will_5198

Anecdotally, it was dead as a doornail when I visited last August. Typically slow month for restaurants and I was there on a weekday, but I saw one two-top in the entire restaurant from 5:30-6:30 pm (I was at the bar). One Fifth Steakhouse seemed to be super successful the year it was open, so I guess Shepherd is keeping that as his moneymaker with Underbelly 2.0 as the smaller footprint.

The gas was out when I opened the cumbersome castle door (seriously, it's weird) to Pondicheri, Anita Jaisinghani's nationally-recognized, modern Indian café. I was really looking forward to her kitchen's renditions of breakfast -- I hardly stray from the reliable American breakfast, as it's the only meal the United States can defeat all comers in, so trying an Indian version would be an interesting change. The persistent construction along Westheimer made that not possible, so I marched upstairs to Jaisinghani's Bake Lab. There, my disappointment faded with a bite of the cherry upside down cake ($4 per slice), which was a spongy, tart slice of love. Light enough to eat several slices, this is your tea or coffee's new best friend. Moving on to the main course of chai pie ($6 per slice), I understood why it's so locally renowned; tall as a meringue pie, but with dense spiced custard responsible for the height. Buttery biscuit crust that reminds one why pie is superior to cake. Skip the whipped cream on top, do not pass on the cashews. Very happy at this point, my chocolate chip, coconut and mint cookie ($3) was the final glory for the Pondicheri baking team. A simple combination but done better than most. I hope to try a savory breakfast at Pondicheri one day. I know for sure I will be back for everything else that comes out of their baking ovens.

As soft as Wisconsin's schedule is, an undefeated P5 team will always get into the CFB Playoff. The only rankings that matter are the final ones. Funny thing about this part of year is the same scenarios are always brought up. It's fun water cooler banter and part of the sport (polls!), but ultimately it nearly always works out.

Dusty is an older-school players coach, which was a great fit for this current club. I don't blame him for the past two NLDS losses -- Nationals had plenty of chances to win both on the field, and they didn't. That predates Dusty. I also believe managers make the least impact across all the major sports when it comes to tactical decisions.

"The trend is clear: Most elite high school QBs think they’re going to beat out whoever is front of them."" If you're good enough to be considered one of, if not the best quarterback in HS, you don't think about losing a competition. Call it hubris or naivete or that alpha dog mentality so treasured in football, but these guys only see themselves as competition. If I grew up loving Clemson and Clemson loves me, and I've outperformed every other quarterback I've ever been put up against, I'm not going to my second choice because somebody else with a high star ranking is already there. Of course, as anyone who follows college football regularly can tell you, there are plenty of times that these highly ranked recruits turn out to be not that good. Especially at quarterback. So an abundance of riches ends up being one viable starter. That reminds me of USC's 2006-2007 recruiting classes, at the height of the Carroll dynasty. In 2006 they signed four of the top 13 running backs in the class. In 2007 they signed the top 1 and 2 running backs in the class, the former being the number one overall player in the country. None of them turned into an All-American, a few transferred out, only one was drafted by the NFL and at the end of their careers it just turned into the familiar recruiting tale that the next big thing may never come -- even if you have a bunch of them.

Loved my visit here. A great taco stand is one of the best ratios of price-deliciousness-efficiency in the world of food. I especially appreciated the no-nonsense cashier to weed out gawkers asking irrelevant questions. Barbacoa was wetter than my favorite editions, as I live for those crispy bits (tripa dorada forever), but all the flavor was there. Pastor was indeed sweet, but I’ve got a forgiving range when it comes to pastor (no trompo here, though). Chicharron was ordered because it’s often done poorly, but passed the test as well. Homely and tasty corn tortillas for all. Salsa verde had that perfect balance between spice, cilantro and acid. Highly recommended anytime meal. These tacos would play well in Dallas, Austin or San Antonio.

Yes. I took advantage of weekday happy hour (1/2 off wines by the glass) and was recommended a Pierre Henri Morel Laudun Blanc ($5!) that went over well with both my dishes. I have an infantile understanding of wine, but it was just what I asked for.

