The Skinny: Great little tapas oasis in the middle of the ever expanding River Oaks shopping district.
The Fat: I love a good tapas restaurant. You can have all the variety of, say, a buffet with all the quality of a specialty entree.
Tintos is in the old Back Door Sushi building, nestled behind La Madeline, Starbucks and a bevy of boutiques that line West Grey Blvd. It's a pretty unique location because it doesn't have a street front, it actually sits in the middle of a parking lot. That's only a problem if you don't know where it is. Otherwise, the location serves as a welcome retreat from the bustling street.
I originally thought the floor plan was a little odd; you walk in the door and you can either choose the dining room to the right with the cool guitarists and the lively bar or get stuck with the lame-o table on the dark quiet left side.
Well there weren't any tables left on the awesome side so we got shipped to the loser side. Soon I realized I was engrossed in conversation, I had a prime view of everyone that walked in the door (love to people watch) AND I could still hear the guitar in the background. Overall, I think any seat in the house is a good seat.
There was a very nice list of Spanish wines so my dining companion and I decided we would order a bottle. As we browsed over the list the waiter approached and mentioned three selections that he thought we would like. He then told us he'd be right back because he'd like to bring them to us. I thought, "wonderful, he's going to bring samples of three wines for us to try, that's a nice touch."
When he returned he was carrying three uncorked bottles...for us to look at. He caressed each bottle, Vanna White style, as he lovingly but vaguely described the taste and tannin content of each selection. I started laughing, a habit that I cannot seem to control in odd situations. We thanked him for his performance and ordered the middle bottle; the irresistible one with sexy curves and a pretty label. Later we discovered that it didn't taste half bad either.
For dinner we chose to order three hot tapas and a salad. There is a huge variety of selections to chose from, but we stuck to the Salmon Serrano, Caracoles Andaluces,Fritura de Mariscos and the Ensalada de Casa. Their staggered arrival over the course of five minutes really allowed each to have center stage for just a moment before the next plate arrived.
First out was the salmon, wrapped with Serrano Ham and drizzled with a creamy wine sauce. I asked for the salmon to be served rare, but when it arrived it was over done. Instead of encasing the small fillet with a thin piece of Serrano, they chose to tie a thick strip over just the midsection; I found it awkward and destructive to try to get a bite with both flavors together. The cream sauce was tasty and the fish fresh, but the dish could have been better executed.
Then came the caracoles or snails dish which was served in a large bowl with roasted artichokes, sun dried tomatoes, lemon butter, and herbed goat cheese. First of all, I LOVE SNAILS. It's already a bonus when they're on the menu. If they are not drenched in garlic and butter, then my next choice would be to eat them like this. What a hit. Each was delicate, tender and swimming in a luscious sauce that even non-snail lovers will enjoy dipping their bread into.
When the Fritura de Mariscos arrived, the pale little pile of lightly breaded and fried shrimp, calamari, and cod disappeared next to the other tapas. The lime habanero aioli was a nice, but predictable dipping sauce. While the dish was kind of boring, the quality was top-notch.
As for the salad, it's always good to get a bowl of greens to go with such rich little dishes. I would normally consider a "house salad" to be an ordinary concoction of bland greens peppered with run of the mill veggies. Far from ordinary the salad included organic grown arugula, figs, roasted almonds, bleu cheese and honey balsamic vinaigrette. For $8, it was a sweet treat.
We had a great time at Tintos. Our server was genuinely kind and attentive, the food was on the high end of the taste spectrum and the atmosphere was a perfect mix of cozy and lively; you gotta love that!
I adore tapas restaurants. They give you the option of trying multiple items while you share each taste with your friends. So fun. Nonetheless, it's still hard to pay $12 for a piece of salmon the size of my cell phone. This place was lovely and the portions sizes are great, but if we could get the price points down a dollar or two on some of these dishes, we'd have a home run on our hands.
Location: 2015 West Gray Street 713.522.1330
Showing posts with label Upscale. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Upscale. Show all posts
Sophia - Give it a Try
The Skinny: BYOB can appear on invitations to any number of delights; potlucks, frat parties, tailgating - or in this case - one of the best little restaurants in the Montrose.
The Fat: Do you ever crave a great meal without all the hoopla? I absolutely do. I love to get all dolled up for a night on the town just as much as I enjoy walking down the street in sandals for a casual meal. For those precious moments in between, Sophia reigns supreme.
A sloppy little coffee house where I used to lug my laptop and law books when I wanted to study away from the depressing library or the bustling neighborhood Starbucks, is the reincarnated home of a dining gem mere paces away from the Menil.
While under new ownership, this off-the-main-drive location has maintained the simple vibe that originally drew me there, but instead of free wi-fi and stale muffins, we have twinkling lights and fine food.
On my most recent visit, I teamed up with four of my friends for a casual end of week dinner. Once our party of five was complete, we opened some wine and feasted on the soft bread and luscious olive oil dip that awaited our arrival; simplicity at its finest.
As we all studied the menu, I could see that there were eight starters to choose from, four of which were calling my name. I'd been to Sophia before, but my on my first visit with a group, I arrived late after work and missed the spread of appetizers altogether. Needless to say I was teeming with excitement over this fresh opportunity, so I immediately suggested that we order a few appetizers for all of us to share.
We chose the Mussels, the Spicy Sauteed Calamari and the Spinach and Goat Cheese Dip.
The Mussels are a sure bet; fat and plump. These meaty morsels were steamed and flavored with rough chunks of apple smoked bacon, bits of fresh apple and an apple brandy sauce. There were enough for each of us to have 2-3 a piece and plenty of sauce left over for us to sop up with bread - a hit to say the least.
The "Spicy" Sauteed Calamari, while not remotely spicy, were tender and lovely nonetheless. The delicate pile of calamari was tossed with thin slices of Spanish Chorizo, topped with crispy Leek shavings and bathing in a shallow pool of light Habanero broth.
The Spinach and Goat Cheese dip was our last choice, something I thought would be a crowd pleaser, but surely not take center stage. Was I ever wrong...well, half wrong. It was a crowd pleaser alright, but the traditionally ordinary ingredients held their own against the mussels and calamari.
