I recognized “sgombro” in the title of one of the pizzas at Pizzeria Du De Cope the other evening in Verona.  Mackerel.  In a just-post-pandemic dining landscape where reservations are a near-must in most somewhat popular restaurants in Italy, we were happy and felt lucky to be able to get seated very soon after the doors had opened.  And this pizzeria is from Verona’s star chef and restaurateur Giancarlo Perbellini, who has nearly ten restaurants in Verona and elsewhere and a couple of Michelin stars at his flagship, Casa Perbellini, so maybe it wasn’t that odd to see a chef-y license with the pizza toppings.
 
One of our large group, maybe on my suggestion, ordered an unusual pizza: “Sgombro, cipolla e burrata” as it is listed on the menu.  Along with the mackerel in substantial pieces, it had buffalo mozzarella, burrata, mascarpone, halves of small perfectly ripe tomatoes, pickled red onions, pieces of basil and gratings of reserve Grana Padano cheese arrayed in nearly perfect circle of dough bounded by a high crown.  There was not just fish on the pizza but in the traditionally thought-to-be-unholy in Italy combination of fish and cheese; fish and grated cheese, too.
 
I swapped a quarter of my pie for the sgrombo and company one.  It was different, but not too different.  The firm pieces of the mackerel were mild, so the pizza was not assertively and offputtingly fishy tasting like the cheap anchovy pizzas of my distant youth.  That it was from an establishment of a top chef and in a city known for its seafood in restaurants, helped ensure that the fish was of good quality.  The bit of acidity from the pickled onions and fresh tomatoes provided a nice complement to the fish – though I might have liked a lemon wedge on the side for some more of that – and the trio of different cheeses rounded out the flavors going with the fairly sturdy crust.
 
That wasn’t the only fish on pizza during the recent two weeks in northeastern Italy.  Just across the autostrada from Soave where we spent a terrific day tasting wine is San Bonifacio, home of I Tigli, the fourth best pizzeria in all of Italy according to the reputable and useful 50 Top Pizza, which, unfortunately, did not fit into the schedule that evening or another.  It has long served a Polenta and Baccalà pizza, a version of the popular regional appetizer, whipped salted cod over polenta.  Among the fifty or so pizzas at the excellent Al Cantonet in Conegliano that I stumbled into one night were four seafood-topped ones.  A couple with swordfish carpaccio and a couple others with shrimp including that surprisingly named Tony Esposito also with pesto, tomatoes and buffalo mozzarella.  I’m pretty sure that he didn’t have anything like that when he was expertly tending goal for the Hawks in the Chicago Stadium, or on the road for that matter.
 
I was surprised to encounter fish on pizzas during this trip, but maybe I shouldn’t have been.  Fish on pizza, at least in a tamer and more famous form, has been around for forty years, ever since Wolfgang Puck put smoked salmon along with crème fraiche and caviar on a pizza for the actress Joan Collins on the road to stardom.

A big glass at that.  On my last night in Italy recently, I went ambling out from my hotel on an early evening with the temperature around ninety accompanied by plenty of uncomfortable humidity in an attempt to snag an initial dinner spot in one of the better restaurants near the historic center of the small town of Conegliano; my e-mails requesting a reservation at maybe the best one went unanswered for the second day in a row.  My first choice was to open at 6:30 according Google, and I wanted to grab a glass of wine or two beforehand in a smart wine bar of which several assuredly existed within a block or two or so.  After all, Conegliano is the home of first school of viticulture and enology in Italy and a base for the prosecco region, a wine style that originated there.   
 
These certain-to-exist wine bars either were not near the old part of town, not what I envisioned or not open around 5:30.  So, I continued to walk toward the restaurant in mind.  It was warm.  After absorbing some more of the weather, I decided to stop into a bar that didn’t appear too promising at first glance, but it was open and it had some semblance of air conditioning.  Bar Ciotta’s.  Serendipitous, as it turned out.  Just opening, the owner was friendly, energetic, evidently passionate about food and wine, thankfully spoke much more English than I did of Italian, and had a really neat short list of wines on a chalkboard on the wall.
 
Still sweating, I ordered a glass of the Piazza Extra Dry Prosecco for all of €3 for a substantial pour in a large wine glass.  I usually prefer Extra Dry for Prosecco, especially on a hot day.  It is just slightly sweeter than the ubiquitous Brut, with typically 12 to 17 grams per liter of residual sugar versus less than 10.  The folks at the informative Wine Folly site seem to agree: “if you haven’t had an Extra Dry Prosecco yet, this style offers a great balance between Prosecco’s fruit, tingly acidity, and subtle sweetness.”
 
The Piazza has even a just little more sugar than typical, about 18  grams per liter, but the wine was nicely balanced and still quite dry, with evident acidity and prefaced with a hint of apples on the nose and soft citrus flavors, all of which I found perfect that late afternoon, especially for the price.  A second one was necessary.  Only 8,000 bottles of this made each year, so it is probably impossible to find here, but Prosecco Extra Dry is something you might want to try, if you enjoy an occasional glass of Prosecco.  It seems to go very well with summer weather there and here.

Chianti is the most recognizable name and image in Italian wine – the Chianti flask – and a fixture at Italian restaurants since there were Italian restaurants in this country.  Though the name “Chianti” is certainly well known, the region and its range of wines not so much.  There is actually a lot to Chianti.  These are both the recognizable, easily consumable and also the hearty and serious red wines from the beautiful, tourist-trafficked heart of Tuscany. 
 
What these have in common is a distinctive, familiar Italian red wine taste: slight bitterness, with a definite tartness along with an earthiness or dustiness, plus cherry, plum or strawberry notes, all of which help make them eminently food-friendly.  These are the prototypically Italian wines for many, and range fairly widely in terms of richness, tannins and complexity, and price, of course.
 
The famous emblem of the Gallo Nero, the black rooster, of Chianti Classico denotes the birthplace and historic heart of Chianti and is home to the most of the most renowned and expensive bottlings, some of which don’t carry the Chianti name at all – those Super Tuscans that grew out from the slow-moving bureaucracy of the wine region a few decades ago.  In addition to Chianti Classico, there are seven, soon to be eight, other subregions plus the overarching Chianti DOC.  So, ten appellations for Chianti, in all.  The Chianti name is spread over larger area of Tuscany than ever before, with well over 3,000 producers.  It’s also better than ever, and maybe more confusing. Then, Chianti Classico has eight subzones.
 
I have certainly drunk a lot of Chianti over the years, purchase it on a regular basis, and have even visited the area a few times, but my knowledge about it was comparatively limited.  A seminar in January hosted by the Chianti consortium helped to grow my understanding.   
 
