I recently learned that McGonigel’s Mucky Duck, the showcase club for regional and national touring acts mostly of the Americana bent, will soon be serving spirits and cocktails to complement their well-thought-out beer and wine selections that it has long served.  Their application is working its way through the TABC – the most maladroit and inefficient of the state agencies in a state government filled with them – and hopefully, soon is the correct time frame.  At least by springtime, at the latest, I understand.  It seems very appropriate to be able to enjoy a top-flight bourbon while listening to the strains of a Texas troubadour in the relaxed and comfortable quaintness of the Duck.
 
The focus will be on premium products including a small number of classic cocktails.  Something unique among the future libations is that they expect to serve an excellent Irish Coffee, a nod to the Irish heritage behind the bar.  It will be a version inspired by The Buena Vista Café in San Francisco that helped to make the drink popular in this country, and likely tasty enough to enjoy on those evenings when the only cool breeze is brought through the air conditioning ducts.
 
McGonigel’s Mucky Duck
2425 Norfolk (a couple of blocks east of Kirby), 77098, (713) 528-5999
mcgonigels.com

​My friend thought that the very handsome dining room of Le Colonial in the new River Oaks District development where we dined the other night gave the same sophisticated feel of an upscale restaurant he had visited in Hanoi.  Le Colonial, an import with locations in Chicago, New York and San Francisco, is certainly the most attractive Vietnamese restaurant in Houston.  With the dining room filled with an attractive clientele and a second-floor bar area packed with revelers even on a Tuesday night, it is definitely the most stylish and lively.
 
Our dinner, however, showed that it is probably not among the best Vietnamese restaurants in the city.  It was all right, straightforward and fresh-enough-tasting, but without the depth of flavor or vibrancy that you have at numerous other Vietnamese places in the city on a good night, if accompanied with much less the atmosphere, setting and service.  Even the banh mi and summer rolls I had from the drive-through at the new Oui Banh Mi a few days earlier were better than my three-course dinner.  Le Colonial seems just like the other upscale options in the River Oaks District, Taverna, Toulouse and Steak 48: not anywhere close to the tops in their genres in the city in terms of the quality of their fare.  The fact that these restaurants are all outside entities undoubtedly has something to do with this.
 
But, in addition to the handsomeness and liveliness of Le Colonial, there is something else to laud it about, their wine.  Their wine list might not be extensive, but it is extensive for a Vietnamese restaurant, and there are plenty of choices to more than aptly complement your meal.  Given the French colonial past of Vietnamese – and the over reference in the restaurant’s name – the wine list is heavy on French labels.  French wines generally go so well with food, anyway, that it makes further sense.  There are a number of aromatic white wines and champagnes, about ten red wines from Burgundy and a baker’s dozen of white Burgundies.  These range from Albert Bichot, Bourgogne 2014 ($39), which retails for about $20 a bottle, up to $399 for Domaine Vincent & Sophie Morey, Batard-Montrachet Grand Cru 2014.
 
Le Colonial’s French – or French-sounding, at least – sommelier recommended white Burgundies and the couple Sancerres as wines that best complement the range of menu items.  There are also around twenty New World Cabernet Sauvignons and blends that will overwhelm nearly all of the dishes, but necessary for “the Texans,” those dumbasses who don’t know anything about wine, but like to spend money.  There are a few of these people in the city.
 
Even better than the selections at Le Colonial are the prices.  Spot-checking a few prices, each were roughly just two times retail, which is quite low among area restaurants. Plus, there are over forty bottles prices under $50.  Though not inexpensive, Le Colonial makes it easy to enjoy a nice wine.  You’ll be spending money there, anyway.
 
Le Colonial
4444 Westheimer (between Mid and 610), 77027, (713) 629-4444
lecolonialhouston.com

​I’ve written how Frank Sinatra’s music has been, and is still, such a big part of the typical Italian-American dining ambience; steakhouse ambience, too.  A large portion of the usual Sinatra playlist, and certainly some of his best work, is that which can be considered part of the Great American Songbook: “I Get a Kick Out of You,” “Just One of Those Things,” “I’ve Got the World on a String,” and “They Can't Take That Away from Me,” are just a few that you might recognize.
 