Since opening five years ago, Chris Shepherd's Underbelly has been a self-appointed beacon for the evolution of Houston food. The menu has a half-page thesis on why Houston is the most interesting culinary city in the country, there are dozens of celebratory links to *other* Houston restaurants on their main webpage, and Bun B is quoted on the wine list. From afar I've found the chest-beating a little too much, but I can appreciate a chef who wants to represent his city -- especially in a time where many owners are happy to replicate restaurants from other cities. And being such a vocal proponent certainly helped Shepherd win the James Beard Award for Best Chef: Southwest. But hey, what about the food? Head-on Gulf shrimp with buttermilk dill panna cotta, pickled beans ($24). Plump and sweet, this was a great showing for Gulf seafood. The panna cotta was a nice compliment. Hand-torn cornbread pieces and pickled beans were both sort of throwaways. Seared soft-shell with eggplant curry ($24). Shepherd recently made a big PR announcement about getting away from beef and pork, which meant a larger focus on seafood. Soft-shells are among my personal favorite foods, and this was a very good one. The eggplant curry was nicely done with a touch of heat; Shepherd is a fan of moderate-to-significant spice (if you're not, be aware, as it permeates the entire menu). Vinegar pie with salt brittle ($9). Previous savory dishes were not coursed (nor labeled as appetizers or entrees; guess by price) so I was rather full after two. Still curious enough to try this dessert, which I believe has been on the menu since 2012. It's not scary at all; more key lime in flavor than sour or acidic. Overall, a quality showing by Shepherd and his team. I didn't fall in love with Underbelly, but it's worth visiting for anyone who appreciates loud flavors with global influences -- basically the "Houston creole" cuisine that the restaurants trumpets.

Expansion is always a scary word for acolytes of a particular restaurant. Although it often results in financial stability, a new creative avenue, and the room to retain or promote staff -- as a selfish group, us diners demand our favorite chef to be chained to his or her one restaurant, serving us with the dedication of a lifelong host. For Hugo Ortega, who is the American dream personified (Mexican immigrant dishwasher to James Beard award winner), expansion is just another way to demonstrate why he’s one of the best chefs in Texas. Xochi is the newest of the four restaurants he runs in Houston, opened this year, and a no better argument for adding even more to his mini-empire. Occupying one corner of the brand-new and gorgeous Marriott Marquis downtown, Xochi is sleek and lively, keeping up the modern aesthetic that Mexican restaurants have finally been allowed to embrace nationwide. The food follows suit; progressive and rooted in history (mostly Oaxacan) at the same time, for an all-together exciting meal that deviates just enough from Ortega’s other restaurants. Infladita de conejo ($14) -- Ortega’s version of the Olvera-popularized street snack. A puffed black tortilla cradled a sizable portion of braised rabbit, the bitterness of the fried tortilla balancing out the sweet, tomato-braised conejo. Red and green sauces with raisins and almonds rounded out the dish. Something old, something new, but a complete success. Puerco en mole de chicatana ($15) -- The pork ribs are fine on their own; obviously distant in comparison to the smoked meats found at true barbecue pits. But the real magic is when you pull apart the meat and slather on the “ant” mole served underneath. Ortega has long welcomed the presence of insects in his cuisine, and ants are what I assume account for the acidic and sweet notes in the otherwise hearty mole. Add the mole-doused rib meat to the accompanying corn tortillas (which probably have an interesting heritage, as they were a pale gold color and flecked with blue), and you have one hell of a taco. Helado de maiz ($9) -- Two types of ice cream here: one sweet corn, the other queso fresco. The former is playfully represented as baby ears of corn. Crumbled corn cookie and a dab of cinnamon-y, atole-influenced corn cream acted as garnish. Very fun and just right for those who pass on cloying or heavy final courses. I expect Xochi to be better a year from now, as any weak points get discarded and the best dishes are fine-tuned into perfection. Right now it’s excellent, and I would urge anyone traveling to the city to make time for a meal there. Houston is lucky to have Hugo Ortega, and his followers are lucky to have so many different ways to enjoy his cooking.

Is mole the most commonly misunderstood Mexican dish in the United States? I’ve had objectively bad mole, and what I presume is good mole, but coming from my own place of ignorance, I’m never sure the exact standard I should be looking for when I eat it. With no trip to Puebla or Oaxaca in the horizon, I guess I will let Daniela Soto-Innes and her team define mole for me. To that end, Cosme’s duck enmoladas with red mole ($25) was a brilliant display of layered flavors: rich, slightly sweet, and with a toe-tap of chili at the end of every bite. Dotted with crème fraiche and red onion to break up the indulgence, strained to a texture that reminds me why I eat out at restaurants, this was a sauce that took care to make and was finished with an attention to technique. The rest of my lunch never quite reached that height, but was nonetheless enjoyable. An arctic char tostada with elderberries, yuzu and avocado ($21) was introduced as a Mexican take on a bagel with lox -- a cute story that didn’t really make any sense. Huge ribbons of fish played nice with all the ingredients, but the appetizer was a reminder that even “modern Mexican” chefs cannot make eating a tostada any less clumsy. Of course, a proper meal here should end with their famous husk meringue with corn mousse ($16). Big punches of salt and restrained sweetness, balanced by the delicately broken meringue pieces. I loved it.

