September 29, 2009

Sneak peek at Anvil's fall cocktail menu

"They'll be drinking this 100 years from now," I told Bobby Heugel as I sipped an Autumn Paloma from Anvil's fall cocktail menu, which debuts this Thursday.

Alison Cook Instant classic: Old Tom Gin, Bianco Vermouth, House Lavender-Vanilla Bitters.

"Probably not," Heugel said with a wry shrug. "Not unless they'll go to the trouble of using that many hand-made ingredients."

I saw his point. The Autumn Paloma I found so swoon-worthy features Anvil-made grapefruit beer as a tart backdrop for tequila and a flowery touch of St. Germain elderflower liqueur. It's right in tune with our cool-weather grapefruit season in Texas. Lime and Fee Brothers barrel-aged bitters chime in, but it's Heugel's brilliant addition of a salt-infused rum tincture that gives the Autumn Paloma its savory, distinctive bite. Instead of taking the easy way out and salting the rim of the glass, Heugel made the salt part of the cocktail's DNA.

Alison Cook A boy and his dehydrator: Anvil's Bobby Heugel with fall harvest of dehyrated Campari crystals.

That's the kind of fresh thinking that marks Anvil's exciting new cocktail list. Heugel and his inventive crew have been busy dreaming up such garnishes as dehydrated Campari crystals, which glitter with soft red points of light from a big gallon jar.

The cystals are destined for the final, sparkling touch on a creamy Campari Alexander, all chocolate-tinged velvet from Creme de Cacao, with a subterranean tinge of Campari bitterness to keep things interesting. It's an Alexander for grownups. And it looks like a holiday.

Some of the new cocktails didn't even have names yet when I previewed them Sunday night. I loved the classic elegance and shimmer of botanicals in Old Tom Gin, Bianco Vermouth and House Lavender-Vanilla Bitters with a lemon twist; and I loved Heugel's pride in the young bartender who came up with the cocktail. Aside from Heugel's Autumn Paloma, the list is very much a collaboration.

Alison Cook The Trifecta: Blackstrap rum, Pimms & Bianco Vermouth. All that's missing is the planned donut hole garnish

The exotic cumin-and-cardamom-infused bourbon drink that Anvil's Chris Frankel has been working on shows up with blackberry Creme de Mure, Curacao and a hit of Banyuls vinegar that balances the sweetness. For the Trifecta cocktail of Blackstrap Rum, Pimms and Bianco Vermouth--darkly translucent and complex--Heugel commissioned a donut-hole garnish from Textile Pastry chef Plinio Sandalio.

Alison Cook Anvil's BobbyHeugel and his Autumn Paloma cocktail, in which grapefruit meets tincture of salt-infused rum.

The use of Allspice Dram (known as "Pimento Dram" in classic cocktails) gives a dusky-sweet autumnal tone to a light-on-its feet mixture of Rye, Tempranillo syrup and lime over lots of crushed ice. A Coffee Capirinha--a collaboration with David Buehrer of Tuscany Premium Coffees--shows up on the roster, too, along with an intriguing Philadelphia Fish House Punch drawn from an 1864 recipe by Jerry Thomas, the famous 19th-century mixologist.

Alison Cook Rye, Allspice Dram, Tempranillo syurp & lime over crushed ice

Anvil's food menu will be gussied up for fall, too. Are you ready for Campari Popcorn with olive oil, sea salt and some of those dehydrated Campari crystals? I thought so. Textile chef Dax McAnear will contribute his own version of heirloom hominy corn nuts; and Plinio Sandalio's donut holes will be available to order as well.

A queso of asadero cheese, green chiles, tequila and lime is on tap, along with more cheese and charcuterie choices. The bar may even begin serving raw Gulf Oysters when the season peaks as the weather turns colder.

Alison Cook Anvil's Campari Alexander with creme de cacao & dehydrated Campari crystals.

When I protested that oysters seem more suited to white wine or beer than cocktails, Heugel regarded me pityingly, then bombarded me with a whole litany of information about the joint history of oysters and mixed drinks.

Somehow I have the feeling that before Christmas rolls around, I will have consumed oysters with cocktails. And liked them.

Alison Cook Anvil's dehydrated Chartreuse crystals.

That's what I love about Anvil and the work that Heugel has started there. The cocktail landscape in Houston will never be the same, and neither will I. In the course of the year and a half I have been following Heugel's carefully crafted oeuvre, I've gone from a person who despaired of cocktails to someone who finds them deeply interesting, historically resonant and full of hope for the future.

Oh, and did I mention fun to drink? There's that, too.

(Anvil, 1424 Westheimer @ Windsor, 713-523-1622. Daily 5 p.m.-2 a.m.)

Posted by Alison Cook at 11:32 AM | Comments (3)
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September 10, 2009

First taste of Giacomo's Cibo e Vino

The line forms to the left at chef Lynette Hawkins' new Giacomo's, a self-serve, fast-casual Italian spot where it takes a visit or two to master the drill.

Alison Cook The self-serve line forms on the left at Giacomo's.

As I moved past the colorful array of Venetian cicchetti (small tapas-style courses) on opening day this week, I couldn't help myself: I just started pointing. I wanted the brilliant-hued marinated peppers and the sweet/sour cauliflower and the turkey-breast tonnato and oh, yes, better give me some of those spicy lamb meatballs, too.

When I took my zoomy plastic tray to the cash register, the manager on duty looked at my selection with some consternation. She didn't quite know how to charge me, since I had broken protocol by asking for a plate rather than individual servings in little bowls. I hadn't even noticed the option of a $10 sampler plate comprised of four cold items. That's what I would have ordered if I hadn't gotten carried away.

The counter staff, as new at this as I was, hadn't had the heart to tell me I was doing it wrong.

Alison Cook Marinated peppers, turkey tonnato, cauliflower in saor & spicy lamb meatball cicchetti at Giacomo's.