In 1996, the Chianti Classico zone became independent from the Chianti DOC and the terms for one are a little than for the other.  The larger Chianti area – from Chianti DOC – regulates that wine under the Chianti banner must be between 70% and 100% Sangiovese, including up to 10% that can be white.  Chianti was once known a white wine region, after all.  There are three main categories, which are predicated on aging: annata, the wines that are ready on March 1 after the harvest; Superiore, with at least a year of aging; and Riserva that has two years aging in the cellar.   
 
The fresh young Chiantis, the annata bottlings, are among my favorite wines to consume when I am in central Italy.  These more inexpensive wines are not as imported as readily and are meant to be consumed quickly.  I do enjoy each of the styles when well made, as the good bottlings are “always in balance,” something that the brand ambassador at the seminar and tasting stressed.  The eight wines in the tasting certainly were.  Delicious, too, for the most part.  At events like this, I put a check mark for the wines I am impressed with and truly enjoy.  I checked six of the eight.  My favorites were an annata from Colli Senesi, which is my favorite subzone, where the wines are about the richest in all of Chianti, being the furthest south and often made from Brunello producers who might also have very similar tasting Rosso di Montalcinos.  Three of my other favorites were also 100% Sangiovese like that one, but Riservas from 2018.  Even bigger, more deeply flavored, more complex.  All the wines were indeed very balanced, with very nice fruit – often missing in lackluster bottles – noticeable acidity and a proper amount of tannins depending on the style.  And the wines were without the hint of mustiness that I often associated with Chianti.
 
I’d recommend learning more about Chianti.  That means purchasing and drinking more Chianti.  It will make your meal taste better, and for more than with pizza and tomato sauces.  Nicely, these can still be price performers, making the exploration easier.

I am a big homer for the Houston, but I have to admit that, unfortunately, as good of a restaurant city that it is, Houston is a fairly poor place for pizzerias.  There are a lot of middling, mediocre and lousy pies being dished in pizza joints throughout the area.  And I have eaten a lot of pizzas here over the years, probably too many including for my forlorn Margherita Pizza Project where I tried almost every local version of that famous concoction, nearly one hundred in all.  Not too many here were worth ordering. 
 
In addition to scarfing too many pizzas, for the some of the writing I had done on the subject, I was tapped for an episode on The Food That Built America on The History Channel entitled “Pizza Wars” that initially aired early in 2021.  (I was followed by Top Chef host Padma Lakshmi on one the snippets; she was very polished and gorgeous, and I was somewhat the opposite.) 
 
It hasn’t helped that he pizza game here has taken some hits in recent years.  What was the easily the best pizzeria for quite a while, Dolce Vita, shuttered.  Though its sister restaurant alludes to Dolce Vita pizzas on its menu, these are really flatbreads, not made with pizza dough as is familiar nor cooked in a pizza oven.  Go to Poscol, but don’t order the pizzas.  Other closures helped to lighten an already weak field.  That includes Fresco on the Southwest Freeway had very enjoyable take on the Roman pizza al taglio, and those were just a secondary effort.  Then there is Kenneally’s, which actually used to have excellent pizzas.  These were the original pizzas in Chicago when my father was growing up in Chicago, thin-crust and cut in squares that were devised by immigrants from the Naples area or their offspring.  Those pizzas in recent years have been pretty much terrible, even quite burnt a few weeks ago.  The recipes appear to be the same, but no one there has known how to make or bake a pizza for quite a while.  A few other pizza stars of years past also don’t seem nearly as proficient as they once did.
 
But there is plenty of which to choose here, at least stylistically.  In Houston you can find interpretations of New York-style, hearty Chicago deep-dish, Detroit-style, its cugino Sicilian-style – I think these are still to be found – Neapolitan-style, more broadly Italian-style masquerading under the moniker “Neapolitan,” Roman al taglio style (thick and soft sold in squares), Roman tonda (cracker-thin crust), etc.  I like them all, when made fairly well, at least.  Most evident with the barely topped margheritas, the crust is a noticeable problem at a great many pizzerias here.  Maybe it’s the humidity.
 
This list of pizzerias is much shorter than it should be for the fourth-largest city in the country.  But, to note, when looking for top-notch pizza in the Italian vein, some of the very best are actually at restaurants that serve these most as a shareable starter: Amalfi, Da Marco, and Rosie Cannonball head the list.  Each serves a rendition of the Neapolitan-style.  The small pizzas at the newish Trattoria Sofia are well-done, too.
 
Listed in order of preference.
 
The Best
 
Tiny Champions – Something more than just a pizzeria – with fresh pastas, nicely crafted cocktails, and house-made ice cream from the highly regarded folks at Nancy’s Hustle – it’s also clearly the best pizzeria in Houston.  The pizzas look a lot like those in Italy, but with a flavor that has a touch of a New York accent, buoyed by a delicious bready-tasting crust for a uniquely Houston style, possibly.  That crust is the difference-maker here.  A smattering of excellent ingredient on top and skill with the oven ensures that these pizzas taste amazing even when picked up and eaten at home and through all the slices, as these were during the depths of the pandemic.  High praise, indeed.  EaDo
 
Second Tier
 
Roberta’s – The original in Brooklyn gain considerable fame for more than just the pizzas, but those were deemed “marvelous things” in an early New York Times review.  The topping combinations are unusual, but very nicely chosen, with meat none of which is pepperoni only showing up in two of the creations.  The dough is the key, though.  Made, it seems, with equal parts the finely milled 00 flour used for pizzas in Naples and the all-purpose flour helping to provide a flavorful and fairly light but sturdy enough foundation.  Though the new Post Market is wonderfully diverse in dining options and patrons, the small, simple operation has none of the funkiness or charm of the original.  No matter, get down there to pick up an excellent pie.  Downtown
BOH Pasta and Pizza – Hearty rectangles of Roman-style pizza al taglio are done quite well here, with airy, clean-tasting crusts and an appealing combinations.  Sold by the slice when sitting at one of the seats just inside the entrance at Bravery Chef Hall, these hold up quite nicely to the necessary re-heating.  Downtown
Vinny’s – This fairly small antiseptic storefront on evening-bustling St. Emanuel Street in EaDo from the folks at Agricole Hospitality (Coltivare, Eight Row Flint) that have two other concepts adjacent, Indianola and Miss Carousel, dishes up some really nice pies in very broadly New York vein, available with some fun combinations atop a lighter, tastier crust than most. Served in 16” sizes and by the slice.  EaDo
Grimaldi’s – This nationwide chain that began life in Brooklyn won acclaim there – it was named one of the two best restaurants in that borough some twenty years ago in Zagat – and in locations here does a very commendable job with New York City-style pies featuring dough made daily in-house and pies baked in prominently displayed blistering hot coal-fired brick ovens.  Their pizzas are among the best in the area.  Even the tough-to-do-even-decently margherita is worth ordering here.  CityCentre, Sugar Land, Katy, Friendswood, The Woodlands
Buffalo Bayou Brewery – The pizzas at this attractive brewery are worth a visit here alone.  A lot of attention is paid to the crust here – “ we cold ferment our pizza dough for 72 hours” – and it shows, with a lighter, more flavorful base than the vast of majority of places around.  Fun and quality ingredients cooked properly complete the attractive picture here.  Also, uniquely, you can dust your crust with Cheetos, dried ranch dressing or garlic-Parmesan.  You likely don’t want to do that.  First Ward
Rudyard’s – With pizzaiolo Anthony Calleo formerly of the popular Pi Pizza heading the kitchen in recent years, the pies at this long-standing Montrose neighborhood bar and showcase club can be quite tasty, both in the “Houston” style – that might be somewhere between New York and Naples with a sturdy, tasty crust with an appropriate number of toppings – and the necessarily very hearty and greasy rectangular Detroit style.  Worth a pick up to eat at home, too.  Montrose
 