I should make it to Houston before the end of the summer. I'll put it on my list -- currently hitting up Corkscrew, Tejas Chocolate and Killen's while I'm in the area.

Tom Micklethwait puts more pride and knowledge of craft into his sausages than any other I've tasted in Texas. He can give you a perfect rendition of the classics -- their jalapeno cheddar link is a benchmark -- and as mentioned, his more creative takes are as good or better.

I nearly missed the ticket dispenser when I first stepped into Russ & Daughters. Packed from end to end with me just barely fitting inside the door, and suddenly engulfed by all sorts of food curiosities I wanted to pursue, it took a moment before I realized to snag my number in line. Ticket 590. I looked down to the end of the store, where the sign flashed 557. It was 11 a.m. on a rainy Friday and I hunkered down for a wait, surrounded by like-minded tourists, locals, chefs, and an angry woman “who drove 45 minutes” and had “never waited an hour in all her years coming here.” One employee smiled and told her to come during the holidays, where she’ll wait for two hours instead of just one. After a few walkout casualties and little regard for the distracted (your number is called once, then promptly skipped after a beat or two), I finally made it to the counter with my order recited: everything bagel, toasted, with cream cheese and Scottish salmon loin. Nothing more. A few minutes later, on a street bench away from all the cellphone picture-taking, elbows and clatter of the 103-year-old institution, I unwrapped perfection. The ideal ratio of bagel, cream cheese and smoked fish. Hot, cold, crisp, tender, fatty, salty. I am not an expert on bagels or salmon or the heritage behind their combination, but for me this was a new personal benchmark. The best of its kind I’ve ever had. What’s the Michelin tagline for three stars? Worth a special journey. Over 1,500 miles from home, finishing my last bite of a Russ and Daughters Classic, and all I could think was -- absolutely.

Best movie released in the last 35 years.

This tactic is so diabolical and petty that I almost respect it. I'm sure they're concerned about their numerous salads, which could be labeled healthy to the unobservant. They aren't, though, and that's why they taste so good. I had a Thai Steak & Noodle salad ($20) in North Dallas last week that was everything I wanted in a little splurge of a business lunch. Above-average ingredients (filet, mango, avocado, arugula) that were well-cooked and well-dressed. Also, the service at the bar was everything Knowlton described. My iced tea never was more than half empty when it was replaced with a fresh glass and lemon automatically. When I clumsily dropped my lap napkin, the bartender had a new one ready to trade out as soon as I rose from picking it up.

