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 Valet. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Valet. Show all posts
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.
Dolce Vita - Give it a Try
The Skinny: If you love familiarity as much as you love surprises, get a gourmet pizza from Dolce Vita.
The Fat: When I was still in law school, an old family friend from Tampa - who now practices in Houston - used to scoop me up on Wednesday nights and take me out to dinner with all of his lawyer buddies. I was too consumed with the homework, on which I'd always fallen dangerously behind, to really care about what or where I ate dinner any given night of the week. Basically any place that wasn't Jack in the Box was a welcomed treat. Wednesday after Wednesday, we would dine at some of Houston's favorites, but one place stood out from all the rest. Dolce Vita.
The converted old house on Westheimer is fully equipped with a fine staff, a great drink menu and a perfectly adorable selection of inventive pizzas, delectable cheeses, creative vegetable dishes and unique salads.
You know when you fall in love for the first time and everything before that moment becomes a blur, a mere cliffnote of who you used to be? Well that's sort of how I felt the first time I experienced a Taleggio pizza.
I don't even think I'd ordered it, but somehow it appeared on my table or on someones table nearby. Either way, I was hypnotized. The intoxicating aroma permeated everything around me, slowly converting the quaint Montrose restaurant into the mothership of every pizza desire I would have from that moment on.
The Taleggio, named after the fantastic Italian cheese that oozes with a brie like fluidity all over the warm crust, carries a strong aroma balanced by a smooth and mildly fruity flavor. The thin crust is topped with fresh arugula, ripe pear slices and finally - and most importantly - drizzled with an erotically pungent truffle oil.
I often joke that when I order that pizza, everyone around me hates me for one of two reasons; they're upset that they can't smell anything other than my pizza or they're jealous that they don't have my pizza. Believe me, it's the latter. Alright, alright...so there are 12 other pizzas on the menu, but I gotta rave about my fave!
You'll find other fun pizzas like the Vongole (clams, garlic, cherry tomatoes and mozzarella) and the Zucca (butternut squash, panchetta and smoked mozzarella.) And for the creatures of habit, there are creative versions of the classics like the Siciliana (olives and capers) and the Calabrese (spicy salami) which is just a gourmet spin on a pepperoni pizza.
Dolce Vita also serves a limited number of colorful entrees and pastas that will satisfy any non pizza lover. Be sure to try my favorite Verdura; Shaved Brussel Sprouts with Pecorino. This delicious starter is dense, flavorful and will totally change your opinion of the historically blackballed sprout.
While it's not a super casual pizza joint, it does offer a relaxed vibe for a fairly diverse clientele. The prices are fair. You can share an appetizer, a pizza and two glasses of wine for about $50. So if you want to jump up a notch or two from your regular pizza routine and enjoy a bit of Italian authenticity, this is your place.
P.S. Parking is pretty black and white at Dolce Vita. If you want your car parked in a parking lot, go valet all the way. If you don't mind a super short stroll (my personal favorite - heck, sometimes I even walk from home!) find a little parking spot in the neighborhood just behind the restaurant. Be mindful of the "No Parking" signs and you'll be fine. The way this place gets jammed up on a good night, you'll be able to walk to your car long before valet could get it to you!
Location: 500 Westheimer 713.520.8222
The Fat: When I was still in law school, an old family friend from Tampa - who now practices in Houston - used to scoop me up on Wednesday nights and take me out to dinner with all of his lawyer buddies. I was too consumed with the homework, on which I'd always fallen dangerously behind, to really care about what or where I ate dinner any given night of the week. Basically any place that wasn't Jack in the Box was a welcomed treat. Wednesday after Wednesday, we would dine at some of Houston's favorites, but one place stood out from all the rest. Dolce Vita.
The converted old house on Westheimer is fully equipped with a fine staff, a great drink menu and a perfectly adorable selection of inventive pizzas, delectable cheeses, creative vegetable dishes and unique salads.
You know when you fall in love for the first time and everything before that moment becomes a blur, a mere cliffnote of who you used to be? Well that's sort of how I felt the first time I experienced a Taleggio pizza.
I don't even think I'd ordered it, but somehow it appeared on my table or on someones table nearby. Either way, I was hypnotized. The intoxicating aroma permeated everything around me, slowly converting the quaint Montrose restaurant into the mothership of every pizza desire I would have from that moment on.