Usually Enjoyable Enough
 
Pizzeraia Solario – Neapolitan-inspired pizzas are done fairly well here, individually sized and with usually clean flavors from decent ingredients.  This small, cheekily-designed place, where it can be is easy to order wine, has been fine choice for nearly a decade now, just around the corner from Costco.  Greenway Plaza
Luna Pizzeria – Inconsistent, these places are sometimes very good, sometimes middling, at best, but always a very good deal for a weekday lunch, and with an unfailingly friendly staff, indicative of the restaurant group, that helps make for an enjoyable visit.  The pies coming out of the gas ovens are little different with a thicker, soft crust that is usually enjoyably savory and quite supportive of the noticeably fine quality toppings.  Upper Kirby, Heights, Briargrove
Pizaro’s – Generally fairly good, if nothing special.  It rose to attention about fifteen years ago with its traditional Neapolitan pizzas, but the offerings have expanded and the near polar opposite Detroit-style pies are the tastiest here these days.  Montrose, West Houston
Piola – Italians seem to like the pizzas here, at least Italians not from the Naples area and maybe Rome, too. This is a smart-looking chain that began in Treviso just outside of Venice, quite far from the pizza heartland, which has franchised locations in south Florida and a couple here.  Thin and appropriately dressed in Italian style, there are numerous individually sized pizzas from which to choose plus even cauliflower and chia flour crusts to accommodate the traditionally pizza-adverse.  A lengthy menu beyond pizzas, too.  Midtown, Briargrove
The Gypsy Poet – In a lightly trafficked section of Midtown, individual thin-crust Italianate pies dished in a sociable DIY-esque setting featuring a prominent open kitchen with a staff chattering in Spanish have won fans since opening a few years ago.  The pizzas are alright and can make for an enjoyable visit – I’ve been several times – but are generally more attractive than flavorful, judiciously topped on a fairly bland crust.  There are more than a few beers and wines to help with a meal, though not a lot of interest for the latter beyond a few selections sourced from the local French Country Wines.  Midtown

An individual pizza at Luna Pizzeria

I do enjoy them, but to be honest, breakfast tacos are almost never great.  At best, these are good but very welcome on a slower, foggier weekend morning.  Though a guilty, easily greatly caloric morning pleasure, these really aren’t the breakfast of champions, unless you’re aiming for champion-size sumo proportions.  And breakfast tacos don’t get the recognition that the more familiar ones – pastor, carne asada, etc. – receive, nor do these deserve it.  These are generally not as interesting nor tasty.  More care is usually put into the daytime tacos by the taqueros.  But, sometimes nothing is better on a lazy weekend morning, or very early in the morning as the night has wound done.  For this kind of weekend food, often for those with a mild hangover or worse, a drive-thru is a big benefit for which a couple recommendable spots can oblige so that Taco Cabana and Chacho’s can be avoided.
 
Breakfast tacos, for me: moist scrambled eggs and most often a protein or potatoes wrapped in a study-enough flour tortilla – recently made in house by experienced hands, ideally – and aided by a flavorful salsa that complements and ties together the components.  Flour tortillas are the standard, as the staffer at Hugo Ortega’s latest venture Urbe confirmed assertively when I asked which type of tortilla works best for the tacos I was ordering.  But corn tortillas are becoming a more familiar as an option at more than a few places now.  The universe of breakfast tacos is expanding.  Tortillas made in house might be ideal if there is a skilled tortilla-maker on site, but there are high quality tortillerias in town, and with it, and the volume most places do, tortillas are always fresh-tasting.
 
Breakfast tacos are an American thing, as far as I can tell and originally a Texas thing, though the breakfast burrito and similar items are probably from points further west.  These seemingly don’t exist in Mexico other than for barbacoa – that eggless, heart-endangering, usually weekend pleasure – for which I received some more recent confirmation from current and former residents.  Scrambled eggs stuck into a tortilla with salsa seems like such a natural thing, but this combination hasn’t been around forever.  Breakfast tacos might have had their start in San Antonio, and Texas Monthly claimed to have found an ad from a paper there in the 1950s mentioning those.  I began to notice them in Houston in the 1990s, though maybe these existed before then.  I don’t remember them in my earlier time in Austin, though.
 
To note, I’ve mostly included places where it’s easy to get them, not the places serving breakfast as part of a large morning ensemble meant most for dining in.  Some of these can be good, but not terribly convenient nor quick, and that’s usually part of the attraction of breakfast tacos.

The restaurants are listed in order of preference.

Updated on May 8, 2022.

The Best

Tacos A Go Go – You’ll have to wait at least a short while for these cooked-to-order morning sensations that are necessarily customized, two items from a choice of a dozen quality options – bacon, sausage, refried beans, etc. – to complement the scrambled eggs, which means shredded cheese can be added for no additional cost, usually a significant benefit.  The number of possible creations are generally welcome, but can require some additional thinking during those much slower weekend mornings.  Along with tacos with the expected fillings, for a little more there are eggs with lamb barbacoa, a really tasty pork guisada, carne guisada, and smoked brisket.  A variety of delicious, mostly piquant salsas can complement any creation, which are available on either flour or corn tortillas, and also whole wheat, for some reason.  Wrapped just in aluminum foil, these tacos travel well, too.  Midtown, Heights, Garden Oaks, Downtown

