​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

In recent years I’ve had fun compiling lists of the best new restaurants in Houston.  I think that I’ve done a good job with them, too.  But, the list for 2020 will have to wait.  A combination 2020-21 list will be much more in order when it comes to pass in a year’s time.  Though the pandemic slowed the introduction of interesting new restaurants, there were certainly a few fairly ambitious ones worth noting off the bat: Bludorn, from a former executive chef in Daniel Boulud’s realm who’s paired with a extremely well-resumed team; Ostia, an Americanized Italian that also has roots with a top Manhattan toque, this one Jonathon Waxman and his well-regarded Barbuto in the similar vein; Musafeer, an upscale Indian offering preparations inspired by many traditions there and another local example of fine-dining Indian fare, this one the priciest; March, part of the complex that includes Rosie Cannonball, a chef who worked at Osteria Francescana, and a uniquely upscale dining experience for the city featuring inspirations from several of the Mediterranean cuisines.
 
EaDo continues to grow in dining destinations.  Tiny Champions from the fun folks at Nancy’s Hustle has recently opened, which should be both quite enjoyable and a much-needed expression of pizza in this quality-pizza-deprived metropolis.  And, Justin Vann, formerly of the terrific wine and whisky bar and recent Covid casualty, Public Services, is seemingly aiding the effort with the team, which provides even more reason to visit.
 
Xin Chao, too, needs a visit sooner than later.  I’ve enjoyed Christine Ha’s personal and somewhat inventive offerings downtown at the Blind Goat in downtown’s Bravery Chef Hall.  Further west down Washington Avenue, Ronnie Killen opened a new spot not far from my office, consistently named Killen’s.  I haven’t been to the office since early March, but it is nice to know that option exists whenever it is safe to return there.  With a menu of heart-stopping local favorites, I’m certain to love the place if just the few barbecue dishes are near the caliber of the influential Pearland spot.
 
I’ve mostly been visiting more humble, and inexpensive and convenient, places in my daily quest for food and desire to support local eateries.  Several of the new ones I have checked out have been fine, though nothing really to rave about – except just maybe Baguette & Tea for banh mi – much less include in a best newcomer list.  Maybe these will improve with time and experience, as can happen.
 
The reason I won’t have a list is that there is no way to accurately judge – and more so, enjoy – a restaurant in the current situation, especially for me who needs to be much more careful than most.  When taken away from the restaurant and eaten at home necessarily loses a good amount in transit, as there is always fair amount of time between preparation and consumption that you don’t have when dining at there.  That the food is likely less than the chef’s intended temperature, and is likely suffered at least a bit from jostles of the road.  It won’t be as attractive, seductive; plating in Styrofoam doesn’t really exist.  Not just the taste or look of the food, but the rest of the restaurant experience is missing: the décor, the atmosphere, the buzz, the people-watching, the banter with fellow diners and staff, the inventive cocktails – my home-bartending skills certainly pale in comparison with those found at most of my favorite places  Mostly, the company of your immediate dining companions, family and friends, in a suitable setting outside the home.
 
The great and really good new Houston restaurants of 2020 will have to wait until next year to be correctly judged.  Please pick up meals from them and others, though.​

Maybe not the best choice, but was enjoyable for that lunch from a newcomer.

It seems for a while now that supermarkets and big liquor stores have aggressively featured panettone: palettes of them in at least a dozen different brands and a number of sizes.  Panettone is the Italian tall, dome-shaped cake that makes its appearance before Christmas.  Originally from Milan, it is popular throughout much of Italy during the Christmas season, at least the lands north of Rome.  Somewhat like an Italian version of fruitcake, if much tastier, it is sold throughout the world, and makes for a pleasant dessert or a semi-sweet accompaniment to coffee or something stronger.
 
Panettone is actually a little more versatile than you might expect.  This is good to know if you end up with plenty of it left after Christmas and tired of eating it with coffee or a liqueur, tempted to toss out the remainder of the often substantially sized box.  At an Italian Expo event some years ago, a chef who had worked in Milan served an amazingly simple sandwich from his restaurant’s booth.  It was mascarpone slathered between a couple of slices from a panettone.  It was very good, and extremely easy to replicate at home, and affordable.  An inexpensive one kilo (two-pound-plus) panettone can be had for $10 or so.  If good quality mascarpone is tough to find at your nearby grocers, you might substitute brie or cream cheese, though I can’t vouch that the results will be as tasty.
 
Another use was suggested to me by famed restaurateur Piero Selvaggio of Valentino a while back, especially for somewhat past-prime panettone.  It makes the base for terrific French toast.  Or, more accurately, that might be Milanese toast.


