Squable is one of my favorite restaurants in the city. And one of the attractions is its informed work with spirituous beverages, featuring one of the top cocktail programs in the city. This is not surprising given the regular involvement of Bobby Heugel, who fostered the growth high-quality cocktails in Houston beginning with Anvil well over a decade ago. That excellence is easily noticeable. The contrast between the quality of the cocktails at Squable and those during a very recent visit to Julep was pretty stark to me, for example.
 
Those delicious libations at Squable’s are even more attractive during its happy hour at the bar from 4:00 to 6:00 from Tuesday through Friday, when the drinks are half-off. Justifiably popular, scoring a reservation for a Friday at the bar can be tough, but worth the effort. As a martini fan, I’ve had a few there over the recent years, and each been very satisfying. Maybe the best to order – it’s the biggest – is Terry’s Martini that comes adorned with a juicy, flavorful Sicilian Castelveltrano olive skewered on a toothpick and with a small container of pickled vegetables on the side. It arrives in a retro, pre-cocktail craze, V-shaped martini glass rather than the more fashionable Nick and Nora or coupe glasses. The reason seems simply for the size’ this is a big cocktail, filled just about the brim of that large glass. It’s a testament to the quality of the staff that it arrives fully filled, even away from the bar.
 
Available in gin and vodka versions, the gin one is the only true martini, of course. Balanced, if with the requisite alcoholic bite, it is a delicious, cool, almost alchemic meld of two London dry gins and a couple dry vermouths. Most surprising to me, is that this is pre-made in batches. It is neither stirred nor shaken, the pouring for the batches doing the mixing trick. Just $10, too, during happy hour, which seems amazing these days.
 
I had to ask for the recipe, for an individual version. Making a batch of these at home might prove dangerous. The waiter nicely teamed with the bar staff to write out a recipe for a single martini.
 
Terry’s Martini
 
Ford’s London Dry Gin – 2 ounces
Hayman’s Navy Strength Royal Dock Gin – 1 ounce
Dolin Dry Vermouth – ½ ounce
Cocchi Vermouth di Torino Extra Dry – ½ ounce
Castelvetrano olive – for garnish
 
I've got some restocking of the liquor cabinet to do.

To note, the Hayman’s is 104-proof, and with four ounces of alcohol in this, it packs even more wallop than a typical martini though it won’t taste like it if made properly.

I’m very happy that the tourist boards in Houston, Dallas, San Antonio, Austin and Fort Worth ponied up the money to pay for Michelin to recommend restaurants and hotels in these big cities; at least $90,000 annually from Houston First here. I’ve used Michelin for restaurants, mostly, with great success over the past quarter-century, largely in Europe. It’s a staple of my travel planning. Though it is unlikely to change my dining habits here, it can be a great boon for restaurants recommended in the guide. And I believe it will help increase the quality of the dining scene here.
 
Though obtuse in practice, Michelin’s stated guidelines for which restaurants deserve inclusion in its guides are “based on five universal criteria, to ensure each destination’s selection equity: 1) quality products 2) the harmony of flavors 3) the mastery of cooking techniques 4) the voice and personality of the chef as reflected in the cuisine 5) consistency between each visit and throughout the menu (each restaurant is inspected several times a year).” In practice, the level of service, décor along with an appropriate beverage list are also key. That last usually means a decent array of wines.
 
There are currently 152 restaurants cited in Michelin guide for Chicago, so I think that Houston should get at least half that total, as Chicago is bigger metro area, with more much more ambitious set-course establishments, and practiced in satisfying the Michelin inspectors. Also, the quality of service is generally higher than there, a weak spot for the area dining scene, a point re-emphasized with a recent visit to The Blind Goat, which had a few issues, and where the waitstaff was quite earnest but painfully amateurish: slow to clear finished plates, slow to clean a spill, drinks brought to the wrong table, and more. Not unusual.
 