Ordinarily individual meat selections like the meatballs, or the moist turkey in a creamy tuna sauce, cost $5 here; the marinated vegetables and salads are $4 each. It quickly adds up if you're not careful, especially once you throw in a glass of wine. But if you take a moment to think and to edit your choices, Giacomo's is easy to love.

Out of the 9 items I sampled, 7 were very good, one (the marinated mushrooms) was just okay, and one (the tortelli pasta stuffed with chard and goat cheese) was flat-out spectacular.

Alison Cook Tortelli with Swiss chard & goat cheese in sage butter, Giacomo's.

Ordering that $9 bowl of pasta packets was almost an afterthought. I was having such a good time relaxing with a friend in the middle of the afternoon--when Giacomo's remains open, bless its civilized heart--that I didn't want to leave. I really wasn't expecting to end up with one of the best pasta dishes in Houston.

That's what I got, though. The house-made ravioli wrappers were both tender and springy; the chard-and-goat-cheese stuffing just green-tasting and just pungent enough to captivate. And there was no more fresh sage butter than was needed to make the pasta packages glisten. Perfect.

Alison Cook Dining room at Giacomo's.

Of the cicchetti we tried, my favorite was the tender, assertively spiced lamb meatballs wafting cinnamon and what I suspect may have been a little cardamom as well. The meatballs also show up in a made-to-order orecchietti pasta dish, tossed with broccoli rabe, garlic and oil--a must-try on a return visit.

I particularly liked the briny caper-and-olive tang of the roasted cauliflower in saor, and the fresh simplicity of the marinated peppers. Marinated carrot chunks surprised with a note of cumin. A chicken thigh smothered in peppers was a neat small package of protein; I really liked being able to have a little of it rather than committing to a great, whomping entree.

Alison Cook Chicken with peppers, marinated carrots with cumin, marinated mushrooms at Giacomo's.

More and more these days, I find I want to eat the Giacomo's way, with an interesting array of sensibly sized portions rather than a formal, belt-busting meal. That's one of the things I like about Marco Wiles' Poscol, too. Both places seem right for the times, and for the current economy.

And I imagine Houston's vegetarians will find Giacomo's a boon. I love a restaurant that gives vegetables an honored place at the table.

Alison Cook Rachel Hecker's smile-worthy 3D mural at Giacomo's.

Agreeable food aside, it is cheering to sit in Giacomo's chic, neo-1950s style dining room, which was designed by architect Kathy Heard. The colors soothe; the three-dimensional trapezoid mural by Rachel Hecker amuses; and little design touches like the sculptural trays, pottery serving bowls and single tabletop flowers all make the experience knit together smartly.

It's gratifying to see Hawkins, who endeared herself to many Houston diners at the late La Mora, return to the scene in such style. Just remember not to lose your head as you make your way past her colorful dishes on your first visit.

(Giacomo's Cibo e Vino, 3215 Westheimer at Bammel Lane, 713-522-1934. Open Tuesday-Sunday 11: a.m.-10 p.m.)

Posted by Alison Cook at 03:59 PM | Comments (7)
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September 08, 2009

First taste of Tesar's Modern Steak & Seafood

"Our chef is one of the most famous chefs in the world," announced the server at Tesar's Modern Steak and Seafood in The Woodlands. He gestured earnestly toward the kitchen, where a slender, black-clad man in big black hornrims was expediting orders on the fifth day of the new restaurant's life.

Misha Govshteyn Crab with garlic foam, Tesar's.

The name John Tesar may not ring many bells in Houston. He's best known in Texas for bringing new life to the Rosewood Mansion on Turtle Creek in its post-Dean-Fearing incarnation. Bill Addison, then-critic at the Dallas Morning News, gave Tesar five stars and said that "the Mansion continues to be the paradigm of fine dining in Dallas."

Tesar left the Mansion in January and took over as chef at David Burke's Fishtail in New York, a stint that only lasted 2 months. Now the chef who was immortalized as the pseudonymous, hardliving "Jimmy Sears" in Anthony Bourdain's Kitchen Confidential is ensconced in a not-particularly glamorous venue in a northern Houston exurb, pushing steak, seafood and a raft of branded products at a concept that is clearly meant to be a prototype.

That's quite a narrative arc.

Misha Govshteyn Dining room, Tesar's.

Whether Tesar will be able to work his magic in Houston remains to be seen. Our pricy dinners veered from splendid to mediocre to amusing (in a good way). Three first courses were as good as anything in town, particularly Tesar's signature butter-poached King crab appetizer, which fairly sparkled in its garlic foam. Soft and downy and briny-sweet doesn't begin to do the $17 dish justice.

I was just as impressed by the archly named "Clippings" salad of local greens dressed in a brilliant combination of brown butter and "Emmental essence," a thin, cheese-infused broth that conferred a nutty pungence. The greens had great flavor without the use of any vinegar or acid, a neat, wine-friendly trick.

Misha Govshteyn Watermelon, heirloom tomato & feta salad, Tesar's.

Even that modern American chestnut, the watermelon and heirloom tomato salad, was all verve and delicacy here. Its rice-wine vinaigrette gave just the right bounce, the tomatoes were prime, the feta a perfectly calibrated accent. Fresh dill was the stealth ingredient that gave the salad personality.

While the first courses were fine dining all the way, entrees and sides faltered badly. Thin fillets of baby turbot were too pan-fried for their own good; the indelicate fish clashed with the lovely, fragile potato gnocchi, fava beans and buttery mustard-grain "caviar" with which they shared the plate.

Misha Govshteyn Grass-fed & corn-fed ribeye plate, Tesar's.

