will_5198

That's a tough location to get around DFW from. The Mid-Cities don't have many dining destinations, but Via Real in nearby Irving is above-average, family-run Mexican food with great formal atmosphere. Very comparable to Fonda San Miguel in Austin. It also gets deceptively busy during the week, mostly due to business travelers such as yourself. Barbecue is Mission: Impossible for conference-goers (unless you can explain a two hour absence for lunch). There may be locals or hotel staff that recommend Hard Eight in Coppell, but it's middling. Your best choice/chance would be Lockhart Smokehouse in the Bishop Arts District of Oak Cliff (Dallas). They are usually open for dinner hour, although from your hotel it's at least 20 miles to get there. If you can manage the trip it's worth sticking around the area, as the walkability and proliferation of small businesses/restaurants make it one of Dallas' best neighborhoods. Grab a drink at Bishop Cider Co. or Ten Bells Tavern after dinner, then make sure to get a slice of pie from the cute and always crowded Emporium Pies. Trinity Groves is about the same distance from your location as Bishop Arts, but it's a lot more trite. It's basically a bunch of generic restaurant concepts packed under one developer's roof. Very popular though, and you could find yourself in worse places to eat. Casa Rubia is a Dallas version of Jaleo, and I do enjoy Off-Site Kitchen for their eclectic burger and fries menu. A half a mile west from Trinity Groves are two of the best taquerias in the city: Tacos Mariachi is run by an exceedingly friendly owner (who remembered me after one visit a month prior) and does excellent, Tijuana-influenced tacos. Stick with the specials and seafood, as their chopped pulpo is some of the best octopus I've had. Trompo is the second aforementioned taqueria, with a focus on Monterrey-style trompo and open-face quesadillas. Their genuine trompo tacos are among the three best tacos in DFW, although they've been selling out by early afternoon ever since Andrew Knowlton gave them a nod in Bon Appetit last month. I haven't been to FT33 in a year but they fill the quota for sleek, modernist cuisine in Dallas. Again, located on the west side of Dallas to avoid as much traffic as possible. The cooking has left me a bit cold in the past, and from my experience you should stick with appetizers. Across the highway from FT33 is Sprezza, a summer newcomer with very good Roman small plates and pastas. Julian Barsotti is the owner, and he's one of a handful of Texan chefs doing excellent Italian in a region known for bad Italian. I'm going to cross off all of Park Cities, Uptown, Deep Ellum, Lower Greenville and East Dallas from your list -- trying to get through the mix-master construction that runs through Dallas is not recommended. But if you want my opinion on somewhere specific, send me a message. Good luck, and let me know if I've led you astray .

Great read. I agree that the main problem with the local star system is when everyone is a two star, no one is really a two star. Sietsema has the same habit, with seemingly the vast majority of his reviews being 2-2.5 stars. The flip-side is a one star review might as well be zero, as Chang points out.

With one night to have a proper dinner in D.C. since moving away five years ago, the choice of restaurant had become a tortuous pre-flight decision. Procuring research from poorly-lit Instagram uploads and carefully read DonRockwell.com passages, I turned my back on old favorites in new places (Ziebold, Ruta) and I went with the not even six-month-old upstart in Adams Morgan -- a decision the staff at Tail Up Goat made sure I wouldn’t regret. Boulevard Hibiscus Gose ($7) - On tap, relatively inexpensive and paired well with everything. I had three. “Potato salad”, trout roe, charred spring onion, crème fraiche, seeds, dill ($14) - In my previous online stalking of this dish it was presented with fingerlings cut lengthwise. My version featured red bliss potatoes untouched by a knife. Not sure if it was a sourcing issue at the time but it took the presentation down some. Taste was excellent, however. The salty-creamy-herby combination of a regular potato salad kicked up a bit. Pappardelle, green tomato ragu, braised goat, pickled raisins, fiore sardo ($18) - The dish of the night ©. The ragu was made with love and lighter than most, while braised meats and fresh pasta is one of my personal favorite marriages of all-time. The pickled raisins were what really took it from great to excellent, though -- a phenomenal addition. Lamb ribs, sumac onions, cilantro, beets, yogurt, hazelnut dukkah ($44) - Probably their showpiece signature dish at this point, and for good reason. I’ve heard complaints of too much fat on these bones, but I like the contrast between the leaner meat and rendered good stuff. Ribs should be a bit of an adventure at times, not just a sweet, homogenous plank of meat. The creator blessed me with the cilantro-loving gene so everything else going on here was top notch. I loathed the beet (and cheese) trend but here they were perfect. Again, the restaurant nailed the eclectic semi-Mediterranean theme that resonates through their menu. Stuffed, immensely satisfied and convinced there was no other restaurant in the city I would’ve rather been at that night, I also became quickly jealous that Tail Up Goat was not in my own zip code. It’s exactly the sort of restaurant that enriches a neighborhood and a city -- I hope it’s still as popular as ever in another half decade.