The Great American Songbook is the canon of the most important and influential American popular songs and jazz standards, most written from the 1930s to 1950s by composers like George Gershwin, Irving Berlin, Cole Porter, Richard Rodgers, Oscar Hammerstein II, Duke Ellington and Johnny Mercer.  These songwriters, at their best, employed “witty, urbane lyrics with teasingly unexpected rhymes,” to borrow from the Wikipedia site.  It is music for adults, and many of the songs have remained musical touchstones for decades. 
 
In addition to Sinatra, performers like Ella Fitzgerald, Sarah Vaughn, Lena Horne, Tony Bennett and Dean Martin provided indelible renditions.  You are certainly familiar with these songs, if you don’t know the name of the tunes.  These have also become classic, instrumental jazz recordings that also add to that oft-found musical backdrop at dining or imbibing establishments.
 
Over the years, I’ve joked – accurately, I believe – to family that the Great American Songbook is comprised of the songs largely composed by Jewish immigrants from Eastern Europe or their sons and been sung and recorded the best by male Italian-American and female African-American singers.  It’s truly American music.

It's Thanksgiving today, and I will certainly overeat.  So, this post of ridiculous calorie consumption seems appropriate.  It was a tasty, if likely unwise indulgence.

I had long been a fan of Hickory Hollow, especially during those times when I feel my clothes are fitting a little too well or when my cholesterol is too well-situated in the normal range. Hickory Hollow has long been a place to get a lot of fairly tasty, hearty – and often fried and far-from-cardiologist-approved – calories for a very fair amount of money.  A large order of their signature chicken fried steak is the way to be a glutton on the comparative cheap.  Called the “Large Rancher – the ‘Saddle Blanket’,” the largest of the chicken fried steak accompanied with a bowl of thick, white gravy and served with fries or mashed potatoes, gravy and a trip to the salad bar is just $12.99. The medium and small (their term) sizes are similarly very fine values at $10.99 and $8.99, respectively.
 
A few years ago, after somehow missing dinner the night before, I felt that I was entitled to a bit of caloric indulgence at subsequent lunch, and Hickory Hollow came quickly to mind.  Though maybe not the gold-standard among local chicken fried steaks – the first one I had at Punk’s was a good deal better – Hickory Hollow’s version is tender and flavorful enough to be enjoyable, enjoyable enough for you to finish if you are ravenous (or very large).  There is a tremendous amount of calories for the money here.
 
As popular as the chicken fried steaks are at Hickory Hollow, an order of the large size is seemingly rare enough to warrant stares from fellow diners, tellingly, many of whom were morbidly obese and every single one was overweight.  The chicken fried steak, sharing space with mashed potatoes, could barely fit on the very large metal plate.  I didn’t mind the stares.  I was famished and went there to be a pig, and I was, successfully finishing the steak – aided by some black pepper and shots of the cayenne-laden Louisiana hot sauce – potatoes, blue-cheese-dressing-topped salad, too, and even scraping the plate for gravy and bits of fried crumbs with some very white bread after finishing everything else.  I felt good.  So much so, my heart skipped a beat.
 
Well, maybe not.
 
Hickory Hollow
101 Heights Boulevard, 77007, (713) 869-6300
8038 Fallbrook, 77064, (281) 469-5323
hickoryhollowrestaurant.com

I just got the date for the visit of the Brunello consortium, which I am very much looking forward to.  Their last visit three years ago included a number of top producers and was quite informative.  This year they are only making stops to New York and Houston, a testament to the amount of Brunello and Rosso di Montalcino that are on local wine lists.