Barley Swine Four years ago I had one of the best meals of my life in a little 35-seat restaurant off South Lamar. Since then, Barley Swine has only gotten bigger and better. In January 2016 they moved into a brand new space at Burnet Road, which is on the other side of Austin, and were able to upgrade everything. Seating has doubled. There is a bar program now (no liquor was served at the original). The open kitchen is three times the size, with dedicated grill and pastry sections that barely existed before. Chef Bryce Gilmore remains front and center, however. I make a point to visit yearly, and each dinner has left me with a deeper appreciation for what he does. Despite running another successful restaurant at full steam (Odd Duck), Gilmore bucks most trends by relentlessly improving his flagship. Barley Swine 2.0 now has two-tops (the original was communal tables and bar seating only), a private patio, a la carte as well as a full tasting menu (previous versions were either or). Yet the place to be is still the chef's counter, a long row that looks directly into the open kitchen. You’re right in front of the garde manger, flanked by the busy grill and with a great view of the center island that constitutes the pass. That’s where Gilmore will be, and I’ve never seen him without a mechanical focus on every single process going on in his kitchen. Kooper Family Rye ($10) Austin-made rye. Very light, and smooth. Chef’s tasting ($90) There are several fantastic options a la carte, including a shiitake pasta and pig skin noodles (both are not as simple as they seem) that have remained on the menu since the restaurant’s relocation. Also make sure to order any fish entrees if they’re available; a filet of red snapper with koji butter eaten here remains one of the best dishes I’ve had in lifetime memory. The tasting menu is my preferred option, though. Sweet potato, goat cheese, smoked trout roe After a complimentary glass of sparkling, this amuse was more of a technique-exhibit than anything. A puffed sweet potato bite filled with goat cheese and topped with roe. Basically a loaded potato chip. Beet-cured mackerel, sugar snap pea Not sure how much beet flavor is imparted, but a beautiful slice of red-stained fish in a pea broth. I guess winter peas in Texas is a thing, due to the extremely hot temperatures in early spring and late fall combined with a lack of frosts. Delicate and delicious. Sunchoke custard, fried skins Anyone else tired of sunchokes yet? Gilmore uses them even more than most chefs, but I always find his versions enjoyable. This was a super-concentrated custard, served with fried sunchoke skins dabbed with devil egg topping. Starchy fried skins are something I've seen at other places, and I get why they’re popular. Here was a great example of every component being perfectly seasoned and delicious on its own, but even better and not overwrought when you put them in a single bite. Ember roasted squash, mesquite, toasted seeds A single slice of squash with its charred skin left on. The assertive roasted flavors were unabashed here, but what set this off were the bits of chocolate miso sauce on top. Sweet, smoky and bitter all in play and harmonious. Barley Swine pays attention to vegetables, and it shows. Red shrimp, cauliflower, tangerine Wow. A single exemplary shrimp, surrounded by a pool of cauliflower sauce that had been previously roasted and aerated just a bit at service. Gilmore has long used these slightly foamed sauces, giving them a lightness without verging on the abstract. The tangerine sauce was incredibly vivid, dotting the white cauliflower for a beautiful contrast in visuals and taste. Dry aged beef, broth, seeded loaf The best part of this dish was a separate cube of flax seed loaf. The outside was baked to an addicting golden brown crunch, with a moist crumb dotted with nuts. On top was a slab of extra cheesy arugula pesto. Combined it ate like an abstract steakhouse side; the heartiness of bread and butter mixed with a pesto mimicking a spinach gratin. Oh yeah, the steak was nice as well. Served in a bowl with oyster mushrooms and bone broth poured tableside. Pork belly, cabbage, gulf XO sauce Sous-vide then finished on the grill. Sausage filled with shrimp mousse -- or rather, shrimp mousse wrapped within a sausage. More technique exhibition, but tasty. Duck, broccoli, fried duck egg A stunning final savory course. Duck breast lacquered and rosy rare to the best anyone can do it. A single piece of grilled broccoli. Another foamed sauce, blank white but tasting exactly of fried egg. Perfect bites that’ll be remembered. Apple, lemongrass, koji rice pudding Approachable but still creative. Rice pudding was served cold, topped with a quenelle of ice cream and crunchy bits. Koji has been splattered over every tasting menu the last year, but I haven't found a reason to complain yet. Pastry chef Susana Querejazu has been with Gilmore since 2014, running desserts both here and at Odd Duck, and is extremely talented. Dark chocolate, winter nuts, milk jam Traditional dark chocolate tart done extremely well. A little sea salt, caramel corn, candied orange peel. I favor lots of cacao and small portions when it comes to chocolate, so this was speaking to me. Mignardises Macaron and a pate de fruit. Gilmore uses preparations and flavors seen at other trendsetting restaurants world-wide, but there’s a sincerity to every dish that you can’t get from copying technique. Each bite is perfectly seasoned on its own, but even better together and never overreaching. I have yet to taste anything here that's less than fabulous. Gilmore is long overdue for a James Beard award (this year will be his fifth straight nomination for Best Chef Southwest), and is still running Barley Swine with the utmost command and precision. If you visit Austin, you must go. This is the best restaurant in Texas.

FT33 It’s been a few years since I’ve dined at Matt McCallister’s FT33, mainly due to an underwhelming first experience and prices that never seemed to match their value. I’ve kept an eye on their progress, however, and after a few months of menu-browsing I felt compelled to give the place another go. The restaurant has just recently switched to a prix fixe focus: four courses for $65, which I find much more appealing since you can choose all four courses. You can still order a la carte, but with appetizers at $15-19 and $38 mains, it seems less of a value. I found the portion sizes to be largely the same either way. Spanish G&T ($12) -- This was fine. A little too floral or vegetal for myself but I was fairly warned by the bartender. Sourdough, sweet potato focaccia, whipped butter -- Nice diversion but nothing too memorable otherwise. Beef heart tartare with blue barley, sour carrots, shallot jam and horseradish panade -- What kept me interested in FT33 this whole time were dishes such as this. Raw beef heart is still a pretty risky offering in Dallas, so I respect McCallister for putting it on his menu. I thought the horseradish and fresh parsley were a little strong, making the tartare fade on several bites, but this was overall enjoyable. Pork and squab pate en croute with mustard and mushroom salad -- This would’ve never been on the menu a year or two ago, but I love the fact there is still room for traditional techniques here. Pate was excellent, although the raw mushroom salad was my favorite part -- thin sliced and dressed with something vinegary. Great contrast. Belle Vie duck breast and cotechino, purple top turnips and hoshigaki in brown butter -- Belle Vie is an independent farm just outside Austin, and credit to them for raising such a delicious duck. It was rendered beautifully and just the right shade of rare (albeit a tad salty). A small round of duck sausage was the best thing on the plate, however. Turnip puree rounded out things nicely, and I’d never had hoshigaki before but I applaud the extra effort to not just tack on a compote. Buttermilk pie with shortbread crisp, charred grapefruit and candied fennel -- Maggie Huff, FT33’s pastry chef, was not onboard the last time I dined here. She seems talented, having worked with McCallister back at Stephan Pyles, and I enjoyed her take on a classic dessert: the custard filling had been blended into a freeform base, with a buttery crisp on top. Reminiscent but different. Only hitch was the garnish -- this is prime grapefruit season in Texas, but this marks three restaurants in a row where they were more sourer than usual. Odd coincidence. In summary, a very good meal. Creative, grounded in fundamental flavor, with just a few composition nitpicks that kept it from being a great one. A relative value, as well, considering I’ve wasted as much money buying frozen fish at Pappadeaux. Lastly, the service was trying extremely hard (in a good way) -- I’ve heard about and seen some inconsistencies in the FOH here over time, but everyone was going above and beyond this night. After several years of tepidness, I’m much more enthusiastic about FT33 now and in the future.

