A few years ago, when the whole “elevated comfort food” movement really started to take shape, it seemed like every restaurant in the city was creating their own version of the fancy-fied mac-and-cheese.  I must have tried them all. Various iterations typically called for elegant or exotic cheeses or expensive luxury proteins, each dish doing its best to push as far as possible from the childhood version, that slop in a blue box.  Many dishes were highly successful, indeed, many restaurants began to claim this as their signature dish.  Now that the novelty of a $15 mac-and-cheese has begun to wear off, there are really only a small handful that, to me, have weathered the trend and continue to be a completely crave-able dish, and Victor Tango’s version, the Crab, Mac and Jack Gratin, still sits on top of my list.

Victor Tango’s menu has made some rearrangements over the years.  They have seemingly always been well-known for their version of chicken and waffles.  But another dish that has not budged since their humble beginnings is their exquisite Crab, Mac, and Jack Gratin.  This dish is a triumph in carbs and fats.  The nutrition label on this thing would likely give most of us a little angina, but nothing good in life comes without a little pain.  Plus, Paula Deen’s got some pills you can take to make you feel aaaaaall better (insert Southern drawl).

Tango’s version of mac-and-cheese incorporates juicy lumps of succulent crab, zesty jack cheese, and perfectly al dente macaroni.  The richness of the cheese with the buttery crab are the ideal combination for and pasta dish, however, it doesn’t stop there…chopped pancetta joins the party for a dish that is simply unstoppable. The entire concoction is completely indulgent, but has been an irresistible pleasure of mine for years.  Plus, it pairs perfectly with chicken and waffles, and you know those are on everyone’s table.

Jump.

Fried Okra at Park

We started with the fried okra. I chose this for the most nefarious motives. Okra is difficult for chefs. It is too easy for the cooked results to appear like pea pods in frog spawn, or the results of a pathology practical at Southwestern Medical Center. My ploy didn’t work at Park. Each whole pod was crisply fried with a sweet batter clinging to the exterior and the interior a tart and fibrous center. I experimented with eating pods either straight, or drizzled with lemon. I think both worked.

Shrimp at Park

Our other starter was the shrimp and avocado which we spread onto crackers. This is a bit like a ceviche that you lift up. I could sit in front of the television for hours eating this and swigging Albariño. It is that tasty.

Seared Salmon at Park

On to the mains: The seared salmon with avocado was as good as it looks in the picture. The sear was deep and absolutely perfect and the whole taken off the heat nice and early, keeping the inside fleshy.

For my main course I thought I would continue my path of nefariousness. That meant choosing chicken which, across town, is either dry (the bad experience). Or tasteless (the most common experience). Or good (unusual – and likely found in an Asian restaurant where sauce is invariably part of the recipe). However, before I tried this test at Park, I spied an even better candidate on the menu: plaice. Plaice is a fish that makes pollock

Plaice at Park

look interesting, or tilapia look tasty. At Park the plaice was breaded and fried and I think they did about as well as one could. But it was still plaice. I am sure that Dickey can come up with a better neuro-protein.

We skipped desert. However, a few words on the non-food aspects of Park. First, the valet parking: The company that runs it appears to be staffed by guys who were thrown out of the Albanian mafia for human rights violations. They expect to be paid $5 up front, and they are pushy about it. I know they are a legally separate entity from Park but they are the first link in the chain of hospitality of a night out, and they put me in the wrong mood to appreciate the work involved in the restaurant. Park: get one of the other valet companies around town.

Wretched Wine Glass at Park

Next, the wine glasses: We learned wine glasses must be stemmed (to prevent warming the wine as you hold the glass); thin, for a pleasant tactile mouth feel; and, most crucially, the right shape to funnel the wine’s aromas. Park’s molded, stem-less tumblers fail on all three counts. The wine list is currently being reworked (that is why I am not commenting on it) so, guys, use the opportunity to have a tumbler-smashing party this week. These tumblers are so bad you might as well cut costs further by not serving wine at all.