Having fun speculating, I’ve come up with a list of area restaurants that might make the initial Michelin guide based on experience at Michelin-recommended spots including last month in Italy and France, perusing through entries in New York, Chicago, DC, and California, and a few that are hopeful on my part based on my terrific luck at them. There is a soft spot for studied cute and quirky, at least for the Chicago guide, so I have a few. And Tex-Mex might not come to mind for a Michelin guide, but New York even has a Tex-Mex spot, regarded for its “wild boar with grits,” so I think Houston can garner at least one Tex-Mex spot.
 
My lists below are deficient in Chinese and some other Asian eateries, as the Michelin will likely also be.
 
Stars – Listed in order of the likelihood of garnering one, at least one.

• Le Jardinier – Its siblings in New York and Miami have stars and another in Geneva has two. The Robuchon-legacy cuisine still resonates and service is as good as it gets in Houston. The setting at the MFAH is not too shabby, either.
• Katami – Chef Manubu Horiuchi, arguably the top chef in Houston, has a beautiful setting in which to shine for sushi and much more. Shine it certainly does.
• March –The best of breed of the quartet of pricey set-menu-only restaurants that came on the scene in 2021. One of the most ambitious in the area, this is staffed by a very capable and broadly experienced team led by executive chef Felipe Riccio that can pull off Michelin-starred-quality creations inspired by top restaurants around the Mediterranean.
• BCN – Provides locals with a very well-executed glimpse into Spanish fine dining that is both contemporary and deeply rooted in the traditions of Barcelona. The kitchen is headed by Chef Luis Roger, who had years of experience in kitchens in his native Catalonia including a stint at El Bulli, which will get the reviewers attention.
• Navy Blue – Executive Chef Jerrod Zifchak arrived from New York where he was the last one at the Michelin-starred Café Boulud on Manhattan’s Upper East Side, succeeding Aaron Bludorn in that role. Notably for the cuisine, Zifchak also had four years in the kitchen at Le Bernardin, widely regarded as the top seafood restaurant in the country. There are other impressive CVs on staff here, which quickly shows upon entry and with the first drink, as service is noticeably professional.
• Little’s Oyster Bar – Pappas Restaurants did something it’s never done before with this spring newcomer, hire a top chef to head one of its kitchens, when it enticed Jason Ryczek who had been the executive chef for several years at Farallon, one of San Francisco’s leading seafood restaurants, to move here. Bringing a fresh and seasoned perspective to the space that housed popular Little Pappas Seafood House for over three decades, it now boasts one of the very best seafood restaurants in the entire Gulf Coast.
• Uchi – Terrific in several locations, this Austin-bred sushi spot excels across the board, highlighted by an approachability and comforting service that might belie the culinary excellence.
• Neo – Another omakase concept from alumni of Uchi, this is more than sushi and fish. The setting is also different, quite interestingly, in a menswear showroom. It can be tough to get a ticket, and very pricey one at that.
• Ishtia – The successor to eculent in Kemah that garnered national attention – Tom Sietsema, longtime restaurant critic at The Washington Post had an uneven meal in 2019, but thought it was “tastier overall than the experimental Alinea in Chicago,” which carries three Michelin starts. It’s also the type of multi-course type of spot that Michelin likes.
• Alba – This is a stretch, and I am not sure what is going on since the Borlenghi’s sold the Hotel Granduca where the restaurant resides. But Maurizio Ferrarese, hopefully still at the helm, is one of the very best chefs in the city, in my opinion. He’s been a beacon for excellent truly Italian food since he came to Quattro downtown a dozen or so years ago from Il Palagio, a Michelin-starred restaurant in Florence where he was the chef de cuisine. A couple of summers ago, I attended a dinner at Alba for sixty to seventy people, nearly all Italians. The five courses were terrific, even more impressive given the size of the dinner. It was better than any of the meals I have had in nearly a month spent in Italy over the past couple of years, dining very well. That dinner even impressed the Italians.

