​Many moons ago, a favorite dish among a group of friends, and seemingly a great many others, was the Cream of Poblano Soup at Nicole’s on San Felipe not too far from the Galleria where our friend was a manager.  I don’t quite remember the taste, other than it was somewhat luscious, piquant and absolutely delicious, and I am one who usually doesn’t order soups.  This was in the days before the Houston restaurant scene really took off – and I become a much more experienced and demanding diner – but the memory of the quality of that dish has stuck with me.
 
Recently at my parents and in a stroke of serendipity, I came across a recipe clipped from the Houston Chronicle from sometime in the 1990s for a recipe for “Truluck’s Cream of Poblano Soup.” The dish migrated to Truluck’s when it first opened with our friend and some of the other staff when Nicole’s shuttered by the early 1990s.  Here is an adaption of that recipe, done in the style of Nicole’s.  The chorizo is very important, as my friend stressed after I mentioned I had found the recipe.  I made the soup last month and it was terrific, and even better as a leftover a couple of days later.
 
Ingredients
 
Makes 6 bowls of soups, good for starters.
 
Poblano Peppers – 3
Onion – 1, chopped
Carrot – ½, diced
Butter – 2 tablespoons
Flour – 2 tablespoons
Chicken Stock – 2 cups
Water – 4 cups
Half-and-Half – ¾ cup
Chorizo - 6 ounces
Cilantro – 3 tablespoons, finely chopped
Salt – 1 teaspoon
Monterey Jack Cheese – 2+ cups, shredded
Tortilla Chips – 2+ cups
 
Directions
 

1. Roast the peppers, either in the oven or over a flame, then peel, seed and dice.
2. Melt the butter in a saucepan over medium heat and add the peppers, onions and carrots and cook until tender, about 5 minutes.
3. Add the flour, stir in well, and cook for 5 more minutes.
4. Add the chicken stock and water, mix thoroughly and simmer for 30 minutes.
5. While the soup is simmering, cook the chorizo in another pan, which should take about 5 minutes over medium heat.  Drain on paper towels.
6. Strain the soup to remove the vegetables, preserving the liquid.
7. Puree the vegetables until smooth.
8. Add the pureed vegetables back to the pan with the rest of the liquid.  Add the half-and-half, a tablespoon of cilantro and the salt.  Heat until it is simmering and then turn off the heat.
9. Serve each bowl of soup with 1 tablespoon each of the chorizo and cilantro, then top with about ¼ cup each of the shredded cheese and then the tortilla chips.
10. Have the extra cheese and tortilla chips available to add into the soup, if desired, as it is consumed.

 
I have used much better quality chorizo for this dish, Kiolbassa and Chorizo de San Manuel brands, rather than the really cheap-tasting, heartburn, etc. -inducing $1 chorizo that I have too often purchased in the past.  I would recommend spending a few more dollars for the chorizo for this preparation, as I did.  And, next time, as I desire more spice these days than I did in the distant past, I will add at least a couple of serrano peppers to the mix, even though it was delicious as cooked above.

OK, “magical” is too strong of a word, but this wine was really good, and good in an unexpected way, something completely different from what I had experienced with this varietal.  Among the two-plus cases of wine from Italy I was shipped several months ago by a PR person whom I had met on a wine trip there some years ago was a Moscato from Sicily, Moscà from Barone Sergio.  I wasn’t familiar with any Moscatos from Sicily, or the producer, but the varietal, called Moscato di Noto there, is the same Muscat Blanc à Petits Grains that is used famously in Asti and in every region in Italy under several different names.
                      
So, the grape was the same as the well-known Moscato d’Asti, with which I had become much better acquainted a couple of years before on a trip to Piedmont that was sponsored, in part, by the Moscato d’Asti consortium.  Moscato d’Asti are aromatic, lightly sparkling wines – frizzante in Italian – that courtesy of a stuck fermentation, are vinified to a low alcohol amount of alcohol, 4.5% and 6.5%.  Often tasting of honeysuckle, pear, lemon, and orange, Moscato d’Asti wines are somewhat sweet, with a high amount of residual sugar, 120 to 130 g/l, which is a lot.  But, due to the considerable acidity that helps makes for wines that are rather balanced, if still sweet. These wines can be terrific, a far cry from the cheap, overly sweet, unbalanced and simple replications of Moscato d’Asti from Australia, California and elsewhere in Italy.
 
This Sicilian Moscato from Barone Sergio was something unlike these Moscatos from Asti.  Not entirely unlike, as it had flavors such as the citrus and honeysuckle recognizably Moscato-esque, but it is a still wine and one that is 13%.  I found it nicely aromatic, dry, balanced, with a medium body and firm structure, and very enjoyable with food with a touch of spice.  Delicious, even, and a type of wine that I would like to consume on a regular basis.  Its uniqueness was another reminder of the wonderful diversity that exists among Italian wines today, a wonderful diversity of very well-made wines. 
 
Barone Sergio Moscà is distributed by Artisanal Cellar in this country, but unfortunately doesn’t seem to get to my part of it in southeast Texas.  Something that I’ll have to keep looking for.