A side-by-side comparison tasting of "modern" ribeye (i.e. grassfed) with classic corn-fed ribeye was disappointing stuff, particularly in view of its $42 price tag. The thin piece of grassfed beef was cooked past the requested medium rare, was tough and gristly, and did not exactly jump with flavor, either. Nor was the thin slab of corn-fed beef a paragon of steakitude. I would be hesitant to order Tesar's side-by-side steak tastings again; it's an interesting idea, but a single, thicker steak might have come off better.

There's a whole lotta branding going on at Tesar's, from the Spicy Roasted Garlic Barbecue Sauce (R) with too much liquid smoke (one of a half-dozen sauce options you choose with your steak), to a too-sweet-and-cinnamony house ketchup that came with a trio of French fries. Tesar's caricature, hornrims and all, looms on all the bottles like a cartoon superhero.

Misha Govshteyn Tesar's Spicy Roasted Garlic (R) sauce, Tesar's.

Those fries? Served in gleaming silver containers and a paper cone, they'll be crucial to the enjoyment of the burger bar that adjoins the main dining room, and they were pretty darn good. I was at a loss to discern any wasabi in the wasabi fries, however. (The chile-rubbed and truffled versions were fine.)

I was startled that the appealing-sounding cauliflower brulee side was boring and tepid in its blanket of cream sauce. Maybe somebody forgot to do the crucial brulee-ing. A dish of wild mushrooms was pleasant but unmemorable.

Misha Govshteyn Nine ice cream & sorbet sampler at Tesar's.

Things picked up bigtime again with dessert. A platter that looked like a three-dimensional glass tic tac toe board arrived bearing nine different little scoops of house-made ice creams and sorbets, most of which were fun to taste. (The menu promised 12 flavors, which seemed a bit much. Must have been a misprint--like the unavailable beef-cheek ravioli, which our waiter said would not be served until the weather turned colder.)

Misha Govshteyn The multipart Munchie Platter dessert at Tesar's: caramel corn, mini donuts, rice krispie treats, cookies.

An upside-down pineapple tres leches flouted convention with its coarse-crumbed cornmeal cake base. And the outrageous Munchie Platter (which is like dessert for six people) made me laugh with its sackful of caramel corn, chocolate and salted peanut-butter cookies warm from the oven, old-fashioned rice crispie squares and baby doughnuts filled with tart raspberry jam.

That caramel corn came in a sack bearing a cartoon of "Stacy T," as in Mrs. John Tesar. [CORRECTION: it has been brought to my attention that Mrs. T is Tracy rather than Stacy. The applicable brand will be Sweet T's.] She's the dessert guru here, and--no surprise--she'll be starting a retail bakery nearby.

Where all this branding will lead is anybody's guess. I'll be curious to try Tesar's more casual burger and seafood raw bar end of the restaurant, and to dine on the front terrace when the weather cools down. That option seems more attractive than the dining room, with its deep, muddy reds and dark woods that are meant to look rich and moody, but wind up looking gloomy instead. I didn't find it much of an improvement on the upscale La Mesa and Taco Milagro that occupied the space before.

One thing's for sure: with Tesar's, glamorous Americas and the appealing Hubbell & Hudson Bistro under chef Edelberto Goncalves clustered within a couple blocks of each other on (and just off) Lake Robbins Drive, fine dining in The Woodlands is taking off.

(Tesar's Modern Steak & Seafood, 1701 Lake Robbins Drive, The Woodlands, 281-465-0700)

Posted by Alison Cook at 10:54 AM | Comments (8)
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August 05, 2009

First taste of Bodegas Taco Shop

I'm afraid I panicked a little when I walked into Bodegas Taco Shop for the first time and confronted the wall menu.

This document instructed me to "Pick a Pallet" (huh?), "Load It" with meat fillings, "Stock It" with 18 different kinds of garniture, and then pick out one or more of the 11 salsas to go on top. That entailed a lot of quick decision making. Worse yet, I would have to communicate every one of those choices to the poor young woman who stood behind the counter, ready--nay, eager--to assemble my tacos. Gulp.

Alison Cook Pork carnitas, fajita steak & rotisserie chicken tacos, Bodegas Taco Shop .

Despite my temporary paralysis, it all worked out okay. Bodegas is a perfectly nice self-service place in a tucked-away corner of the Museum District that can really use it--which is to say the Plaza Professional Building, a medical midrise catty-corner from the Park Plaza Hospital.

Nothing at Bodegas rocked my world, but I emerged satisfied by two of my three taco choices, cheerful about my frozen margarita and enthusiastic about the house charro beans. (They kill.)

Did I wish those 11 salsas had been offered on a do-it-yourself salsa bar, so that I could have added as much (or as little) as I wanted? Yes, I do. But Bodegas is too conscious of portion control for that. Extra containers of salsa will cost you 50 cents each.

Alison Cook Bar area, Bodegas Taco Shop.

I settled on tacos (corn tortilla version) as my "pallet," or base, in Bodegas-speak. (The others are burrito, salad, tostada, nachos, quesadilla and the inscrutable-sounding "bowl.")

The counter person was happy to give me three different fillings in my $6.45 order of three tacos: rotisserie chicken, fajita steak and pork carnitas. She painstakingly put guacamole on one, red onion and cilantro on a couple, different salsas on each...above and beyond the call of duty, really.

Alison Cook Frozen margarita, Bodegas Taco Shop.

Relieved, I retreated to a table by the floor-to-ceiling windows and waited for my order to be called, admiring the green tunnel of live oaks that gave the dining terrace unusual appeal. I sucked at the pale, fine-textured snow of a frozen margarita in a fancy goblet and decided it wasn't half bad.

Alison Cook Dining area, Bodegas Taco Shop.

I ended up wishing I had ordered spicy ground sirloin (picadillo?) as one of my taco fillings, because the diced fajita steak reminded me of well-done pot roast. Guacamole and salsa roja could not rescue it. Much better were the juicy shredded pork with a hot/sweet pineapple salsa, along with red onion and cilantro; and surprisingly tender rotisserie chicken, pulled into shreds and zapped with a tart tomatillo salsa. Both chicken and pork were treated more like guisos (Mexican stews) than roasted or fried meats, a homey twist I enjoyed.