Last, smoke wafts inside from the patio. Move the smokers up to the roof where the bees are. They won’t survive the stings, but smoking deaths will fall.

So if you want to appreciate everything at Park, be a chain-smoking Albanian British teetotaler with a penchant for good food. For myself, the food is the most important thing, and for that I will surely go back.

Ed. note: apologies to all of my Albanian friends.

So I ask you, dear Dishers. How do you handle tipping valet?

UPDATE: Natsumi has a space in Shed 2 at the Dallas Farmers Market. If you haven’t been to the newly remodeled Shed 2 recently, you must go.

I was shocked to open the door of the location in Preston Forest–the room was full of women. The only men in the space were behind the counter. The menu consists of soups, salads, sandwiches, a quiche of the day, and baked goods. (The Richardson location serves afternoon tea from 3:30-5:30 p.m.) The Chocolate Angel feels a lot like Celebrity Bakery except when you are stand over the cookie case waiting to order, you don’t faint from sticker shock: lemon bars are $1.00, Neiman-Marcus recipe chocolate chip cookies are 85 cents, and cupcakes are $2.75.

JC and I were jonsing for cheese and cheese we did find. She went for the four-cheese sandwich sprinkled with garlic salt and grilled between two thin slices of sourdough. We were so hungry we forgot to ask which four cheeses were melted together. I went for the “Some Like it Hot” sandwich—a thick layer of pimento cheese tossed with toasted pecans, chopped jalapenos, and chunks of applewood-smoked bacon served with a side of thick homemade strawberry jam and a tossed green salad and a ramekin of pasta salad. It was too much for one to eat, but I managed. The whole plate is only $7.29. I was disappointed to find the cheese still cold and the jalapeno slices too few and far between. If you order it, ask for extra peppers and make sure they grill it until the cheese bubbles over the side.

Stuffed, we didn’t eat dessert, but we brought a thick slice of strawberry cake and a thicker slice of dark chocolate cake back to the office. I took a bite of each one and spit both of them back into my napkin. The texture of the cake is spongy and felt rubbery against the roof of my mouth. The thin layer of chocolate icing was almost pure confectioners’ sugar flavored with a hint of bitter chocolate. One office mate described it as tasting like “the inside of an old lady’s house.” Being an old lady, I strongly disagree with her.

The dining room was packed with young, old, big, and little ladies. They all seemed wildly happy. I looked at some of the other sandwiches and the smoked turkey on orange-cranberry bread caught my eye. I’d go back if only to get that pimento cheese sandwich grilled properly.

Jim Richardson is a brave man. In the face of the worst recession since The Flintstones and manifest oversupply in the wine industry, the man has opened a winery in California. And while most wineries are named after romantic place names, cute critters, or the founder, he decided to name his after where he hails from in Dallas. Hence, Oak Cliff Cellars was born. You don’t borrow from a bank for this sort of thing and “JR” (as he goes by) is not too big to fail, so that rules out the taxpayer. Rather, you invest your own money, and maybe that of some close investors who you beat in a card game. In the time-honored tradition of start-ups you rent space in the premises of a larger, more established, producer and hire an experienced consulting winemaker. After selecting and fermenting grapes, you spend 18 months dealing with problems while your precious fist vintage ages. Eventually, the miracle of oak-aging and a newfound belief in prayer brings everything together and you show your new baby to the world.

That is what JR did on Wednesday night at Lavendou. Big jammy jump here.