Of San Antonio’s indigenous foods, the puffy taco is seemingly the most notable. You can’t find them in any other major Texan city, at least not regularly, which gives them a sense of place that’s hard to come by with food nowadays. Ray’s Drive-Inn is often cited as the birthplace of puffy tacos, although I’ve read rumors that a place in Austin predates them. Whatever the case, they’re most known for popularizing them, so I guess the victors write the history. Celebrating its 60th anniversary this year, the restaurant itself is a hodgepodge of parking, seating, decor and menu items. In addition to puffy tacos they sell hamburgers and hot dogs, are cash only (of course), and have about five Jesus pictures staring at you at all times. True kitsch on display here. I’ve found it’s best to keep it simple with puffy tacos: A beef taco ($2) and avocado taco ($2.15) arrived freshly fried but not greasy, both with ballooned masa shells that you just can’t find in many other places. These puffy tacos avoided the common fault of flaking apart too quickly, which is probably a lot harder to do than it seems. The fillings, however, were about as rudimentary as they come -- I wasn’t expecting to be floored by ground beef or crushed avocado, but both could’ve used a lot more seasoning. That aside, the shells themselves were delicious and well-done. I left one of the country’s classic food institutions with a new puffy taco benchmark. **** While Ray’s Drive-Inn is the original flag-bearer, Los Barrios gave the puffy taco Food Network appeal -- literally, when Diana Barrios-Trevino competed on a “Throwdown with Bobby Flay” episode back in 2007. The Los Barrios owner bested Mesa Grill’s golden boy, and a lot more people knew what a puffy taco was afterwards. Today there’s not much to mark the big media blitz from a decade ago, as the whole place is largely unassuming (albeit popular). Unlike Ray’s it’s a full-service Mexican restaurant with a menu of all the familiar classics, but I was here for those scripted-TV-winning puffy tacos. An El Perfecto ($9) margarita started things off strongly, literally, along with a perfect rendition of chips and salsa. And I mean perfect chips -- warm, with that fresh out of the oil glisten and ideal texture. The #4 Presidential Puffy Tacos ($10.50) is a two-taco combo platter of your choice. I went with beef and avocado again, and in a direct comparison these were not structured as well as Ray’s -- my ground beef taco was past the point of picking up by the time it hit the table. The actual fillings were better, however, and the sides of rice and borracho beans were phenomenal. I’d work through the rest of Los Barrios puffy taco menu if given the chance, but based on the sides and chips I’d be content coming here for everything else is on their menu. **** Like most good food histories, the puffy taco comes with a little bit of family drama. Ray Lopez, owner of the aforementioned Ray’s Drive-Inn, had a pair of younger brothers that worked for him back in the murky 1950s of food copyright. Arturo Lopez eventually took over the original business, while Henry Lopez took the puffy taco idea out to California for a bit. Of course, both men claimed invention of the puffy taco in the years after, especially when it came to branding their separate restaurants. When Henry got back from the west coast he opened Henry’s Puffy Tacos in 1978, about three miles from his brother and Ray’s. Whatever the history, I have to give the edge to Henry on this one. The chicken taco ($2.89) and beans and cheese taco ($2.89) were the best of my visit; the shells were fried expertly and the fillings had the most attention paid to them. I believe refried beans with cheese is the way to go when it comes to puffy tacos, as both act as a bond that prolongs the integrity of the delicate shell. The shredded chicken was just as delicious, however, and was fit for hand-held consumption even after sitting a bit while I took an awkward picture. Anyway, after gaining some basic knowledge of the landmarks serving it, I’d recommend everyone try a puffy taco when in San Antonio. It’s not a mind-blower, but it’s certainly unique, tasty and worth experiencing.