A slice of panettone at Cascina Vittoria in Certosa di Pavia last year.  It was a lot better than anything that you can find here.

​Michelin’s restaurant guides have provided a wonderful and reliable source of dining suggestions for me for years, mostly in Europe but also domestically, in Chicago.  Though I didn’t get to employ any of the guides this year, there is something that I learned during my last trip overseas about a year ago that you should be aware when using a Michelin guide to plan a visit to an restaurant anointed with a star or more.  I wish I would have known this some time ago.  
 
A couple of years ago, my family was dined at Parizzi, reputed to be the best restaurant in Parma, and accolated with a Michelin star.  That star was a reason to visit.  As with all restaurants with stars, La Guide Michelin Italia gave a list of dishes.  For Parizzi, it was a salad with smoked pork, veal tips, and tartare di cavallo, horse tartare.  I remembered the salad as the recommended starter and ordered that instead of the tartare, then the veal tips.  When visiting Michelin-starred places, I have always ordered the dishes that were named in the guide if still offered.  I always assumed that these were the restaurant’s best preparations or the most highly recommended.  Though I really wanted the horse tartare – a sometime-seen specialty of the area – but thought the salad was what was really advised by the guide.  Only one starter could be ordered.  And, I was mollified by my brother sitting next to me who ordered the tartare, saying that he would split it with me.  He loved it.  Quite a lot, in fact, and forwarded maybe only half a forkful. 
 
Really, no matter, though, as my salad and the rest of the food was terrific.  The meal was fantastic, overall, the best during my two week trip to Italy.
 
Last fall, I was on a gastronomic trip to Pavia, south of Milan.  One of the fellow travelers was the longtime, acclaimed food and restaurant writer John Mariani.  He mentioned a tidbit or two about the Michelin guides.  Compiled by understaffed group of reviewers who were unlikely to visit an establishment more than just once: that the dishes that are listed for the starred entries are simply just the dishes that the reviewer had.  These were not necessarily the restaurant’s best dishes, just the ones that were sampled, and probably enjoyed. 
 
It would have been nice to know that – I find the conveyance of the information in the Michelin guides about particular places as rather parsimonious and even Delphic – and in Parma I could have had a full order of delicious horse tartare all to myself.

The tortelli d'erbette at Parizzi with plenty of grated Parmigiano

​The quality of Indian and Pakistani restaurants in Houston has grown dramatically since I started opining about food here nearly two decades ago, as those communities have grown and the general dining public has become more knowledgeable, appreciative, and demanding of south Asian cuisines.  One of my favorites for Indian fare and a fairly frequent stop for takeaway these days is Surya, a small, minimalist spot located in a small space on Durham a couple of blocks south of Washington.  With a concise menu of mostly familiar northern Indian dishes presented attractively and prepared even more enticingly all for a fair price, it is easy to like. One item is indicative of the caliber of the cooking, and accompanies every entrée, the side of rice.  The high-quality, long-grained and inherently fragrant and a bit nutty basmati rice at Surya is cooked fairly quickly to an al dente texture with cinnamon and bay leaves and then some saffron, the last giving it streaks of yellow.  The resulting rice, grains properly distinct and topped with a few peas, is a perfect pairing to the curries, delightful in its own right, and probably the best Indian-style rice I have ever eaten.  It’s just one reason to visit Surya.
 
Surya
700 Durham (two blocks south of Washington), 77007
(713) 864-6667
suryahouston.com

​Yesterday evening, as part of the Week of Italian Cuisine, a worldwide program of the Italian government for promoting Italian cuisine and food products, the Italian consulate in Houston hosted a virtual dinner to honor the 200th anniversary of the birth of Pellegrino Artusi, the author of Science in the Kitchen and the Art of Eating Well.  First published in 1891, a scant two decades after the country of Italy was fully unified, Arusi’s work has resonated as “the symbol of Italian cuisine” – if mostly featuring the cooking of Tuscany and Romagna, with a number of regions completely ignored including most of the South.  It was a start to quantify and celebrate some of the amazing diversity and quality found in the disparate cuisines of Italy.  That Artusi’s work is still cherished by many Italian cooks to this day and taught in cooking schools there was quite impressive to learn from the event. 
 