Valentina's Tex Mex BBQ When chefs in New York clamor to open their own barbecue restaurant ("Brooklyn-style BBQ"…and people say Texans are arrogant), and 30-somethings plan vacations around Pujol instead of Noma, it’s a wonder why smoked meats and Mexican cuisine haven't developed a deeper relationship within Texas itself. Sure, there are brisket enchiladas and tacos, but those are filled with pot roast, not true ‘cue (delicious as it is regardless). Smoked barbacoa is also found in a few places around the state, but that’s another rarity. Enter Miguel Vidal. The San Antonio native opened Valentina’s Tex Mex BBQ (his daughter’s name) in 2013, a food truck that would meld the state’s favorite two cuisines. And that he’s done, to amazing results. The first great aspect of Valentina’s smoked brisket taco ($5) is that you can order one at 8 am. Real barbecue before lunch hour is a minor miracle, and that alone would make a visit compulsory (shout-out to Snow's). Aside from making mornings a better place for everyone, the taco itself is perfect fusion: a friendly portion of chopped moist brisket, smashed avocado, hint of lime, and a large, handmade flour tortilla that dutifully cradles it all. Salsa roja that’s heavy on cilantro and serranos comes on the side, and a necessary addition. Taken together, and a number of swirling questions enter the mind between every incredible bite: Why hadn’t we thought to put guacamole and salsa on a fatty slab of smoked brisket yet? Why have we confined beautiful brisket to boring sandwich rolls, when a warm, griddle-kissed tortilla can do the same job? Why haven’t I visited this trailer until now? If that masterpiece doesn’t do it for you, breakfast hours (until 11 am) offer The Real Deal Holyfield ($6.50) as a dare. For this version the brisket is sliced regularly, laid atop a combination of beans and potatoes, then topped with a fried egg and slice of crisp bacon. Yes, that’s all correct. To me it’s almost too much, but I support the fact it exists. As stunning as both those tacos are, my personal winner is the carnitas taco ($4.50). Another heaping portion of meat, this time the juiciest smoked pork you can imagine, resting over sautéed onions and topped with fresh cilantro. Don’t forget to liberally apply the tomatillo salsa and you have one of the best tacos in Austin city limits (or anywhere, for that matter). Brisket by the pound, beef ribs, and the usual barbecue sandwiches are also available if so inclined. One note: although Austin is a post-oak world, Vidal goes mesquite in his pit -- despite the traditional naysayers, I never tasted an errant bitter bite. Plus it adds another layer of uniqueness to the entire operation. The real reason to be at Valentina’s is the tacos, though. They are a simple idea executed brilliantly, and provoke an urge to return the very next day, order another round, then try everything else you haven’t had yet. Which is the best endorsement anyone can give to a restaurant.