Qui The namesake and flagship restaurant from the James Beard Award-winning, Top Chef-conquering Paul Qui has been on my must-visit list since its inception. Nearly three years after opening, the nightly Instagram paparazzi has faded, service has been polished, and the confusing small plates plus family-style menu streamlined into two tasting options. The newness has worn off and systems have been put in place -- making it the perfect time to finally dine here. Of course, the man himself no longer has to lead the kitchen on a Friday night, and I'm assuming his absences are more normal than his visits. Also not present was the chef de cuisine, Jorge Hernandez (formerly of Minibar), but it seems like Qui has learned from his senpai and attracted a deep roster of talent: his sous chefs handled the open kitchen during my meal without a hitch. The dining room at Qui is tasting menu only ($70 standard and $55 for the vegetable option). There is also a six-seat counter that does a different, more modernist tasting menu ($120) which is available through ticketed reservations. Gin & tonic / Ford's gin, Takara plum wine, Bittermens "Commonwealth" tonic cordial, Topo Chico ($14) -- Topo Chico in a gin and tonic! A palm-to-forehead moment for not realizing this amazing combination a half-decade ago. Hiyashi chawanmushi, almond dashi, smoked trout roe, marcona praline -- Beautifully plated and ingredients that read like a winner, yet lacking any memorable flavor. The cold custard was flat-tasting and only a dab or two of the roe added anything to the dish. Whipped lardo, carrot, jamon iberico, goat milk yogurt, chervil -- At this point I was scared for the rest of my meal. The foamed lardo was nondescript, washing over the muted carrots and bits of supreme quality ham with bad synergy. Confit sunchoke, pork blood, coconut vinegar, black lime, pickled garlic -- Just as they were about to lose me, pig blood comes to the rescue. This was a basically a few sunchokes with garnishes, but the velvety, rich pork blood sauce was phenomenal. The first "wow" moment of the night. Confit hen of the woods, egg yolk, sal de gusano, rosemary­ -- A delicious bit of confit fungus. "Mushroom with a few drops of egg yolk and toasted bread crumbs" would be a simpler description, albeit less sexy. Arroz caldo, crispy pig face, Island Creek oyster, pasilla chile -- Congee served with delectably crunchy pork bits wafting throughout. A plump oyster hidden at the bottom of the bowl was a pleasant finish. Strube Ranch ribeye, grilled brassicas, rat tail radish, sakura beef broth -- This one didn't work for me. A ribeye involtini that was difficult to cut and not especially flavorful. The wrapped brassica was nicely done, however, and the well-attended, extremely clear broth was the best part of the dish. Maja de camote, sweet potato pudding, ginger yogurt sorbet, binchotan seared meringue -- One of the best desserts I've ever had. The presentation was also fun, as the meringue topper is seared table-side using a white-hot piece of Japanese charcoal (maybe not the best practice for the liability insurance). The hot and cold, restrained sweetness, balanced composition -- all perfection. I had talked myself into doing both tastings beforehand, so with very little prodding by the wait staff it was time to tackle the vegetable side of things. At this point I also have to commend the exemplary service. Despite a "laid-back", "unpretentious" reputation, the service procedures were what you would expect from a formal fine dining experience: tables wiped down with a hot towel between courses, unobtrusive but feedback-seeking servers, and pace-of-meal adjustments to your liking (I preferred the courses come out faster). Before I had even mentioned a second tasting, one server brought up the suggestion himself -- thoughtfully delaying the dessert of the first menu until all savories were finished. There was never that lingering moment where you think to ask for something, because they always anticipated your needs. Coliflor con migas, brown butter, pea tendril, caper -- Purple cauliflower served room temperature with a little extra umami. A pleasant start. Lettuce, crème fraiche, apple, brassicas, pine nut -- This was a standout among both menus. The lettuce had been smoked (or grilled?), mixing beautifully with the rest of the ingredients. Trumpet royale, hedgehog, yamaimo, purple mustard, mojo de ajo -- Another mushroom plating, but far superior to the regular menu. The herbed mojo sauce was addicting and went brilliantly with the roasted mushrooms and yams. Smoked beet, black vinegar, toasted seaweed, shiso -- Not much new to be done with beets these days. A 12-hour smoke and Asian garnishes were a decent try. Rice noodle pancit, shiitake, cabbage, black garlic, grain broth -- I haven't eaten many Filipino noodles before, but I imagine these were among the better versions. Rustic and comforting. Sweet potato, smoked goat feta, onion, heart of palm, miso, tumeric -- Hearty, and reminiscent of a pasta course: grated cheese on top, onion in the background, and textures that mimicked marinara. Make the sweet potatoes into gnocchi and it'd be great Italian fusion. Parsnip panna cotta, toasted farro ice cream, huckleberry, toffee, honey tuile, walnut -- I wish I could give proper credit to the pastry genius behind these two spectacular desserts. Monica Glenn led the department as recently as last summer, but there's no mention of her on the updated website bios page. Regardless, the dessert itself was another masterclass in textures (best ice cream in town), balance, and simply elegant composition. I am not a fan of impractical art display desserts, or the quenelle plus scattered crumbles and shards plating. Cheddar cheese ice cream sandwich ($12) -- Perhaps as a dare after 14 courses, I was presented the pulatan a la carte menu, which is usually restricted to the bar and patio spaces. Challenge accepted. One of two dishes from the opening menu still hanging around, this was an ice cream cookie sandwich made memorable by the salty cheese filling and airy waffle crackers encasing it. Presented with a warm towel because you should only eat this with your hands. Jamon iberico -- A gift from the chefs working the six-seat $120 tasting menu. So much better than the dish it was being used for, and a great gesture as well. Qui seems at its best when the chef reaches into his Filipino handbook and adds his own style. Pork blood dinuguan, rice porridge, spicy noodles, cheese ice cream (a national favorite)"¦it's almost as if Qui is a fine dining Filipino restaurant without trying to be one. There were a few examples where high-level technique did not translate into high-level flavor, so I understand the criticisms, but I enjoyed the overall experience quite a bit by the time I walked back out to 6th Street. A unique restaurant worth consideration.

