It was announced last year that the once ubiquitous Antone’s was expanding; Antone’s Famous Po’ Boys, which has a couple restaurants and po boy sandwiches residing wrapped in white paper in refrigerator cases in supermarkets across the area, will be opening other locations.  There is actually another Antone’s operation with two restaurants that also serves po boys in wrapped in white paper, and sports a similar logo, that is not expanding.  But, that one, Antone’s Import Co., is far more interesting and their similar signature po boys are far tastier.  Plus, there are nine appealing po boy combinations rather the four more basic, and mostly bland ones at the other place.
 
Since its inception as a single grocery store on the edge of the Fourth Ward, Antone’s Import Co. was for many years, into the 1990s, the standard in Houston for cheap and tasty prepared sandwiches.  A family originally from the Levant bought the first Antone’s many years ago (now the site of The Pass & Provisions) and successfully expanded the concept into a good number of branches throughout the city before retrenching.  In the 1990s during the settlement of the estate of the founder’s widow, Antone’s became two separate companies, Antone’s Import Co. and Antone’s Po’Boys & Deli, now called Antone’s Famous Po’ Boys, the slicker and larger operation.  Though each chain has broadly similar menus, Antone’s Import Co. more closely the original concept of a food import company specializing in items from around the Mediterranean and a deli and is clearly the one to visit.
 
Usually enjoyably crusty unlike the smooth, malleable bread of the other concern, the bread at Antone’s Import Co. is much better of the two.  Bread is a rather significant part of a sandwich, after all.  These fresh buns are distinctively a tad dry and slightly crunchy, and help to distinguish these classic Houston sandwiches.  The crusty small loafs, which were similar among the local Lebanese-run po boy purveyors, might be a legacy of the French influence in Lebanon and Syria in the last century or so.  All come affixed with pickle slices, and many with Antone’s popular and unique Hot Chow Chow, a fairly spicy mixture of pickled cabbage, onions, sweet green peppers and paprika.  One providing a nice textural contrast and the other some pleasant piquancy.
 
The current po boys at Antone’s Import Co. are the Regular featuring slices of Italian cold cuts and provolone, the similar but more so, Super, Turkey, Smoked Turkey, Tuna, Roast Beef, Chicken Salad, Club, and the love-it-or-you-don’t Piggy, a salty concoction that might not be for the overly squeamish or health conscious.  These po boys are made in each of the two locations while the po boys at Antone’s Famous Po’ Boys will taste like what you will find at a supermarket – all of their po boys are made at a central commissary according to a cashier during a visit last week.  You can certainly tell.
 
Both operations also serve other sandwiches.  The Antone’s Import Co. does a creditable job with a Cuban sandwich, for example.  But, you might want to visit Antone’s Import Co. for a po boy.  At the other one, one of the other sandwiches will likely be the wiser choice.
 
Antone's Import Co.
3823 Bellaire (between Buffalo Speedway and Weslayan) 77025, (713) 218-8383
8057 Kirby (between OST and La Concha), 77054 (713) 667-3400

​With opening day just around the corning, I thought this was appropriate to mention.  After work the day after the Chicago Cubs won the World Series in extremely dramatic fashion in extra innings in Game 7 on the road, their first title since 1908 – easily the most joyous surprise of 2016 – I trekked over to T.K. Bitterman’s, the longstanding Cub-memorabilia-festooned neighborhood bar on W. Alabama across from its better known neighbor, the West Alabama Ice House, to congratulate proprietor Kent Marshall about the victory, as I have known him for years.  He was actually there, if still combating the lingering effects of the early morning celebration, but in an understandably great mood.
 