The Second Best

Tio Trompo – A tiny, newish counter-service spot on Shepherd just past St. Thomas High School, this specializes in pastor-filled tacos cooked on the trompo, but does an excellent job with made-to-order, two-item breakfast tacos and the messier, more authentically Mexican barbacoa, which is served daily in case your cholesterol is too low. Well-wrapped in paper and aluminum foil, the former travel quite well.  The latter are still quite tasty, if always a bit fatty and invariably sloppy.  Washington Corridor
La Carreta – This low-volume spot set unassumingly on 20th Street in the Heights for nearly fifty years serves up some terrific straightforward breakfast tacos that are more than the sum of its parts led by tasty house-made flour tortillas and a different, watery salsa with a subtle spicy flavor that seems to improve everything.  Made to order and travels well.  Heights
El Charro – The fairly spiffy location on Harrisburg is quite cheap and convenient – if you live in or not too far from the East End – and with a drive-thru.  It does a more than commendable job with these basic renditions, as with it does with most its offerings, and for a terrific value.  Excellent salsas and machacado and eggs, too.  East End, Alief
Urbe – Opened in the summer of 2021, this attractive and inviting outpost featuring street food from top toque Hugo Ortega and team (Hugo’s, Caracol, Xochi) in Uptown Park is necessarily more ambitious, wide-ranging and accomplished than just about any taco purveyor around.  Tacos here include more items, and likely of higher quality, than elsewhere and are available with either flour or corn tortillas; the former should be the choice, of course.  Uptown Park
Taco 7 – Available in the biggest array of breakfast combinations around - including a choice among four different types of cheese - it can be a little confusing for a first-timer to order, but the staff is helpful, and tacos are hefty and very enjoyable.  And, convenience of conveniences especially on those slower weekend mornings, it has a drive-thru.  Spring Branch
The Taco Stand – Far from a taco stand, this slick operations on Shepherd in the Heights – a sibling of The Burger Joint next door – offers plump and usually delectable breakfast tacos that can be had in fresh flour tortillas, or corn for about thirty cents less.  Tortillas are made in house, though the flour ones are vegan; no tasty manteca de cerdo in the mix.  These tacos aren’t the cheapest around, but worth it, and these are nicely available until 11 each morning, and with a drive-thru, which is at least as nice.  It’s better to arrive before then because the breakfast versions are much tastier than the later-day ones.  Also, the viscous Taqueria Arandas-style green salsa significantly aids any of the morning offerings.  Heights
La Chingada – Assembled to order with a fair number of fillings stuffed inside house-made flour tortillas for a plump, satisfying result that’s wrapped in aluminum foil to go and served with a trio of commendable salsas: a fiery orange, a piquant serrano-based whipped green, and a fairly mild tomatillo one.  A fine value at around $3 each, the breakfast tacos are served daily, and that includes the barbacoa at this friendly, slightly funky spot not far west of I-45 and close to the Heights.  Near Northside
Laredo Taqueria – Four locations, including the seemingly-always-line-out-the-door original on Washington.  Available with either flour or corn tortillas, and $3 each for the standard two-item versions – mostly egg and something else, of course, but barbacoa daily – that are straightforward and satisfying, especially with aid from the spicy viscous green salsa or the piquant, thin red one.  From a steam table that is replenished more often than most anywhere else, a smear of refried beans provides a base on the tortilla of choice, with the flour tortillas noticeably fresh and flavorful and the fluffy scrambled eggs plentiful; the proteins are used much more judiciously than elsewhere, but you will get pleasantly stuffed for less than $10 here. Washington Corridor and Near Northside (3)
Revival Market – Only one option, as a plate with a side, featuring supermarket aisle-quality flour tortillas and without any additional salsa that is kind of pricey for what it is, but very tasty and definitely worth an order.  Other than the tortillas, the ingredients are as good or better than anywhere else, which is what you would expect from this restaurant cum artisanal butcher and food shop. Heights
Cantina Barba – Cooked to order, and solid and sensibly-sized, these are served all day and with the option for corn tortillas. And, it is open until 2 AM, in case taste matters that late.  Near Northside

Bueno Enough

El Rey – Wrapped in paper then aluminum foil, these plump tacos are available in enough varieties to satisfy most including a Cuban version with black beans providing the protein. The drive-thrus are an important consider. Like The Taco Stand, just go for breakfast not for the afternoon tacos.  Washington Corridor, Garden Oaks, Spring Branch, Katy
La Mexicana – A solid choice featuring items dished from steam trays piled into large flour tortillas toasted on the plancha; not helped by two of the lamest salsas to be found, especially a slightly sweet green one, but these are served all day. Montrose
Henderson and Kane – Low-volume with service that’s always slow, but the breakfast tacos are well-done, made to order featuring pretty tasty flour tortillas made in house and thick slices of bacon that is much higher quality than you’ll find in most other versions around, and the it offers the chance to enjoy beef brisket in the AM.  For this, and all the morning tacos, skip the forgettable green salsa and pour on the piquant and flavorful reddish one.  Sixth Ward
La Vibra – This modern taco stop serves some different types of notably artisanal tacos rooted in Mexico City. The morning versions are more local and less interesting, but are cooked to order and can be satisfying.  Heights
La Guadalupana – The breakfast tacos at this quaint and popular café aren’t as good as they once were, and one of the other breakfast choices is a better option these days. Smaller-sized and utilizing commercial tortillas, the salsas are tasty and an order of the morning tacos can still usually satiate.  Montrose
Brothers Taco House – A value provider as generous portions are scooped from the trays in the steam table beginning with a smear of refried beans into pretty good flour tortillas in an efficient fashion as the every-present line moves quickly.  Its versions are solid if the salsas don’t add too much, with the barbacoa being one of the better choices here. EaDo
El Sol Mejicano – Across from the police headquarters, these very no-frills versions – well-cooked scrambled eggs and another thing – are hefty and generally satisfying, cooked to order and with quality salsas for some necessary extra flavor.  Downtown
El Topo – The near-polar opposite of El Sol Mejicano and Brothers Taco, this offers a chef-y, pricey version of the breakfast taco set in the heart of an upscale, largely white neighborhood.  There are only a couple of breakfast taco options – a solid, not-so-value-oriented rendition of beef barbacoa and a loaded bacon, potato, egg and cheese one – and only open at 9:00; a big breakfast is not needed is these parts.  The loaded option is the largest breakfast taco to be found in town, a true one’s-a-meal for most, which can be complemented with easily the least spicy salsas around.  West U
Papalo Taqueria – This artisanal taqueria in Finn Hall in the heart of the office towers, with a weekend gig at the large farmers market, seemingly has to serve breakfast tacos during the week to help pay for the certainly considerable rent.  Their heart doesn't seem to be in it, as these pre-made tacos aren't nearly as enjoyable nor interesting as their lunchtime and more truly Mexican preparations.  Downtown
The Pit Room – Only recommendable for dine-in, as these travel poorly.  House-made flour tortillas anchors these very big and bold versions with eggs that are cooked upon order and slathered with a very healthy amount of well creamed refried beans.  The brisket tacos are a wonder, but are not enjoyable too many minutes past ordering even though well-wrapped in paper and aluminum foil; but maybe that’s part of the problem, as there’s just too much moisture in the meat and the eggs that are cooked to a wet consistency.  Actually, nothing travels well at all, with or without the refried beans on the bottom.  Montrose
Chilosos –  Though not nearly in the same league as the tacos from nearby La Carreta or La Chingada, this spot has been popular for years with Heights residents. The breakfast tacos are huge, and so a fine value.  Otherwise, the straightforward tacos feature house-made flour tortillas that are little thicker and gummier and less tasty than typical – corn is an option, too – and salsas that are also less flavorful, even as the green one packs some heat.  Made to order, the orders can be quite slow to fulfill on weekends and the setting is rather cramped and charmless as you wait.  Heights

