Sociologists who from time to time peer into the American psyche invariably describe a selfish, avaricious people. Yet clearly they’ve failed to probe far enough, for tactless one-upmanship is only the most visible layer of our culture. Deep down, we’re a people more inclined to self-immolation than self-love. Who among…
It’s always an iffy proposition to wander into a dining room as desolate as a godforsaken rock formation. Sure, it could be an undiscovered sliver of raw sublimity, a hidden bit of dazzle. But it could also be a puff of culinary stench of such potency that it keeps diners…
Our range guide was a veteran of the first Gulf War, so it wasn’t hard to steer the conversation to the lingering mysteries of the sequel. Saddam? “Dead,” he said tersely. WMD’s? “Buried deep in the desert,” came his reply. The paltry resistance of the vaunted Republican Guard? Only a…
Monica’s Aca Y Alla can be called a lot of things. But hell? Yet that’s how owner Monica Greene describes it, as she attempts to compare the new soundproof room she plans to open in August in a former furniture store next to the restaurant. She calls the room Raziel,…
A few millennia ago, the Spartans settled a dispute by sending a single warrior to face the enemy’s fiercest man in what ancient texts called “the battle of the champions.” To the victor went control of the Peloponnisos. We devised a similar test in response to this week’s Burning Question:…
At the heart of Smith & Wollensky is this slogan: “A steak house to end all arguments.” This comes clipped from a headline over a 1997 New York Times S&W steak house review by critic Ruth Reichl. The piece centered on an annual argument in her family over three New…
Right now, it’s a ghost town. Not one born of death and abandonment, but of birth and anticipated growth. There are a few things: a children’s store, an Asian fusion restaurant called Café Beignet and a toy store. But more is on the way. Much more. Above the storefronts rest…
Imagine a film set in the badlands of Japanese cattle country. Our movie follows a bunch of tough hombres–John Wayne, Gary Cooper, Randolph Scott–fending off Mothra and the occasional kamikaze, massaging the herd after a few beers and gathering around the campfire to sing karaoke while “Cookie” whittles up a…
It wasn’t long ago that chef Tim Byres was tugged from New York City into Dallas to fiddle with noodles at Tom Tom Noodle House, the casual West Village Asian restaurant developed by Triple R Group. But Byres, who also crafted the menu for Triple R’s Nikita, wasn’t able to…
He pulls it out from a manila folder stuffed with other old photographs. “This is me,” says sushi evangelist Scott Melton, pointing to one of three boys in short-sleeved white shirts with slivers of black ties slicing across their surfaces. “It’s kind of Lee Harvey Oswaldish, isn’t it?” It was…
It takes a peculiar form of eccentricity to staple a gelato hut, a Hawaiian fast-causal joint and a nightclub into one concept, but that’s what Dallas entrepreneur Ben Dai did. By mid-July, Dai and general manager Lon Goodwin will be operating a triplicate joined at the hip in Mockingbird Station:…
There are three of them in Dallas. Thai is one. Indian is another. And Italian. OK, there’s Chinese, but that’s an easy one to decipher: no Chinatown. The former are three types of cuisine that, with rare exceptions, stumble in Dallas. No matter who inspires the food or where they’re…
Etymology really bothers us. We should first mention that etymology has nothing to do with insects and everything to do with the origins of words and their transformation through common use–although when we expressed our feelings toward this particular field of study, our editor admitted he, too, disliked bugs. (Editor’s…
Indian cuisine is experiencing a mini-boom of sorts, what with the recent openings of Clay Pit Grill & Curry House in Addison and Dawat in Richardson. Now Saffron House, another Addison entrant, stuffed with “the finest replicas of Indian art,” makes it a trio. At Saffron House, “master chefs…transform meals…
The first set arrived at our table riddled with little pockets of grease. Pools, really, shimmering gold, some shallow, some preposterously deep. Pappadam is like horribly scarred skin with creases and sharp ripples and craggy divots carved from an adolescent scourge. These flat, fried lentil flour discs from Southern India…
It’s rare that you see buffet spreads this enormous outside of places where slot bells provide the background music. But Osaka Steak & Grill’s all-you-can-eat Japanese terminal is big–aircraft carrier big. Get in there early before the dinner rush reaches its fever point, and you’ll discover a din of world…
The Web site claims his knack for choosing an appropriate dinner wine was one of his responsibilities as “a board member for a worldwide corporation.” And we wonder why the Enron and Tyco debacles snuck under the board of directors’ schnozzles. The site goes on to explain that Eddie Merlot’s…
It’s a curious turn of events. First, we’re told men and women emerged from the same body about 6,000 years ago, diverging in aptitude only after an unfortunate encounter with fresh fruit–a chronology approved by three of the past four presidents. Now, we learn from the more credible talk-show circuit…
Wine bars and Dallas don’t mix well, at least not as seamlessly as silicone and trial lawyers. A sweep through Dallas’ wine-bar experiments–Tony’s, Cork, Cru, the flight deck near the vestibule in Nick & Sam’s–reveals half-hearted execution or an emphasis on wine as fashion accessory. Maybe that’s why Mercy is…
Southlake is one of those formerly odd communities that had restrictive liquor laws. Now that they’ve been relaxed, some entrepreneurs are taking advantage in the new Town Square development in the heart of the town, a kind of shake-and-bake downtown for the bedroom community. Into the Glass is one of…
What Dallas lacks is a truly tight, sophisticated dining and lounge experience on the level of New York or Paris or London. How many times have we heard that? And there’s no shortage of budding and established operators who insist they have the formula to finally fill this niche. Yet…
At first, veteran restaurateur Charlie Venis says Opa! is the Greek equivalent expression of hee-haw. “Well,” he corrects, “what it really means is ‘let’s enjoy life.’ Get excited.” The latter is what we did when our server shouted “Opa!” as he flicked his Bic above the saganaki, setting it ablaze…