We chatted for a little while, and I eventually looked at the only newspaper clipping on the small tack board near the entrance.  I took a couple of steps to take a look at it – an article in the Houston Chronicle about the bar from Nikiki Metzgar, who is identified as a freelance writer.  I then asked Marshall about it.  His high spirits quickly shifted.  I could understand why.  Metzgar had this to write about the bar, “It's a little quirky, with a souvenir shop's worth of Red Sox memorabilia on the walls.”  With its plentiful Cubs photos and pennants on the wall, there might be a nod to the hometown Astros, but there is simply not a single thing dedicated to the Bosox other than its logo-labeled ball that every major league team has as part of the standings board displayed during the season behind the bar. 
 
With that unforgiveable sin – Marshall certainly had not forgotten – and other mistakes in the brief article, it was clear that Metzger had never been to the bar.  It was quite a sloppy little piece.  Not the first I’ve encountered in the Chronicle.  There was another wretched, nearly information-free profile of 13 Celsius, my vote for the city’s best wine bar, that described its range of wines thus: “This is no haphazard wine list; there is no filler on the menu, which is both well curated and annotated. Updated weekly to reflect what's been served and what's just arrived….”  Pitiful.  Both of these pieces were published back in 2012.  I have not come across nearly as bad since.
 
But, it doesn’t diminish the appeal of Bitterman’s for the Cubs fan, or the Astros or baseball fan, at all.  Plus, it gives the bar’s namesake, the Bitterman, Marshall, something to continue to be a little bitter about, even after an event of a lifetime.
 
TK Bitterman’s
2010 W Alabama (east of Shepherd), 77098


At least the Chronicle got a photo of Kent Marshall, holding what was long a favorite of the bleachers in Wrigley Field and is referred to familiarly as "Doggie Style."  Not surprisingly, it was taken by a person different than the author of the article.

If you have not finished all the crawfish at your boil, or a friend’s for that matter, spending a few minutes gathering crawfish tails can lead to a terrific pasta dish the next day or two.  There is more than etouffee and stock that you can use the boiled and neglected crawfish.  A bright, simple and chucky marinara and the goodness of garlic, onions and peppers gives the crawfish a nice complement and pasta.  Don’t be put off by the number of ingredients or steps, this is actually quite easy.  It is an adaption of dish at Ciro’s, the longstanding Italian-American restaurant on I-10 in Spring Branch that's about to move into new digs at the new Hotel Za Za there.
 
Simply grab some boiled crawfish rip of the heads and legs and stick them in a plastic bag to take home and refrigerate.  You’ll have to remove the tail meat before preparing this dish, but you’ll be part of the way there.
 
Serves – 2 hearty portions

Crawfish sauce:
White Onion, diced – 1 medium
Bell Pepper, seeded and diced – 1
Garlic, finely chopped – 2 cloves
Crawfish tails – About 30
Salt – To taste
Black Pepper, freshly ground – To taste
 
Marinara sauce:
 
Canned peeled and diced tomatoes – 28 ounces
Garlic, chopped – 1 clove
Red pepper flakes – Pinch
Olive oil – 3 tablespoons
Salt – ¼ tablespoon
Black Pepper, freshly ground – Pinch
Fresh basil, chopped – 2 tablespoons
 
For the pasta:
 
Dried pasta like penne, farfalle or linguine – ½ pound
Salt – plenty
 
Cooking Steps:

1. Remove the crawfish meat from the refrigerated tails.
2. Prepare the marinara sauce – don’t use a garbage jarred pasta sauce – as this is easy and can be done while the pasta water heats and the crawfish sauce created.  Heat the olive oil over medium-low heat.  Add the garlic and cook until golden, but not brown.  Add the red pepper flakes and cook for about a minute.  Add the tomatoes then salt and pepper.  Cook for about 30 minutes.  Add the fresh boil soon before serving.
3. Heat the pasta water.
4. Begin the crawfish sauce by heating the olive oil over medium-low heat.  When warmed add the onion and cook until softened.  Add the bell pepper and cooked for about 5 minutes.  Add the garlic and cook for 2 minutes.
5. Add plenty of salt to the boiling water.  Slightly undercook the pasta according to the package directions.
6. Add the crawfish tails and cook for about 3 minutes.  As these are already cooked, you are essentially re-heating them and do not want to overcook them.
7. Add several scoops of the finished marinara sauce to the crawfish sauce and simmer for about 3 minutes.
8. Add the cooked pasta and heat for 1 minute.
9. Add salt and pepper to taste.  You likely need the former.