The virtual dinner was created by Amalfi restaurant, which serves some of the very best Italian food in the state of Texas.  Chef and owner Giancarlo Ferrara has long done wonderful work cooking dishes both rooted in his native Salerno area south of Naples, and those from other cuisines he has cooked over the years.  Ferrara and team did a terrific job with the several courses, a difficult task for roughly thirty dinners to be cooked and packed then eaten several hours and at another site after preparation and delivery.  Amalfi’s dishes ranged from Gnocchi alla Romana, Vitello Tonnato with sides of roast vegetables, and a dessert of Apple Strudel were the courses.  Apple Strudel in Italy?  Yes, it is actually popular in Friuli near the northeastern edge of Italy, which was once under the control of the Austrian Empire, and there are plentiful apples.
 
The strudel was excellent last night, featuring a delicate crust, tender and flavor apples and nicely complemented with small sides of caramel and whipped cream.  I couldn’t help but quickly finishing it though I thought I was fun from the previous courses.  Below is the recipe from Artusi, some previous pastry skills are helpful.  Amalfi also seemingly sauteed the apple slices and added pine nuts for its version, which worked quite well.
 
Grande Strudel di Mele [Great Apple Strudel]
 
For the pastry dough:
 
Flour –  250 grams
Warm milk
Butter – About the size of a walnut
Egg – 1
Salt – Pinch
 
For the filling:
 
Apples, peeled, cored and thinly sliced – 500 grams
Butter, melted – 100 grams, plus some more for brushing the dough.
Sugar – 85 grams
Currants, dried – 85 grams
Lemon zest – 1 lemon
Cinnamon, ground – 2 or 3 pinches
 
Steps:
 

1. Make a rather firm dough with he flour, warm milk, butter, egg and pinch of salt.
2. Let the dough rest a little before rolling it out as thin as that used for taglierini noodles.
3. Cover the sheet of dough with a layer of the peeled, cored and thinly sliced apples.
4. Scatter the currants, lemon zest, cinnamon, sugar and then the 100 grams of melted butter over the layer of sliced apples.
5. Reserve a little of the melted butter for use later.
6. Roll up the dough with the filling to form the shape of a cylinder.
7. Brush the leftover melted butter on the dough.
8. Place the strudel in a greased copper baking pan and bake until done.

 
Adapted from Science in the Kitchen and the Art of Eating Well by Pellegrino.

The famed, nearly namesake dish of Original Joe’s in San Francisco can be thought of an Italian-American take on the frittata.  My father called it the frittata when he lived in San Francisco in the 1960s and frequented the restaurant.  The popularity of this dish has remained regional for some reason, though it is very versatile, working well for breakfast, lunch and dinner and reputedly is welcome when suffering from a hangover, plus pairing well with a cold light beer for any of those meals. 
 
It’s easy to make at home and quite tasty, if one of the ugliest Italian-American dishes around.
 
Serves 2
 
Olive oil – 2 tablespoons
Onion – ⅔ cup, chopped
Ground beef, chuck – ½ pound
Spinach, frozen – ¾ cup, thawed, somewhat dried, and finely chopped
Oregano, dried – ⅛ teaspoon
Basil, dried – ⅛ teaspoon
Salt – to taste
Black pepper – to taste
Eggs – 3
Parmigiano-Reggiano – ¼ cup, grated
 
1. Heat the oil in a pan. Add the onion and cook over medium-high heat, stirring from time to time, until it just starts to brown.
2. Add the meat, stirring, until no longer pink.
3. Add the spinach to the pan.
4. Add the oregano, basil, salt and pepper.
5. Break the eggs into a bowl and mix well. Add to the skillet and scramble with the beef mixture.
6. When eggs are cook, remove from heat.
7. Sprinkle with grated Parmigiano-Reggiano and serve.
 
Option – Sauté sliced cremini mushrooms in butter or olive oil to adorn the dish, similar to what is done at the restaurant these days.

The as it is at Original Joe's, which is housed at the once longtime home of Fior d'Italia.  Photo by Cullen328 - Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=78734433

​My last trip to a Luby’s was a family affair that happened to be in Waco.  My pleas to eat at tiny strip center Mexican restaurant near where we were meeting were ignored and the lot of us ended up at Luby’s.  Mostly for convenience, I was told.  The lunch was awful.  My chicken fried steak, which I quite enjoy time-to-time when it is done at least somewhat well, was terrible: not very tender, if with no gristle, and a less flavorful piece of beef than is typical even for this dish.  The cheap-tasting cream gravy didn’t help that much, though plenty of bottle  hot sauce did some damage control.  It was one of the very worst chicken steaks of the thirty or so I’ve had during the time of my quest for the best chicken fried steak in the area.  The thin mashed potatoes were amazingly tastless even with brown gravy, and the straight-from-a-can-then-sitting-in-heated-tub corn was decent with some pico de gallo splashed on it, though providing no reason to be eaten without it.  The jalapeño cornbread had jalapeños, which was about the best that could be said.  The setting was depressing, even on a bright day with plenty of light, like a school cafeteria in an underfunded middle school built during LBJ’s tenure and with possibly the worst-kept bathrooms in a restaurant that year.  The staff was very pleasant, upbeat if slow and inefficient.
 