The tangy goat cheese and delicate spinach were folded together into a creamy mix drizzled with, none other than (my fave) truffle oil! Honestly, I had overlooked that ingredient on the menu and just agreed to order the dish because it sounded like something all five of us would enjoy.
When I took the first bite I actually said, "Oh my gosh, this is awesome. It tastes like...like...like there's a little bit of truffle oil in it" and there was. Fabulous Truffle Oil to the rescue! Once again, it proved to be the perfect addition to elevate an otherwise commonplace combination. It was so good, in fact, that once the crisp bread bowl that it had been served in was scraped clean, it was promptly cut apart and devoured as well.
Another round of the same would have served me well, but we sipped on our wine and eagerly went back to the menu to select our entrees.
Sophia offers a limited, but beautiful selection of entrees. You'll find about six menu items and maybe a couple of nightly specials. You won't feel deprived, however, because the short list includes all the essentials like chicken, pork, fish and beef. Just pick your poison and you'll find something there that fits the bill.
The last time I went, I ordered the Grilled Rib Eye, medium rare...yum. It's served with a heavenly pat of Cold Mushroom Compound butter, an amazing side of Blue Cheese Macaroni and steamed broccoli. Fantastic!
I did have to send my steak back for a quick flash. It was incredibly undercooked, but in my opinion, a "rare" mistake is better because it takes a far shorter time to rectify than a "well done" one!
Sometimes my friends and I will order one entree each and share so that we can try it all. Sadly, most of the group ordered the same thing so my sharing options were limited. One friend did branch out and order the Oven Roasted Half Chicken with Rosemary Pan Sauce. Luckily, I pried his hands away from his plate long enough to steal a bite.
I don't typically order basic chicken at a restaurant that offers things like Bacon Stuffed Pork Chops and Grilled Salmon with Tomato Caper Sauce, but this chicken was moist, tender and so delicious.
A party of five or more can have multiple effects on a small place like this. On my third visit, we were the first large party to arrive after two quiet couples had clearly made their way through wine and apps. We were a jovial bunch (not rowdy by any means, but spirited) and so, it was clear that we were changing the mood from "quiet and intimate" to "lively and energetic".
I'm not ashamed of the shift and we weren't made to feel bad about it, but be prepared for either experience. A restaurant with an open floor plan, concrete floors and bare walls ensures that the vibe and noise level will be determined by its patrons.
The service is friendly and the decor is clean and simple. There are booths for parties of two and four, and tables for four or more. The chairs are a bit stiff and wobbly and the tables sit a little too low, but you'll adjust without any long term discomfort.
A great feature about Sophia is that it's BYOB. That's a hard sell to a number of customers, but I am always shocked by that fact. Why a person wouldn't want to pick out their own wine, at their own price and bring it for dinner is beyond me. Each guest in my party was able to bring a unique selection and share it with the table - an amusing option for any dining experience.
I've been to Sophia several times now and each time I brought a great bottle of wine, partook in an array of appetizers, enjoyed an entree and shared a dessert or two - all for $25 to $40. If you love fine dining and are mindful of your budget, it's the best of both worlds!
Location: 1601 W Main St - 713.942.7970
P.S. Although it seemed that reservations were unnecessary on all of my visits, I cannot advise you on whether or not to make them. I always do on the weekends, just to be safe. But if you forget to make them, don't count this place out for a great weekend dinner. Even if it's a last minute idea...swing by and give it a try.
The Fat: Do you ever crave a great meal without all the hoopla? I absolutely do. I love to get all dolled up for a night on the town just as much as I enjoy walking down the street in sandals for a casual meal. For those precious moments in between, Sophia reigns supreme.
A sloppy little coffee house where I used to lug my laptop and law books when I wanted to study away from the depressing library or the bustling neighborhood Starbucks, is the reincarnated home of a dining gem mere paces away from the Menil.
While under new ownership, this off-the-main-drive location has maintained the simple vibe that originally drew me there, but instead of free wi-fi and stale muffins, we have twinkling lights and fine food.
On my most recent visit, I teamed up with four of my friends for a casual end of week dinner. Once our party of five was complete, we opened some wine and feasted on the soft bread and luscious olive oil dip that awaited our arrival; simplicity at its finest.
As we all studied the menu, I could see that there were eight starters to choose from, four of which were calling my name. I'd been to Sophia before, but my on my first visit with a group, I arrived late after work and missed the spread of appetizers altogether. Needless to say I was teeming with excitement over this fresh opportunity, so I immediately suggested that we order a few appetizers for all of us to share.
We chose the Mussels, the Spicy Sauteed Calamari and the Spinach and Goat Cheese Dip.
The Mussels are a sure bet; fat and plump. These meaty morsels were steamed and flavored with rough chunks of apple smoked bacon, bits of fresh apple and an apple brandy sauce. There were enough for each of us to have 2-3 a piece and plenty of sauce left over for us to sop up with bread - a hit to say the least.
The "Spicy" Sauteed Calamari, while not remotely spicy, were tender and lovely nonetheless. The delicate pile of calamari was tossed with thin slices of Spanish Chorizo, topped with crispy Leek shavings and bathing in a shallow pool of light Habanero broth.
The Spinach and Goat Cheese dip was our last choice, something I thought would be a crowd pleaser, but surely not take center stage. Was I ever wrong...well, half wrong. It was a crowd pleaser alright, but the traditionally ordinary ingredients held their own against the mussels and calamari.
The tangy goat cheese and delicate spinach were folded together into a creamy mix drizzled with, none other than (my fave) truffle oil! Honestly, I had overlooked that ingredient on the menu and just agreed to order the dish because it sounded like something all five of us would enjoy.
When I took the first bite I actually said, "Oh my gosh, this is awesome. It tastes like...like...like there's a little bit of truffle oil in it" and there was. Fabulous Truffle Oil to the rescue! Once again, it proved to be the perfect addition to elevate an otherwise commonplace combination. It was so good, in fact, that once the crisp bread bowl that it had been served in was scraped clean, it was promptly cut apart and devoured as well.
Another round of the same would have served me well, but we sipped on our wine and eagerly went back to the menu to select our entrees.
Sophia offers a limited, but beautiful selection of entrees. You'll find about six menu items and maybe a couple of nightly specials. You won't feel deprived, however, because the short list includes all the essentials like chicken, pork, fish and beef. Just pick your poison and you'll find something there that fits the bill.