Summer is probably a little worse, but I just ate at Micklethwait last Saturday at 11:30 am and there was about 20 of us total. Took about a half hour from getting in line to receiving my food (a few sausages, jalapeno cheese grits, a divine version of Frito pie with brisket on top, and a noteworthy slice of pecan pie). It was also only 30 degrees, so there's that. Stiles Switch is about six miles north, and is a full sit-down restaurant I've had good experiences at. It’s not the best barbecue in Austin, but it’s very good -- and tastes even better when considering the ample indoor seating, friendlier hours (open until 9 p.m.) and a lack of line-waiting endurance training. If you drive up right when they open you'll be among the first served, and immediately.

la Barbecue For a couple of years la Barbecue was known as the trailer where true Austin residents went for their barbecue. It was opened by Louie Mueller’s granddaughter, LeAnn, and one of her first acts after kicking out her brother was to hire John Lewis -- who worked for Aaron Franklin at the time. It was a great backstory (Lewis wouldn’t agree to become pitmaster if LeAnn kept the Mueller name, so she came up with a compromise using her first name), and the meats lived up to the origin. Enthusiasts bragged about going to la Barbecue, with shorter waits and briskets that were as good or even better than Lewis’ mentor. Lewis is long gone, however. He moved to Charleston and opened his own place, cornering the Central Texas barbecue market in South Carolina while being able to put his name on the door. In the (roughly) two years since Lewis left, Mueller is on her second pitmaster -- Dylan Taylor, an early twenties kid who trained under Lewis himself. And so the cycle continues. The brisket at la Barbecue is still exceptionally good, and while I haven’t been to Franklin annually to compare (once is enough at this point), I can’t imagine there is much of a gulf separating the two. This is brisket at its most hedonistic -- the difference between lean and fatty is negligible at times, because it’s *all* fatty. That’s a byproduct of the arms race around Texas barbecue joints, as everyone tries to buy better grades of meat and render the most fat per inch. It’s gotten to the point where I’m asking for lean at the chopping block these days, as getting through even a slice of moist brisket can be nap-inducing. To be honest, my favorite part of la Barbecue is their ribs. They require just the right amount of jawing at, with the reward being a smoky, balanced bite that lingers in the memory. I’m not sure how they glaze them, or what spices are used, but it’s an incredible end product. I’d even say they are the second best pork ribs I’ve eaten in Texas over the past several years (City Market being the best). Lewis was making his own version of hot guts sausages before he left, and the last time I had them they were quite solid. Not super spicy or remarkable otherwise, just a very good in-house sausage. Their beef ribs aren’t going to disappoint anyone either, although my previous ramblings on brisket fat marbling apply tenfold to these things. Sides are mere palate cleansers here; worth a shot if you’re interested but don’t go overloading on them. Their potato salad is the kind where you can use an ice cream scoop and it won’t lose its shape for the rest of the day, so you know where you stand on that. Pintos are fine. Chipotle slaw is a southwest tweak but not really my thing in this case. Lastly, the line. Although I mentioned la Barbecue was sort of an insider’s haven when it first opened, the wait on prime days has long been brutal, and only eclipsed by Franklin. So you can easily melt away 2-4 hours on a Saturday. That said, Franklin is *always* busy, and I’ve managed to be one of the first dozen in line at la Barbecue on a chilly weekday right at 11 am.

I greatly prefer tamales cooked in banana leaves; those sound delicious. And Hugo Ortega is indeed a Texas culinary legend with an amazing personal story. Hope you have a chance to report on Caracol sometime.