Brunello is something about which you ought to know, if you enjoy wines.  When you want to impress a client or a date at an Italian restaurant, ordering a Barolo or Brunello di Montalcino is usually the way to do it.  These are the top red wine appellations in Italy.  Several super Tuscans are as highly regarded as the best Barolos and Brunellos, but those usually require more wine knowledge and attention from your guests.  You’d hate to spend hundreds of dollars on Masseto and let that go unnoticed.  Same goes for Flaccianello, which also has a name that some might not take seriously.  Flaccianello.
 
However, “Barolo” and “Brunello” scream top-of-line, even at much lower price points than Masseto, Solaia and Sassicaia, and most of the wines from Gaja.
 
The problem with most Barolos and Brunellos at restaurants is that what is available on their wine lists – usually just the most recent vintages – are not old enough to be in prime condition.  This is especially the case with most Brunellos, even though the aging requirements are lengthiest in Italy, four-plus years for the “regular Brunello and five-plus for the Riserva.  Many of these wines take years to develop.  I had the opportunity to visit several producers a few years ago in and around Montalcino.  At a tasting at Fattoria dei Barbi, one of the oldest Brunello producers, the Brunellos we tasted were all still extremely tannic.  Our guide told us that Barbi’s Brunellos “need to wait five years at the very least.”  In late 2012, the 2004 vintage was the youngest of their Brunellos that was ready to drink.
 
Another issue is that Brunellos are big and usually very tannic wines that demand big, and usually, fat-laden flavors.  The most common answer I received from producers to my query of what food best paired with their Brunello was “bistecca,” steak.  Dining at wineries and with Brunello for several days, the wine might go best with steak and beef, in general, but it can complement more than that.  Legendary restaurateur Piero Selvaggio of Valentino recommends Brunello with “braised meats, any form of steaks and wild boar and pici pasta with a rich meat ragù.”  The pici (or pinci in Montalcino) is the indigenous pasta of the area, which are like thick, soft strands of spaghetti.  More than bistecca, but big and meaty still work the best.
 
In a restaurant setting, your guests will likely be ordering somewhat disparate dishes, not all steaks. But, Brunello can still work, especially if it is a lighter style.  Two I tasted at that last event in Houston sponsored by the Consorzio del Vino Brunello di Montalcino were from La Fortuna and Camigliano.  These wines were medium-bodied, less tannic than typical, and extremely approachable and drinkable, much more so than the typical Brunello, which will need more time to develop.  These wines would be good to order at restaurant since, while still carrying the prestige of Brunello, these are really ready to drink now unlike many Brunellos found on wine lists, and the lighter style can appeal to a greater range of dishes than the rich meat preparations.
 
I asked Joel Mack of the informative, Italian-focused Vintrospective blog, who was a fellow traveler in November, for additional recommendations of a lighter style of Brunello.  He suggested, “La Lecciaia, La Poderina, La Magia, and perhaps Gianni Brunelli.”  A few more to remember when dining to impress.

Thanksgiving is almost here, and if you are looking for something especially special, something to impress, you might give thought to this elaborate creation from a wild outpost of Italy.

While the turducken has sprung from the swamps of south Louisiana to be something more than a novelty in this country during the past decade – usually around Thanksgiving – it seems that a tradition in the large Italian island of Sardinia has it beat by a long way. 
 
Popularized by famed New Orleans chef Paul Proudhomme, whose roots are in the rustic Cajun lands, the turducken consists of turkey that is stuffed with a duck that is stuffed with a chicken before cooking.  In her Why Italians Love to Talk About Food, Elena Kostioukovitch writes about a traditional feast dish in central Sardinia:
 
The holiday roast carraxiu-style, a specialty invented in Villagrande in the province of Nuoro, eclipses the inventions of Françios Rabelais.  According to the ethnographic descriptions, you take a young bull and stuff it with a kid; the kid is stuffed with a piglet, the piglet with a hare, the hare with a partridge, the partridge with a little bird. After sticking one animal inside the other, the town cobbler is called to sew up the tough hide of the young bull using thick waxed twine. In some locations in Sardinia this dish is called malloru de su sabatteri (cobbler’s bull). Only Sardinian experts skilled at cooking meat over the fire are capable of roasting such a “nesting doll” uniformly. 
 