It was all not surprising, even if worse than hoped.  Luby’s does not serve good food, in my opinion nor has it ever really done so.  I wrote three guidebooks that highlighted the best inexpensive restaurants in the Houston, Houston Dining on the Cheap.  The first was published in 2002, the third and last one in 2007.  Luby’s was not included in any edition nor was it ever seriously considered for inclusion.  Cafeterias like Luby’s did not feature the most interesting fare, and usually didn’t or don’t use anywhere near the best quality ingredients.  And then those ingredients are used in preparation that were left sitting in steam trays for a while, very rarely helping its enjoyment.  Items cooked to order elsewhere were usually done so in batches well beforehand and left to sit.  The food and value at these weren’t nearly good enough, especially in a city like Houston, which is not only one of the very best restaurant cities in the country, but also most affordable.  Why would I, or anyone who really enjoys food, go to Luby’s when they could go to a taqueria, a bahn mi or pho stop, one featuring well-made Cajun cookery, or a number of other types of restaurants, even those serving the Southern-rooted fare like Luby’s serving tastier food that was also usually cheaper.  The competition greatly hastened the demise of cafeterias, sooner in Houston than in lesser restaurant cities in the state.
 
Luby’s had its partisans, though.  I enjoy reading Mimi Swartz’s monthly columns about Houston and Texas in the New York Times.  She is a longtime contributor to Texas Monthly who appears from her writing to live in the Heights and in it recently wrote a paean to Luby’s.  After reading the article, I began to doubt her judgement.  I should try, I will try, to limit that assessment to her food likes. 
 
Luby’s board voted to dissolve the struggling company last month.  It was recently reported that local restaurateurs Christopher and Harris Pappas of Pappas restaurant fame, and who had run Luby’s since 2001 and own a substantial stake in the corporation, filed paperwork so that they may possibly bid to buy its assets.  After much regional publicity about its demise, we might actually still see some Luby’s in the future.  I certainly don’t need to, nor its disturbingly square fish.

Entrance to Luby's offices, for now, in downtown Houston

​One of those very memorable meals you have in your life, one of the first for me, was at Anthony’s when it was in the Chelsea Market on Montrose.  I was being feted by my parents in 1987 for a birthday and I had the osso buco, the first time I had osso buco.  Anthony’s preparation was braised in sage, lemon, thyme and basil and served in a rich Barolo wine sauce with a side of risotto.  The plump, slowly cooked and properly tender veal shank was absolutely delicious; rich, nearly decadent, but also refined and deeply flavored, and well-complemented by the wine sauce and perfectly cooked, soft risotto.  Different than the typical Milan-bred version, that is still the best osso buco that I’ve ever had.
 
Of the restaurants that Vallone had over the years, including Anthony’s, Grotto, La Griglia, Vallone’s (twice), Los Tonyos – a short-lived Tex-Mex concept on Shepherd that I actually quite liked – and Ciao Bello, it began and ended with the eponymous Tony’s, which remains on Richmond in Greenway Plaza.
 
Tony’s was Tony Vallone’s first and most iconic restaurant was his only restaurant when he passed away last week.  The first incarnation opened in 1965 on far-less-busy Sage Road as what has been called a “spaghetti house” when Vallone was only in his early twenties.  In a few years it transformed into a mostly French restaurant taking its cues from the grand dames of French dining in Manhattan like La Caravelle and Lutèce.  It was then and remained a destination for local socialites, the business elite, visiting celebrities and even presidents, who were more than ably cosseted in its clubby Post Oak Boulevard address where it moved in 1972.  Tony’s proudly served “The poetry of French food” as it proclaimed in a 1975 Texas Monthly advertisement, and doing it very well.  The year before the same magazine thought it was the best restaurant in Houston.  Tony’s kitchen eventually became more Italian following the passion of its owner, whose parentage, I understood, had antecedents in Sorrento, down the coast from Naples, and Corleone in Sicily where many Houston Italian-Americans have roots.  His culinary heart seemed to be in Naples, which showed on the menu and, more so, in later restaurants.
 