Alison Cook Outdoor dining terrace, Bodegas Taco Shop.

Best of show, however, was the small cup of charro beans that came with my order. They could hold their own with those of any restaurant in town.

Doctors, medical workers, Rice students and visitors to the surrounding museums (MFAH, Holocaust, Children's) came and went at the counter while I was there. I bet they're happy to have Bodegas nearby. I'd be too, if it were in walking distance.

Alison Cook Door as sign & symbol, Bodegas Taco Shop.

Bottom line: this may not be a destination restaurant, but it's a neighborhood amenity with local flavor despite its vaguely sterile, quasi-industrial looks. With bike racks stationed outside by the owners, it knits into its urban area nicely. And that oak-shaded outdoor terrace is going to be a mighty fine place to sip a margarita when the weather cools off in....oh, about five weeks and counting.

I'll return with pleasure if I'm in the vicinity. And next time, I won't panic.

(Bodegas Taco Shop, 1200 Binz #160 @ Caroline, 713-528-6102.)

Posted by Alison Cook at 06:29 PM | Comments (8)
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August 04, 2009

First taste of Block 7 Wine Company

I think I'm going to like Block 7 Wine Company. The new venture, located in a smartly rehabbed appliance store on Shepherd just south of the Washington strip, combines retail wine sales with a wine bar that also functions as a restaurant. There's a short, well-edited menu that will soon be expanded but which already looks and tastes promising.

Alison Cook The bar at Block 7 Wine Company.

Click here to see more photos of Block 7 Wine Company.

The place looks smashing: airy and crisp and cool, all gunmetal greys and silvers, with black notes for ballast, a shimmer of glassware and a few bright pops of color. Cooler still--literally-- is the wine storage and display room, where a personal, manageable selection waits at cellar temperatures. That's impressive. Just walking into that glassed-in section during a Houston August is a treat for which the owners could probably charge admission.

Alison Cook A glass of Chinon at Block 7 Wine Co.

I admired the vintage store fittings salvaged from the original appliance business and repurposed as a check-out desk, as well as the reasonable by-the-bottle prices and the distinct personality of the list, which does not try to be all things to all people. I was excited to see three examples of Ribera del Duero (a favorite Spanish red of mine) at three different price points: entry-level, medium and premium. Same deal with three Malbecs, none of which I had tried.

Over in the sparkler section, I checked out the Louis de Grenelle Brut Rose I had tried--and liked--at Restaurant RDG recently. It was priced at $21.99, or by the case at $18.99. Not bad. Depending on my financial situation, I could have picked up a nice little Muscadet for a song, or a big-deal Burgundy for a lot. Staff was both welcoming and helpful.

From them, I discovered the great not-really-a-secret here: if you spot a wine you're curious about, they'll open the bottle in the bar and sell you a glass, whether it's on their official by-the-glass list or not, with just a one-glass commitment. And if you decide you like the wine enough, you can just purchase the entire bottle with no corkage fee whatsoever.

Alison Cook Croque Monsieur at Block 7 Wine Co.

At these bottle prices, that's as good as it gets in this town. Far better than Block 7's steepish by-the-glass prices, which inch toward half (!) the bottle's retail value. At least the pours are not skimpy, and they let you taste before you commit to a glass from a previously opened bottle.

There's some fun stuff to be sampled. A Schloss Gobelsburg Gruner Veltliner, a fresh and aromatic Austrian white for $8.50 a glass, had a nice acid bounce and a faint green prickle on both the nose and the palate. Swell for a Houston summer.

Alison Cook Arugula, charred corn & cherry tomato salad with roasted shallot vinaigrette, Block 7 Wine Co.

Also interesting (and seldom seen on Houston lists): an atypically big red Chinon from the Loire, with tons of glycerine and a translucent wash of bronze rimming its garnet hue. Its spicy, cooked red and black fruit flavors worked well with a simple Croque Monsieur sandwich of raclette cheese and ham on brioche, with a little bechamel to smooth the way.

Alison Cook Vintage store fittings repurposed for check-out desk, Block 7 Wine Co.

Okay, so this sandwich had twice the ham and cheese that it needed to be its best. I know, I know. Perceived value and all that. But it's such an American (or is it more Texan?) trait to double up on ingredients, even if that throws off the balance of flavors. I ended up fishing out one layer of sliced ham, scraping off the extra layer of melted cheese, and being quite, quite pleased with the results.

I think I'll be eating the Croque Monsieur again here. And I bet I'll be scraping off the extra ham and cheese again, too.

Alison Cook Local art by Matt Messinger from Spacetaker, Block 7 Wine Co.

An arugula salad with charred corn off the cob and charred cherry tomatoes was absolutely perfect, right down to its gentle roasted shallot vinaigrette that stayed out of the wine's way. I can see myself eating that again, too.

The menu quotes Alice Waters on the importance of good ingredients, and the kitchen appears to be taking its mission seriously. I'll be back to try out the variously topped flatbreads, the dry-aged beef burgers and the marrow-buttered buffalo hanger steak. Maybe the housemade pappardelle with braised rabbit and shiitakes. Or even the inevitable hamachi sashimi, here cured with coriander and seasoned with preserved lemon, celery leaves and pink peppercorn vinaigrette. I like the sounds of that, since I think celery leaves are the best part of the plant.

From my window table, I could see Soma, the Japanese fusion and sushi spot on Washington at Shepherd, and I trembled to think of the ravening scenesters that might soon invade my little idyll.

In the meantime, as late afternoon turned into early evening, I had a peaceful view of a couple of blooming cenizo bushes in front of Vogler Sheet Metal, "Since 1904." I had a feeling it wouldn't stay peaceful for long.