In addition to being rather elaborate, it’s rather an obscure dish, too.  Certainly, the effort necessary makes this a rare treat.  I had never heard of it.  I did not encounter it during my rustic eating trip to Sardinia, neither have I ever seen it on a Sardinian restaurant menu in this country (there are a few).  This term carraxiu is not found in either The Italian Food Guide from the Touring Club of Italy, which is quite wide-ranging, or The Dictionary of Italian Food and Drink by John Mariani (not so surprising, as I have come across a few dozen terms missing from it thus far).
 
Since the turducken has shown that Americans are receptive to dishes consisting of animals that have been stuffed into other animals, I wonder if this supersized Sardinian-style turducken might eventually gain some traction. 
 
I’m not holding my breath that it will.

The Margherita Pizza Project is progressing rather enjoyably so far, with three just bad pizzas, though maybe that’s three too many.  Utilizing the verbiage used by the New York Times in their restaurant reviews, from best to worst (Extraordinary, Excellent, Very Good, Good, Satisfactory, Fair, Poor), here are ratings of the margherita pizzas I have eaten thus far.
 
Amalfi – Very Good
B&B – Good
Bollo – Fair
Brandi (Naples) - Extraordinary
Cane Rosso – Satisfactory
Carrabba’s (Kirby) – Good
Coppa – Good
Correlli’s – Fair
Crisp – Satisfactory
Dolce Vita – Very Good
Enoteca Rossa – Fair
Frank’s Pizza – Poor
La Grazie (Sorrento) – Excellent
La Griglia – Satisfactory
La Vista – Satisfactory
Luna Pizzeria – Fair
Mazcalzone (Shepherd) – Satisfactory
North Italia – Good
Nundini – Satisfactory
Palazzo’s (Briargrove) – Good
Pass & Provisions – Good
Piola – Satisfactory
Pizaro’s (Memorial) – Good
Pizaro’s (Montrose) – Satisfactory
Solario – Good
Sonoma (Heights) – Poor
Spaghetti Western – Good
Star Pizza (Shepherd) – Poor
Tasting Room (Uptown Park) – Good
Taverna – Satisfactory
Tiny’s No. 5 – Good
Vincent’s – Fair
Weights + Measures – Good
 
Dolce Vita has been the best, reaffirming its long-held position as the city’s top pizza joint.  It was followed closely by the one at Amalfi, which is also one of the city’s top Italian restaurants.

​I have been eating a lot of kolaches recently for some reason.  I have always liked kolaches, as everyone does, though I have not been eating them that much again until the past couple of months or so.  A trip to visit my brother in Fort Worth sparked this current Czech breakfast pastry binge, as we stopped en route at a Bu-cee’s in Madisonville.  OK, there is not much to laud about the food at the grossly overgrown convenience stores that are Buc-ee’s, but their sausage-filled kolaches – technically klobasnikies, pigs-in-the-blanket, but you know what I mean – were actually pretty decent and certainly hit the spot when I was hungry that morning.  Driving back to Houston the next day, we stopped again for kolaches, this time in West, the largely Czech-American community north of Waco on I-35.  The kolaches from the Czech-themed Slovacek’s, just fruit- and cheese-filled were decent, if nothing distinctive and fairly processed-tasting, not quite level of Buc-ee’s, to be honest.
 
In addition to these, I had visited Kolache Factory a few times recently.  It’s long been a go-to for quick, convenient and inexpensive calories on weekend mornings, if never anything especially good.  I never included Kolache Factory in any of my three editions of Houston Dining on the Cheap, after all.
 
None of these come close to comparing to the kolaches (and klobasnikies) found at the Kolache Shoppe on Richmond and Weslayan.  Featuring extraordinarily fresh and light sweet yeast dough coddling the fruits, cheese or meats, these kolaches are another realm above the other ones I have had recently, akin to artisanal baguette from Common Bond versus a supermarket loaf.  If not quite Common Bond, maybe Slow Dough versus a supermarket loaf.  The freshness and quality of ingredients seem much better than in kolaches I have had elsewhere.  The kolaches from the Kolache Shoppe are truly something special in the realm of regional Czech-style baked goods, or most kinds of breakfast pastries found locally. 
 