Crawfish from one of my boils a few years ago.

​While at dining at the Main Kitchen in the downtown JW Marriott for what turned out to be very good meal, even if we most of the dining are to ourselves on a Friday night, the rest of my dinner group looked at me to order the wine for the table; I seem to drink a lot more wine than everyone else.  I did as I often do in similar situations with people ordering a range of different entrées and be mindful of the table’s budget, especially my own, I looked for the phrase “Cotes du Rhone.”  We were very aptly rewarded with the wine list’s sole selection from the affordable part of the southern Rhone valley, Domaine La Vitalis Cotes du Rhone Villages, priced at a cheap-for-a-nice-restaurant-price of $36.
 
Featuring 60% Grenache, 20% Syrah, 10% Carignan, 5% Mourvedre, and 5% Cinsault that was fermented with wild yeasts in concrete vats, this medium-bodied, balanced and fairly vibrant red wine with enough fruit to enjoy to after the food was finished, these bottles proved to be a worthy match to the range of the main plates: salmon, pork tenderloin and even steak.  And at the price, this somewhat surprisingly delicious wine was easy to order a second then a third for a table of nearly ten.
 
Cotes du Rhone and its slightly more prestigious and smaller neighbor bearing the “Villages” extension are from the southern Rhone area, south central France, a much more affordable sibling to the exalted, and usually much more serious Chateauneuf-du-Pape.  Featuring primarily Grenache, along with a variety of grapes including Syrah, Mourvedre, Cinsault and Carignan, with their unmistakable earthy European provenance, acidity and subtle tannins, these wines seem to demand food, and complement a wide array of preparations.  These are much better consumed with a meal, as was reinforced to me some years ago when a favorite Cotes du Rhone of mine tasted flat against in a meal-free tasting along with several broadly similar New World bottles. Along with dinner, it would have certainly been the best.
 
With that food compatibility and wallet-friendly prices, I’ve heard that these should be everyone’s house wine.  I don’t disagree.  Look for it when dining out, it will usually be one of the most reasonably priced bottles, or at Spec’s, the Houston Wine Merchant or another local retailer, where it can often find a suitable bottle for between $10 and $15.

​I guess I was not too surprised to learn last week that Arthur Ave, the somewhat upscale neo-Italian-American concept in the Heights was closing to become a version of the owners’ successful Helen Greek Food & Wine.  I was pretty nonplussed in my two visits and had no plans to return.  Arthur Ave seemed to reference the cooly retro Carbone in Manhattan that has earned a very impressive three stars from the New York Times, but with far less the knowledge of cuisine and skill of Gotham’s Torrisi boys to pull off anywhere close to a similar feat.
 
I found that the menu at Arthur Ave was odd and missing many of the Italian-American touchstones – it certainly was not Italian, either – including the omission of veal, the classic American Italian restaurant protein.  No veal Parmesan.  No veal Marsala.  No veal al limone. No saltimbocca.  No veal Milanese.  Veal preparations, a treat when dining out, have always been a big attraction for me at Italian restaurants.  The rest of menu did not entice terribly much, and the execution in two visits maybe even less so.
 
The Chicken Parm in sandwich form I had on my first visit would have been forgettable at $8, but it was priced at nearly double that.  The properly cooked and moist chicken breast was under-seasoned and not helped by a bland tomato sauce that I thought could have come out of a jar and a scarce amount of mozzarella.  It was all right, but expensive for what it was.  The side of polenta fries did not help much.  Polenta is often fairly flavorless and even fried, and it was not as tasty as the polenta I had had at Kris Jakob’s Brasserie 1895 in Friendswood. 