​As much as I like Goode Co. Seafood, it had been a while since I had eaten there.  When picking up a weekend lunch for my parents on the west side, its location on I-10 seemed to be the right call.  And, being lunch, a seafood po boy and fries seemed to be right order.  Actually, we all ordered that, if each with a different po boy.  Fried shrimp for me, and fried oyster and fried catfish ones for my parents.  We all loved what we got.
 
I am big fan of shrimp po boys, that New Orleans-bred sandwich classic.  The crunch of the properly fried shrimp, the succulence of good-quality shrimp – which very easy to get here – the taste of a fresh, crusty short loaf of French bread that’s fully dressed, a complement of shredded iceberg lettuce, tomato slices, a fair amount of mayonnaise slathered on the brad and a few thin rounds of pickles a touch more texture and hint of acidity. 
 
The excellent ones at Goode Co. Seafood are in the same vein, but just little different, a localized take.  The medium-sized shrimp are butterflied before frying and just five to a sandwich, not overflowing as it other places, but not skimpy.  In the finish-yourself version offered via takeout, the shrimp rest in the roll and on the side are an array of possible additions: shredded lettuce, a packet of mayonnaise, small containers of a piquant cocktail sauce, tartar sauce, pickles and another of pico de gallo in lieu of tomatoes, all house-made, of course, and then also a big wedge of lemon to squeeze on the shrimp.  I opted for some tartar sauce instead of my usual, and the traditional, mayonnaise and plenty of pico de gallo.  It all worked quite well together.  Helping the enjoyment were some top-notch fries – not easy to find for takeout these days – skin-on, judiciously salted and crisper and tastier than most, even after a little travel.
 
Liking the meal so much, I had to pick up one to go again the following weekend at the address that is more convenient to me, the original one on Westpark.  I resisted temptation to try something new, and a little healthier, the mesquite-grilled shrimp po boy.  Deep-fried that time, too, and equally delicious.
 
Goode Co. Seafood
2621 Westpark (just west of Kirby), 77098, (713) 523-7154
10201 Katy Freeway (between Gessner and the Beltway), 77024, (713) 464-7933

​There is no family recipe of tomato sauce – or gravy – in my immediate family.  This is because my Italian heritage is limited to my great-grandfather from the Marche region in central Italy and my great-grandmother whose parents were from Tuscany and Venice.  These are all areas that don’t have a tomato sauce with pasta tradition, at least the familiar ways that Italian-Americans and Americans love.  So, no Riccetti family sauce.
 
Long having an interest in perfecting a tasty long-cooked pasta sauce recipe, I recently queried a few of my Riccetti cousins, who all live in the Chicago area.  My cousin Celeste responded with her go-to recipe, one that she calls a marinara sauce.  It’s cooked for just an hour, before the possible onset of any possible astringency.  The result is something between the 20- to 30-minute simmered quickly cooked tomato sauces I have been cooking often in recent years and the hours-long sauce that many and many restaurants make.  I have made this a couple of times now and it has been terrific, both with DOP-certified whole peeled tomatoes and the cheapest ones sold at the supermarket.  The vibrancy evident in most decent quality canned tomatoes remains in the finished sauce while also having some depth and complexity.  I’ve just paired the sauce with pasta so far, but Celeste mentioned that used it with veal braciole for Christmas to very good effect.
 
Of possible interest, the recipe has a strong Sicilian influence: the use of tomato paste, the addition of sugar, the combining of both garlic and onion at its base, and the use of oregano for something other than saucing pizza (or making a pizzaiolo sauce).  Celeste’s mother, my Aunt Josephine, is Sicilian-American, so it is expected.  For tomato sauces for a while, I’ve been using mostly those rooted in Naples that use fewer ingredients along with one from Marcella Hazan, but this one will be getting much more my attention going forward.
 
Tomatoes, peeled – 28-ounce can, crushed
Tomato paste – 6-ounce can
Water – 1 cup or so, more if desiring a thinner sauce
Onion, medium-sized – 1, finely chopped
Garlic – 3 cloves, finely chopped
Parsley, fresh – 1 teaspoon, finely chopped
Oregano, dried – 1 teaspoon
Salt –  1 teaspoon
Black pepper – ½ teaspoon
Sugar – 2 teaspoons
Olive oil – 1 tablespoon olive oil
Basil, fresh – 2 tablespoons, chopped

1. Sweat onion, garlic and parsley in the olive oil.
2. Add the tomato paste, stir in well and cook for 30 seconds.
3. Add the crushed tomatoes and water to create the desired thickness
4. Add the salt, pepper, oregano, and sugar.
5. Simmer for 1 hour.  No more.
6. After sauce has been cooked, add the chopped basil.

 
I made a couple of small adjustments when I’ve prepared the sauce.  For years, I’ve been in the habit of cooking onions down somewhat first when these are part of a recipe.  I also used a food mill to remove the stems of the tomatoes and provide a smooth consistency for the sauce.

As bad as 2020 has been concerning restaurant closures, I expected worse.  Hopefully, most can hang on until things improve.  Here are the ones I found most notable that could not.