Despite downtown itself being largely a bore, if you end up in that area there’ll be plenty nearby. Fine Dining Uchi is two blocks away, the third version of Tyson Cole’s Austin original. Cole’s take on Japanese simplicity with Texan accents won him a Beard Award -- grapefruit instead of yuzu, Mexican chiles with bluefin tuna, sautéed foie gras nigiri -- and the Dallas outpost is a collection of his greatest hits. Note that it has been oppressively popular since opening a year ago, as even Sunday nights are often booked through. Uchi has plenty of sushi, even daily Tsukiji specials, but I’d focus more on the unique composed dishes (don’t forget to order a fried milk for dessert!). The overall consistency of the restaurant is at a lower level than either one of Cole’s restaurants in Austin, but at its best Uchi is still a surreal experience: a restaurant that feels absolutely Japanese and Texan at the same time. Above Uchi is Top Knot, which is not fine dining but rather Asian small plates. Cole’s dip into David Chang-style bar food, with the usual overzealous bao, healthy veggies done carnivore-style, fried chicken and excessive desserts. Speaking of Beard winners, Dean Fearing and Stephan Pyles are two legends who popularized southwestern food as fine dining, but I can’t give their flagships much of a recommendation. Fearing’s, part of the Ritz-Carlton, should be skipped unless one of the Dallas Mavericks insists on paying for dinner. Even then I can think of better ways to blow $100+ a person. Stopping by for dessert is not the worst idea, though. Pyles’ closed his eponymous restaurant earlier this year and replaced it with Flora Street Café at the end of summer. I have yet to dine there, but my outlook soured after seeing his new chef de cuisine touting a stage at Grace, then unleashing copycat Curtis Duffy dishes on the fawning, unsuspecting Dallas public. As with most Pyles restaurants Stampede 66 was best at its opening, but still worth a downtown lunch. When it comes to breakfast, lunch and dinner, CBD Provisions remains the king of downtown. It’s a Texan-southern-New American mash-up menu, with something for everyone but all of it done well. The pig head carnitas ($75, two-day notice) are a Dallas dining bucket list item. “Tex-Mex” Mexican restaurants are not often “one-size-fits-all” here, despite what their menus indicate. Amid all the standard offerings, there are hidden, unassuming specialties -- likely based on the region of Mexico the owners originated from, and far superior to everything else. Manny's Uptown Tex-Mex is one such place, although they’ll proudly tell you to order their locally famous brisket tacos ($10.50). As “Tex-Mex” cuisine has become ubiquitous nationwide, brisket in a cheesy griddled taco remains sort of a Dallas specialty. Manny’s beats its competitors thanks to their brisket gravy, which should be drizzled on everything they plate. Plus you get to eat in a cool/garish yellow house. Avila’s is also worth an Uber. Super cramped, with an ill-suited layout, a true parking lot of death out front and a great chile relleno from the kitchen. Their salsa is one of the hotter varieties I’ve had at a popular restaurant, which makes it that much more addicting. El Fenix may seem a tempting option, as it is not far from American Airlines Center, but despite the 98-year history the food is barely passable. Next door is Meso Maya, which is much better, yet still lacking a certain destination-worthy draw to it. La Ventana completes the trio on that block (all owned by the same company), and are the best tacos you’ll eat in a two-mile radius: quality ingredients cooked well, not spectacularly. Barbecue Firstly, and I cannot stress this enough, but great barbecue is a lunch-only event. Even among places that are open past 3 p.m., do not expect to lavish your tray with anything more than a chopped brisket sandwich or their last remaining sausages. Pecan Lodge is within easy striking distance via DART (light rail; buy an all-day pass for $5 and take the station in front of American Airlines Center) and continues to be one of Texas’ best ‘cue restaurants. Which of course, makes it one of the world’s best. Beef ribs and brisket (fatty) are their landmarks, but order all the meats you can and don’t worry about the sides. Waits vary based on weather and day, with weekends being especially bad. But nowhere near the Andrei Rublev-esque commitment that Franklin demands. Closer and more accessible is The Slow Bone. The name can be blamed on former owner Jack Perkins, who aside from cooking a delicious burger is best known for eating fries off customer’s plates and getting into social media showdowns with egoistical customers. The brisket, ribs and sausage here are all above average, but you really want to save room for the multitude of side dishes. They also do memorable fried chicken. Horrible parking and swarmed by the business lunch crowd, so plan accordingly. 18th and Vine is close as well, but more of a full restaurant than the aforementioned. Although they serve the Texas trinity, true to their name the cooking leans towards Kansas-City-style. Not sure if flying to Dallas to experience a facsimile of Missouri barbecue is the type of recommendation Don Rockwell readers appreciate, but I vouch for their delicious burnt ends ($13). Thanks, KC. Do not by any chance wander into a Dickey’s or Sonny Bryan’s and expect a meal that resembles barbecue. **** As always, if a specific restaurant comes to mind, let me know and I'll chime in with an opinion (if I have one).

I saw that photo from his meal at Franklin, and it didn't look like their best day for brisket. 90 percent of the time you can tell how the brisket will be just by a visual.