The last time I went, I ordered the Grilled Rib Eye, medium rare...yum. It's served with a heavenly pat of Cold Mushroom Compound butter, an amazing side of Blue Cheese Macaroni and steamed broccoli. Fantastic!
I did have to send my steak back for a quick flash. It was incredibly undercooked, but in my opinion, a "rare" mistake is better because it takes a far shorter time to rectify than a "well done" one!
Sometimes my friends and I will order one entree each and share so that we can try it all. Sadly, most of the group ordered the same thing so my sharing options were limited. One friend did branch out and order the Oven Roasted Half Chicken with Rosemary Pan Sauce. Luckily, I pried his hands away from his plate long enough to steal a bite.
I don't typically order basic chicken at a restaurant that offers things like Bacon Stuffed Pork Chops and Grilled Salmon with Tomato Caper Sauce, but this chicken was moist, tender and so delicious.
A party of five or more can have multiple effects on a small place like this. On my third visit, we were the first large party to arrive after two quiet couples had clearly made their way through wine and apps. We were a jovial bunch (not rowdy by any means, but spirited) and so, it was clear that we were changing the mood from "quiet and intimate" to "lively and energetic".
I'm not ashamed of the shift and we weren't made to feel bad about it, but be prepared for either experience. A restaurant with an open floor plan, concrete floors and bare walls ensures that the vibe and noise level will be determined by its patrons.
The service is friendly and the decor is clean and simple. There are booths for parties of two and four, and tables for four or more. The chairs are a bit stiff and wobbly and the tables sit a little too low, but you'll adjust without any long term discomfort.
A great feature about Sophia is that it's BYOB. That's a hard sell to a number of customers, but I am always shocked by that fact. Why a person wouldn't want to pick out their own wine, at their own price and bring it for dinner is beyond me. Each guest in my party was able to bring a unique selection and share it with the table - an amusing option for any dining experience.
I've been to Sophia several times now and each time I brought a great bottle of wine, partook in an array of appetizers, enjoyed an entree and shared a dessert or two - all for $25 to $40. If you love fine dining and are mindful of your budget, it's the best of both worlds!
Location: 1601 W Main St - 713.942.7970
P.S. Although it seemed that reservations were unnecessary on all of my visits, I cannot advise you on whether or not to make them. I always do on the weekends, just to be safe. But if you forget to make them, don't count this place out for a great weekend dinner. Even if it's a last minute idea...swing by and give it a try.
Rainbow Lodge - Toss Up
The Skinny: Dine in a pseudo scenic mountain lodge in the middle of the Houston Heights.
The Fat: So, if you’re anything like me, you look up a restaurant on Google maps and try to find the coordinates in hopes of getting to your dining destination without a hitch, but even Google “street view” can’t prepare you for how beautiful the Rainbow Lodge is when you finally arrive. We turned the corner, noticed the valet sign and turned toward it, into the sweetest little driveway ever.
I felt like I was pulling into a cozy lodge in the mountains. There were wooden accents and darling hanging lamps to light our path to the front door. A gracious hostess, seeming to be awaiting our particular arrival, came to open the front door. We all thanked her as she held the door open for us to walk in toward the hostess stand. Then I felt the first ping; all that glitters isn’t gold.
Now, you’re probably thinking I’m about to slam this place, but I’m not...not entirely. I have a lot of nice things to tell you about Rainbow Lodge, but before I do, I just want to express that I hold fine dining establishments to a higher standard than I would of their more casual contemporaries…and rightfully so. So if you’re ready to hear the truth, the good and the bad, you’ll get that right here.
Come “rich” or come “people like me who can afford a great night out, now and again”, when you spend close to $100 per person (yummy wine included) to dine anywhere, near flawlessness is the goal. Remember when you had those instructors in college who, on the first day of class, told you that you started with an A+ at the beginning of the semester and it was up to you to keep it? Well, that’s my policy, so I walk in with the best in mind and I just expect a place to keep their grades up!
So the head hostess, I’m guessing, was chatting away on the phone. Maybe she was helping a potential customer; nonetheless, if there are two hostesses on duty, I would expect that either should be prepared to deal with new arrivals. That was not the case, so we stood patiently. It wasn’t a long wait, but it was an unnecessary one. After she finished her call, we were escorted through the lovely lodge-like labyrinth.
I called ahead to request a nice table. When I go out of my way to request a special table, I do so because I want to avoid the possibility of being placed next to kitchen doors and in odd corners, especially on a first visit. Oddly enough, we were lead to the smallest, coldest and most remote table of all.
At Rainbow Lodge, they assumed that my request meant that we wanted to avoid the adorable room with the fireplace, steer clear of the other spacious dining areas and be placed in the corner of the most narrow room ever. We had to endure the chill of a dripping AC unit and the traffic of patrons repeatedly walking by us to get to the patio door – both a mere six inches from our table - not what I would have selected if a customer made a point to ask for a great table. It almost seemed intentional. Even our neighbors asked to move to another table. To top it all off, there was a fire alarm right behind me and a faint, but unmistakable smell of…I hate to say it, ok, I won't say it...it just smelled funny.
Getting past the immediate distaste for our table, my friends and I thought we'd just begin with a bottle of wine while we perused the menu. We were one menu short for about five minutes, another annoyance.
As a courtesy to the people dining with me, I typically look over the menu ahead of time because it tends to take me AGES to decide what I want to eat. This problem occurs everywhere from taco stands to steak houses. This day happened to be my birthday, however, so I said “to hell with it, we’ll drink wine until I figure out what to order.” A great idea! They had a wonderful selection of wines and there were some fine ones that hovered in the $30-$50 range. We chose a nice South African red and waited for our water and bread.
So we talked and waited, laughed and waited, drank and waited and still no bread and water. We had been there for over thirty minutes without bread and water. Jesus could have performed a miracle in less time. We felt deprived and a little irked….but we continued to enjoy ourselves.
We decided on a couple of appetizers to share while we enjoyed our wine. We chose the spicy Hawaiian tuna tartare with the BBQ sauce consommé, English cucumber and heirloom radish and then the marinated lobster with ruby red grapefruit, avocado and orange blossom vinegar. Both sounded so fantastic, we were all thrilled with our selections.