Having tried a number of versions there in recent weeks: fruit- and cheese-filled, the sausage- and bacon-filled, and most of the breakfast versions, their kolaches might be the best I have ever had.  Even better than those I remember from the laudable Weikel’s Bakery in La Grange that I have stopped at countless times between Houston and Austin.  The quaint Kolache Shoppe has been around since 1970, and it is a place that many Houstonians still need to discover. 
 
Unfortunately, and possibly their only demerit, they are not open on Sundays, so you will have to settle for lesser kolaches to have with your beer on Sunday morning while tailgating for the Texans.  I had to do that the other Sunday, in fact.
 
The Kolache Shoppe 
3945 Richmond (at Weslayan), 77027, (713) 626-4580
kolacheshoppe.com
 
Monday-Friday – 6AM to noon
Saturday – 7AM to 1M
Closed on Sunday


A delectable blueberry kolache from the Kolache Shoppe

13 Celsius is a great place to explore wines with their wide-ranging and very well-selected wines by the glass, some quite inexpensive.  A current one is Antico Colle Chianti for just $6.  Dry, medium-bodied with pleasant plum and dried cherry notes, this a straightforward Chianti with the expected level of acidity that is not complex; structured and, nicely, something more than simple.  The familiar Sangiovese-based flavors of Tuscany are most prominent, but it’s backed up with 10% each of Merlot and Cabernet Sauvignon. After ordering from a newly opened bottle, you’ll want to swirl this in your glass for a while, as it can ten- to fifteen minutes to properly open up. 
 
This is the type of wine to purchase by the case to accompany meals at home for its food-friendliness and overall quality and value.  There are probably not too many better wines available at Houston restaurants or bars for $6 now.
 
The Antico Colle Chianti is more fully Antico Colle Chianti Colli Senesi, which can be good to know, and a reason why this wine is so enjoyable. Everyone is familiar with Chianti, Italy’s most famous wine region, the home of the county’s most well-known red wine name.  And most frequent Italian restaurant-goers might recognize the emblem of the black rooster that adorns the bottles of Chianti Classico, the area that begat Chianti back in the 1700s.  Since 1932, Chianti has officially adorned wines grown well beyond the borders of the Chianti Classico appellation.  Today, there are seven subzones within Chianti, with Chianti Classico being something separate.
 
One of these is Chianti Colli Senesi, Chianti from the hills around Siena, which might be the best after Chianti Classico.  This subzone is actually three areas, one around the appellations of San Gimignano, another around Montepulciano – home to Vino Nobile di Montepulciano – and the southernmost, covering the areas of Brunello di Montalcino.  Wines from the Chianti Colli Senesi subzone can be great to chance upon, because these wines are often very similar to the well-regarded wines of Rosso di Montalcino or Rosso di Montepulciano that are the younger, lighter versions of their richer, more serious winery brethren.  Antico Colle Chianti is one such wine, and worthy of a try for $6 at 13 Celsius, if you enjoy Chianti or Italian wines in general.
 
13 Celsius
3000 Caroline (north of Elgin), 77004, (713) 529-8466
13celsius.com

Following up on Anthony Bourdain's interesting and very complimentary recent broadcast about Houston's culinary scene, which highlighted the diversity and the decades-long welcoming aspect of the city's residents to newcomers, immigrants, including refugees from war-torn areas around the world.  This has greatly aided in the quality and incredible variety found in the Houston dining scene, helping make it one of the very best in the entire country.

