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Articles about What The Pho?

Pouting Over Poutine

Poutine from the Greenhouse Tavern, Cleveland OH (photo from Columbus Underground @ www.columbusunderground.com)

A couple of weeks ago I gushed about my love for the burgers at Kenny’s Burger Joint.  One of our Sidedishers, “Kirk,” commented that they offered “the closest facsimile of poutine in the DFW area.”  When I heard this, it was not long until I found my way back to sample the Kenny’s version.  As you likely know, “poutine” is a classic Canadian dish, traditionally composed of crispy French fries, cheese curds, and a brown gravy.  The most successful variations of poutine are able to serve the fries thick and crisp, the cheese curd soft but not so completely melted that they lose all their texture, and the gravy incorporated into each bite, but not so much as to turn the whole thing into a soup or make the fries overly soggy.  However, this dish is incredibly hard to find in Dallas.  I don’t understand why this is so.  Perhaps it’s our distance from our neighbors to the North? Perhaps there are not enough Canadians here in the Lone Star State?  It really is a travesty.

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Anthony Bourdain Kicks Some Serious Sass in Dallas

Anthony Bourdain on stage at the Majestic Theater in Dallas. (photo by Elizabeth Lavin)

Last night, Anthony Bourdain fans packed the Majestic Theater. Baseball be damned, the worshipers of All-Things-Anthony showed up to lay themselves at the cowboy-booted feet of their hero.

Tony walked onto the stage at 8:10 and greeted the audience: “I am a whore. I am in every way compromised, jaded, bought and paid for, including my nice f—ing jacket.”

For the next hour and 45 minutes, the crowd hung on his every word. He was loose, casual, at ease, good-natured, straight forward, no bull. He was exactly the guy you see on TV, except, in person, you could see just how fine he wears boot-cut jeans.

After the show, we got to hang out with Tony and watch him sign books and greet his fans. Hundreds of folks bought books and stood in line to get his autograph. He walked into the VIP room and he very calmly said, “Look, I’m here and I’m not leaving until every book is signed, every picture is taken. I’m not in a hurry, so grab some food, have a drink, relax.”

I plan to write a longer report, but my day job calls. In the meantime, I’ll post the pictures that Tony most graciously allowed our photographer, Elizabeth Lavin, to shoot. Oh, and John “Jimmy Sears” Tesar was there. I mean everywhere. If you notice him in every shot, it is because he tried to get in every shot. At one point I thought he was going to start signing copies of Bourdain’s Medium Raw. He could have. That’s how he serves his burgers.

On to the show.

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John Tesar Milks a Cow and Wins $10,000 on Extreme Chef

Chef John Tesar sheds his doucheyness and becomes Extreme Chef winner. He can run 10 miles and cook in a corn field.

Last night John Tesar played a 53-year old geezer chef on a thrilling episode of Food Network’s Extreme Chef. He faced two younger chefs: Joe, a douchey New York dude who was once a private chef for Donald Trump; and Greg, a Portland chef who couldn’t cut it in medical school so he quit and went to the CIA.

Tesar was confident from the start. “I run 10 miles a day,” Tesar gloated. After that, he works all day and night. The competition took place on a 60-acre farm in Malibu Canyon and the premise had the chefs running all over the place to source ingredients.

HEARTY BREAKFAST was the segment. To obtain eggs, the chefs had to conquer a “crop-stical course” made of bales of hay formed into various tunnels and towers. Tesar, a virtual Jack LaLane, was first to the eggs (he picked duck!) and he won the first competition soundly with his ginger and duck egg French toast. (I think there was a fruit salad and some whiskey involved, but I can’t read my notes, and I refuse to rerun the show.) It only matters that when the Simon Cowell wannabe (and lookalike) host announced Tesar as the winner, Tesar took a modest Zen-like bow. Tesar is now the master of “the unconventional use of an egg.”

No, it’s not over. There are still 45 minutes left in the show. Here we go.

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Wondering What Happened at Pho Colonial Downtown Yesterday? A Chronlogical Account (and UPDATE from the Owner).

Let me open  by saying that I love Pho Colonial’s pho. I love it so much that I was willing to walk six blocks downtown in 104-degree heat yesterday to get some on opening day. But, at the risk of sounding … oh screw it, I don’t care…the opening day their Downtown location yesterday felt like being inexorably stuck in a Hanoi traffic jam. Here’s how it went down:

Noon-ish—Krista, Laura, and I walked in a little after noon. The dining room was full (with two or three vacant tables) and there were seven people in line in front of us. A handful of people waited against the front window. Not bad. We made it to the counter in 5-10 minutes, placed our orders for take-out pho, rice, spring rolls, and bubble tea, received out numbers and proceeded to the dining room to wait. I overheard a young woman saying to the expediter that she’d been waiting for 45 minutes and she needed to get back to work. I chose to ignore it. I’d been in the day before for the media opening and the food was so good that, just 24 hours later, was Jonesing for more pho.

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What the Pho? It’s the Summer of Hot Noodles.

I want to make fun of the name; I really do.

Clearly this summer’s steamy temps (my car’s external temperature gauge registered 122 degrees yesterday) are not hindering our love of hot soups, more specifically Vietnamese pho (pronounced sort of like “fuh” but with a pitch rise at the end). A while back I attended a tasting at Pho Colonial, which looks like its finally ready to open doors on its second location, this one downtown next to the Pressbox in the base of the Wilson building. And the list keeps growing. A quick search of our directory turned up Pho Huy in Richardson, Pho Bang in Garland, La Me on Walnut, and Tu Hai in Fort Worth. Count multi-ethnic noodle houses, such as Noodle Wave off Spring Valley Road and the list gets even longer.

But it was the opening of Pho is for Lovers (on the corner Greenville and, yes, Lovers) that finally convinced me that we’re in the midst of a Pho-king frenzy.

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