(Block 7 Wine Company, 720 Shepherd Dr., 713-572-2565. Bar & restaurant open Mon-Thurs 4 p.m -11 p.m.; Fri & Sat 4p.m.-1 a.m.; Sun 4-10 p.m. Retail open Mon-Sat 10 a.m.- 10 p.m.; Sun noon-6 p.m.)

Posted by Alison Cook at 08:06 PM | Comments (17)
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July 27, 2009

Will Restaurant RDG be Robert del Grande's second wind?

Ascending the grand modern staircase on the second night of the new Restaurant RDG's life, I felt wary and expectant.

My hopes sprang from the fact that this was the project, after all, of chef Robert del Grande--long a toast of Houston's fine-dining scene and a founding father of Southwestern cuisine. My nerves stemmed from the knowledge that del Grande had shuttered his Cafe Annie, just a few blocks up Post Oak Boulevard, to simplify, to go more casual and grill-like, perhaps even, I worried, to dumb down.

Alison Cook Chef Robert del Grande in his new restaurant, RDG.

I needn't have fretted, because my late-evening supper in the Grill Room last week turned out to be one of the most exciting meals I have had at a del Grande venue in many years.

I am still marveling over the ingenuity of the seared avocado appetizer, its flagrant velvety richness sparked by tart radish salad, salty cubes of queso blanco and just the right bump of fresh green chile. It's a brilliant example of what Texas cuisine can be.

Alison Cook The grand staircase at Restaurant RDG.

That avocado is one of the new dishes on a menu that has "circa" notations for each item, designating the year in which it first appeared in the Cafe Annie lineup. It's fun to follow through the decades and spot such old friends as the rabbit enchilada in red mole, or the classic Cafe Annie tortilla soup. But the new items signal that del Grande is far from finished as a creative force on the local scene, and for that I was grateful. In recent years, he seemed to have taken on more of a restaurateur's role, and I would love nothing more than for RDG to give del Grande a second wind as a chef.

Alison Cook Corn-husk roasted scallop with grits, bacon and poached egg, Restaurant RDG.

It's hard for me to get excited about a sea scallop dish anymore . (The shellfish are as common as crab cakes on menus these days, and often just as boring). Yet this particular scallop first course, wrapped in a ribbon of corn husk and roasted to a satiny turn, wowed me with its suave partners of poached egg and bacon-lashed grits. That the grits were warmed with just enough chile--like that seared avocado dish--made it perfect for Houston. The scallop may have been labeled "circa 1992," but it tasted very much of the moment.

Alison Cook Seared avocado with queso blanco and radish salad, RDG.

I loved the wood-grilled squab entree with herbal green mole and a wildly good black-bean "torta" that resembled a miniature stacked tostada. I could have eaten a whole plateful of those things.

I was delighted with the innocent dessert fun of a pineapple-and-banana butterscotch sundae, or a little pile of sugared doughnut holes masquerading as banana fritters. The latter is one of several "community desserts" priced at a sensible 8 bucks.

In fact, the only thing that failed to move me all evening was a slender piece of grilled sea bass with a clammy, slightly fishy lobster crepe alongside. Even the expertly crisped fish skin could not save the dish. And its $35 price tag hurt my heart, considering.

Alison Cook Dining room, Restaurant RDG.

About pricing here: there are prices and menu formats for more than just the high rollers. Stop in at the downstairs Boulevard Lounge, with its transparent Philippe Starck ghost chairs and its looming, Matisse-like portrait of del Grande himself, and you can partake of cocktails, a nice selection of wines by the glass and a variety of hors d'oeuvres that range from the comforting (chile con queso) to the sophisticated (grilled octopus with Spanish chorizo and salted prunes.) Most cost between $8 and $12.

Alison Cook Squab with green mole and black bean tortitas, RDG.

The Boulevard Lounge was empty except for its ghost chairs on Day Two, but the upstairs Bar Annie was a lively scene at 9:30 p.m.--packed with revelers at a green onyx bar and at many more tables than the original, narrow Bar Annie layout provided. The bar offers its own separate menu, including most of the lounge bites, plus an assortment of salads and entrees priced from $15-24. (Most are in the teens.) I've got my eye on the slow-grilled pork with cheese enchilada and salsa Mexicana at 16 bucks.

Alison Cook Pineapple and banana butterscotch sundae, RDG.

In the quieter Grill Room, with its entertainingly biomorphic mural by local artist Eduardo Ortiz, the widely spaced tables make for a more comfortable, light-filled stage than the relatively cramped, bi-level Cafe Annie did. I found the pale redwood trim that extends from the bar area truly beautiful.

My only quibble (besides that sea bass) was an initial period of about five minutes after being seated during which my companion and I were ignored. It was understandable at a late hour on such a bustling Night Two, and it was more than atoned for by great service thereafter from our waiter, Pedro. I was having such a fine time that when the brand-new air conditioning vent in that pretty redwood ceiling rained on me a little, I was charmed instead of vexed.

I can't wait to go back.

(Restaurant RDG, 1800 Post Oak Blvd., 713-840-1111)

Posted by Alison Cook at 10:36 PM | Comments (3)
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July 13, 2009

Thien An's Banh Xeo: When texture trumps taste

When the Banh Xeo hit my table at Thien An Sandwiches in Midtown, I just sat and stared in awe for awhile. So thin and luminous was the margin of this outsized Vietnamese crepe that I imagined I could read the menu through it, were I so inclined.

Alison Cook Banh Xeo (Vietnamese crepe) at Thien An Sandwiches in Midtown.

Of course, I was more inclined to rip off a hunk of this lacy edge, admiring its sheen and the brittle way it cracked to pieces, before popping it in my mouth. The rice-flour pancake, with its subliminal tinge of turmeric, both crackled and dissolved on my tongue--and the further toward the bronzy center I got, the more it crunched in concert with its hidden trove of bean sprouts.