Micklethwait Craft Meats Is this what Franklin Barbecue was? A blog time ago, before becoming the most popular barbecue restaurant in the country, back when Aaron Franklin was serving modest crowds out of a non-descript trailer? If so, everyone in Austin should be enjoying the chance to eat at Micklethwait in its current form. Even after three years of operation, walking up to their trademark yellow trailer during Friday lunch hour puts you in a line only a dozen customers deep, and with the full menu available (driving past Franklin Barbecue a half mile away, masses were still waiting to get in their door). The criminally short wait belies one of the best meals in Texas. The brisket ($18/pound) is excellent if you're judging the standard of Central Texas barbecue, pork spare ribs ($17/pound) are better than most, and the beef rib ($20/pound) has everything you look for in a beef rib. It's the other meats where Tom Micklethwait stands out, however -- starting with a selection of house-made sausages that rotates often. On my trip it was a kielbasa ($16/pound), rich in sage from their garden, and the best sausage I've ever eaten in Austin, Taylor, Lockhart or Dallas. Absolutely perfect in every way and worth a trip on its own. Beef strip loin ($18/pound) is an uncommon selection at a Texas smokehouse, but the beautifully pink slices, wrapped in a crusty bark, would fly out of a steakhouse at $40 a plate. The barbacoa ($14/pound) is a nod to South Texas barbecue; find a stack of warm tortillas and you've got the most delicious street taco ever. Pulled goat ($18/pound) is a Saturday-only special I missed, but I can't imagine it being any less than amazing. Side dishes are must-orders here, which is another departure from most barbecue spots (Franklin included). Lemon poppy seed cole slaw ($2) is a mayo-less refresher amidst all the meat, with a little kale and citrus going a long way. Potato salad ($2) is traditional yet better than a majority of places, thanks to the fresh dill and bits of red pepper. Ranch-style beans ($2) are phenomenal. The barbecue sauce seems a bit too vinegary on its own, but balances wonderfully when mixed in a chopped beef sandwich. Even the standard white bread and pickles are baked and pickled on-site. A house-made chocolate moon pie ($3.75) takes you through the finish line ribbon with arms raised in glory. I've waited in line at Franklin (three years ago I showed up at 9 a.m. on a weekday and was among the first dozen; reports of people now lining up before 7 a.m. have me doubting ever returning), regularly eat at the excellent Pecan Lodge, and visited most of the Hill Country old school temples (Louie Mueller, Black's, Smitty's, Kreuz"¦still missing Snow's). But if anyone was to say that Micklethwait has the best overall barbecue in the state, I wouldn't disagree.

The Secret Behind Kindred's Incredible Milk Bread

Relative to its size, Dallas arguably has the worst food criticism in the country. The leading voice is the dreadful Leslie Brenner (Dallas Morning News), whose unethical hubris and complete lack of self-awareness puts her in a category all her own when it comes to major critics left standing in print media. She's followed by the less-affronting but spiteful writing of Nancy Nichols (D Magazine), while the one critic worth reading, Scott Reitz (Dallas Observer), just left for California this month. I mention this because before he turned all his attention to chocolate, Scott (redacted) was the best restaurant critic in the area. Not unlike our own fearless leader, his DallasFood.org site was a treasure ship of reviews, revelations, rises and falls in the DFW food scene. It's clear from his latest takedown of the Mast Bros. Death Star that he writes with the perfect mix of well-informed fact and personal passion, and I appreciate his veracity even if single-origin chocolate is not much of an indulgence for myself.