When the appetizers arrived we started in immediately. Considering we were still waiting for bread and water, we dove in - without hesitation - for a taste. Even though I was a bit put off by the look of the tuna dish we'd been served, I stretched my fork toward it. What we assumed to be the tartare consisted of six small slices of albacore slathered in white foam. For the record, I hate foam. While the culinary garnish has made confident strides into mainstream preparation, I hate it. It looks like spit. I just don’t get it.
I realized, a moment later, that this simply could not have been what we ordered. Visions of chopped red tuna covered in deep maroon barbecue consommé kept haunting me. Had this tuna appetizer not been salty and tough, I may have graciously overlooked the mistake, but since it was, I felt fine pointing out the fact that we had been served the wrong dish.
When the waiter finally came by to check on us, far too long a wait in my opinion, he then proceeded to try and figure out -table side- how the mistake might have happened and then, after an exceedingly long dialogue, decided that the kitchen must have been at fault. I’m not a snob, I’m not a horrible customer, but if the plate is wrong…take the damn thing back. It was your fault or someone else’s fault, it wasn’t our fault so spare me the play by play.
The lobster appetizer was true to form. Pieces of the shellfish had been tossed about in chunks of fresh red grapefruit and avocado, just as described. Before we were finished our waiter brought out the tartare we’d actually ordered and another complimentary dish for the mistake. We hadn’t made a scene, we were all quite good-humored about the error and so his extra effort seemed genuine and unforced. Both were delicious.
Our waiter then offered to take us on a little tour of the lodge. I think he may have originally suggested the tour as peace offering for the appetizer blunder, but when we accepted, he realized how little time he was actually able to spend with us. Step by -rapid- step he conducted the tour at warp speed. My stilettos became liabilities, mere millimeters away from gapes in the old wooden floors during our fast paced walk-about. Again, we tried to enjoy it and forgave our waiter’s speed as he quickly and clumsily spilled us onto the patio, next to our table.
For the entrée, I was stumped. Hoping for inspiration, I asked the waiter to describe the specials a second time. The second time, however, major ingredients had seemingly changed. My friends and I agreed that they had initially been described differently. As if my own ordering issues weren't enough, this was tragic. I had no idea what I was going to choose. Nothing was jumping out at me on the menu, but I had to make a decision.
I let the boys order first. “I’ll have the Bryan Farm chicken wrapped in pancetta with the house made chicken sausage, baby vegetable fricassee, tender greens, and natural jus” I heard from one side. That sounded wonderful. Then I heard from the other side, “I’ll have the grilled rib eye of beef with the heirloom potatoes, cauliflower-brown butter puree and bordelaise sauce”. Gosh, that sounded fantastic too.
My turn...Ok, um, ok! “I’ll have that fish special you mentioned.” It sounded alright…I think. It was fish with some other stuff. Yep, pretty forgettable. When it arrived, the fish was delicate and flaky, but altogether flavorless, not special at all. Oh, so maybe you’re thinking I have GRASS IS GREENER syndrome? No, I just have a tongue…and it was bored with the fish “special”.
Oh, but the rib eye. Each bite (and I had a few) was delicious, perfectly cooked to the - ever illusive- medium rare that my dining companion had requested. It was bursting with flavor and I hardly remember the side dishes, for none were needed.
Then I pinched my first bite of my other friend’s dish. I have never in my life had a bit of chicken so fresh and tender. I almost lost my mind uttering its praise. Each chew reinforced its deliciousness. I think I may have even made my friend feel a little uncomfortable with my accolades, leading him to believe he had inappropriately ordered the dish that should have clearly been reserved for a Birthday Girl.
Apparently, Bryan Farm is a local poultry source that raises their chickens “with fresh air, sunshine, green grass, and wholesome feed” and the chicken is completely fresh…if you get my drift. I have never been so impressed by chicken. It was so moist and flavorful that it made me sorry for all the Chick-kin that have lost their lives for anything less.
After I'd happily helped my friends finish their entrees, we completed our meal with the most delectable chocolate crème brulee ever. Its crusty top layer was the perfect introduction to the creamy custard within. Talk about finishing on a high note! I could barely keep myself from licking the ramekin.
We took our time, walked the property with wine, chit-chatted and made the most of our evening at the Rainbow Lodge. I enjoyed the experience because I was with two of my best friends, the restaurant could not make or break that for me. I would hesitate to visit again, however.
The waiter mentioned that the chef was not there that night and I hope that had a lot to do with the sub par experience. Nonetheless, I expect that a responsible chef would either leave his restaurant in suitable hands or not leave at all.
Understandably, every place has a bad day. I’ve worked in enough great restaurants for enough years to know that every place has an “off” day. Sadly, it’s not about their “off” day, it’s about the patron's good experience and I expected a better result.
While I think it’s imperative to maintain a good attitude when things go awry, that doesn’t change my expectation of such a highly regarded establishment. I’ll forgive a thing or two, but not three or more...not all in one visit. I expected the food and the service to be superb. Overall, they dropped the ball.
The Fat: So, if you’re anything like me, you look up a restaurant on Google maps and try to find the coordinates in hopes of getting to your dining destination without a hitch, but even Google “street view” can’t prepare you for how beautiful the Rainbow Lodge is when you finally arrive. We turned the corner, noticed the valet sign and turned toward it, into the sweetest little driveway ever.
I felt like I was pulling into a cozy lodge in the mountains. There were wooden accents and darling hanging lamps to light our path to the front door. A gracious hostess, seeming to be awaiting our particular arrival, came to open the front door. We all thanked her as she held the door open for us to walk in toward the hostess stand. Then I felt the first ping; all that glitters isn’t gold.
Now, you’re probably thinking I’m about to slam this place, but I’m not...not entirely. I have a lot of nice things to tell you about Rainbow Lodge, but before I do, I just want to express that I hold fine dining establishments to a higher standard than I would of their more casual contemporaries…and rightfully so. So if you’re ready to hear the truth, the good and the bad, you’ll get that right here.