John Mariani, the longtime restaurant critic for Esquire now at Forbes, was a big fan of Tony Vallone’s restaurants.  For his list of best new restaurants in the country for the magazine, Anthony’s was on it in 1985, Grotto in 1989, La Griglia in 1991, Anthony’s in its new location in 1994, and Tony’s after its move in 2005.  Anthony’s was even named the best new restaurant in the country in its last incarnation in Highland Village.  High praise, indeed, coming from a well-traveled, seasoned writer based in the New York area and an expert on Italian food, the author of The Dictionary of Italian Food and Drink.  In fact, Mariani listed both Anthony’s and Tony’s among the most authentic Italian restaurants in this country in 1985 joining Tony May’s ambitious, beautiful Palio and Lidia Bastianich’s Felida in New York, and Piero Selvaggio’s Valentino and Primi plus the groundbreaking Rex Il Ristorante in Los Angeles.
 
My favorite of the Vallone establishments was Grotto.  In part, because it was the most approachable and affordable, very important for someone just out of college during its early heydays.  The food was – and is, as the menu has been stuck in amber since Landry’s purchased it – mostly Neapolitan-inspired with some items and tastes from Sicily along with the very thin-crust Roman-style pizza tonda, all done very well.  Not quite authentically Italian but tasting Italian for the most part, and tasting great, regardless of provenance, more vibrant and stylish than most, especially at the prices.  It was usually one of the pasta preparations or veal for me then prefaced by a wonderful breadbasket that included then then exotic, Sardinian cracker-like pane carasau.  The setting and atmosphere in the evenings were terrific, drawing the very well-heeled and still-pretty-after-many-decades, but also a range of ages and with an smart, upscale casualness that made it inviting to me.  Well-made Neapolitan-themed fare will do that for me, too, in most places, to be honest.  I used to even stop by the restaurant to just pick up cans of the Vallone labeled San Marzano tomatoes when it sold those.
 
In addition to the quality of the fare and the attentive service at Tony’s, especially, Tony Vallone had an excellent sense of style and design.  I don’t believe that he received enough credit for that, and it extended to all of his restaurants, at least from the 1980s on.  Grotto featured a sprawling, fun and often bawdy, well-rendered mural adorning the walls and columns featuring Naples-inspired figures street scenes and those from the Italian commedia dell’arte that was part of the draw of the restaurant.  La Grigila was maybe even more attractive, with its seaside motif, if more restrained in the content of its décor.  Anthony’s, after those two, was completely different, but strikingly handsome.  The latest incarnation of Tony’s, which opened in 2005, has an intriguing modern setting, light but sumptuous, punctuated with dramatic late-century works by Robert Rauschenberg and Jesus Moroles.
 
But, for me, the fondest memories from the Vallone establishments are primarily about the food.  Here is a dish that can be made a home, a recipe from Grotto that was featured in the Vallone restaurants newsletter for the Fall / Winter 1993.  I’ve made this a number of times over the years to great success.  Surprising success, at that.  It’s easy, just be sure to have good quality ingredients.  It takes its name from the island off the coast of Naples, in case you are wondering.  Don’t know if it has any connection to Ischia, but the name sounds cool.
 
Mozzarella Ischia – Hot Fresh Mozzarella with Tomatoes, Olives, and Sweet Peppers
 
Ingredients:
 
Mozzarella di Bufala – 3 pounds
Extra Virgin Olive Oil – ½ cup
Garlic – 6 to 8 cloves, finely minced
Flat-leaf parsley – 1 cup, chopped
Balsamic vinegar – 1 tablespoon
Red onion – 1 cup, finely chopped
Gaeta olives – 20, pitted and cut in half
Dried oregano – 1 tablespoon
Tomatoes, large – 6, chopped into good-sized pieces; tomatoes need to be very fresh
Basil – 36 large leaves, torn into pieces just before serving
Red bell peppers – 4, roasted and sliced
Sugar – 1 tablespoon
Salt and pepper to taste
 
Serves 12 as an appetizer.  I usually have thick slices from a crusty loaf as an accompaniment.
 
Directions:

1. Preheat oven to 400°F.
2. Place thick slices or balls of mozzarella into a well-oiled baking dish and cook for 5 minutes
3. In a large bowl, mix well all of the other ingredients.
4. Place the just-baked mozzarella onto small plates and spoon the mixture over it and then pour on some additional liquid from the bowl.  Serve at once.

Part of a luncheon at Tony's a few years ago.

​Working from home was a little stressful at first with the extent and disruption of the pandemic being brand new.  Looking forward to a cocktail at the end of the workday, which might have stretched a little longer toiling from home, helped both make the afternoons go more quickly and provide some kind of demarcation between the work life and that of home.  Maybe, it was a the alcohol that helped, too.
 