The Fusilli Alfredo I had on the next visit was more satisfying.  Heavy, straightforward and simple, the creamy concoction had a hint of lemon smothering the soft corkscrew-shaped noodles making for a hearty and enjoyable lunch.  The dried pasta was from the excellent producer Martelli from outside Pisa, a brand that has been praised to me by Italian restaurants legends Tony May and Piero Selvaggio.  Though the fusilli kept its shape very well, it was cooked past al dente and a little softer than I cook at home.  Probably done like most customers enjoy pasta, its softness obscured the taste of the pasta.  A cheaper brand would not have detracted from the dish, so the use and highlighting of Martelli seemed to be a waste. 
 
Cobbled together clichés, just-decent execution and with a small range of dishes, Arthur Ave was just not that interesting for someone well-versed or passionate, much less very discriminating, about Italian (or Italian-American) food.  As much as I enjoy the décor and vibe at Helen, I found that dark interior at Arthur Ave and much of the décor a bit forced, just like the menu, and not overly comfortable.  I hope that the redo will improve the setting.  I found the restaurant to be a work in progress that did not seem to progress enough to make it a viable concern.
 
I have enjoyed Helen much more and I hope for success of its soon-to-be sibling on Studewood.
 
Helen Two?
1111 Studewood (just north of 11th Street), 77008

Tomorrow is St. Patrick’s Day, the most anticipated day in most bar owners’ calendars, especially an Irish-themed establishment.  Somewhat interestingly, in the advertisements and promotions for St. Patrick’s Day, food is rarely referenced.  Maybe there is some brief mention of corned beef or Irish stew, but these are very minor attendants to the event where beer and booze are dispensed and consumed with greater rapidity for most than almost any other time of the year.  Certainly among the celebrants, food is afterthought, at best. 
 
Why is this?  Food is a significant part of every other celebration in this country, Hallmark-afflicted, or otherwise.  The national holidays of Christmas and Thanksgiving are much about food.  Mother’s Day and Valentine’s Day are typically centered about a meal, often at a restaurant.  Every ethnic festival prominently features food of that culture such as Chinese New Year, and probably most notably, the saint’s day festivals at Italian-American churches such as the Feast of St. Joseph on March 19.  Even at another famous drink-centered event, Oktoberfest, one invariably also thinks of pretzels, sauerkraut and sausage – and maybe even pig's knuckles – along with the beer.
 
Curious about this, I came across Hungering for America: Italian, Irish, and Jewish Foodways in the Age of Migration by Hasia R. Diner (Harvard University Press, 2002).  She contrasts the Irish with two other large European immigrant groups, the Jews of eastern Europe and Italians, both of which celebrated food as a central part of the life they were crafting in America; the Jews more for religious reasons, the Italians, for cultural.
 
The Irish were fully subjugated by the English in the early 17th century.  By the early 19th century, Diner explains that, “the subordination of Ireland’s economy to English markets went hand-in-hand with the constriction of Irish foodways.  This elevated the potato from one food among many to the universal foodstuff of most.”  The typical Irish family at that time “needed only a pot on the fireplace to boil potatoes, but were ill-equipped to prepare anything else.”  What culinary aptitude that had existed had been lost, as “potato preparation demanded little in the way of cooking, cooking skill”, “nor produced cooking virtuosity.”
 
 Furthermore, the vast Irish poor, Catholic in contrast to the Protestant landowners, “had few venues for learning what the rich folks ate [unlike the poor in Italy with their custom of religious feasts], and few reasons to eat like the alien in their midst.”  The vast majority Irish did not know food, other than the sustenance provided by the potato and maybe a little about cabbages and onions.  “Alcohol provided calories, and Irish immigrants brought with them a tradition of using alcohol as a food substitute.” 
 