I don’t believe that it is fair to review, or judge too much, a restaurant after a single visit, but the outlines for the new Wild Oats in the commercial farmers market on Airline seem clear and probably won’t deviate much in the near future.  Most importantly for me, the food and drink are excellent – from a menu laden with mostly very hearty options – as top-notch cooking and accompanying beverages to be expected from a restaurant from Chris Shepherd and team these days.  The setting, in the nicely casual side vein, befitting its spot in a pleasant industrial structure adjacent to the farmers market, is heavy on the Texas theme, cringingly so at times and the noise level because of some design mistakes is excruciatingly high.
 
The best first, what comes from the kitchen, bar, and from the wine list.  We began with cocktails, Paloma for me, and a Chilton for my charming and also witty, I suppose, dining companion.  Both were delicious, and better than usual; the Paloma drink dangerously quickly on a warm evening, and in a warm restaurant.  She drank the Chilton in a surprisingly more measured pace.  For food, it started with chili, that Texas favorite, which is actually not found that often on local menus, comes in three sizes, a cup and a bowl, of course, and a shot.  Also planning on an appetizer, it was a shot for each of us, an engaging and fun way to start a meal here.  It was terrific, meaty and properly bean-free, much more complex and flavorful than the version of Lady Bird Johnson’s chili I make somewhat regularly (and which is actually usually quite tasty).  That appetizer, thankfully just one given its size, was the queso.  It is a production that includes a dramatic, large fried potato that looked like a sheet of chicharron, beef fat-laden flour tortillas, a jar of nopalitos; sturdy house-made chips, and a slightly sweet green salsa.  The preternaturally melted processed orange cheese-food that was the queso was fine, very thin and straightforward, if far from fine dining.  Enjoyable, this is not a must-order, though, and it’s somewhat of a lower-key outlier with the rest of the well-crafted items on the menu.
 
For the main, though hardly a Texas staple, but a favorite of my childhood, I opted for that evening’s special, pierogies, as our server said that these were lighter than my other choice, the pork shank.  These were filled primarily with nicely moist and flavorful braised rabbit topped with some more chopped rabbit.  Very tasty and nicely put together, if not light at all, probably the heartiest pierogies I’ve ever had, which is something.  The other order, a quail preparation, two of the small birds that were bacon-wrapped and filled with corn bread stuffing and served with cream cheese and jalapeño slices, was eaten ravenously.  The small piece I had was a little overcooked and dry, but maybe that was the only part of it that was.  No desserts; we were stuffed.  We ordered heavily but the menu is heavy-dish-laden, too much so for my tastes. 
 
For the necessary wine, we enjoyed a really nice, ready-to-drink 2019 Barbaresco from Luigi Giordano, a producer that has found a home on many Houston area lists, for $78 the complemented both of the entrées quite well.  The wine list from Matthew Pridgen is predictably engaging, nicely-edited and affordable for a restaurant of this quality.  It is easy to choose well and without too much stress on the pocketbook here. 
 
Service was a little slow at times, including receiving menus as we were told they restaurant did not have many of them, but friendly.
 
Now the bad and I guess ugly: décor was homey in a Texas-through-a-Disney-esque-lens and did not work well at all to our eyes: an amazing number of quilted throw pillows on the benches lining one wall; cloth half curtains on the windows looking like cheap gunny sacks; and the bill delivered in an old steel Gilley’s beer can.  Even worse was the noise level.  It was very, very loud even being only two-thirds filled.  We had a tough time carrying on a conversation even with an empty table next to us.  Ridiculous.  The dining area consists of three rooms plus a bar area and a patio.  We sat in one with a fairly low ceiling, which certainly made it worse, but there are just too many hard surfaces throughout.  We thought that it was a poorly designed restaurant, and one of us believed it was very unattractive, somewhat insultingly so, also.  As much as we enjoyed the food and drink, we won’t be rushing back.
 
Wild Oats
2520 Airline (south of I-610), 77009, (713) 393-7205
wildoatshouston.com

Somewhat for an upcoming trip to Italy, the first overseas since the advent of the pandemic, I was recently reviewing notes from one I took to the region of the Marche with the Gruppo Ristoranti Italiani (GRI), an organization that the celebrated restaurateur Tony May helped found back in 1979.  May’s recent passing help remind me what an influence he had on moving Italian cuisine and restaurants in this country to become more Italian, grander, and generally much better.
 
May was exceedingly knowledgeable about the fare throughout Italy, and he was happy to share his insights with me on a few occasions.  Born Antonio Magliulo south of Naples, May had traveled extensively throughout the county and was familiar with the leading restaurateurs, chefs and food producers.  His pan-Italian Palio in Manhattan’s then-new Equitable Building that opened in 1986 took its name from the annual horse races in Siena, which featured a noteworthy, dramatic mural from the Tuscan artist Sandro Chia, and had a kitchen headed by a top chef from the far northern Alto Adige.  After departing Palio, he opened San Domenico – long regarded as the best Italian restaurant in New York – a transplant of sorts from the famed restaurant in Emilia-Romagna that has carried the tradition of the cooking for Italian aristocratic households, along with great attention to its locale not far from that rich gastronomic capital of Bologna. 
 
As I learned more about Italian food, the food of Italy, it seemed that it was really local or regional cuisines, all largely tied to a particular area.  That was reinforced in many books and articles over the years including a couple at home.  My copy of the long-useful The Italian Food Guide from the Touring Club of Italy a couple decades ago wrote in its introduction to the country that “It is a short step from local produce to local dishes.  To tell the truth, local cooking has always fascinated even the most refined intellectuals” (even if I might not be one of those).  In a similar vein, the phone book-sized resource resting by my stovetop, La Cucina: The Regional Cooking of Italy from the impressive-sounding Accademia Italiana della Cucina, describes that the “most striking aspect of the book remains the enormous quantity of recipes and their close relationship to the places where they are eaten.”
 