Prompted by my desire to find a recipe for margaritas that I enjoyed and could do a passable job with at the house, aided by Costco’s price for a 5-pound bag of limes for just $4.39, I’ve had a lot of limes to work with.  I was steered toward cocktails that might use lime in addition to those margarita trials.  Gin and tonics, of course, but I had to expand my repertoire.
 
Other than for the margaritas, the mantra was easy and refreshing for our warm climate.  Ice.  Like most Americans I demand it with spirits most of the time.  I didn’t mind squeezing a lime or two, but nothing much more than that other than stirring and sometimes shaking.  And no garnishes.  Other than for the margaritas, I generally wanted lower alcohol, too.  I had grown to appreciate the Italian approach to the apertivo, the pre-dinner cocktails that not only provide some alcoholic pleasure, though not a lot, and also help open the appetite often with their hints of bitterness. For that, vermouth and soda didn’t work out that well for me.  I didn’t really like any of the versions that I made, with Cocchi Americano and another semi-sweet vermouth, Dolin Blanc.  Dolin Dry, which I employ for my martinis, didn’t do the trick either, but at least one Italian product did work.

​​A big take-away from the nearly daily mixing research was that Fever Tree is near necessity for my palate, both its tonic waters and its club soda.  Another is that lime really does help a great many cocktails.  Using limes and lemons – usually half of each at a time – generally makes the drinks more vibrant, refreshing and tastier, adding some welcome balance to the spirit, in part.  Below is a quintet of easy mixers that I’ve quite liked in recent months.
 
(Irish) Whiskey and Soda
 
Tullamore Dew, a smooth and easily enjoyable Irish whiskey, with more balance and flavor than the most popular Irish renditions, was reintroduced to me by the fine folks at The Mucky Duck, where it is used in their excellent version of the Irish Coffee.
 
Two ounces of Tullamore Dew mixed with five ounces of Fever Tree club soda over plenty of ice with two lemon quarters squeezed in, stirred a few times.  Fever Tree’s tonic water very conveniently comes in 8-packs for just about 5-ounce cans that makes for a single drink.  I’ve only seen those at Spec’s, though.  I prefer lemon to lime for this and the similar Scotch and soda, but lime works quite well, too.
 
Scotch and Soda
 
Scotch and Soda /  Mud in your eye /  Baby, do I feel high, oh me oh my / Do I feel high.  The opening words and melody of “Scotch and Soda” from the Kingston Trio recorded in the early 1960s had been a memory of my youth from an LP of my mom’s, many years before my first taste of scotch.  Very oddly and coincidentally, the song was discovered by one of the members in the home of the parents of Tom Seaver, Tom Terrific.   
 
This is a very good way to use an affordably priced blended Scotch.  Save the more distinctive single malts for sipping solo.  Two ounces of good blended Scotch – Famous Grouse is what I am using now – mixed with five ounces of Fever Tree club soda over plenty of ice with the juice of half of a lemon, stirred a few times, just like above.
 
Campari and Soda
 
It took me quite a while to appreciate the assertively bitter Campari, maybe Italy’s most iconic liqueur.  In addition to an occasional well-made Negroni, I’ve grown to like Campari and soda, usually as a pre-dinner refresher and a liter bottle of the bold red concoction has been getting replaced at a greater clip in recent months.  I mix at least two parts Fever Tree club soda to one of Campari along with the juice of half a lime over ice is often an enjoyable and relatively low alcohol starter..
 
Gin and Tonic
 
I’ve long liked gin and tonics, mostly as a warm weather cocktail, much of the year here.  I grew a greater appreciation of these with the wonderful, inventive Spanish-style gin and tonics done up at BCN.  I haven’t tried to replicate the somewhat elaborate versions there, as I’m sure I’ll fall woefully short of its skilled bartenders, but I’ve come to appreciate the quality of Fever Tree tonic waters.  That had been affirmed at Public Services through a few, or many, gin and tonics there.  It is the tonic portion of the gin and tonic that is the most important part of the equation as it’s the largest part, so high-quality tonic water is key.  It makes a big difference.  For me, it’s Fever Tree.  Its tonic waters, in all its forms, I much prefer to the similarly priced ones from Q Tonic.
 
Concerning the fun part, the gin, though long my go-to for martinis, I’ve determined that London Dry gin, with its familiar taste featuring prominence of juniper flavors, is also my favorite for gin and tonics.  The ones I like the best are the ones among the most widely found and modestly priced: Bombay, Tanqueray, Tanqueray No. 10, and Plymouth’s.  Ford’s has been well employed at bars and restaurants.