Kindred After a rainy, harrowing drive through the less developed roadways north of Charlotte, stepping through the doors of Kindred felt like home in a way only the best neighborhood restaurants can. Although located in Davidson -- a small college town currently best known for a non-graduate -- the work being done by owners Joe (husband) and Katy (wife) Kindred has been far reaching, including a nod from Bon Appétit as one of the top ten new restaurants this year. That's how I found it, and a few looks over their menu made it a necessary addition to my work trip. Rittenhouse rye Manhattan ($11) -- Perfectly made. The bar program is in full control here, and well within their right to charge double figures for their work. Milk bread, fleur de sel, cultured butter (N/A) -- Once this hits the table, the Kindreds have already won you over. It's everything great about a dinner roll, served in an oversized ramekin as if they only made one especially for you. Comfortingly familiar yet different enough to stand out (the taste of fermented butter is a sadly rare treat), this is the kind of signature item that great places have. Flounder crudo, wasabi tobiko, grapefruit, avocado ($11) -- While heavy on Southern ingredients, nearly menu item passes through a finishing school from another global cuisine. The gratis Japanese baked bread was a sneaky prelude for things to come, as the tobiko added just the right amount of saltiness here. Stunningly presented with complex tastes in a simple package, this was a great dish that could be served in any city. Wagyu beef tartare, katsuobushi, celery leaf, mushroom ($12) -- More Asian flavors at play here, with an interesting mix of fish flakes and dehydrated mushrooms on top of well-diced tartare. Spicy as well, which I don't prefer (I like to taste a bit of extra fat rather than heat) but still enjoyable overall. Oyster mushroom tartine, stracciatella, cranberry, mint ($10) -- The type of Thanksgiving leftovers I wish I had. Beautifully cooked mushrooms stacked on top of cheese and country bread, then dotted with acid and herbs to lighten it up. Gnocchi, blue crab, citrus, chive, crème fraiche ($14) -- Plenty of pastas add heft to the mostly appetizer-sized menu (only two or three $19-23 full entrees). I'm sure they're all winners, but I'd be content to eat this edition every time: the gnocchi light, the pulled crab meat plentiful, and the sauce a great background singer. Apple galette, ice cream, milk jam, candied thyme ($8) -- At this point in the meal they could've served me Breyer's and I wouldn't have held it against them, but of course their desserts are as good as everything else. Either the work of a skilled pastry chef or talented savory cook, this was the best sort of ending to a delicious meal. Kindred has only been open ten months, but runs like a restaurant already in full stride. The parade of regulars coming in on a dreary Tuesday night, all greeted by name and inquired about family not present, hopefully is an indicator it'll be around for the next ten years. A treasure of a restaurant that reminds me why I spend the time and money to search these experiences out.

Netflix steps up production to lure Latin American subscribers US subscribers love Netflix's new Spanish-language shows The show itself was entertaining. Pablo is an easy character to be invested in and root against.

Harper openly idolizes Mickey Mantle (3+4=7) and has never hid his enthusiasm for playing in iconic stadiums against legendary franchises. No matter how much money the Lerners have, they cannot buy the prestige of 100 years of winning. The Nationals, as much as I love them, are woefully lacking in the tradition department and have a fanbase with wandering eyes. Harper sees himself as a future legend in the game, and he wants to be in the biggest market and play for the biggest bully. His love-me/hate-me personality fits perfectly as a Yankee, and a 2019 arrival would coincide nicely with the overpaid slough of the current team being shed for good by that time. It makes too much sense for him not to be in pinstripes.

Unfortunately, there is zero percent chance Harper and Boras sign an extension. Harper *will* hit the 2019 free agency market, in his 26-year-old prime, and I don't see any way that the Nationals keep him. Harper will go down in baseball history as a New York Yankee when it's all said and done.

Gemma I've never been to Napa Valley, and I couldn't define "Napa Valley Cuisine" besides what Christopher Kostow and Michael Chiarello told me on TV, but I imagine Gemma is what happens when Northern California cooking meets North Texas ingredients -- simple, seasonal food made to accompany wine, served by two St. Helena restaurant veterans who made the move to Dallas. Owners Stephen Rogers (chef) and Allison Yoder (general manager), who both spent seven years working in Napa, have become critical favorites since opening Gemma in late 2013 (with countless crimes against headline puns to prove it), and the restaurant remains one of city's toughest reservations on any open night. Besides the food though, there's a warmth to the place that is lacking in most new restaurants. It's soundproofed to the point you can have a private conversation. The interior has a sort of handcrafted Pier One look, which is a bright and welcome reprieve from those dark industrial spaces. Service is approachable but also well-trained. The result is a special occasion destination that serves just as well as a neighborhood favorite -- weekly bar meals seems the norm for certain customers, and the restaurant fills up with industry folk during late night (the kitchen serves an abbreviated menu until 1 a.m.). Pumpernickel bread and fig scone -- While the atmosphere may be unpretentious, deceptively formal service standards remain. I enjoy bread service, especially if it's done well in-house, and this was such a case. Goat ricotta with fava bean puree and grilled bread ($10.50) -- A summary of what Gemma does best. Caringly made ricotta with a twist of black pepper and faintest swirl of Texas honey, surrounded by a pool of freshly crushed favas. Perfectly grilled bread on the side for spreading. Simple, exacting food that leaves an impression. Ricotta cavatelli with braised lamb, dandelion greens and shimeji mushrooms ($24.50) -- Two pastas are mainstays on the menu; a cavatelli and a pappardelle. The minor accompaniments change as necessary, and I was glad to get a little bitterness from the braised greens to cut through the lamb. The texture of the cavatelli itself was fine, not great, but overall a good dish. Assorted ice creams and sorbets ($12.50) -- The rewards of a small restaurant having a dedicated pastry chef. The fruit sorbets were good, the cocoa nib and vanilla ice creams were very good, and the coconut and cardamom ice creams were sublime. Satisfying and familiar, but with enough finesse to stave off boredom. And top notch service to boot. Recommended.