Resident Taqueria The opening of Resident Taqueria a year ago was the Eater article that wrote itself -- chef spends career working coast-to-coast and building a CV that lists Keller and Jean-Georges as employers, settles down to raise family in Dallas neighborhood as a culinary instructor, then decides to open his own place using fine-dining experience to “elevate” street food. The fact that the chef’s sister-in-law is a Pitchfork-approved indie artist and served tables the first week was the page view cherry on top. Even above-it-all hypocrites like myself are interested in trendy new spots, though, and after months of visits (the place fills up quickly and often) I’ll join the chorus in praise. The first thing they nail is the atmosphere. It has the polished utility of a quick-service-franchise, balanced with a friendly neighborhood vibe. It’s dim in the right places, colorful everywhere, and the ever-busy tortilla machine that rolls out fresh masa balls onto the griddle is welcome background chatter. The tortillas are not hand-pressed but are made to order, the standard being flour with a extremely delicate texture (corn available upon request). Of their eight everyday options, the Braised beef short rib with onion, tomato confit and chipotle crema ($4) is the best of the meat tacos. Really decadent and balanced. Not far behind is the Glazed pork belly with cucumber, slaw and agave ($3) -- both show a kitchen that’s spent a lot of time on how composed and varied a dish with three bites can taste. Daily fish tempura with cabbage, radish and lime crema ($3) is your standard white fish taco, albeit a pretty one (thanks to watermelon radish). Slow-cooked mushroom with poblanos, oaxaca cheese and almond salsa ($3) is also fine; a nice option for the vegetarians among us. As far as (somewhat) traditional choices go, the Resident braised pork shoulder with pineapple, cabbage and guajillo salsa ($3) is well-done but typical in flavor. I like my chorizo tacos heaving with fat, so the drier and coarser House-made chorizo with onion, potato and smoked tomato crema ($3) didn’t make me go crazy. Both are good, but there are comparable versions at other taquerias and can be skipped here. Caramelized cauliflower with fried kale, pepitas and lemon epazote aioli ($3) is the offering you cannot bypass, however. It is their showstopper, a vegetarian taco that stands favorably with any meat option in the city. The cauliflower is sliced thin and placed on the same griddle that warms the tortillas, then topped with a crunchy balance of pumpkin seeds and kale. Of all the delicious braised meats that can go inside a tortilla, this out-of-nowhere vegetable combination is as delicious as anything else. Simply one of the best tacos in Dallas. You should also try whatever special they're running that day. I've seen duck carnitas with escabeche, tempura squash blossom, coconut shrimp, sweetbreads, and even San Antonio-style puffy tacos on occasion. I’ve always said the best tacos in Dallas are the ones down the street from you -- great options are everywhere, so location and familiarity are important. But the inspired small masterpieces being served at Resident Taqueria are worth a longer drive.

Good point, you are next to a station that takes you right into Dallas. Light rail is mostly dependable in DFW, it's just slower than other versions on the East Coast. The trains physically move slower and the wait times between them is longer if you're used to Metro. But hey, at least you're not driving. Funnily enough, everywhere I mentioned above is not easily accessible via DART. There are stations somewhat nearby, but you'd still have to ping an Uber. In that case, I'd recommend Deep Ellum. You take the TRE to Victory Station (right in front of American Airlines Center), then transfer to the Green Line headed to Buckner. Get off at the Deep Ellum or Baylor Medical Center stop, as both are in the same neighborhood. Once there, Pecan Lodge has the best barbecue in DFW and ranks right up there with Austin and Hill Country's best, but only serves past 3 p.m. on Fridays and Saturdays. The flagship Cane Rosso is down the street -- they were one of the first places really going for Neapolitan pizza, and have succeeded so well that about a half-dozen more of them are across the Metroplex. My favorite is the Delia, with arugula, roasted cherry tomatoes and an addicting bacon marmalade. Quality at the expansions has never reached the times I've eaten at the original, but it's been awhile since I've swung by the latter. Dallas decided it needed a Husk replica, so Filament was born. It's the second restaurant for Matt McCallister (FT33) and has received mostly positive reviews. I haven't had a chance to try it myself, but you can look at a menu and see if it fits your taste. I have been to Monkey King Noodle Company, and it's a great, low-key option if you want simple Chinese. They focus entirely on hand-pulled noodles and a few dumplings. The Hot Spicy Beef Noodle Soup is their signature, although you have to really be in the mood to finish a bowl when the summer here lasts from March to September. Don't let that scare you away, however, as they do cold noodle dishes as well. They've converted their former location down the block into a Taiwanese dessert stand that just opened a week ago, which seems interesting. Luscher's Red Hots is fast casual, opened by Chicago native and seemingly overall cool guy Brian Luscher. I used to wake up at an ungodly Saturday hour to get one of the Chicago dogs he'd serve at the farmer's market before he found a location, and while those are still great (disclaimer: I have no point of reference and have never been to Illinois), I gravitate to the rest of the menu more. The specials are just that: a corn dog that can hang with Fletcher's, tallow fries that take an already excellent french fry and ascend them straight to God's right hand, and a fried smelt basket filled with everything delicious. They also do one of those excessive burgers (Uncle Herky) if you're into that. Definitely get a side of onion rings no matter what you order, as they are by far the best in the city. Braindead Brewing has an excellent corner patio with their own taps and food you should only graze on before or after a better meal elsewhere. Black Swan Saloon is an excellent place to get a custom cocktail. On The Lamb, Brick and Bones and On Premise are all recent additions to the area that skew more towards alcohol with some interesting food options; I have no experience with any of the three but they may be worth investigating for you.