​For me, an ideal has been either Citrus and Mediterranean Fever Tree tonic waters mixed at 2-to-1 or 2 ½-to-1 ratio to a good London Dry gin over ice with the juice of half a lime and stirred gently a few times.
 
Ranch Water
 
This drink, a popular way to take the edge of the heat in far west Texas, came to my attention in recent years, likely from Texas Monthly.  I had my first one at Eight Row Flint and was nonplussed.  As it got warmer here in the spring, and with all the limes I had courtesy of Costco packaging ethos, I thought I could actually do better at home.  I did, with some guidance.
 
Adapted from a recipe in Texas Monthly, I have been using two ounces of a nicely priced but well-done blanco tequila – mostly El Jimador and its pricier sibling Espolon – two ounces of lime Juice, which usually means two limes, poured into a pint or shaker glass with a salted rim and filled about two-thirds the way with ice.  Topo Chico is then poured over the rest and stirred a few times.  I’ve that the salt helps to balance the flavors of the tequila and lime, and its acidity.  There is a reason that margaritas are served with salted rims.  For a spicy kick, my brother-in-law suggested using jalapeño slices.  I prefer serranos.  It works well, two thin horizontal slices should provide sufficient kick for most.  Three was too many for my tastes.
 
These are the easy ones.  Look for information about the more involved, and alcoholic, ones in the near future.

At a recent virtual wine dinner at Roma in Houston, befitting the wines from a top Barbera producer in Piedmont, the first course, the antipasto, was veal tonnato.  It was easily my favorite of the three courses that night.  Veal tonnato is a classic cold veal dish in a tuna sauce usually served as a starter, which I have long really enjoyed.  For those unfamiliar with the preparation, veal and tuna might seem an odd combination, but it is actually a wonderful pairing.  If you enjoy canned tuna, in a mild form, and mayonnaise, you will like veal tonnato.  Served chilled or almost room temperature, it works well during summertime.

With the often very warm weather throughout much of the year, veal tonnato would be a welcome sight nearly year round at many Italian restaurants in Houston, but it is rarely found.  There isn’t much veal on Houston Italian restaurant menus, for one.  And, veal in tuna sauce might seem a little obscure to many.  Not only here; veal tonnato has not really found too often on Italian menus around the country.  Looking at around 650 Italian restaurant menus over the years, veal tonnato showed up on just 4% of them.  The dish is a specialty of eastern Piedmont and that’s also found in the adjacent region south of Milan.  The cuisine of that area, lauded in Italy, hasn’t been found at too many restaurants here.  It’s shame that it’s tough to find when heading out.  You might need to make it yourself:
 
Veal:
 
Veal round or shoulder – 1 ¾ pound
Carrot
Onion
Celery stalk
White wine vinegar – 1 tablespoon
Olive Oil – 1 tablespoon
Salt – 1 teaspoon
 
Sauce:
 
Canned tuna, drained – 7 ounces
Anchovy filets, drained – 3
Capers, drained and rinsed – 2 tablespoons plus 1 tablespoon for garnishing
Egg yolks, hard-boiled – 2
Olive oil – 3 tablespoons
Lemon – 1
 
Cook the veal:

1. Tie the veal with string.  
2. Add the veal, carrot, onion, celery stalk, vinegar and olive oil to the pan.
3. Add enough water to a deep pan to cover the veal, add the salt and bring to a boil.
4. Cover the pan and simmer over a low heat until the veal is tender, about two hours.
5. Turn off the heat and allow the veal to cool in the stock.

 
Make the sauce:

1. Put the tuna, anchovy, capers and hard-boiled egg yolks into a food processer and process for about 30 seconds.
2. Add in the olive oil, the juice of the lemon and about 3 tablespoons of the stock from cooking the veal and then turn on the food processors for about 15 seconds more.  The sauce should have the consistency of freshly made mayonnaise.
3. Untie the veal and slice fairly thinly.  Spoon the sauce over the veal.  Garnish with the remaining capers.  Refrigerate for at least a few hours before serving.

 
Adapted from The Silver Spoon cookbook.
 

A more artistic version of veal tonnato at a restaurant at the Enoclub restaurant in Alba, Piedmont a couple of years ago. Maybe a little bit blurry because of all the wine.

A few years ago, at a media dinner, I was seated at the same small table as Robb Walsh, the estimable former restaurant critic at the Houston Press and cookbook author.  It was a fun evening and during it Robb made the assertion that the chili at the longtime local hot dog chain James Coney Island served some very laudable chili.  I disagreed.  But, in ignorance I later realized.
 