The show quickly reminded me of this passage from the terrific song Bhindi Bhagee by the late great Joe Strummer and his band the Mescaleros about eating in London’s eclectic, ethnic neighborhoods, which is easily relatable to Houston (though maybe more so, and certainly more enjoyable, when sung by the band):
 
Well, I was walking down the highroad,
And this guy stops me,

He’d just got in from New Zealand,
And he was looking for mushy peas
I said, “no, we hadn’t really got them ‘round here
I said, but we do got…
Balti, Bhindi, strictly Hindi,
Dal, halal, and I’m walking down the road,
We got rocksoul, okra, Bombay duck-ra,
Shrimp bean sprout, comes with or without,
Bagels soft, or simply harder,
Exotic avocado or toxic empanada,
We got ackee, lassi, Somali waccy baccy,
I’m sure back home you know what tikka’s all about…
Welcome stranger…to the humble neighborhoods,
You can get inspiration on the highroad,
Hommus, cous cous, in the jus of octopus,
Pastrami and salami and lasagne on the go,
Welcome stranger, there’s no danger

Welcome to this humble neighborhood…” *
 
Not that we have any highroads in Houston, nor hills, much less too many pedestrians or mushy peas on menus, though there are some New Zealanders (and an Humble).  But, as fun as it is to dine in and around London, I’m pretty sure that we have it better here in Houston.


* Reprinted courtesy of Epitaph Europe

Driving around the Heights yesterday afternoon to see what was new, I drove by a place that's been around for a few years and still worthy of visit or re-visit, Kraftsmen Café, which has expanded its hour to the evenings and until the early night on Thursdays through Saturdays, a very good thing.  As the retail outlet for a commercial bakery that supplies many of the city’s top restaurants, and operated by a chef who was once named as one of the country’s top ten young chefs by Food & Wine magazine, you can expect that the sandwiches at Kraftsmen Café to be worth the trek to this largely residential section of the Heights in Houston. The Jive Turkey ($11 with chips) certainly is. It’s terrific, in fact.
 
Arriving in the center of a stark white plate, the sandwich halves reveal a somewhat odd assortment of colors: pink, orange, bright green, cream, deep brown, and white and light beige. These are from the slices of pecan-smoked turkey – smoked in-house, too – chipotle-infused mayo, wedges of avocado, melted Provolone, thoroughly caramelized onions, and the interior and crust of a sturdy ciabatta-like striata roll, respectively. The first-rate, multi-hued assemblage tastes slightly sweet with the plentiful onions, often rich, and thoroughly enjoyable throughout.
 
Though a bit off the beaten path, but not far from N. Shepherd, this very casual café is certainly worth seeking out if you live or work near the Heights or nearby Garden Oaks.  The Jive Turkey is one of ten sandwiches offered during the lunch hours. There are also about five choices among the entrée-sized salads and a soup of the day. 
 
Kraftsmen Café
611 W. 22nd Street, Houston, Texas 77008, (713) 426-1300
kraftsmenbaking.com

Well, who knows if the original margherita pizza first fired up in 1889 looked like the photo below, but this a margherita pizza at Brandi in Naples, where it was invented in 1889, as the plaque below it testifies.  I imagine it looked something like that.

It was absolutely terrific, by the way, and better than the other two pizzas we ordered, which were more laden with toppings.  Still excellent, the most restrained of three, the margherita was the best; less was more, when featuring a terrific, savory crust and excellent, amazingly complementary ingredients.

​Last weekend I finally ate at Etoile, the well-regarded French restaurant in Uptown Park.  Opened in late 2012, it had been on my list of restaurants to try even before it was touted to me by a woman who worked for a French trade association a few months after it opened.  I can be slow about some things.  But, I am glad I finally made it.
 
The Gallic classics like a chèvre salad, duck breast a l’orange and profiteroles were very well-executed and enjoyable, the surprise – and highlight for me – was the mushroom ravioli.  As much as I enjoy pasta, especially filled pasta at a restaurant, as the degree of difficulty is too great for me to make a satisfying version at home, I am hesitant to order it at a French restaurant.  But, my friend was enthusiastic about trying it and I very quickly relented.  Very glad I did, too.
 