 
Inclusion – Listed in alphabetical order. The ones for Bib Gourmand are listed separately, below.

• Amalfi – One of Houston’s very best Italian restaurants
• Amrina – Indian in The Woodlands that got a somewhat recent rave from longtime Los Angeles food radio host Evan Kleinman in the Wall Street Journal, which might help garner proper notice.
• Andiron – Steaks done differently, from the grill not the broiler, in one of the most handsome dining rooms around coupled with an expansive, lust-able wine list, if geared toward those paying with an Amex Black Card.
• Auden – One of 2023’s top newcomers is a neat spot that is intriguing and adroit in a lot of ways.
• Backstreet Café – A bistro for Houston that has been around for decades
• Bari – Excellent, truly Italian food from a seasoned hand, Renato Di Pirro
• Benny Chows – Cheeky and expensive for what it is, this is bolstered by a seasoned named chef who churns out terrific food. Now, Jett Hurapan, of Songkran and Gigi Huang’s. And Michelin seems to have a penchant for rewarding Chinese restaurants not frequented by Chinese.
• Bludorn – Could get a star because the team worked in the Michelin-starred Café Boulud in New York. I don’t think it is star-worthy based on my two visits, though.
• Bori – Houston’s fanciest Korean spot, dishing steak, something, locals and travelers, like
• Brennan’s – The Houston-accented Creole grande dame seems it is a good as it’s been in any time since Danny Trace was lured away to Jim Crane’s ventures in 2017.
• Carrabba’s (Kirby and Voss) – The two original spots of this national chain turn out vibrant, crowd-pleasing Italian-American fare, the best in Houston, with welcoming, very efficient service that have been drawing throngs of folks, many of whom can dine anywhere they want, since the 1980s for a reason. But Michelin doesn’t seem to reward spots like this, as far as I can tell.
• Caracol
• Da Gama
• Da Marco
• Davis Street
• El Tiempo – Possibly. Once dishing the city’s best Tex-Mex, it has suffered some as it has expanded to a number of location, many too many, a fate that befell Ninfa’s before. But those fajitas.
• Etoile
• Eunice
• Flora – New York’s Michelin guide recommends a Tex-Mex spot in New York. This is certainly better – speculating, of course – and also attractively set dishing attractively presented local favorites.
• Hamsa
• Hidden Omakase
• Hugo’s
• Jun
• Kau Ba – Funky and proficient with a good story that has garnered some national attention
• Kata Robata – Maybe even a star given the quality what comes out from Hori’s kitchen and sushi counter
• Killen’s STQ
• Kiran’s
• Lucille’s
• MAD
• Maison Pucha Bistro
  
• MF Sushi
• Musaafer
• Nancy’s Hustle – Should be, will be star-worthy in the future once the Michelin reviewers understand the city and restaurant better.
• Nobie’s
• Ostia – This American-Italian does things quite well and from a restaurateur with tenure in two Michelin bastions, New York and San Francisco, who knows what might need to be done for it.
  
• Pacha Nikkei
  
• Pappas Bros. Steakhouse – The city’s best traditional steakhouse(s) can even load a filet with flavor and has one of the country’s best an most expansive wine lists.
  
• Potente – An expense-account diner across from the ballpark has one of the city’s top chefs, Danny Trace.
  
• Riel
  
• Roost – A slightly quirky spot that largely flies under the radar for most local diners highlighting the personal cuisine of chef-owner Kevin Naderi, something that Michelin might like.
  
• Rosie Cannonball
  
• Soto
  
• Squable
  
• State of Grace
  
• Street to Kitchen – Though I haven’t been impressed as many others in my nearly ten meals here, I think it’s received enough buzz to gain inclusion.
  
• Tatemo
  
• The Lymbar
  
• The Marigold Club – From the team that brought us March and Rosie Cannonball with a former top toque at Tony’s with a focus on demanding, well-heeled diners. Might be too new for inclusion, though.
  