Small, tasteless curls of frozen shrimp and decent barbecued pork shards were hidden in there, too, but the add-them-yourself garnishes were the real attraction: crisp slivers of marinated carrot and daikon; frills of leaf lettuce; sweet-savory nuoc mam, the clear dip twinged with fragrant fish sauce. The crepe and its fillings were a bland backdrop that I seasoned myself, right down to the strong, herbal sprigs of mint and wild, soapy rau that I tore apart for top spin.

Alison Cook Lacy edge of Banh Xeo, Thien An.

I've tasted more flavorful Banh Xeo (including some smaller ones that I've made at home), but I've never eaten such a texturally satisfying version as the one at Thien An. It's a triumph on its own terms, and a perfect light, fresh meal in the context of a Houston summer. Even better? The six-buck price.

Alison Cook Da Chanh (limeade) at Thien An.

I sipped a slightly-too-sweet-for-me lime version of Da Chanh, the Vietnamese lemonade, with my crepe. Had the day been younger, I would have opted for cafe sua da, the sweetened Vietnamese iced coffee--the sole species of coffee in which I can tolerate any sugar content.

Alison Cook Inside the Banh Xeo, Thien An.

Thien An, which is beloved of the young Chowhound and Yelp crowd for its banh mi sandwiches and its pho, is a crisp, clean place with an eccentric set of operating principles. Be warned. It's cash only, for one thing. It closes at 6 p.m., for another--and that's on Sundays through Fridays only, which means if you show up on Saturday you are out of luck.

And even the posted hours are none too official. On my first visit to the shop, I arrived a little before 5 p.m. on a hot Sunday afternoon. As I walked in the door, the counter people waved me away: business had been slow, and they had decided to go home early.

Driving away, I grumbled to myself. I hate it when restaurants play fast and loose with their advertised hours; I consider those hours a contract with the dining public, to be breached only in emergencies.

I almost didn't return. But I did, and I'm glad of it. Next time I'm actually going to see if I can read the menu through the rim of my crepe.

(Thien An Sandwiches, 2905 Travis, 713-522-7007. Sunday -Friday, 8 a.m. - 6 p.m.)

Posted by Alison Cook at 03:31 PM | Comments (6)
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June 11, 2009

First taste of El Taco Tote

Salsa bars make me happy. And I'm fairly certain my heart beat a little faster as I surveyed the princely salsa bar at El Taco Tote. (It's pronounced "toe-teh," and it signifies a humongous taco, mas o menos.) It was as if my system were anticipating the chile-induced endorphin rush that was sure to follow.

Alison Cook The salsa bar at El Taco Tote.

Follow it did: within the next half hour, I used a quesadilla, a couple of tacos and a handful of tortilla chips as vehicles for an exhilarating boatload of salsas and condiments. When I started breathing fire--which happened every time I downed another of El Taco Tote's irresistible marinated and roasted chiles toreados--I'd reach for my tall styrofoam cup of horchata, the gentle rice-milk beverage so suited to quenching flames.

Alison Cook Free chips & salsa at El Taco Tote.

El Taco Tote started its life in Juarez before launching as a chain in the United States, where it has spread across Texas and the Southwest. There are 23 units and counting now on both sides of the border. The Houston location, on Westheimer between Fountainview and Hillcroft, is vast and good-looking in a fancy-fast-food way, with desert colors, Saltillo tile and outsized earthen vases defining the space. There's a big, clean open kitchen where you can watch the meat-grilling and salsa-making action; and a self-service counter where you order and receive one of those vibrating light-flashers.

Alison Cook Quesadilla & salsa bar loot, El Taco Tote.

The interval while you wait for your food to come out, all snug in its aluminum foil wrappers with neat little labels on top, is prime time for cruising the salsa bar. I stocked up on sliced radishes, cilantro and chopped raw onion, snagged a couple of those delicious-but-lethal roasted whole chiles, and availed myself of some lime wedges and a tangle of pickled red onions. Then I went back for salsas: a mild froth of pale green "guacamole" that Houstonians would call "Ninfa's green sauce;" a sharper green tomatillo number; a vivid red-orange salsa roja with a major kick.

I had a good feeling about the dark salsa-negra-looking potion and was rewarded by its deep currents of smoke and earth. I passed on the mild red salsa (who needs it?), but helped myself to some Salsa Combray, a tomato-watery concoction that proved to be the only dud in the bunch.

Alison Cook Puerco adobado taco at El Taco Tote.

I dabbled in my salsa haul with some sturdy free tortilla chips housed in a heater, like popcorn. Then I fetched my official salsa conveyances when my buzzer went off. Best of show was the plain cheese quesadilla, a $2.09 crescent of slightly funky melting cheese (the kind with a desirable whiff of dairy yard to it), folded into a corn tortilla and frizzled on the grill. Simple and perfect, especially for showing off the properties of the various salsas. El Taco Tote also serves the quesadilla with various taco meats folded in--at a higher price--but I really liked the purity of the plain version.

I also liked the marinated pork adobado taco for its nice hit of pork-fat flavor and the way it blossomed under crisp garnishes and a hit of that salsa negra or hot salsa roja. Was this the street-fightin' equal of the puerco al pastor at your favorite taco truck? No, the pork was too well-mannered for that, but I enjoyed it, and I did not consider the price (2.99 for a generous-sized taco and unlimited garnishes) to be out of line, especially in such a comfortable setting.

Alison Cook Sirloin taco with pickled red onion and chile toreado at El Taco Tote.

The taco of chopped top sirloin, on the other hand, left me unmoved. The beef had no particular magic, and the housemade flour tortilla, while nicely thin, was on the leathery side. The housemade corn tortillas here are vastly superior: pliable and layery, so that they puff a little on the grill, and full of rich corn aromas.