These Irish who began to come to this country in large numbers when the potato crops began to fail in the mid-19th century came with virtually no cultural attachments to food, very different than almost every other group, including the African slaves, who are able to recreate some of the dishes from their homelands.  Diner continues that “the Irish in America did not use food to celebrate Irishness.”  What we know of Irish food products like bacon, butter and cheese – with the exception of Guinness and whiskey brands – date largely from after the start of the Irish Free State the 1920s.  “Alcohol, rather than food, played an integral role in the Irish social system.” 
 
Part of the result of this lamentable history is that the Irish bar has become an enjoyable symbol of Irish and Irish-American culture – and a focal point for a March 17 revelry each year – with food just as a sidebar.

An earlier version of this article initially appeared in the Galveston Daily News.

​With its eclectic, ever-changing, Old World-centric offerings of roughly 140 well-chosen wines, including roughly 50 by the glass, ranging from sherries dry and sweet to ports and Madeiras to sparkling and still wines in shades of red, white and several shades of rosé along with a policy of discounted wines during happy hour Monday through Saturday, Public Services downtown is a terrific place to discover new wines for the curious oenophile or regular wine drinker.
 
One such wine was surprising to me.  As much as my tastes are Old World, now even by the glass without food, I almost always find Nebbiolo-based wines to be too tannic to drink on their own, especially when young.  But, proprietor Justin Vann mentioned the Burlotto Langhe Nebbiolo 2015 ($13 by the glass) as something to try, and though his tastes are a little different than mine, his palate and judgement are excellent.  The wine was very enjoyable solo.

More floral on the nose and surprisingly evident cherry and strawberry tastes on the palate even more than the expected earthiness coupled with nice acidity, and leading to relatively light and integrated tannins for a decently, long finish.  An obviously very well-made wine, and nearly elegant, that was much more approachable than nearly anyone might expect from a Nebbiolo that had been harvested just a year-and-a-half ago.  There was none of the overly mouth-puckering dryness, though grape-based tannins were clearly evident.  This was quite tasty as it was, though certainly would be even better with some food.

Burlotto is long-standing and highly regarded Barolo producer utilizing large barrels and the more traditional methods, and this is an excellent introduction to their more complex and expensive Nebbiolo-based offerings.  It is probably also very good on the dinner table on most nights.
 
Public Services
202 Travis (at Franklin), 77002, (713) 516-8897
publicservicesbar.com

The seemingly small iron skillet containing the nearly indistinguishable, darkly colored steak and the even smaller bowl with the side order of pale, whipped potatoes being brought to me provided an unimpressive initial display of the main part of the meal at Chris Shepherd and team’s new concept, One Fifth Steak.  However, the steak and potatoes, and everything else, were terrific and more than sufficient in terms of caloric indulgence.  It was not only the best meal I have had in a while, but a nice tweaking to the Great American Steakhouse tradition that is very well-suited for Houston, 2017.
 
Located in what was long the ungainly building that housed Mark’s, Shepherd and the folks from Underbelly are offering a slightly different take on the expected chop house that should please both those interested in city’s more interesting fine-dining spots along with those who consider a nice meal out a visit to a steakhouse.  One Fifth Steak is the first concept for the space that has been announced as a nearly five-year project that will offer a new cuisine each year, inspired by Chicago’s oft-changing Next from acclaimed Grant Achatz.  One Fifth Steak will close at the end of July with plans to reopen on September 1, as the second concept, One Fifth Romance Languages, subtitled, “French, Spanish, Italian.”  With the Super Bowl recently in town with thousands of heavyset, well-heeled steak-lovers from around the county – and the restaurant able to open just in time for the pre-game festivities – the steakhouse concept was apparently a no-brainer.  And, given what I heard from the staff how busy it’s been since the gun, and my experience with the execution, it was certainly a great call.
 