• Theodore Rex
  
• Tony’s
  
• Tris – A bastion of quality in The Woodlands
  
• Uchiko
  
• Vic & Anthony’s – Possibly a reach and, yes, it is a Landry’s restaurant, but it is one of the city’s best steakhouses; here, you don’t have to apologize for visiting a Landry’s property.
  
• Xochi
  

 
Bib Gourmand – “Good value. Good value cooking”; separate from the above lists. Based on other cities, maybe two-thirds of recognized Houston restaurants could be Bib Gourmand places. Listed alphabetically.

• Blood Bros. BBQ
• Crawfish and Noodles
• Cuchara
• Elro – This place is excellent, with a very well-rendered, unique menu from an experienced chef with New York-tuned chops along with fun cocktails and a very well-chosen small list of wines.
• Ema – Cute, quaint and earnest
• Feges BBQ
• Fung’s Kitchen – Maybe it might not be as good as before the fire a few years ago that shuttered it for a while, it is still a go-to for dim sum and Hong Kong-style seafood.
• Goode Co. Kitchen and Catina – The area’s top Tex-Mex spot from an estimable restaurant family, these certainly deserve inclusion.
• Goode Co. Seafood – Quite a bit better than good and the best rendition of locally attuned seafood rooted in the past of the region.
• Himalaya – This approachable, fun stop for Indo-Pakistani food has long been a favorite for locals and national film crews for a while for good reason.
• Josephine’s
• Killen’s BBQ – The area barbecue joint that began the barbecue renaissance still smokes top-notch beef.
• Mala Sichuan – The Chinese restaurant that has received the most press from the non-Chinese language media plus the food is quite good in its several locations and a quality beverage list at the Bellaire Boulevard original.
• Pinkerton’s BBQ
• Pizzana – Has one in Los Angeles and this place is quite proficient.
• Pondicheri
• Poscol – Marco Wiles’s spot has been a welcome stop for something a little different, small plate-style that’s much more Italian than typically found here.
• Saldivia’s – A wish for me. This humble, family-run Uruguayan steakhouse has been turning out the best value steaks in the city for nearly three decades in its various iterations. Their entraña, a skirt steak, ever before adding some more of their terrific chimichurri, has been easily much better than steaks I’ve had at pricey steakhouses like Brenner’s, Andiron, and Georgia James in the past year.
• The Breakfast Klub
• The Pit Room
• Truth BBQ – The brisket here is confirmation that it is world-class fare.
• Tiny Champions – This place is great, and more than just the city’s best pizzeria; excellent cocktails, pasta and more.
• Winnie’s – In the Chicago guide, there is Ina Mae’s, a New Orleans-inspired po boy-centric spot, so Winnie’s could make it. There’s some skill at this seemingly humble place.

A spread at Nancy's Hustle

The hamburger I picked up the other day from Underbelly Burger in Spring Branch was quite disappointing, most notable for the overcooked patties and listless buns that made for a lame sandwich and even putting it in fast-food level to me, albeit at more than twice the price and much less of the  convenience. During its first year or so in operation in the farmers market on Airline, Underbelly Burger was one of my very favorite burger joints. I overlooked that their odd, twisty, thick-cut fries were always undersalted and unsatisfying, but the burgers were outstanding in both of the beef choices.
 
The shake was quite tasty again on the recent visit, and the staff remembered straws, thankfully, but again in the bag for takeout, no napkins. That, with the charging for small packets of ketchup, mustard and mayonnaise, it gave the impression of a restaurant cutting corners, or just not that adept at service. That was certainly my impression with the short-lived Mexico City taqueria concept, Comalito, with its slow, often inept service, very cheap utensils, small, thin napkins not up to the job and food that was uneven in execution and in fairly restrained portions. It seemed expensive for the total product, for a place I really wanted to like. I wasn’t that surprised to learn that it had closed quickly.
 