At the time, my experience with James Coney Island – though it had included a great number of visits, well, drive-throughs over the years – was limited to their basic hot dogs, called Coneys, always ordered all the way.  These were somewhat a staple of youth and, in recent years, an order after a pint or two at happy hour.  My usual order since my youth was a few Cheese Coneys all the way.  These feature very basic hot dogs and similarly basic steamed buns along with the noticeable yellow mustard, a chili sauce or Coney Sauce, as it is monikered on the menu, then Kraft Cheese Whiz – dispensed by cheese gun – and chopped raw onions atop.  Though satiating hunger pains, for years, a meal of these were almost always quickly regrettable, often quite a bit so; even so when my taste buds might have been a little dulled.  The hot dogs, for years, have not seemed to be of particularly good quality, the buns fresh but cheap-tasting, and the thin Coney Sauce was not at all worth a visit, if helping the below average creations.
 
That Coney Sauce is not the chili I had long assumed.  That chili that Robb touted – and that makes its way on top of James Coney Island’s better hot dogs – is actually really good.  Thick, properly Texas-style chili that’s all-beef (unless ordered otherwise), long-simmered, it is nicely flavorful.  Not surprisingly it’s a bit beefy, and rich, and works extremely well with the Texas Classic All Beef Dog and the Chili Cheese Gourmet Hot Dog.  These are both worth ordering, as are nearly all of the Classic and Gourmet hot dogs.  I had given up on James Coney Island until I realized the quality of the Classic and Gourmet dogs.
 
The crux of the menu of James Coney Island is still the hot dogs.  The hot dogs come in three levels: Coneys, Classic, and Gourmet.  The Coneys are mediocre and worse basic hot dogs that range from $2.09 mostly unadorned to $2.09 plain to $2.59 with the lame Coney Sauce and Cheez Whiz mentioned above; Classics are made with fine-quality Nolan Ryan all-beef hot dogs at $3.99 with better potato buns; and Gourmet, with Hebrew National hot dogs, about the best the commercially available hot dogs, and buns from Slow Dough and the like.  I have really enjoyed the Classic and Gourmet versions.  The Gourmet ones are not worth the extra couple of dollars, though.  The hot dogs might be better, but only slightly so.  The pretzel buns sometimes used are certainly higher quality, but with the thicker texture, sometimes don’t work as well. 
 
If craving a tasty hot dog, or chili, do go to one of the James Coney Island outputs, the Classic and Gourmet hot dogs can be quite delicious.  The Classic ones are a fine value, too.  And, very nicely these days of needing to be safe, if not from excessive calories and cholesterol, you can get food at James Coney Island via a drive-thru.
 
James Coney Island
17 Houston area locations

​There is not a lot of Riesling grown in Italy. For example, in Friuli in the northeast – one of the leading areas for Riesling in the country – it accounts for only 0.16% of the total in the Friuli Grave DOC that makes up most of the region. But, where it grows it can be made into some very good wines.  I’ve had nice ones from Alto Adige, the Langhe in Piedmont and from the Oltrepo Pavese, south of Milan.
 
Italian Rieslings are usually drier and crisper than then benchmark ones, those from Germany or Alsace.  And, for me, the Italian versions have less of the signature flavor of the varietal that is not my favorite, is it beeswax?  Or petroleum (or maybe really kerosene), as I’ve also read?  My long ago work as an operator sampling those tanks in a refinery makes me think it’s beeswax, even if I’m only really familiar with the aromas rather than the flavor of the refined products.
 
An Italian Riesling that I very much liked recently was Aquila del Torre in its only expression of the varietal from Friuli north of the city of Udine and in the foothills of the Julian Alps.  With some citrus on the nose, the first sensation on the tongue was a bit of very nice effervescence from the noticeable acidity then some fruit, mostly lemon, a hint of minerality, some complexity, dryness with its 1 gram of residual sugar per liter, and well-balanced with a decently long finish.  Medium-bodied, it is just 12.5% alcohol, welcome in these days of heat-battered grapes often turning into blockbuster boozers, even whites.  Aquila del Torre Riesling is made with natural yeasts, stainless steel tanks, and is aged for twelve months on the lees, this giving it a slight bit more umph than the usual Riesling.
 
I found it flavorful and easily enjoyable.  It complemented a simply prepared sautéed white fish, though I probably liked it more as an aperitif, even as an aperitivo.
 
The wine is available in the US, at least in California and New York, but it might take some digging to find.  Prices seem to range from about $17 to $25 per bottle, very fair tariffs