So, it was interesting for me to learn that May had a different – and even controversial – idea about Italian cooking.  “There is no regional cuisine.  Italy has always had two cuisines, that of the aristocracy and that of the people” was what he said to me in the seaside town of Pesaro on a GRI trip there in 2011.  “The cuisine of the aristocracy was always much lighter than that of the regular people,” while the poorer “Italians were just limited by their local products.”  And “today you can find Milanese in Palermo, Romans in Naples, and people from the South in the North.”  The local diets have become much more diverse.  And much richer, more protein, more meat.  And there are more and nicer restaurants with dishes moving about.  First, spaghetti and clams and more recently cacio e pepe can be found throughout a large part of the country plus a number of others.  At the least, May was on to something, and before most others.

Tajarin with white truffles at the San Marco in Canelli near Asti a few years ago

I really never watch those cooking competition shows – I like to see food that’s cooked at restaurants, where people can actually experience it – but I have been tuning into the current season of Top Chef airing now on Bravo that is set in Houston, enjoyably catching some of the featured local sites and restaurateurs.  The other night, a good portion of the show was filmed at the attractive, small Bethel Park that is mostly the structure of the former Bethel Missionary Baptist Church at 801 Andrews Street, which was one of the oldest churches in the Fourth Ward, in Freedmen’s Town.  The name of the theme for that setting was soul food in its various, very personal interpretations.
 
In the day-before the competition tour of the park, the contestants feasted on food brought in by This is It, the longtime soul food favorite that is now in the Third Ward.  Many Houstonians will remember its nearly four-decade tenure on Gray Street just west of Bagby, at the juncture of Midtown and the Fourth Ward.  Having This is It was an especially good choice.  Not only a long-popular place broadly fitting the show’s theme, it began life in the late 1950s a scant two blocks west at 1003 Andrews Street.  That fact wasn’t mentioned in the show.
 
I actually saw the filming of the episode, or rather the outside of the filming on a Chamber of Commerce day last fall.  I live even closer to the site than the original location of This is It and that morning noticed one of the adjacent streets blocked off with police officers in front and much of the exterior of the park covered in tarp.  That was odd.  The public park is essentially only open for private events, but having the its entire half-block obscured from view was quite unusual.  But, the filming did turn out well.
 
Though I don’t get invited to too many things anymore, as there are no longer local Zagat editors and the my food writing output is rather scant these days, I was somewhat miffed I didn’t get one for that.  It was just a very short stroll down the street after all and Top Chef host Padma Lakshmi actually appeared in back-to-back snippets in The Food That Built America on The History Channel.  It was an episode entitled “Pizza Wars” that initially aired earlier this year.  She was very polished and gorgeous, and I was rather the opposite; it had been a while since I had been in front of the cameras.  And it might be a while until the next time.  A cameo in something filmed in my neighborhood would have been quite cool, even with no speaking lines.

Tio Trompo on Shepherd just past Saint Thomas High School is a quaint, fairly new taqueria set in a derelict little retail center – the other business there is shuttered – with a limited menu, but what it offers, and its value, is well worth a trip for anyone who enjoys casual Mexican food.  As the name suggests, the trompo, the vertical spit used to cook pork al pastor, is a key attraction.  That slowly roasted pork, which retains its moistness unlike at far too many taquerias in Houston, makes its way into traditional tacos, tortas and something called the Torta Arabe.  That was a new one for me.
 
Described on the menu as white pork "Trompo" meat on a pita bread, it was larger than a taco and quite like a gyro or shawarma but with Mexican flavors.  Featuring tender, flavorful pork that I slathered with the fiery reddish salsa stuffed into a large pita- and tortilla-like bread, it was delicious.  And just $6, too.
 
Though I was not exactly familiar with this large taco-style item, its name was not surprising as I was familiar with the story of Lebanese immigrants bringing the trompo to Mexico a century or so ago.  The taco arabe, I have come to learn, is a specialty of the city of Puebla that is southeast of Mexico City and the birthplace of mole poblano and chiles en nogada, not bad company. 
 
Tio Trompo
316 Shepherd (at Feagan), 77007, (832) 804-6364  
tiotrompo.com

The Washington Post very recently published “A local’s guide to Houston,” just the sixth one joining Phoenix, Moscow, Montreal, Bogata, and Madrid in a seemingly new project by the paper.  The concise guide is actually pretty good, especially when highlighting cultural and recreational spots, but as a former author and contributor to guidebooks about Houston, I do have a few quibbles with the restaurants and bars recommended, of course.  I’m a critic; I criticize. 
 
Within the format of the guide, which I think is well done, here are restaurants to replace several of those recommended:

• EggHaus Gourmet – A rather obscure and singular place near Timbergrove from the folks at King’s Bierhaus serving breakfast tacos and odd versions of kolaches – ever heard of a bratwurst kolache?  Replacement: Kolache Shoppe –  These two locations are easily the two best outposts for kolaches in Houston and likely the entire state – Weikel's Bakery in La Grange is the only serious challenger I’ve found – and the drive-thru of the Heights spot is the source of a mini-traffic jam every weekend morning.
• The Rice Box – The coolly set little Chinese-American place on the curve on Shepherd across the street from The Backstreet Café attracts a younger set. Replacement: Pepper Twins – One of the several home-grown Sichuan-specialists is on West Gray, a half-mile away, serving far better food in the Chinese vein, it has resonated with both the growing Chinese community and any diner who enjoys usually well-crafted food with noticeably high quality ingredients.
• Ninfa’s on Navigation – The Tex-Mex landmark that help instigate the fajita craze several decades ago was a Houston favorite for years. Replacement: El Tiempo on Navigation – Ninfa Laurenzo’s family long ago moved on to El Tiempo and has seemingly much of the former staff at Ninfa’s; serving similar fare, but just much better and in a much more consistent fashion, especially those grilled steak offerings.
• Mai’s – The Midtown spot that had served as introduction to Vietnamese for many college students has been known mostly for its late hours, post bar, when the dishes happened to taste a lot better. Replacement: Thien An Sandwiches – There are still a number of Vietnamese restaurants in Midtown, though not as many as in years past, and the no-frills Thein An is the best, serving excellent versions of all the local favorites across banh mi, bun, com dia, banh cuon, and pho – where the old school tripe and tendon can still be added.  It does close at 6:00, unfortunately.
• Tacos Tierra Caliente – The food truck across the street from the West Alabama Ice House is alright, if nothing special other than it’s often quite handy location. Replacement: Master Taco – A few blocks away on Richmond and Woodhead, this friendly daytime and early evening spot from a family from the state of Guerrero, in which Acapulco is located, crafts some terrific small tacos on both corn and flour tortillas, both house-made.
• Coltivare – This place on White Oak can be credited with generating interest in the Heights as a dining destination, though it’s been surpassed by several other restaurants in the neighborhood. Replacement: Squable – Comfort, wit, intelligence, experience and a lot skill are hallmarks of this eclectic eatery that is especially good with breads and cocktails and almost everything, actually, as it is the top dining spot in the Heights, and one of the best in the city.
• True Anomaly and Truckyard – A new brewery and a fun, tacky, beer garden imported from Dallas were two of the recommendations for EaDo.  Given my experiences, I cannot suggest visiting a small domestic brewery in good conscience, and there are better options in EaDo for those past their mid-twenties to imbibe than the Truckyard. Replacements: J-Bar-M and Tiny Champions – The new barbecue joint is not only the slickest in the area, it serves up fantastic ‘cue and with an expansive, attractive bar and plenty of seating with views of some of the nearby downtown skyline. Tiny Champions, a funky place with well-crafted pastas, cocktails, ice cream and pizzas.  It’s the best pizza joint in town these days.