Hardly.

Surprise, Pete Rose re-inventing the truth after the public finds out something else he can no longer lie about. First he "never bet on baseball", then he "bet on baseball but never on the teams he was a part of", then he "bet on teams he was a part of but only as a manager." Now it's he "bet as a manager and player but never against himself or team". His own hubris and continued defiance of any sort of accountability are the reasons he is not in the Hall of Fame. He is a liar and nothing he says about his betting history is credible.

^ This. I'd also guess the next generation of long-time business travelers will care less and less about any sort of daily housekeeping services before check-out.

Sorry I'm late; this weather is too depressing! CBD is one of your better bets around downtown (although I'm not sure about their breakfast. Weekend Coffee is a cute spot that's right next door, however). Most of "downtown Dallas" is a wasteland of bland dining choices, as you'll see the interesting city neighborhoods are extremely segmented. Smoke is good. Nearby is Jonathan's Oak Cliff, if you want a more traditional breakfast. If you're headed that way you'll also be really close to the Bishop Arts district, which is a couple blocks of independent shops and arguably the highest concentration of good-to-great restaurants in Dallas: Oddfellows has good coffee and a decent breakfast (with service that is nice but almost always slow), Emporium Pies is always a treat (get the Lord of the Pies and seasonal options), Lockhart Smokehouse is the second best 'cue in the city without the insane Pecan Lodge wait, plus there's foodie shops like Dude, Sweet Chocolate and Bolsa Mercado that are fun to browse. If you stick around for dinner there's Bolsa, Hattie's, the amazing Lucia (a splurge and only four walk-in seats), Boulevardier (French bistro-ish) and Mesa (fantastic regional Mexican). As KMango mentioned, Hypnotic Donuts is great. They've really upped their game over the last two years -- all the chicken biscuits are worth the caloric bomb, and the Espress' Yo Self / Peace' Statio donuts are must-haves every other week or so. Right up the street is Good 2 Go Taco, which has the best gringo-style breakfast tacos around (the Paris, TX and a cup from Cultivar Coffee -- which shares the same space -- is one of my top three breakfasts in Dallas). Although I completely understand if you don't want to drive out to my side of Dallas, as it's not of greatest convenience. Crossroads Diner is a great choice if you decide on it. Classic-diner-style breakfast items done extremely well. It's always busy and loud but I've never been disappointed. Village Baking Company is on the way up/back, too. I had a great lunch at Woodshed Smokehouse last summer...but it's much more enjoyable during spring or fall, when you can sit out on their big deck patio (the restaurant is very open-air inside, too). And the drive back from Fort Worth can be crushing.

Ironically lame and misguided attacks on Fieri, along with a big dose of fantasy portrayed as nostalgia. The author rails against Fieri's cholesterol-raising diner visits as an affront to American health...while pining for the serene, butter-and-cream cooking of Ina Garten. I'm sure there's a good diatribe out there on the changes (for worse) made by Food Network, but this ain't it.

Michael Bradley with the most ridiculous turnover ever. A simple pass and the game is over.