Now down to Underbelly Burger, Wild Oats and Georgia James, Underbelly Hospitality is a shadow of its former self. Chris Shepherd left two years ago, in July 2022, and the restaurants that remain are far less interesting and a diner is far less assured of an excellent meal, something once taken for granted. My last meal at Georgia James featured a surprising amount of gristle in the steak and a martini bizarrely served in a tulip-shaped glass. Once my favorite local steakhouse, it is now beyond consideration. The modern, overly masculine décor of its current location appalled my oft-charming dining companion, and not that she’s ever been accused of being too dainty. The soulless plaza where the restaurant sits off W. Dallas and Dunlavy probably contributes to the mood. It did not help another briefly lasting effort, Pastore, which served an American-Italian cuisine. That restaurant suffered greatly in comparison to Ostia just down Dunlavy serving similar fare, but exhibiting a much greater understanding of  and interpretation of the cuisine while executing far better.
 
It is good to remember what Underbelly was and became. Juxtaposing many of the city’s ethnic cooking traditions with an emphasis on those from Asia onto a menu and often on a single plate and usually succeeding in dramatic fashion brought chef Chris Shepherd deserved national acclaim. And that spotlight has helped shine more light on other local restaurants and chefs. Underbelly, boisterous and confident, interesting and extremely competent, also helped show that a meal built around small plates can work well. It led to other restaurants, most notably the ones in the One Fifth series, somehow excellent in each of several concepts and cuisines ranging from a steakhouse, a mash-up of French, Spanish and Italian dishes, Levantine and Persian, Gulf Coast seafood, and finally a chef-y Italian-American. Underbelly lead to a broadly similar, still outstanding UB Preserv and Georgia James from a One Fifth start, becoming a top local steakhouse stalwart.
 
Chris Shepherd was not the only top chef to leave. Others in recent years include, notably, Nick Wong at UB Preserv and Tim Reading at Georgia James Tavern, who had also been the executive chef at Caracol. Both of whom thankfully have remained in Houston and will be opening new places soon. Others like Ryan Lachaine at Riel and Patrick Feges at Feges BBQ left years ago. The kitchen talent at the restaurants in Underbelly Hospitality seems much less than it once was. This helps explain some of drop off in quality and probably some of the turn to much safer directions.
 
Underbelly, etc., gone but not forgotten.

One of the wonderful compositions at Underbelly back in the day

In the glass case facing the street at a picturesque old butcher shop in the heart of the small town of Nizza Monferrato, I saw something I had never witnessed in three trips to Piedmont, steaks, a display of attractive cuts of beef steak. Piedmont is very proud of its Fassona beef – it’s now a protected product, IGP – something that’s advertised on seemingly every restaurant menu but never, almost never, in steak form. As a typical steak-loving American, I have found this very odd.
 
What you’ll find there is mostly carne crudo, brasato and bollito misto. Carne crudo is a popular antipasto. Light-tasting yet flavorful, I’ve big a big fan of that minced, raw beef or veal from the Fassona cattle that is often dressed just with some excellent Ligurian olive oil, and maybe shaved white truffles in the fall, for a nice bump to the bill. Carne crudo is the Piemontese take, and a tastier one for me, on the French steak tartare and a regular order for me when there. Brasato is a cut of roast that’s braised in red wine, Barolo sometimes, more often a cheaper bottle and the resulting dish is rich and unctuous when done well like I had recently in Turin.
 
Bolitto misto is an array of boiled meats that I’ve managed to miss in my trips to northern Italy; it’s a cold-weather preparation, in part. During my last trip to Piedmont a few years earlier, in the exhibit hall in Nizza Monferrato where we had lunch and a wine tasting, there were banners announcing the annual festival the upcoming Sunday for the prized beef: “Fiera del Bue Grasso e del Manzo di Razza Piemontese.” One of the winemakers at the table explained that the culinary attraction of the event was boiled beef. I was rather surprised. Disappointed, too, and asked if there was any regional tradition of cooking steak with this beef. A touch embarrassed, he said no and could not think of any place in Italy other than Florence and environs that typically prepares steaks as part of its cuisine.
 