The Taleggio, named after the fantastic Italian cheese that oozes with a brie like fluidity all over the warm crust, carries a strong aroma balanced by a smooth and mildly fruity flavor. The thin crust is topped with fresh arugula, ripe pear slices and finally - and most importantly - drizzled with an erotically pungent truffle oil.
I often joke that when I order that pizza, everyone around me hates me for one of two reasons; they're upset that they can't smell anything other than my pizza or they're jealous that they don't have my pizza. Believe me, it's the latter. Alright, alright...so there are 12 other pizzas on the menu, but I gotta rave about my fave!
You'll find other fun pizzas like the Vongole (clams, garlic, cherry tomatoes and mozzarella) and the Zucca (butternut squash, panchetta and smoked mozzarella.) And for the creatures of habit, there are creative versions of the classics like the Siciliana (olives and capers) and the Calabrese (spicy salami) which is just a gourmet spin on a pepperoni pizza.
Dolce Vita also serves a limited number of colorful entrees and pastas that will satisfy any non pizza lover. Be sure to try my favorite Verdura; Shaved Brussel Sprouts with Pecorino. This delicious starter is dense, flavorful and will totally change your opinion of the historically blackballed sprout.
While it's not a super casual pizza joint, it does offer a relaxed vibe for a fairly diverse clientele. The prices are fair. You can share an appetizer, a pizza and two glasses of wine for about $50. So if you want to jump up a notch or two from your regular pizza routine and enjoy a bit of Italian authenticity, this is your place.
P.S. Parking is pretty black and white at Dolce Vita. If you want your car parked in a parking lot, go valet all the way. If you don't mind a super short stroll (my personal favorite - heck, sometimes I even walk from home!) find a little parking spot in the neighborhood just behind the restaurant. Be mindful of the "No Parking" signs and you'll be fine. The way this place gets jammed up on a good night, you'll be able to walk to your car long before valet could get it to you!
Location: 500 Westheimer 713.520.8222
1308 Cantina - Give it a Try
The Skinny: The killer Margaritas are kin to the ones from their mother ship, El Tiempo. After two, you won't know who's who.
The Fat: Mexican food is Mexican food, some will say. This place is no better than the best, but better than most and that means a lot in a sea of Mexican restaurants.
While I'm a huge lover of the cultural fare that infiltrates the Houston area, back in my hometown of Tampa, Florida, I always despised the sorry attempts the local restaurants made to serve Mexican food. But after a few years of H-town living and after reconfiguring my taste buds' likes and dislikes, Tex Mex has moved near the top of my list of culinary cravings. What can I say? I'm a fan!
First of all, I love to take my time when I dine. If I want to eat something on the fly, I'll whip up a grilled cheese and a side salad in the comfort of my own home. So - Mexican restaurant or not - if I'm out, I'm in it for the long haul; the drinks, the apps, and the conversation between courses. And so we started, ever so slowly, with their Margaritas. Yowza!
Well, one drink later, I was fully prepared to skip my sentimental yearning for leisurely dining and head out to the bars. Still, with my dining companion as the sole voice of reason, we managed to get ourselves together and order some food. We were going to see a friend's band play later that night and wanted to be "vertical" for the event.
The chips are crisp and the salsas (green and red) are tasty and fresh. We decided on a few apps to share. The Seared Tuna appetizer was a bit of a let down; a little overpriced for the portion size, but perfectly cooked and delicious nonetheless. If you want seared tuna, I'd save my fresh fish craving for another spot.
We also ordered the 7 Cheese, Crab, Artichoke & Spinach Dip. This masterful pot-o-heart attack was out of this world. A side of warm tortillas is served with a bowl of a gazillion cheeses (seven, to be exact) melted together with bits of crab and -you guessed it- Spinach and Artichoke. It was hard to distinguish the flavors from one another, but yummy just the same. It's a dip. That's how they work.
The shrimp cocktail is fantastic; a huge sundae glass filled with shrimp & fresh avocado drenched in a perfectly spiced red sauce and served with toast points. Then get ready for the Cannonball. This thing could kill a village. It's a full avocado stuffed with cheese and chicken and then (get this) deep fried. Sure it's a heart attack waiting to happen, but you'll be done eating it long before that becomes an issue.
I'd take a pass on the Jicama and Mango Salad. While it sounds exotic and delectable (don't worry , we were fooled too), the careless cuts of jicama and mango were little more than an unflattering duo plopped on a plate and drenched in a flavorless lime dressing. The whole dish proved to be messy and quite unappetizing.