Alison Cook The patio at El Taco Tote.

I'd definitely return to try out El Taco Tote's fajitas (note the user-friendly 4 a.m. closing time on weekends), and to sneak in another quesadilla or three. Just don't get between me and that salsa bar.

(El Taco Tote, 6154 Westheimer, 713-706-3233. Sun-Thurs 10 am-midnight; Fri-Sat 10am-4am.)

Posted by Alison Cook at 10:03 AM | Comments (14)
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May 14, 2009

First taste of Poscol

"This feels like being in a basement joint in Greenwich Village," said my friend Mimi as we sat inside chef Marco Wiles' new Poscol late one night. I could see what she meant: the brick, the lowslung dimness, the boite-iness of it all.

Alison Cook Fried spaghetti with tomato relish; cardoons at Poscol.

"Well, except for that neon sign in the parking lot," I teased her. That was pure Houston. We were just a few blocks west of Wiles' flagship restaurant, Da Marco, on Westheimer; and about a half mile west of his Dolce Vita Pizzeria Enoteca, also on Westheimer--the better for the chef to bop in and out during the evening.

Which he does. On both my early visits here, Wiles was in evidence for at least a short while. He's styled his new baby a Vinoteca Salumeria, which means it specializes in wines and cured meats; but there are plenty of panini-style sandwiches, cheeses, salads and vegetable sides, plus a pasta or two from which to choose. It's all very casual, a sort of souped-up wine bar that invites you to share a little of this and a little of that rather than ordering a formal meal.

Poscol's three house-made salumi items we ordered as a post-event snack that first night were finely wrought, from a rough and black peppery sausage to vellum-thin slices of pink porchetta (Italian-style roast pork) veined with pulverized green herbs. But the one I couldn't stop marveling over was the thin-cut veal tongue, with its ever-so-slightly gelatinous crunch and its boost of pickled red onion slices. The since-departed wine guy's suggestion of a barely frizzante sparkling Barbera, the Birricchina from Igino Roagna, won me over, even though I had been skeptical. Salumi and Barbera Vivace. Remember that.

Alison Cook House-made sausage, porchetta and veal tongue with pickled onion at Poscol.

My only sorrow that evening was that I couldn't order all of the house-made salumi on a single sampler platter: that format, aggravatingly enough, is reserved for Poscol's purchased cured meats. The house-made specimens will cost you $9 each--but I had plenty left over to bring home, photograph and snack on the next day, which took out some of the sting.

When I returned for a wider graze through the menu, I found myself smitten with the suave, creamy cod-and-olive-oil dip--baccala, a cousin to the French brandade; and with a graceful risotto puntuated by cubes of butternut squash and crunchy fried chicken livers. A panini of shreddy pot roast and salsa verde, with a bright little cabbage relish to liven things up, was plenty for two people to share.

Alison Cook Tomato-free panzanella salad at Poscol.

The only thing I disliked was an unattractive panzanella, the Italian bread salad that cried out for some tomato to brighten it up visually and make it lush. And an amusing small plate of fried spaghetti looked better than it tasted--it's a hard, crackly novelty of a dish--although I admired the sweet-sour tomato relish served with it. A little bowl of lightly dressed cardoons (a stalky, gentle-tasting artichoke relative) was the sort of treat I'd return for in a heartbeat.

We took the advice of Da Marco sommelier Richard Sanchez, who was filling in that evening, and tried a fresh 2008 Pecorino (the wine varietal, not the cheese, a perfect Houston summer white); and a dusky, slightly wild 2003 Savuto, a Calabrian red made with 45% Gaglioppo and some Magliocco Canino (among others), varietals new to me. Discovering two wonderful wines made up for the highish prices by the glass; bottles from this interesting list are, as usual, a far better deal.

My bottom line? This is a useful new restaurant in a format that suits the times, and to which I will return with pleasure.

(Poscol, 1609 Westheimer, 713-529-2797. Opens 5 p.m.)

Posted by Alison Cook at 04:02 PM | Comments (15)
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April 28, 2009

First taste of Pico's Bakery & Taqueria

I didn't mean to snarf up four tacos for breakfast at chef Arnaldo Richards' new Pico's Bakery & Taqueria. I swear it.

Alison Cook Tacos de cochinita pibil, Pico's Bakery & Taqueria.

I didn't even order four tacos from the lovely woman who waited on me at the counter of this brand-new spot on Bellaire Blvd. At least, I thought I didn't. But once I took a bite of one of the twin tacos filled with cochinita pibil (hadn't I ordered just one?), I became a heedless taco-eating machine. The tart snap of the dusky achiote marinade on the shredded pork was what roped me in: the effect was so lively, so satisfying, that I wasn't even tempted to apply salsa. That's a mark of true taco greatness, in my book.

Alison Cook Papel picado flutters from the ceiling at Pico's Bakery & Taqueria.

Not that I have anything against salsa. PB&T;'s brick-red, pureed "hot" version went nicely with pulled Sinaloan-style pork tucked into thin, double-wrapped corn tortillas. The filling was not as gripping as that Yucatecan pibil-style pork, but it was good, basic stuff with a flurry of chopped raw onion and ever-so-slightly dried-out cilantro on top.

That less-than-sparkling cilantro was my sole quibble about the food. Easily fixed, and it should be. Arnaldo Richards--the force behind the celebrated Pico's Mex-Mex restaurant--is too much of a perfectionist, too conscious of his ingredients, to countenance the use of a tired-out herb.

Alison Cook Chorizo, egg & potato taco at Pico's Bakery & Taqueria.

A flour-wrapped breakfast taco was longer on chorizo than on egg and potato, and I loved the brisk vinegar tinge of the sausage. An emphatically smoky fresh tomato salsa with a mild current of heat made a nice add-on. The tortilla? Flexible, thin, admirable. They don't make their flour and corn tortillas in house just yet, but I am told they plan to.