It was actually two weeks ahead of the formal release party, which will be in California, and something of a big shindig. Wednesday’s affair was low-key, accompanied by hors d’oeuvres prepared by the restaurant. On to the wines:

2008 Oak Cliff Cellars Chardonnay, Napa Valley, California ($24)
Fermented and aged entirely in stainless steel, this wine is in the idiom of the unoaked Chardonnays currently popular on restaurant wine lists. Note, however, that you won’t confuse this with an old-world Chardonnay – the fruit flavors are just too profuse. As a result of the absence of oak the nose is distinctly fruity, reminding me of wine gums. In the mouth, there is very full fruitiness of melon and a long pleasant finish. This wine does not need food (it would be great by the pool on hot days) but worked well with the Petit Basque Cheese on Crostini and the Cantaloupe Melon with Prosciutto prepared by the restaurant. 86/100

2007 Oak Cliff Cellars Petite Sirah, Napa Valley, California ($42)
A huge nose of dark fruit sits atop an inky monster of a wine with a host of subtle scent facets. In the mouth, the wine exhibits medium fruit intensity. Some fairly hard tannins give it backbone but prevent one describing this wine with terms such as ‘lush’. Medium length of finish. I would serve this with red meat. It is pleasant now but best if kept 3-5 years. A creditable first effort. 85/100.

Production is miniscule (a few hundred cases) and will stay small even with plans for more grape varieties in the near future. Availability is via the web site.
.

Wolfish in Gloucester, Mass on Tuesday.

Tuesday, Jim “Sevy” Severson and I met Scott Swicker, a fisherman in Gloucester, Mass. His boat, the Aaron and Alexa, was full of fish he’d just pulled in from the Georges Bank region of the Gulf of Maine. One species was the wolfish (wolf fish, wolffish, ocean cat, lupe de mer). Sevy likes wolfish—the unsightly sucker feeds on clams and lobsters and once you get past his ugly mug, the meat is, like me, sweet and flaky. Sevy decided to feature the wolfish as a special on Thursday at Sevy’s Grill.

We watched as the boat was unloaded and the catch was weighed and processed through the Steve Connolly Seafood Company in Gloucester, MA. The next morning we were in Connolly’s packing plant in Boston when the wolfish arrived. Sevy was standing over the box as his order was packed. We followed the box out to the dock where it was loaded into a refrigerated truck and whisked away to the airport. I hopped on another flight and got back in time to head over to Sevy’s where chef Michael “Buzzy” Zeve was waiting with the wolfish in a pan.

Wolfish on the plate Thursday in Dallas.

By 8:00 p.m. last night, our table of six was feasting on wolfish. It’s not gorgeous on the plate either, but the meaty fish is simply prepared and a delight. Here is how Buzzy cooked it:

I season with sea salt and course brown pepper and pan sear it in olive oil on the presentation side for about a minute and a half. Then I flip it over and finish it off in the oven for about 5 minutes. I served it on top of orzo folded with a puree of basil and reduced cream. I surround it with a roasted red pepper beurre blanc. It’s all pretty straightforward.

The preparation and presentation may be simple and straightforward, but how the fish gets from the ocean to your plate in Dallas is quite the opposite. And despite being landlocked, Dallas is a market that receives some of the freshest seafood in the country. Thanks to our central location, fresh fish from the Gulf of Maine hits Dallas well before the west coast.

I have a question about valet parking. We go out to lunch/ dinner about five times a week and do not mind valet parking when it is needed. But what if it is not needed at all? I cannot tell you how many times I drive up to an empty parking lot only to be stopped by a valet. An example: I went to get some coffee at Starbucks on Greenville next to Gloria’s. It was 3pm and there was nothing but an empty parking lot and a valet. I drove past the valet and parked the car myself. The valet walked up to me and asked where I was going. I told him I was just getting a cup of coffee and that I could park the car myself. I thought that would be the end of it but then he asked if I planned to “sit down and drink my coffee”. Like that made a difference. My question is what rights do these guys have? If I want to park my car myself do they have the right to tow it? Also, what is the normal tip for these guys? Usually the parking is free but, of course, you should tip. I have been tipping $5 each time.

Yow. Zah. You sure do ask a lot of questions for a dude from New Jersey. First of all, thank you for dining out five times a week. You rock. Secondly, will you tip me $5 if I answer your question? I’d like the Fightin’ Foodies of the Dish Nation to help this guy, but I want you all to know that Obama will fix this too. On your mark, get set…