 
And a couple of other things worth revision:

• “Don’t leave without having: A rib-eye at any of the bars that hosts a steak night throughout the week…”  I had to laugh at this, as did a friend in the hospitality business and a former bar owner here.  Neither of us could recall a decent steak we’ve had at any bar’s steak night over the years, and it’s got to be tougher to pull off with more expensive beef these days.  These promotions don’t exactly draw the most demanding diners.
• “But the local favorite is really: Food trucks….”  There might be a number of food trucks in Houston, but with our usually hot and humid weather, the area is not as well suited to food trucks as a place like Los Angeles.  A much better option to the food truck scene is the broadly similar food halls, which have sprung up in recent years.  Bravery Chef Hall, The Post Market, Railway Heights, and Finn Hall are all worth visiting.  Not only can you dine under cover and in air conditioning with metal utensils and proper plates, you will find an array of dining options much better than from the food trucks. 
• “But the local favorite is really:..pizza….”  Though it pains me to write this, but Houston is not a good pizza town.  The recommendable pizzerias are limited: the aforementioned Tiny Champions, Poscol, Vinny’s, Rudyard’s. Though pizza is certainly eaten often here, a cuisine that is very popular, deeply woven into the local dining culture, and is done here as well or better than anywhere else in the country is Vietnamese, and something visitors should try before any pizza place.  The complex beef broth anchoring a good bowl of pho or a crusty loafed banh mi are two types of often excellent locally found fare to be had for a comparative song.
  

 
On last thing, for the ink about The Menil Collection, I would have mentioned Barnett Newman’s “Broken Obelisk” that’s set on a reflecting pool near the Rothko Chapel, one of my favorite pieces of public art in Houston. 
 
There is a lot that can be recommended for Houston.

The fiery, delicious Pepper Twins Chicken that's just $11.99 for lunch during the week.

Jalapeños at 2702 Kirby, just south of Westheimer, was an Upper Kirby favorite for years that succumbed to development at the end of 2005.  Pondicheri among others rests on its ashes today.  I wrote in the first edition of Houston Dining on the Cheap that “Jalapeños is back among the better Mexican restaurants in town.  In fact, Jalapeños is, overall, one of the best Mexican restaurants in town.”  Its spinach enchiladas were the first dish I recommended and were among my favorites there.
 
Those can be found at Seco’s Latin Cuisine tucked away in a small house on Nottingham, a stone’s throw from Kirby, and not far north from the Rice Village.  Owned by the former chef at Jalapeños who has had Seco’s for about fifteen years now, which has a menu that has morphed over those years to one that is nearly fully Tex-Mex, if with a decided accent from the 1990s or so.  Chief among that vibe is Chef Seco’s Famous Original Spinach Enchiladas.  Featuring, rather unusually, flour tortillas that are filled with roughly chopped spinach and a mild cheese then topped with a cilantro cream sauce and served with lightly Spanish rice and choice of refried black beans or charro beans.  The enchiladas taste comfortable to me – and an order in which I can try to believe I am eating healthy – and readily enjoyable with spinach that’s verdant but not overpoweringly herbaceous nor harsh, and the flour tortillas carry a surprisingly light touch, even with a cream sauce atop.  It is a taste of Houston restaurant history, albeit not too distant one, but a remainder to me how much has changed in the local dining landscape in the past couple of decades.
 
Seco’s is set in an old house with several small rooms.  It is quaint, and there are very few parking spaces at the restaurant.  You should be able to find parking easily across the street, though.
 
Seco’s Latin Cuisine
2536 Nottingham (just east of Kirby), 77005, (713) 942-0001
secoslatincuisineinc.com

Just $12.99 and with chips and salsa, of course

Eating a pambazo the other day at La Chingada – a small place that I have really enjoyed in recent months that’s quite friendly in contrast to its somewhat crass name – made clear why I often hesitate to order tortas, Mexican-style sandwiches found at taquerias around town.  A pambazo is basically a quickly pan-fried torta drenched in a guajillo pepper sauce, a piquant knife-and-fork sandwich.  I enjoyed the version at La Chingada but that sauce-soaked telera roll was obviously of the dull, lousy Mrs. Baird’s-like quality.  The same issue occurs with the torta at another Mexican spot I’ve had some very good food from, Master Tacos.  The tacos are great there, but the torta is handicapped by cheap-tasting bread.  That happens at too many places.  Most Mexican restaurants here, in fact, in my experience.  The tortillas might be made in house or are otherwise good quality, but the bread, either the telera or bolillo rolls, is of the inexpensive, overly processed variety.
 
As with other types of sandwiches, the bread is substantial part of the whole; it’s not going to be a good sandwich without pretty good bread, at least.
 
There are certainly exceptions to the curse of Mrs. Baird’s afflicting area Mexican eateries.  The fairly new Urbe, from Hugo Ortega and team, has excellent breads for its torta-like creations and Mexico’s Deli on Dairy Ashford, still possibly Houston’s torta king, has long served quality rolls for its innumerable sandwiches.  But, unfortunately, when thinking about a torta at a Mexican restaurant, you might want to think more about something else.

Lame, processed-tasting supermarket bolillos; the problem at many places.

Spent the past weekend in New Orleans helping to celebrate a friend’s birthday with a big group and indulging into much rich Creole fare.  Too much alcohol, too, of course.  It seems impossible to eat without drinking there, especially as a tourist.  As in the past, the weekend’s festivities began with a Friday lunch downstairs at the famed Galatoire’s, which is something special, largely for its celebratory environment that’s raucous yet mostly refined, but the food is terrific, and has been on each of several visits.
 
The menu is not inexpensive, but fairly priced.  Many of the dishes are centered around locally sourced seafood.  High quality seafood bears a cost.  The fairness in pricing extends to its good-sized French-heavy wine list, and maybe more so to its spirits.
 