Come “rich” or come “people like me who can afford a great night out, now and again”, when you spend close to $100 per person (yummy wine included) to dine anywhere, near flawlessness is the goal. Remember when you had those instructors in college who, on the first day of class, told you that you started with an A+ at the beginning of the semester and it was up to you to keep it? Well, that’s my policy, so I walk in with the best in mind and I just expect a place to keep their grades up!
So the head hostess, I’m guessing, was chatting away on the phone. Maybe she was helping a potential customer; nonetheless, if there are two hostesses on duty, I would expect that either should be prepared to deal with new arrivals. That was not the case, so we stood patiently. It wasn’t a long wait, but it was an unnecessary one. After she finished her call, we were escorted through the lovely lodge-like labyrinth.
I called ahead to request a nice table. When I go out of my way to request a special table, I do so because I want to avoid the possibility of being placed next to kitchen doors and in odd corners, especially on a first visit. Oddly enough, we were lead to the smallest, coldest and most remote table of all.
At Rainbow Lodge, they assumed that my request meant that we wanted to avoid the adorable room with the fireplace, steer clear of the other spacious dining areas and be placed in the corner of the most narrow room ever. We had to endure the chill of a dripping AC unit and the traffic of patrons repeatedly walking by us to get to the patio door – both a mere six inches from our table - not what I would have selected if a customer made a point to ask for a great table. It almost seemed intentional. Even our neighbors asked to move to another table. To top it all off, there was a fire alarm right behind me and a faint, but unmistakable smell of…I hate to say it, ok, I won't say it...it just smelled funny.
Getting past the immediate distaste for our table, my friends and I thought we'd just begin with a bottle of wine while we perused the menu. We were one menu short for about five minutes, another annoyance.
As a courtesy to the people dining with me, I typically look over the menu ahead of time because it tends to take me AGES to decide what I want to eat. This problem occurs everywhere from taco stands to steak houses. This day happened to be my birthday, however, so I said “to hell with it, we’ll drink wine until I figure out what to order.” A great idea! They had a wonderful selection of wines and there were some fine ones that hovered in the $30-$50 range. We chose a nice South African red and waited for our water and bread.
So we talked and waited, laughed and waited, drank and waited and still no bread and water. We had been there for over thirty minutes without bread and water. Jesus could have performed a miracle in less time. We felt deprived and a little irked….but we continued to enjoy ourselves.
We decided on a couple of appetizers to share while we enjoyed our wine. We chose the spicy Hawaiian tuna tartare with the BBQ sauce consommé, English cucumber and heirloom radish and then the marinated lobster with ruby red grapefruit, avocado and orange blossom vinegar. Both sounded so fantastic, we were all thrilled with our selections.
When the appetizers arrived we started in immediately. Considering we were still waiting for bread and water, we dove in - without hesitation - for a taste. Even though I was a bit put off by the look of the tuna dish we'd been served, I stretched my fork toward it. What we assumed to be the tartare consisted of six small slices of albacore slathered in white foam. For the record, I hate foam. While the culinary garnish has made confident strides into mainstream preparation, I hate it. It looks like spit. I just don’t get it.
I realized, a moment later, that this simply could not have been what we ordered. Visions of chopped red tuna covered in deep maroon barbecue consommé kept haunting me. Had this tuna appetizer not been salty and tough, I may have graciously overlooked the mistake, but since it was, I felt fine pointing out the fact that we had been served the wrong dish.
When the waiter finally came by to check on us, far too long a wait in my opinion, he then proceeded to try and figure out -table side- how the mistake might have happened and then, after an exceedingly long dialogue, decided that the kitchen must have been at fault. I’m not a snob, I’m not a horrible customer, but if the plate is wrong…take the damn thing back. It was your fault or someone else’s fault, it wasn’t our fault so spare me the play by play.
The lobster appetizer was true to form. Pieces of the shellfish had been tossed about in chunks of fresh red grapefruit and avocado, just as described. Before we were finished our waiter brought out the tartare we’d actually ordered and another complimentary dish for the mistake. We hadn’t made a scene, we were all quite good-humored about the error and so his extra effort seemed genuine and unforced. Both were delicious.
Our waiter then offered to take us on a little tour of the lodge. I think he may have originally suggested the tour as peace offering for the appetizer blunder, but when we accepted, he realized how little time he was actually able to spend with us. Step by -rapid- step he conducted the tour at warp speed. My stilettos became liabilities, mere millimeters away from gapes in the old wooden floors during our fast paced walk-about. Again, we tried to enjoy it and forgave our waiter’s speed as he quickly and clumsily spilled us onto the patio, next to our table.
For the entrée, I was stumped. Hoping for inspiration, I asked the waiter to describe the specials a second time. The second time, however, major ingredients had seemingly changed. My friends and I agreed that they had initially been described differently. As if my own ordering issues weren't enough, this was tragic. I had no idea what I was going to choose. Nothing was jumping out at me on the menu, but I had to make a decision.
I let the boys order first. “I’ll have the Bryan Farm chicken wrapped in pancetta with the house made chicken sausage, baby vegetable fricassee, tender greens, and natural jus” I heard from one side. That sounded wonderful. Then I heard from the other side, “I’ll have the grilled rib eye of beef with the heirloom potatoes, cauliflower-brown butter puree and bordelaise sauce”. Gosh, that sounded fantastic too.
My turn...Ok, um, ok! “I’ll have that fish special you mentioned.” It sounded alright…I think. It was fish with some other stuff. Yep, pretty forgettable. When it arrived, the fish was delicate and flaky, but altogether flavorless, not special at all. Oh, so maybe you’re thinking I have GRASS IS GREENER syndrome? No, I just have a tongue…and it was bored with the fish “special”.
Oh, but the rib eye. Each bite (and I had a few) was delicious, perfectly cooked to the - ever illusive- medium rare that my dining companion had requested. It was bursting with flavor and I hardly remember the side dishes, for none were needed.
Then I pinched my first bite of my other friend’s dish. I have never in my life had a bit of chicken so fresh and tender. I almost lost my mind uttering its praise. Each chew reinforced its deliciousness. I think I may have even made my friend feel a little uncomfortable with my accolades, leading him to believe he had inappropriately ordered the dish that should have clearly been reserved for a Birthday Girl.
Apparently, Bryan Farm is a local poultry source that raises their chickens “with fresh air, sunshine, green grass, and wholesome feed” and the chicken is completely fresh…if you get my drift. I have never been so impressed by chicken. It was so moist and flavorful that it made me sorry for all the Chick-kin that have lost their lives for anything less.