That’s been my understanding, too. That Florentine steak culture resulting in the large cuts of bistecca alla fiorentina, is a result of a strong and specific British influence, which other areas did not have. British troops supposedly introduced it to Florence in the mid-19th century and the throngs of British tourists for decades to there and nearby Tuscan countryside – Chiantishire – helped stoke demand and create a legacy. Though Piedmont had cows like Tuscany, if maybe not nearly as many, it had far fewer British tourists.
 
Steaks and steakhouses are becoming more popular in Piedmont, I was told by my host at Produttori del Barbaresco, if slowly. When it appears, it is often with beef from elsewhere, Scotland, Argentina or Japan. That probably has something to do with that Fassona breed, too, according to her. That cattle provides exceptionally lean meat which makes well-suited for being served raw. Conversely, that lack of fat, intramuscular fat, less so for steaks.
 
As an American visiting Piedmont, for your regular beef consumption, you will have to be content with cool, raw beef or richly braised in red wine. Boiled, too, I guess. Beef for dinner can actually be very enjoyable even when it is not broiled or grilled in thick juicy, meaty cuts.

Was in luck to visit Monferrato and the Langhe during white truffle season a few years ago. Carne crudo dressed up.

I recently returned from a trip to Piedmont: Turin, Monferrato and the Langhe, with plenty of wine on the agenda, and more on the table and afterwards. One of the winery visits was to the historic and well-known Pio Cesare, which is best known for its Barolos, and is the only winery left in the delightful town of Alba. The general, public tour and tasting we had booked was very entertaining and definitely recommended. Our guide, Davide, did a terrific job over the two hours or so.
 
One of the interesting things he pointed out in the subterranean cellars built around Roman ruins was a bottle from the first vintage packaged like that for commercial sales, from 1916, which was shown next to one from a recent release, 2018. The bottles were nearly identical. This might be a part of the winery’s success over the years, work from a graphic artist: an attractive and recognizable label, and then name, that is easy to remember and discern when shopping for wine.
 
Branding can be very important. From the worlds of consumer foods and dining, there are the Keebler elves, Frosted Flakes’ Tony the Tiger, the Pillsbury Doughboy, the Coca-Cola logo, and McDonald’s arches to point out a few of the most well-known. Pio Cesare is not nearly in the same category in terms of consumer recognition, but its products are much more enjoyable, and natural, to be sure.

After getting stuck in a museum for an additional hour or so by what we later heard was the largest hailstorm in memory in Turin and first finishing a warming bicerin in the closest open café, I ordered a half carafe of Dolcetto, a grape that is widely planted in the region. It was shockingly awful, even when I felt in need of a drink, suggestive to me more the output of a process plant than a winery. My mom, who long has had a tolerance for very inexpensive wines, said it tasted “worse than a bad jug of Gallo.” That was just the first of three mostly bad carafes of house wines.
 
During my first few trips to Italy, when both my wallet and palate were lighter, I really enjoyed the house red wines. That was often in Tuscany, though, where there is more inexpensive good red wine than elsewhere in Italy. But that held true a little over a decade ago, too.
 
The second bad one was at a humble and unexpectedly quite good trattoria in the hills overlooking Santa Margherita Ligure. The salumi and cheeses to start were terrific, even at times rustic. With the first sip of the red wine from the carafe, I pronounced to my chef sister-in-law, “This is grim-tasting.” The seven of us at the table didn’t come close to finishing it. The third was in a humble, friendly spot in over-touristy Portofino. The meal satiated the hungry, the fizzy white wine called Verduzzo – maybe actually from Friuli – was mediocre, maybe that.
 