After we finished with the food – at the men’s table, as the women shunted us to a separate one where the desserts were overlooked but the beverage list not at all – my brother tapped me on the shoulder to show me what another person in our group had just ordered, a glass of Macallan 12-year-old filled neatly a full-three fingers high.  That was a surprisingly stout pour, and just $15.  In Houston, to give a few examples, an order of Macallan 12 at both Georgia James and Le Jardinier is a full ten dollars more, and nearly so at Squable where it is $24.  The pours at most establishments in Houston are probably an ounce or even an ounce-and-a-half less than the one at Galatoire’s, also.  It was impressive.  The Macallan 12 is an entry level Speyside single-malt whisky that is easily enjoyable for me most after-dinners with a big meal.  With the tariff for that quality and quantity, I had to order one.  It might have been two; it was a fun afternoon.
 
I’ve experienced this over the many years in New Orleans; in the tackiest touristy bars in the French Quarter to the nicest restaurants in the city, the town does not rip you off with the alcohol.  I find that the quality of the cocktails there are usually just middling, even at James Beard Award-winning bars and restaurants, including at several in a few days, though Commander’s Palace in a notable exception in this regard.  Regardless of the quality of mixing, the drink is always strong, and usually more-than-properly priced.  Plus, the settings and atmospheres are almost always a lot of fun.   

A neat whisky at Galatoire's the other day.  Note all the stains nearby.

I somewhat recently included Lobster Fra Diavolo on a list of the best Italian-American dishes of all time.  Most popular in the northeast, especially the New York area and Boston – near where lobsters are caught – the dish takes the southern Italian tradition of shellfish with factory-made pasta to feature sumptuous lobsters.  It’s been found on Italian-themed restaurant menus since the 1930s, at least in New York where it is probably the most popular.  Featuring tomato sauce seasoned with plenty of chopped garlic, oregano and red pepper flakes, it’s another exuberant of Italian-American cooking.  “Fra diavolo” means “brother devil” in Italian and might suggest the heat of the red pepper flakes and also the red of the tomato sauce and cooked lobster.  The name might also reference the nickname of a legendary and vicious bandit in southern Italy who was the subject of a nineteenth century opera.
 
Lobster Fra Diavolo can be a rich and fun dish.  It might also have had a practical, or devious, reason for its creation.  On a gastronomic trip to Italy nearly a decade ago sponsored by the Gruppo Ristoranti Italiani, a restaurateur from Massachusetts mentioned to me that he believed Lobster Fra Diavolo likely was created many years earlier because restaurants had to cover the taste of seafood going bad.  If so, that gives an additional layer – maybe more substance, too – to the name of the dish, a slightly devilish one at that. 

A version of Lobster Fra Diavolo from Tagliata restaurant in Baltimore

That might seem to be an odd question, especially so if you are not as into that kind of food as am I.  If you ask an American what is Italian food, there is a good chance that you’ll get an answer that names dishes featuring a long-simmered tomato sauce like spaghetti and meatballs and chicken Parmesan along with garlic bread.  If you ask an Italian, someone from Italy, the response won’t include any preparations remotely like those, which they certainly don’t regard as being Italian.  They consider those American creations, rightly so.  Their answer might include some of the dishes from their town or region, and those items will likely depend on where the person comes from in Italy.  But, food served under the banner of Italian food here, at restaurants on supermarket shelves, will be seen as Italian food no matter the veracity.
 
I believe that Italian-themed restaurants in this country can be placed as under one of broadly three banners: Italian-American, Americanized Italian, and Italian.
 
Italian-American easily claims the largest number of restaurants and also dishes in the popular mind.  These restaurants serves items that come largely from the Italian-American tradition like those spaghetti and meatballs.  The preparations in the Italian-American tradition are rooted in the big wave of Italian immigration from the 1880s until 1924.  The vast majority of these people came from the Italian south where the tomato has a prominent place, and about half the dishes in the Italian-American canon originate in the Naples area like long-simmered tomato sauce, pasta and clams, and lasagna made with tomato-sauce and ricotta.  These dishes might have had roots in Italy, but were adapted and grew with American tastes, abundance, industrialization and pace of life.  The people who were eating these dishes were Americans, as the immigrants’ offspring and descendants were plus the generations of restaurant patrons.  The preparations at these restaurants, regardless of the provenance of the recipes, are generally much heartier, and meatier and cheesier than in Italy and frequently sporting some red color.  And, if a restaurant's menu touts its sauce, it's Italian-American.
 
But restaurants need to serve what people want, and the menus are not static.  These might often have pasta carbonara, fettuccine Alfredo and penne alla vodka, dishes born in Italy after the big emigration to America, but have become very American in interpretation here.  Steaks, too.  Americans love steak.
 
Similar to the Italian-American restaurant is the newest type, the Americanized Italian.  These do not hew to the Italian-American traditions for the most part, and use more contemporary ideas and products from Italy, but the food is generally different than it is in Italy.  These are often from a skilled chef who puts their spin on Italian dishes, or their notion of Italian dishes, and might use the Italian cooking philosophy as an inspiration.  The quality of ingredients is usually high, and sometimes expensive.  Italian descriptions are often used to portray a greater sense of authenticity or understanding, at least, even if the Italian is often mangled.
 
Restaurants that might be called Italian try to mimic how food is prepared in Italy, or in very capable and knowing hands, express the ethos of Italy and with Italian products when necessary.  The chef is almost always from Italy or has cooked there.  They know Italy.  Italian can be in one its regional or local variations, and from rustic to high cuisine to creative.  In the U.S., traditional and mostly authentic Italian usually features several dishes that are popular outside of Italy or popular in across a lot of Italy, especially the touristed cities and towns (e.g. cacio e pepe).  Truly Italian food can be tough to do, and its appearance in America is actually somewhat recent.  Tony May of the landmark San Domenico in New York was quoted in 2008 saying that "twenty years ago it was very difficult to reproduce regional Italian cuisine…..A chef couldn't get imported Parmigiano-Reggiano or buffalo milk mozzarella, virgin olive oil, prosciutto di Parma, or balsamic vinegar. Now, everybody can buy the finest of such ingredients, and it's made a tremendous difference in the taste of the food."  But, even so, the way we eat in this country is different than in Italy, what customers want is not the same, and restaurants need to make money.  "There's no point in being strictly authentic with an empty dining room," as Lidia Bastianich was quipped a few decades ago.  That’s one reason why authentic Italian restaurants can be hard to find here.
 
In Italy, Italian food means all of different things.  In this country, it can mean even more, and often items that are really more American than Italian.

The meat ravioli at the original Carrabba's in Houston