• Americas – The excitement and once even some magic associated with the Latin American-inspired Americas at its original Post Oak location had long since become muted as the years wore on and the city’s dining scene advanced.  With that and that the founding Cordua family had been forced out not so long ago, made the closure of this long enjoyable stop more bearable.
• Atlas Diner – Richard Knight, formerly of Feast and Hunky Dory and now this counter-laden space Bravery Chef Hall, is one of my favorite chefs in Houston and I believe among the best.  Hopefully, his always adroitly rendered and often imaginative offerings rooted in British, French and American antecedents find a suitable home in the future.
• Barry’s Pizza – The thick Sicilian-style pies were a draw at this casual pizza parlor that made it nearly four decades, announcing that it was shuttering for good at the end of May.
• Bernie’s Burger Bus – All four locations closed of the city’s best burger joint closed on May 31. 
• Bombay Pizza Co. – Something different and usually quite enjoyable on a particularly scruffy short stretch part of Main Street, this closure seems more than temporary, unfortunately.
• Burger-Chan – One of Houston’s best burger places, it couldn’t really continue in an office food court when the offices are emptied of workers.  Thankfully, another one is reportedly in the works.
• The Classic –  The contemporary diner on the western part of Washington from the folks at benjy’s and Local Diner never really excited too many diners, myself included.
• Dak & Bop (Museum District location) – Less fun for the kids in the Museum District and most of us who enjoy spicy fried stuff that is well made.
• Emmaline – A decent spot for a fairly upscale dining experience though never nearly among the city’s top dozens, but it was near my office.  My endearing memory is their valet service damaging tow of my co-workers’ vehicles during one lunchtime visit.
• Helen in the Heights – Though a welcome addition to the Heights, this never seemed to catch on as it might.
• Indika – Though it had lost its shine when founder Anita Jaisinghani sold it to concentrate on Pondicheri, it was still quite worth a visit until changes were made in the menu and emphasis, which didn’t really endear until many, most diners had moved on.
• Kaneyama – On Westheimer near Gessner, this sushi purveyor had its fans over the years but closed in May.
• Kenny & Ziggy’s (Buffalo Speedway location) – Owner Kenny Gruber cited the smallish dining room as making operations unprofitable with the necessary restrictions for service during the pandemic.  A shame, as it is much more convenient for me than the Galleria area spot.  A place I like to go when I feel my cholesterol is too low.
• Morningstar Coffee and Donuts – Well-liked and -regarded, this quirky and likeable Heights-esque spot just closed in December.
• Night Heron – From the folks at Coltivare, Indianola and Vinny’s, this never resonated with its Menil area neighbors – an odd menu off the bat didn’t help – nor too many others as did its predecessors.
• Pappas Seafood – Along with the location of Pappadeaux a little west on Richmond, this little Pappas Seafood place with its largely locally attuned seafood at Shepherd shows a Pappas move away from the inner loop (excepting the grand steakhouse downtown).  Another on Aldine-Bender and I-45 also closed.
• Pappadeaux (Richmond east of Kirby location) – Large and with a seemingly usually filled parking lot during popular dining hours, there are other Pappeadeaux’s left, though none now in the heart of town.
• Poitin – Nicely set with a cool view of downtown to its east, with a fairly expansive dining room and bar area, the odds were stacked against it during these tough times.
• Politan Row Food Hall – Some really neat and well-operated recent vendors made this a destination, more of note as its Rice Village surroundings has become more chain-oriented with its restaurant choices.
• Ragin’ Cajun (Westchase location) – The original location on Richmond Avenue remains open, and this near westside address made it for a couple of decades, a good run for any restaurant.
• Treebeards (on Market Square) – The Cloisters location is still open for your fix of southeast Texas-style red beans and rice.
• Yia Yia Mary’s – Pappas most explicit nod to their Greek heritage was a nice option to have in the area that did not survive the pandemic, either.

 
Bars

• Alice’s Tall Texas – On North Main west of I-45, the cheap Lone Star that was its hallmark has possibly become less of an attraction as surrounding area at the edge of the Heights has become less working class.
• Penny Quarter – One of Houston’s best wine bars, and certainly the noisiest, it will be missed, but the able team behind it – including principals Bobby Heugel of Anvil and Justin Yu of Better Luck Tomorrow – should hopefully be adding to the bar map once the pandemic clears.
• Public Services – This attractive bar a block south of Buffalo Bayou was excellent in turns for its cocktails, wines and spirits, especially whisky, and with service that was always a cut above.

 
Other

• Acadian Bakers – A longtime favorite for cakes closed in March.
• Boomtown Coffee (Main and Congress location) – The smart-looking Main Street location of Boomtown closed its doors in mid-July.

 
There is also Dolce Vita that was long the city’s best pizzeria – in a city rather lacking in quality pizza.  It’s closure was a decision by owner Marco Wiles independent of the pandemic to focus on his other two concepts, Da Marco and Poscol, as he has gotten older.

The whimsical Ants on a Log from the Atlas Diner