Ever since the privatization of the Dallas Farmers Market a year ago, the owners of Pecan Lodge have been looking for a standalone restaurant space. Rumors popped up as to their next home base (Pecan Lodge in the suburbs? A long line *and* highway traffic?), but they finally settled on a location not too far from the original, in the adjacent neighborhood of Deep Ellum. They made the transition at the end of last month, and as three-year patron, it's a much improved experience. The "industrial country" interior feels like it's already been there for years. There's a bar now. There's a patio. They have more room to cook, and thusly, more food. Live music and dinner on the weekends. It's still a crush of humanity from 11 a.m. until 3 p.m. every day, but overall much more pleasant. A few other things have changed as well. Beef costs have taken off like a revived NASA launch, and Pecan Lodge seem to be using a different supplier for their beef ribs ($22/pound). Still gargantuan, still delicious, but a little less expensive and less perfect than the ones I've eaten before (which I would've taken over every single piece of brisket in Taylor, Austin and Lockhart). That said, the beef rib remains the most interesting type of Texas barbecue. With a singular bite you can have nothing but delicious bark, or meltingly rendered fat, or pure smoked beef, or the jerky-esque profile near the bone, or all those tastes put together. Arrive early simply for these. No complaints with the brisket ($20/pound) since the move and increase in production; it's as good as ever. But I really like what they've done with the pulled pork ($16/pound), which I tried for the first time in a long while. Any pretense of North Carolina has been abandoned (my favorite style, but nobody in Dallas does whole hog or could ever put that much vinegar on their barbecue), sticking with the same preparation as the brisket, just in pig version. Eating pork with such a rich, dark bark is quite something. Ribs are still their fifth-best meat (I neglected to mention the sausages), but secretly I don't prefer the Texas style of ribs, and rarely order them anywhere anymore. Sides ($3) remain solid. Their mac and cheese is a fine version, with crumbled bacon on top and a trace of jalapenos within. Collard greens are quite good. Well-cooked, with zip and the faintest sweet heat at the end. Coleslaw is heavy on the carrots, cayenne and red cabbage. Pinto beans are OK. Fried okra is the most inconsistent; occasionally arriving either cold or overcooked. Banana pudding ($3.75) is enjoyable, but this is not a meal where you save room for dessert. At least you shouldn't.

For those in a certain tax bracket, pulling into the lot of the 30-year-old Rosewood Mansion at Turtle Creek can be intimidating. Rows of luxury vehicles surround the entry, with a parade of incoming and outgoing traffic resembling every Dallas stereotype come to life. A gaudy sight broken up by approaching valets, who make sure you haven't gotten lost on your way to Mattito's. Yet after reservations are confirmed and your car whisked away to a dark corner away from the McLaren, the experience is nothing but warm -- excellent service that marks every interaction with the staff. The dining room helps with the comfort level: well-spaced, white tablecloths gone but not missed, a somewhat lax dress code, and relatively festive patio for those glimpses of spring and fall in Texas. Out of sight is a kitchen led by Bruno Davaillon, who held a Michelin star as the executive chef of Ducasse's Mix in Vegas and has worked in numerous starred French establishments. His menus reflect that pedigree, heavy in classical preparations and luxury ingredients, but with room to add flourishes from outside tradition. An asparagus tasting menu ($75) -- one of five tastings offered each dinner service -- seemed an appropriate introduction to Davaillon's cuisine, selected for its nod to a personal favorite ingredient. First though was The Mansion G&T (86 Co. Ford's Gin, house-made tonic, kaffir lime leaf and grapefruit zest / $16), which was as good as any I've had, and happily nursed throughout the entire meal. Perfunctory bread service (lavash, onion rolls and mini baguette) followed, before a chilled amuse of white asparagus soup kicked off the courses as a de facto palate cleanser. The proper opener of scallop, veloute, asparagus and roe was another cold dish, but amped up significantly in flavor. Bite-sized raw scallop and trout roe paired perfectly with a superb asparagus veloute; the latter balanced between rich and freshness deftly. Next up was white asparagus, yuzu, hollandaise and sorrel, a classic combination with a few of those aforementioned flourishes. Proudly announced as imported from Holland (overindulgent, or a middle finger to the crazy seasonality of the home state), two jumbo asparagus spears were either braised or sous-vide, flanked by clouds of airy hollandaise. Another vegetable-forward dish with satisfying richness. The flawless risotto, prawn, asparagus and chive course was one of those welcome reminders that while I can cook risotto, I lack the advanced technique and resources of a fine-dining kitchen to make one such as this. An array of high-quality ingredients and skill that is out of my reach and thus, enviably enjoyable. The best course of the tasting and one of my favorites of this half year. Spring chicken, burrata, asparagus and piquillo was the most unexpected combination of the night. Roasted chicken dusted with a fresh parsley crust, the creaminess of fresh cheese, sharp 25-year-old balsamic and tangy peppers seemed haphazard, but it worked for me. Finishing the meal was semifreddo, rhubarb, vanilla and pistachio. A dessert right in my wheelhouse, with textures (pistachio crumble) and acids (balsamic again) that closed the tasting aptly. Triangles of chocolate and hazelnut and an acceptable cup of French press were left to enjoy while signing the check, a relative value for the level of service, setting and cooking. As a hotel property responsible for daily breakfast, lunch and dinner, nightly tastings, a la carte and a separate bar menu, the precision of a Sunday night tasting menu was impressive -- especially since it's supposedly Davaillon's day off. "Comfort" fine dining at a classic institution, recommended for at least one special occasion.