After I'd happily helped my friends finish their entrees, we completed our meal with the most delectable chocolate crème brulee ever. Its crusty top layer was the perfect introduction to the creamy custard within. Talk about finishing on a high note! I could barely keep myself from licking the ramekin.
We took our time, walked the property with wine, chit-chatted and made the most of our evening at the Rainbow Lodge. I enjoyed the experience because I was with two of my best friends, the restaurant could not make or break that for me. I would hesitate to visit again, however.
The waiter mentioned that the chef was not there that night and I hope that had a lot to do with the sub par experience. Nonetheless, I expect that a responsible chef would either leave his restaurant in suitable hands or not leave at all.
Understandably, every place has a bad day. I’ve worked in enough great restaurants for enough years to know that every place has an “off” day. Sadly, it’s not about their “off” day, it’s about the patron's good experience and I expected a better result.
While I think it’s imperative to maintain a good attitude when things go awry, that doesn’t change my expectation of such a highly regarded establishment. I’ll forgive a thing or two, but not three or more...not all in one visit. I expected the food and the service to be superb. Overall, they dropped the ball.
Charivari - Give it a Try
The Skinny: Step into a time machine and experience fine dining, before it was run of the mill.
The Fat: A co-worker, who loves food as much as I do, recommended that I try this little restaurant, nestled in a mid-town plaza. It’s a restaurant that he and his equally food loving wife dine at regularly.
When I checked out the menu on the internet, I was pumped by the great selections. I have to admit that I was also drawn by two other exciting features; the fact that the chef is from Transylvania and (maybe my judgment was a little more superficial on this one, but) the super-sweet picture of the chef, striking a "tough guy" pose in his dining room. Gotta love that.
My dining companion and I made reservations for Friday night. While there were plenty of seats available when we arrived, we made late reservations and so I can only imagine that during peak hours, reservations are quite necessary.
To get to our table, we were ushered through the small, classic dining room. It reminded me of the "fancy" restaurants I went to when I was a little girl; white linens, random paintings, flowers on the table, etc. The decor was fairly basic, but genuine.
With a thick and charming accent our petite waitress came up to the table and asked us if we'd like some water - sparkling or regular. As we waited for our regular water and a bottle of Syrah, I had a great opportunity to check out the room and, of course, the guests.
With the exception of one table of 20-somethings, the place was filled with 60-somethings. That being said, if you're looking to "see and be seen" by the younger crowd, skip this place and try the bar down the strip.
We started with the escargot; I'm a sucker for it. I prefer the luscious snail drenched in a traditional garlic butter mix, but I went for this herb and Burgundy infused variation. It was tasty, but needed a little salt.
Before it arrived, we were given a modest basket of white and multi-grain bread with a side of, what looked like, butter. As it turned out the "butter" was actually a salmon roe mousse made of whipped olive oil, roe, and bread crumbs. The description of the ingredients puzzled me because it tasted like none of those things, but more like an airy and very mild version of hummus. In any case, it was delicious, simple and we liked it. If we'd had more bread, we would have eaten it all.
Now, here's where the "fancy" part fits in. After our appetizer plates were cleared, we were each given a crisp wafer topped with an olive tapenade. We didn't order this item, it was just a treat; larger than the standard amuse bouche, smaller than an appetizer. It was just part of the meticulous and well thought out process.
In between (silver dome covered) courses, we were served a tart sorbet palate cleanser. First of all, who uses silver domes to cover and present food anymore? Nonetheless, you had to give it to this place for promoting the frill of exquisite service. While seemingly gratuitous, it was a lovely flare to the, otherwise typical, routine.
I ordered the Seafood-Choucroute; a steaming hot plate of Red Fish, Lobster and Salmon Filet served on a sultry bed of Riesling Sauerkraut and topped with an amazing reduction of Riesling sauce. My plate was lacking the vibrant color that many restaurants try to add to their dishes with squirts of superfluous sauces and sprigs of unnecessary herbs, but where this dish was lacking in presentation, it made up for in flavor - and isn't flavor what we really want?
Just after my entree was de-domed, my server proudly uncovered a miniature dome with the three parsley speckled potato chunks. I was underwhelmed by the pale side order of steamed potatoes, but mildly amused that my server made an enormous deal out of plating them for me, table side. The gesture was appreciated though. After all, it's rare to be surrounded by a staff that seems more intent on providing top-notch service than getting off of work in time to join their friends at the local watering hole.
Now, I'm not usually wild about sauerkraut, but I could barely keep my fork away from this perfectly prepared and lusciously seasoned mound of sauerkraut. It nearly overshadowed the delicious trio of seafood that encircled it. Finely sliced and seared to perfection, both the red fish and salmon were a delight.
The small lobster tail - while moderately undercooked - was beautiful as well, which is why it was so hard to ask my adorable server to have that portion of the dish re-fired.
While I don’t send back food often, (and after my classic hesitation) I lean toward enjoying my meal versus offending the chef. Furthermore, I’d really like to think that most great chefs would prefer to take a culinary jab than sacrifice perfection for their guests.
The waitress gladly scooped it up and swiftly returned it, cooked to perfection. The chef appeared, shortly thereafter, to apologize. It's always uncomfortable when they come out to apologize, but in a situation like this, I’d almost be upset if he hadn’t.
My dining companion had the Veal "Zurich"; thin strips of Veal sautéed in a decadent reduction of Sherry Wine and smothered with fresh mushrooms and herbs. It was great, but I would not have traded my dish for it.
Charivari serves a ton of other incredible entrees like the famous Wiener Schnitzel, the Saffron Wine Grilled Shrimp and the Filet Mignon with Cognac-Madagascar Green Pepper Sauce. While clearing my plate - from appetizer to entrée - left little room for dessert, I’ve heard they have an outstanding selection of sweets.
Here’s the deal - if you feel like it’s been far too long since you've visited a restaurant where all the I's are dotted, T's are crossed and the prices fit the preparation, you’ll get your fix at Charivari.
Location: 2521 Bagby 713.521.7231
The Fat: A co-worker, who loves food as much as I do, recommended that I try this little restaurant, nestled in a mid-town plaza. It’s a restaurant that he and his equally food loving wife dine at regularly.