Alison Cook Taco de chilorio (Sinaloan pulled pork) at Pico's Bakery & Taqueria.

My one sorrow--that PB&T; was out of cafe con leche at 11 am on Sunday, for some ungodly and incomprehensible reason--turned out to be my great good luck. That's because I ended up with a cup of champurrado instead: a masa-thickened variant on hot chocolate that was pleasantly viscous and fragrant with cinnamon. The beverage was sweet enough that I couldn't have polished it off solo, but matched with
PB&T;'s savory tacos, champurrado was liquid heaven.

Alison Cook Pastry twists at Pico's Bakery & Taqueria.

Still, Pico's Bakery is going to have to get its coffee act together. They go to the trouble of serving local Katz's brews in thermal jugs, yet there is no milk or cream on hand, just that hideous powdered creamer. And running out of cafe con leche or cafe de olla ? What's that about?

The cases of Mexican baked goods in the colorful, shipshape dining room looked terrific. Yet the three pastries I brought home disappointed, from a sweetened-cream-cheese empanada with a slightly cardboardy crust, to a pecan-sprinkled mantecada (a species of buttery cupcake) that proved overly chewy. Even my favorite--an orb-within-an-orb that tucked yellow cake inside a ring of puff pastry--mostly served to remind me that I'm just not that into Mexican pastries, no matter how carefully they are made. I've been keeping an open mind for years, but if Arnaldo Richards can't win me over, maybe there's no hope.

Alison Cook Alfresco dining at Pico's Bakery & Taqueria.

What I like most about Pico's Bakery and Taqueria (besides that awesome cochinita pibil) is the way it seems poised to draw together two very different constituencies. On the one hand, the ingredient-savvy fare, cheerful decor and alfresco tables will appeal to regulars at Richards' upscale Pico's Mex-Mex restaurant, which does land-office business a few blocks west on Bellaire. On the other, the casual menu and casual prices--with nothing above $5.95--already lure patrons from the strip of Latin businesses that marches west down the boulevard from Chimney Rock. Everybody but me was speaking Spanish the day I was there. And I was trying.

I can't wait to go back to sample one of Richards' tortas, perhaps the machaca breakfast version, with egg and dried beef; or the Pepito de Bistec with cheese and avocado. But only if I can have one of those tacos de cochinita on the side. At $1.85 each, I can even afford it.

(Pico's Bakery & Taqueria, 5710 Bellaire Blvd., 713-662-2733. Daily 6 a.m.-8 p.m.)

Posted by Alison Cook at 12:31 PM | Comments (9)
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April 17, 2009

First taste of Brisa Cocina Mexicana

Add the Galleria-area's new Brisa Cocina Mexicana to Houston's handful of white-tablecloth Mexican restaurants. You can tell from the first bite of housemade tortilla chips and multi-dimensional table salsas that Chef Diana Ramos and her brother, who runs the front ... [more]

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July 24, 2008

First taste of Pierson & Company Bar-B-Q

There's been an online buzz about barbecue newcomer Pierson & Company ever since it scored highly in a recent barbecue taste-off organized by Houston Chowhounds, food-obsessed folks who post to Chowhound's Texas message board. Pierson & Co. won first place ... [more]

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July 08, 2008

First taste of Shula's Steak House

When the hostess handed me a regulation NFL football as she led me to a table in the new downtown Shula's Steak House--named for the legendary Miami Dolphins coach, Don--I thought I was in for a bizarre evening that might ... [more]

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May 23, 2008

First taste of Cullen's

Cullen's Upscale American Grille looms over the coastal prairie west of Clear Lake like Battlestar Galactica. It's the biggest restaurant I've ever seen: all stone turrets and flanges and swoops, looking like an entire shopping center unto itself. Alison CookCullen's ... [more]

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April 29, 2008

First taste of Voice

So far, I like the clean, discliplined flavors in which chef Michael Kramer is trading at Voice, the latest iteration of the restaurant at the downtown Hotel Icon. Gone are the Asiatic stylings and too-sweet-for-me flavor balances of Jean-Georges ... [more]

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February 11, 2008

First taste of Thyme Table Cafe

It's almost a trend: two young Korean chefs have opened up ambitious Euro-Asian fusion restaurants in the western suburbs within the space of a year. First there was Dae Young Jo at the delightfully beer-centric J's Bistro in Bear Creek. ... [more]

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February 08, 2008

First taste of Soma: wow!

It's a rare day when I get all ecstatic about a new restaurant during my first visit. I know to be cautious. I know the ups can swing down, without warning. But at the moment, I don't care: Soma is ... [more]

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January 15, 2008

A first visit to Beaver's

Everyone I talk to lately seems to have an opinion about Beaver's, the newly opened neo-icehouse and barbecue joint dreamed up by chef Monica Pope and sommelier Andrea Lazar of t'afia. Thing is, no two of those opinions are the ... [more]

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January 03, 2008

First taste of Zoe's Kitchen

Zoe's Kitchen, the Houston edition of which opened on S. Shepherd recently, sounded like a winning idea to me. Greek-influenced fast-casual and take-away out of Birmingham, Alabama? Bring it on. I liked the founding Cassimus family's notion of serving "convenient, ... [more]

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December 05, 2007

First taste of Del Frisco's

When a waiter deposited a tilty tower of onion rings in front of four guys seated at Del Frisco's upstairs bar, one of them began jumping around in his chair, arms akimbo, in an impromptu onion-ring dance. Kevin Fujii/ChronicleHand-battered onion ... [more]

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September 13, 2007

First taste of Red Onion Taco Cantina

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August 14, 2007

First taste of Brasserie Max & Julie

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June 06, 2007

First taste of REEF

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April 20, 2007

First taste of VIN

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