If you've eaten out in the Dallas area, you've probably tasted the work of Village Baking Company. For the last decade, the family-run business has added a French touch to the underdeveloped local bakery scene, mostly through wholesale to numerous restaurants, hotels, and weekend farmers market visits. As enjoyable as their breads are (I really like the Kalamata olive loaf), the small retail space they opened two years ago -- and all the classic French pastries made available there -- is the best way to experience their offerings. Prefaced by my limited knowledge of the highest French standard, everything eaten has been either delicious or more delicious. Rich, flaky palmiers ($3) that sometimes come two-for-one if you have trouble gaining bad weight. Very good almond croissant ($3.50). Specials like an apricot galette ($3.50), which was perfect. Beautifully caramelized and moist-inside financiers ($3.50). Kouign amanns ($3.50) with more butter than seems possible. And their canele ($3) is worth a visit by itself -- one of the best bites anywhere. It's not really a proper retail space, just a small section connected to their baking warehouse, and only wide enough for a person to look at the long counter stacked with rows of enticement. Seating is two outdoor picnic tables directly in the sun, and the parking lot is a small death trap"¦but they keep improving everything else, with longer hours than before (7 a.m. until 7 p.m.), drip coffee from Cultivar (the best roasters in Dallas), and an always personable, patient staffer. One of the simplest and best breakfasts in the city.

21. Too Many Listicles.

Ah, Mi Cocina: the deflating answer to where many born-and-raised Dallas residents eat their Tex-Mex. The go-to restaurant for an uninspired date night, misguided company happy hour, Angie Harmon sightings and impromptu family day care service, Mi Cocina is a beacon of dressed up mediocrity and absolutely loved by natives. Credit is due to corporate management, as the food is consistently average across a dozen-plus locations, assisted by service that is usually well-caring. It's an unoffensive meal that's often convenient to get to via mass SUV transit and rarely brings up a dissenting opinion. That last bit is the disturbing part, however, and makes me question every single opinion the state of Texas has had regarding its own trademark cuisines. One can get comparable Mexican or Tex-Mex in practically any developed suburb across America, often times much better and cheaper. The rants of transplanted Texans who return home for a "real Tex-Mex fix" at the beloved Mi Cocina would be more eye-rolling if it wasn't so hilarious. But hey, at least it's better than El Fenix. I can't vouch for the other drinks, but the flagship Mambo Taxis have always been strong. Or perhaps my already low tolerance for tequila has only worsened since college.

If you can navigate the byzantine construction routes and small army of tax collectors in police uniforms, Lanny's Alta Cocina Mexicana is a worthwhile reward in Fort Worth. Going on its ninth year, chef Lanny Lacarte (great grandson of Joe T. Garcia) has developed a style that is part Mexican, part Mediterranean, and joined together with French technique. The menu is set up for a la carte, but the tasting option ($60) is tough to pass up for value. Medjool date stuffed with goat cheese and wrapped in chorizo starts the meal, curiously arriving in a multi-pronged holder best known from Alinea. I suppose Lacarte just liked the aesthetic, since his cooking isn't similar at all. Regardless, a pleasant amuse. Green pozole, quail croquette was next, a comforting edition of the classic. I have little pozole expertise but taken solely as a soup course, well done. Quail croquette was a nice addition. Seared scallop, braised oxtail, celeriac and peas was interesting; the scallop was not the best quality, but I don't believe it mattered when up against a bully like oxtail. Celeriac and peas balanced the richness. Focaccia with olive oil emerged at this point, oven-warm and really delicious. Amped up by the spiced dipping oil. Lemon sole, kale, eggplant and tomatillo was my favorite dish of the night, showing off the full repertoire of Lacarte's cooking. Ratatouille, tomatillo sauce and fried kale was an intriguing and winning trio, aided by the smallest bits of bacon. A perfect combination of all the sensibilities shown prior. Duck breast, spelt and butternut squash risotto was a comedown from the previous dish; well-executed if not as exciting. Key lime goat cheese cake, raspberry beet puree finished the meal simply and to my preference (not too sweet). Followed by a Mexican shortbread cookie with the check. From what I understand the intimate dining room gets quite full on weekends, but go on a Tuesday or Wednesday and you can often have an entire section to yourself. I wish I lived a bit closer to visit regularly, because his latest menus always "read" amazingly (foie gras chile relleno?!).