When I checked out the menu on the internet, I was pumped by the great selections. I have to admit that I was also drawn by two other exciting features; the fact that the chef is from Transylvania and (maybe my judgment was a little more superficial on this one, but) the super-sweet picture of the chef, striking a "tough guy" pose in his dining room. Gotta love that.
My dining companion and I made reservations for Friday night. While there were plenty of seats available when we arrived, we made late reservations and so I can only imagine that during peak hours, reservations are quite necessary.
To get to our table, we were ushered through the small, classic dining room. It reminded me of the "fancy" restaurants I went to when I was a little girl; white linens, random paintings, flowers on the table, etc. The decor was fairly basic, but genuine.
With a thick and charming accent our petite waitress came up to the table and asked us if we'd like some water - sparkling or regular. As we waited for our regular water and a bottle of Syrah, I had a great opportunity to check out the room and, of course, the guests.
With the exception of one table of 20-somethings, the place was filled with 60-somethings. That being said, if you're looking to "see and be seen" by the younger crowd, skip this place and try the bar down the strip.
We started with the escargot; I'm a sucker for it. I prefer the luscious snail drenched in a traditional garlic butter mix, but I went for this herb and Burgundy infused variation. It was tasty, but needed a little salt.
Before it arrived, we were given a modest basket of white and multi-grain bread with a side of, what looked like, butter. As it turned out the "butter" was actually a salmon roe mousse made of whipped olive oil, roe, and bread crumbs. The description of the ingredients puzzled me because it tasted like none of those things, but more like an airy and very mild version of hummus. In any case, it was delicious, simple and we liked it. If we'd had more bread, we would have eaten it all.
Now, here's where the "fancy" part fits in. After our appetizer plates were cleared, we were each given a crisp wafer topped with an olive tapenade. We didn't order this item, it was just a treat; larger than the standard amuse bouche, smaller than an appetizer. It was just part of the meticulous and well thought out process.
In between (silver dome covered) courses, we were served a tart sorbet palate cleanser. First of all, who uses silver domes to cover and present food anymore? Nonetheless, you had to give it to this place for promoting the frill of exquisite service. While seemingly gratuitous, it was a lovely flare to the, otherwise typical, routine.
I ordered the Seafood-Choucroute; a steaming hot plate of Red Fish, Lobster and Salmon Filet served on a sultry bed of Riesling Sauerkraut and topped with an amazing reduction of Riesling sauce. My plate was lacking the vibrant color that many restaurants try to add to their dishes with squirts of superfluous sauces and sprigs of unnecessary herbs, but where this dish was lacking in presentation, it made up for in flavor - and isn't flavor what we really want?
Just after my entree was de-domed, my server proudly uncovered a miniature dome with the three parsley speckled potato chunks. I was underwhelmed by the pale side order of steamed potatoes, but mildly amused that my server made an enormous deal out of plating them for me, table side. The gesture was appreciated though. After all, it's rare to be surrounded by a staff that seems more intent on providing top-notch service than getting off of work in time to join their friends at the local watering hole.
Now, I'm not usually wild about sauerkraut, but I could barely keep my fork away from this perfectly prepared and lusciously seasoned mound of sauerkraut. It nearly overshadowed the delicious trio of seafood that encircled it. Finely sliced and seared to perfection, both the red fish and salmon were a delight.
The small lobster tail - while moderately undercooked - was beautiful as well, which is why it was so hard to ask my adorable server to have that portion of the dish re-fired.
While I don’t send back food often, (and after my classic hesitation) I lean toward enjoying my meal versus offending the chef. Furthermore, I’d really like to think that most great chefs would prefer to take a culinary jab than sacrifice perfection for their guests.
The waitress gladly scooped it up and swiftly returned it, cooked to perfection. The chef appeared, shortly thereafter, to apologize. It's always uncomfortable when they come out to apologize, but in a situation like this, I’d almost be upset if he hadn’t.
My dining companion had the Veal "Zurich"; thin strips of Veal sautéed in a decadent reduction of Sherry Wine and smothered with fresh mushrooms and herbs. It was great, but I would not have traded my dish for it.
Charivari serves a ton of other incredible entrees like the famous Wiener Schnitzel, the Saffron Wine Grilled Shrimp and the Filet Mignon with Cognac-Madagascar Green Pepper Sauce. While clearing my plate - from appetizer to entrée - left little room for dessert, I’ve heard they have an outstanding selection of sweets.
Here’s the deal - if you feel like it’s been far too long since you've visited a restaurant where all the I's are dotted, T's are crossed and the prices fit the preparation, you’ll get your fix at Charivari.
Location: 2521 Bagby 713.521.7231
Sambuca - Give it a Try
The Skinny: For a well rounded night of good service, perfectly executed fare and some lively contemporary music, get Dolled Up and head Downtown.
The Fat: I'll admit, I'm not a huge fan of lunging myself into the Houston mess on the weekends. Why should I venture Downtown when there are more than enough great places in Montrose, River Oaks and The Heights where I won't have to pay $15 to park my car and walk 10 blocks to my destination? However, there are a few places that make the madness well worth it.
I've visited Sambuca about five times over the past few years. Sometimes I'll go on a date, other times I will step in with a group of friends. Whomever may accompany you, this is one of the Houston establishments that really makes you feel like you're living it up. Although they serve a fantastic lunch menu, it's just one of those places you should visit when the sun goes down.
The restaurant has two main levels, each cozy in their own right. Dark accessories and leopard print upholstery pepper the restaurant. Tables for larger groups tend to be upstairs or set off to the side. Some tables are placed right in front of the stage. If you want to feel like part of the action, ask to be seated there. Late night, they move some of the stage-front tables to allow more space for a dance floor. I have been seated upstairs and, while it's the perfect retreat for an intimate occasion, the downstairs level is by far my favorite place to sit.
If you're there to dine, I highly recommend making reservations. There's a swanky bar area where you can wait for an opening or just sip on Martinis, but if you want a table you may as well reserve a spot. My only suggestion would be that you make a specific request for where you'd like to sit.