I love their classics, like quesadillas, with any filling of chicken, beef or shrimp. Their enchiladas are pretty great too.
If you're looking to be floored by ingenious preparations, have another drink. This place is major Mexican and good at...the basics. But that's what we all love about Mexican food anyway, isn't it? The basics. At 1308 Cantina, you really can't go wrong. Just stick to the things you love about Tex Mex and you'll be happy.
P.S. The service is fantastic! Your chip bowl never runneth dry. Many of the servers won't be able to describe the menu items to you, I think it's because there are about 1000 items on the menu, so stick with what you know.
Oh, and my favorite waiter goes by the name of Larry. He's Mexican, but says that his hippy parents just loved the name "Larry." It's a funny story, ask for him and ask him about it. Then ask him what his middle name is. Then, after your second Margarita, ask him what a "Jose Conseco" is. Good times!
Location: 1308 Montrose Blvd. 713.807.8996
The Fat: Mexican food is Mexican food, some will say. This place is no better than the best, but better than most and that means a lot in a sea of Mexican restaurants.
While I'm a huge lover of the cultural fare that infiltrates the Houston area, back in my hometown of Tampa, Florida, I always despised the sorry attempts the local restaurants made to serve Mexican food. But after a few years of H-town living and after reconfiguring my taste buds' likes and dislikes, Tex Mex has moved near the top of my list of culinary cravings. What can I say? I'm a fan!
First of all, I love to take my time when I dine. If I want to eat something on the fly, I'll whip up a grilled cheese and a side salad in the comfort of my own home. So - Mexican restaurant or not - if I'm out, I'm in it for the long haul; the drinks, the apps, and the conversation between courses. And so we started, ever so slowly, with their Margaritas. Yowza!
Well, one drink later, I was fully prepared to skip my sentimental yearning for leisurely dining and head out to the bars. Still, with my dining companion as the sole voice of reason, we managed to get ourselves together and order some food. We were going to see a friend's band play later that night and wanted to be "vertical" for the event.
The chips are crisp and the salsas (green and red) are tasty and fresh. We decided on a few apps to share. The Seared Tuna appetizer was a bit of a let down; a little overpriced for the portion size, but perfectly cooked and delicious nonetheless. If you want seared tuna, I'd save my fresh fish craving for another spot.
We also ordered the 7 Cheese, Crab, Artichoke & Spinach Dip. This masterful pot-o-heart attack was out of this world. A side of warm tortillas is served with a bowl of a gazillion cheeses (seven, to be exact) melted together with bits of crab and -you guessed it- Spinach and Artichoke. It was hard to distinguish the flavors from one another, but yummy just the same. It's a dip. That's how they work.
The shrimp cocktail is fantastic; a huge sundae glass filled with shrimp & fresh avocado drenched in a perfectly spiced red sauce and served with toast points. Then get ready for the Cannonball. This thing could kill a village. It's a full avocado stuffed with cheese and chicken and then (get this) deep fried. Sure it's a heart attack waiting to happen, but you'll be done eating it long before that becomes an issue.
I'd take a pass on the Jicama and Mango Salad. While it sounds exotic and delectable (don't worry , we were fooled too), the careless cuts of jicama and mango were little more than an unflattering duo plopped on a plate and drenched in a flavorless lime dressing. The whole dish proved to be messy and quite unappetizing.
I love their classics, like quesadillas, with any filling of chicken, beef or shrimp. Their enchiladas are pretty great too.
If you're looking to be floored by ingenious preparations, have another drink. This place is major Mexican and good at...the basics. But that's what we all love about Mexican food anyway, isn't it? The basics. At 1308 Cantina, you really can't go wrong. Just stick to the things you love about Tex Mex and you'll be happy.
P.S. The service is fantastic! Your chip bowl never runneth dry. Many of the servers won't be able to describe the menu items to you, I think it's because there are about 1000 items on the menu, so stick with what you know.
Oh, and my favorite waiter goes by the name of Larry. He's Mexican, but says that his hippy parents just loved the name "Larry." It's a funny story, ask for him and ask him about it. Then ask him what his middle name is. Then, after your second Margarita, ask him what a "Jose Conseco" is. Good times!
Location: 1308 Montrose Blvd. 713.807.8996
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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