The mushroom ravioli – properly Raviolis aux Champignons – was the best stuffed pasta dish I have had a restaurant since ravioli at Amalfi.  Featuring the small champignon mushrooms tucked inside silky smooth pockets of soft and flavorful pasta, along with some mushrooms outside, and all sitting in a light-colored and light broth, the dish brought out the pleasantly woodsy notes of those funghi that was subtle but contributed to wonderful overall taste of the dish. The menu described port, truffle oil and an aged Parmesan as other ingredients, and other than the cheese.  These were unnoticeable, but obviously great supporting players.  The dish was not heavy and worked well as an appetizer, where it is listed on the menu.  The substantial broth and presentation made it seem more French than Italian, but the execution of the pasta was as good as you will find in the best Italian restaurants here.
 
A French master chef – officially a Maître Cuisinier de France since last year – like Etoile’s Philippe Verpiand can obviously make fresh pasta, or can hire or train a kitchen to do so quite well.  It probably should not be a surprise to me that a French kitchen can be so adept at this.  Fresh pastas and risotto dishes have crept into the French restaurant repertoire in the past couple decades.  Italy is just over the Alps from France.  David Denis, when he and his staff, ran the nearby Ristorante Cavour a few years ago and made ethereal, fantastic gnocchi.
 
When you visit Etoile, you might want to consider something beyond their classic and expected Gallic creations.  At least the mushroom ravioli.
 
Etoile
1101-11 Uptown Park Boulevard, 77056, (832) 668-5808
etoilecuisine.com

Below are the results of my most research – using the term as lightly as possible – into the surprisingly wide-ranging array of margherita pizzas offered throughout town since my last post on it about four weeks ago.  The ones below were each quite different from the others, some quite good and enjoyable and couple of others weren’t, especially the one from Star Pizza.  If I have any sage advice to give today, it is do not order a margherita pizza from Star Pizza.
 
Carrabba’s (Kirby) – Good
Correlli’s – Fair
La Griglia – Satisfactory
Star Pizza (Shepherd) – Poor
Tiny’s No. 5 – Good

The different, but attractive and tasty number from the precious Tiny's No. 5 in the heart of West U.

​The subject of the previous post, TK Bitterman’s, was once regarded as serving one of the best martinis in town.  I’ve enjoyed a few over the years, and they can still be enjoyable.  Those are fairly representative of city’s martinis: cold, boozy and very dry.  So dry, in fact, that vermouth is not used unless it is requested.  The ones at Bitterman’s were just bigger the average martini, a big reason for their popularity.
 
I was reminded of the classic Houston martini during a recent visit to the long-inviting happy at Mockingbird.  I ask the waiter what kind of vermouth he uses in the martini.  He replied none, really.  They just swirl it around the glass and deposit it in the drain.  This similar to Flemings on West Alabama that serves far more martinis than the typical establishment. Typically, “in a dry martini just a few drops or even a mist of dry vermouth. However, most people who order a dry martini would be happy with no vermouth,” according to Mike Dalby, one of the longtime stalwarts there.  And Café Annie does not use any vermouth at all.  And, a bartender at Leon’s Lounge was unaware that you could even put in vermouth into a shaker when making a martini.  Really.
 
The classic Houston martini is London dry gin (or vodka, if you must, though shouldn’t) shaken with plenty of ice until very cold and then strained into the familiar v-shaped martini glass that might bear just a residue of inexpensive dry vermouth, or not, and garnished with pitted olives on a plastic skewer set atop or amid the flakes of ice.  This is type of martini that is usually ordered by an older, or at least middle-aged clientele in the nicer or more formal restaurants, especially those serving plenty of expensive steaks.  With the proliferation of crafted cocktails and more of an appreciation of the taste of quality – and not overly oxidized – vermouth, who knows how long this type of long-popular martini order will last.  Even more so, not as many younger drinkers order martinis, even if cocktails are more popular than they have been in decades. 
 
My guess is that these classic Houston martinis will find a place for a while.  A lot of livers still have to give out before then.