Surprisingly flavorful Gulf oysters on the half shell from Alabama complemented by an excellent cocktail sauce, a more-than-serviceable mignonette, and, best of all, a piquant and very tasty house-aged Calabrian chile sauce was the first food.  It was excellent starter that prefaced by a well-made Bourbon Manhattan, whose only demerit was the substitute for a nonpareil Luxardo Maraschino cherry that I have accustomed to at Public Services and, more recently, elsewhere.  The steak, a 10-ounce Sirloin Flap, was perfectly cooked medium rare and featuring a nice, light salty crust was fantastic and tender.  It was even better than the excellent steak I recently had at Riel.  Those whipped potatoes, Pommes Aligote on the menu, are Gruyere- and Point Reyes Toma cheese-laden that were an impeccable steak side that evening, somewhat rich, but not overly so. 
 
Though the expected strip, ribeye and porterhouse is on the menu, there is no filet. Customers should be satisfied with one of the other options, including the succulent sirloin I had or the 100-day-wet-aged hanger steak, a true onglet cut that you would expect given the restaurant’s provenance.  The steaks are USDA Prime, of course, except for the even more marbled Marble Ranch Wagyu.  There are bone-in versions for the bigger spenders – and copious seafood towers, caviar service and Pappy Van Winkle – and not just for the ballers, but for tables of six or more, The Baller Platter that has a variety of meats and cuts to share for the main course.  The one I saw, brought out on a long butcher block, looked quite impressive.  (I need to save up for the next level, I'm sure: Baller, Shot Caller). The sides are riffs and the standard, but in a departure from tradition, there is no Caesar salad.  The funkiest things on the menu are a pate, terrine and beef tartar, even if there are lamb necks and a pork collar, they taste just like good lamb and pork, respectively.  The unadventurous should not shy away from One Fifth.
 
The wine list is terrific, too, and with good prices for the quality what you can expect from wine director Matthew Pridgen, who has long had a very appealing array of wines at Underbelly.  As a wine by the glass for the steak, he recommended a 2004 La Vieille Cure Fronsac for $15.  2004 by the glass.  The Right Bank Bordeaux was a special purchase at a relatively low price, and the Merlot-laden blend was pleasurable accompaniment to beef. Before that the Premier Cru Chablis for $13 was so for the raw oysters.  The list here is even more wide-ranging than at Underbelly.  It might be described as interesting, Old School and contemporary, though not in the hipster vibe.  They would like to introduce you to the joys of grilled meat with sturdy products from excellent producers in the Rhone Valley, Piedmont, Tuscany and some less well-known areas.  Napa Cabernets, the focus of many steakhouse regulars, are not a focus here, but there are a couple of dozen of those including a few cult objects from Schrader and Abreu.  More tempting, food-friendly and easier-on-the-wallet options are easily found, though.  Dedicated beer drinkers are in good stead here, too, with the involvement of Hay Merchant head Kevin Floyd.
 
On that recent bustling evening, One Fifth Steak gave the impression of an engagingly quaint and proficient restaurant. Certainly there was a buzz, but everything seemed to be running quite smoothly from the bar, raw bar and kitchen throughout the dining rooms, something that can be difficult for a five-week-old establishment.  The crowd then featured what seemed to be former regulars at Mark’s, others seeking out the newest and the brightest among the local dining scene, a big table of Indian-American women upstairs, with Chef Chris Shepherd minding the store both greeting and cooking, a welcome sign.  Newly enshrined Hall of Famer Jeff Bagwell was also there plus a few NFLers, including part-owner Whitney Mercilus of the Texans, who appears to have pretty good taste.  I saw Pridgen decant a couple of bottles of Scarpa ‘Tettimorra’ Barolo 2001 ($235), from a highly regarded old school Barolo producer, for his table.  He decanted to the light of a J.J. Watt-pictured votive candle, which I found quite humorous.  I hope that Mercilus did, too; he is much larger than Pridgen.  As much as everyone in attendance appeared to be enjoying themselves at this excellent, upscale steakhouse when I departed soon after the decanting, I would imagine that he did.
 
One Fifth Steak
1658 Westheimer (just east of Dunlavy), 77006, (713) 955-1024
onefifthhouston.com