actually sampled one of the dogs. Anybody got any feelings on Harry Coley’s dogs? I think they are still using Vienna, are they not? A quick look at the web site did not list what kind of hot dog they are using. Are Harry’s dogs worth our next hot dog run? Or is there somewhere else you would send us? Although, Nancy did look at me after eating those two polish sausages on Saturday, and said: “I think this will cure my craving for a while.” Tears were still streaming down her eyes. Not sure, if it was from the mothball-scented floor cleaner or her Dog Day disappointment.

Braving the naphthalene and paradichlorobenzene odor, we noticed that the guy who works the counter was mumbling to himself as he waited for us to make our selection from their short list: Chicago Hot Dog, Texas Hot Dog, Eddie Dog, Eddie Chili Dog, Maxwell Street Polish, and Polish Sausage. I covered my nose and ordered: A Maxwell Street Polish for me, a regular dog for Evan, who, at this point, was at a table outside with his head between his knees gasping for air. I waited for the dogs, which, in my checkbook, were kinda pricey $5.50 and $4.50 respectively. There was only one other customer in the tiny store and no sign of any moths, which I guess is a good thing. But by the time our order was ready, the overwhelming stench had burned my nasal passages.

Classic hot dog.

It was an unfortunate experience because, even with the putrid smell, the dogs were terrific. The Polish sausage was griddled and covered with hot sautéed onions and spicy sport peppers. Evan’s regular dog was all beef Vienna and couched in the same warm poppy seed bun with neon green relish (no peppers or celery salt).

As we made our way home, I called the store and asked them about the smell and the guy said, “Oh it must be the stuff I use to clean the floors with. I guess I’d better go open the door.” So if you go to Eddie’s and see the door open, go inside. Otherwise, call ahead and place your order and dash in. For, despite the stinky setting, the dogs are fantastic.  5844 Abrams Rd. @ Northwest Highway. 214-692-5844.

Maxwell Street Polish

UPDATE FROM EVAN: Nancy may be using a tad bit of writer’s license here. I believe it was her who was outside, head crouched between legs. But you get the point, we were so overwhelmed by the fumes that our brains were as fried as the onions. The mothball smell was so powerful you could smell it from 10 feet away when a customer exiting the place opened the door. After 10 minutes, my eyes felt like I had either left them open while swimming the length of an Olympic pool or I had been in a very smoky room for several hours. Either way, not a really good side dish to go with the hot dogs. My dog was good, the bun exceptional, but my appetite really was ruined for the rest of the day.

And I ask this: Nancy makes this whole deal about wanting a hot dog and then she orders a Polish. What’s up with that?

Texas dog.

I picked up a Texas Dog, a soft poppy seed bun with a Vienna Beef dog topped with yellow mustard, neon green relish, sliced jalapenos, and celery salt. Can’t say that I cared too much for the relish and jalapenos together especially since they were both refrigerator cold and caused the whole sandwich to cool down too fast.

Maxwell Street Polish Special.

The Maxwell Street Dog was terrific. A Polish dog cooked on the griddle, nestled in a yellow mustard covered poppy seed bun, and covered with crunchy grilled onions and a long slice of dill pickle. Next time I’ll substitute sport peppers. This place is a bargain: $5.07 for two dogs and one drink.

[UPDATE: Stephan Pyles.]

Next girl up is Central 214’s Blythe Beck. She will star in The Naughty Kitchen With Chef Blythe Beck on Oxygen. I’ve never really understood the naughty kitchen concept. So I checked the shows website. It says:

Blythe Beck, the fiery young chef and star of Oxygen’s upcoming series The Naughty Kitchen With Chef Blythe Beck, shows off her distinctive sexy American cuisine, her cutting edge Dallas restaurant, Central 214, and her loud and flamboyant staff. The Naughty Kitchen With Chef Blythe Beck is certain to cook up the drama both in and out of the kitchen. Oxygen follows executive chef Blythe Beck, a 29-year old Texas native, who is plus-sized in stature and personality, and her colorful crew at Central 214, inside and outside the kitchen as they interact with the Dallas elite and the local university students.

Monday night I went to Central 214 to check it out and write a mini-review. Sadly, I didn’t see waitresses in garter belts or waiters wearing thongs, but I did find the Door Whores. And calories. Lots of calories. What is sexy about calories? I guess we will find out when the show starts on September 22nd. Somebody tell me this is a good thing.

[UPDATE: Craft, Capital Grille, Fearing's, Pappas Bros Steakhouse.]