The last time I made a reservation, I asked for a booth. Requesting a booth is usually a great idea because each one is placed along the perimeter and is curved to face the main dining area. When we arrived, however, all the downstairs booths were occupied, so we were shuffled upstairs to the one remaining booth. We felt quite isolated from the rest of the restaurant. For a reservation with a special request for booth, you'd think they would have asked us if we wanted to sit at THE ONLY BOOTH UPSTAIRS...alone...away from the rest of the crowd. While it was the perfect place for a wild make-out session, (don't get me wrong, I'm pretty adventurous) it was only 6pm and we had a show to attend at 8pm. So shoot me if I didn't want to wrinkle my dress before the Symphony!
Ah, the food. For starters, the Carpaccio in the Raw is a must. This duo of delicate salmon and beef was drizzled with orange and balsamic vinaigrette, respectively. So sublime.
Oh, and I'm always up for a little escargot too. The escargot at Sambuca is an outstanding selection. While I much prefer the basic preparation of butter, garlic and little else, this appetizer was just as alluring because it was smothered in lemon, garlic, spinach and smoked Gouda. They're also topped with small puff pastry pieces, which were flavorless additions that detracted from the dish. In fact, I think it would be best if the escargot were served without them. I promptly removed them from my plate. Instead I used some of Sambuca's crusty bread to sop up the ridiculously cheesy goodness that was left on my plate after I inhaled the snails.
But do sop up the remnants. Don't be shy, what's the point? This is food, people. It's meant to be enjoyed.
You'll surely be satisfied with any entree you order, but I tend to lean toward the steak. I always love a good fish, but I cook a lot at home and so the last thing I wanted was another salmon dish. I'm in it for the meat. The Petite Filet (to be exact) was more than enough for me, but a larger version is available. If there were side dishes on the plate (which there were) I overlooked them entirely. The meat had all my attention...and rightly so.
The great thing about the meat at Sambuca is that, while it is always perfectly prepared (medium rare, baby) they top each steak variety with it's own little pat of seasoned butter. Who doesn't like butter? Mine came with a slice of Gorgonzola Walnut butter. My date's New York Strip came with Roasted Garlic and Thyme butter...oh my god...sh!
P.S. I never make it around to dessert at Sambuca, but I'm sure it's delicious. The last thing I remember is that they never offer enough chocolate dessert selections...but with a precursor of good wine, good music, and (if you're lucky) good company, I'm thinking that a fantastic dessert will follow suit.
Location: 909 Texas Avenue (713) 224-5299
Photo courtesy of Kenny Haner
The Fat: I'll admit, I'm not a huge fan of lunging myself into the Houston mess on the weekends. Why should I venture Downtown when there are more than enough great places in Montrose, River Oaks and The Heights where I won't have to pay $15 to park my car and walk 10 blocks to my destination? However, there are a few places that make the madness well worth it.
I've visited Sambuca about five times over the past few years. Sometimes I'll go on a date, other times I will step in with a group of friends. Whomever may accompany you, this is one of the Houston establishments that really makes you feel like you're living it up. Although they serve a fantastic lunch menu, it's just one of those places you should visit when the sun goes down.
The restaurant has two main levels, each cozy in their own right. Dark accessories and leopard print upholstery pepper the restaurant. Tables for larger groups tend to be upstairs or set off to the side. Some tables are placed right in front of the stage. If you want to feel like part of the action, ask to be seated there. Late night, they move some of the stage-front tables to allow more space for a dance floor. I have been seated upstairs and, while it's the perfect retreat for an intimate occasion, the downstairs level is by far my favorite place to sit.
If you're there to dine, I highly recommend making reservations. There's a swanky bar area where you can wait for an opening or just sip on Martinis, but if you want a table you may as well reserve a spot. My only suggestion would be that you make a specific request for where you'd like to sit.
The last time I made a reservation, I asked for a booth. Requesting a booth is usually a great idea because each one is placed along the perimeter and is curved to face the main dining area. When we arrived, however, all the downstairs booths were occupied, so we were shuffled upstairs to the one remaining booth. We felt quite isolated from the rest of the restaurant. For a reservation with a special request for booth, you'd think they would have asked us if we wanted to sit at THE ONLY BOOTH UPSTAIRS...alone...away from the rest of the crowd. While it was the perfect place for a wild make-out session, (don't get me wrong, I'm pretty adventurous) it was only 6pm and we had a show to attend at 8pm. So shoot me if I didn't want to wrinkle my dress before the Symphony!
Ah, the food. For starters, the Carpaccio in the Raw is a must. This duo of delicate salmon and beef was drizzled with orange and balsamic vinaigrette, respectively. So sublime.
Oh, and I'm always up for a little escargot too. The escargot at Sambuca is an outstanding selection. While I much prefer the basic preparation of butter, garlic and little else, this appetizer was just as alluring because it was smothered in lemon, garlic, spinach and smoked Gouda. They're also topped with small puff pastry pieces, which were flavorless additions that detracted from the dish. In fact, I think it would be best if the escargot were served without them. I promptly removed them from my plate. Instead I used some of Sambuca's crusty bread to sop up the ridiculously cheesy goodness that was left on my plate after I inhaled the snails.
But do sop up the remnants. Don't be shy, what's the point? This is food, people. It's meant to be enjoyed.
You'll surely be satisfied with any entree you order, but I tend to lean toward the steak. I always love a good fish, but I cook a lot at home and so the last thing I wanted was another salmon dish. I'm in it for the meat. The Petite Filet (to be exact) was more than enough for me, but a larger version is available. If there were side dishes on the plate (which there were) I overlooked them entirely. The meat had all my attention...and rightly so.
The great thing about the meat at Sambuca is that, while it is always perfectly prepared (medium rare, baby) they top each steak variety with it's own little pat of seasoned butter. Who doesn't like butter? Mine came with a slice of Gorgonzola Walnut butter. My date's New York Strip came with Roasted Garlic and Thyme butter...oh my god...sh!
P.S. I never make it around to dessert at Sambuca, but I'm sure it's delicious. The last thing I remember is that they never offer enough chocolate dessert selections...but with a precursor of good wine, good music, and (if you're lucky) good company, I'm thinking that a fantastic dessert will follow suit.
Location: 909 Texas Avenue (713) 224-5299
Photo courtesy of Kenny Haner
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