The last carafe was actually quite tasty and well-made, a Dolcetto, too. After a couple pleasing sips I looked at the glass bearing the name of the winery, Cantina di Nizza, the nearby cooperative winery where we had more than a few surprising and each very enjoyable boxes of wine in varying sizes and labels with low prices.
 
With more wineries eschewing vini sfusi, wine sold in bulk, inexpensive carafes of wine are seemingly tougher to get in restaurants in Italy. Also, I am certainly asking for more these days.

While finishing an excellent dinner at the trattoria Scannabue in Turin’s San Salvario neighborhood at the very start of the trip to Italy last month, we audibly noticed a dish just brought to the table next to us. The two diners at it, who had been speaking only in Italian, happen to respond in excellent English, one currently living in Seattle.
 
Friends originally from Bologna, after some talk about the dishes on the table, wine and the restaurant, we learned that they had once run a website that recommended restaurants throughout Italy as both traveled to much of Italy for work and vacation but eventually felt they could not compete with better-funded sites and publications like from Gambero Rosso. Hearing that led to more questions from me about which regional and local cuisines in Italy they thought were in the best.
 
The relative merits of regional and local cuisines in Italy is a topic of interest to many, myself definitely included. Italian geography and history – along with a climate suited to many wonderful fruits, vegetables, grains and wines – has given the country numerous distinct and often thrilling dishes and culinary traditions. Many of these have found homes in the U.S. As Italy has become wealthier after the Second World War, more people can fully partake in those, expanding old traditions while new ones have also arisen. And restaurants in Italy are better than ever.
 
Being from Bologna, the two thought Bolognese cuisine was the best, of course. That food exemplified by a richness featuring fresh pasta like tortellini and ragù Bolognese, and lasagna and foodstuffs like prosciutto, mortadella and Parmigian-Reggiano is often the top choice of many Italians I’ve queried over the years, but which would assuredly be after their hometown cooking wherever that was. The also-rich Piedmontese cuisine, known best for the luxurious aromatic white truffles each fall, was likely second, and that Turin was a great city in which to dine. They agreed with me that Tuscan was surely overrated and less interesting, though it does have Italy’s only culture of steak; Marchigiano from across the Apennines is certainly better, as the Marche is actually more beautiful, too.  And they quickly dismissed the Milanese cooking: “It only has two dishes.” Two dishes? I asked. There is costoletta, osso buco and risotto alla Milanese, to start.  “Costoletta and rice with the sauce of the osso buco, that’s just two.”  Maybe they passionately hated both AC and Inter Milan.
 
That was humorous, and typical of still-current Italian regional and local chauvinism. But he might have had somewhat of a point about Milan. Noted Italian cookbook author Ada Boni wrote, even in the 1960s, that “Good Milanese cooking is rare in the city itself, but in the old part of the city and in certain trattoria in the outer suburbs it may still be found by the enterprising and inquisitive gastronome.” And the city has certainly changed in the intervening six decades while it has drawn more people from elsewhere in Italy elsewhere.
 
I feel the need to dine some more in Milan. And elsewhere in much of Italy, for that matter. I have to Sicily and the Sicilian cooking, with access to large fish like tuna and swordfish and other seafood is regarded to be among the healthiest in Italy along with being very flavorful. Roman cooking has given the world, and tourist Italy, the famed pasta dishes cacio e pepe, all ‘Amatriciana and Carbonara. And a fourth, that they don’t’ publicize anymore, Alfredo. There is also carcioli all romana and carciofa all giudi pinzimonio, abbacchio, suckling lamb, porchetta, saltimbocca and pizza al taglio and a trattoria tradition for robust than elsewhere. Neapolitan, often quickly cooked excepting its famed Sunday ragù, has given much to the Italian-American fare I grew up with is probably my favorite though I have spent less than a week in the Naples area. Pizza, spaghetti, and marinara, octopus, mussels, clams, squid often topping that pasta. Mozzarella. Eggplant Parmesan. Among some of the others, Venetian, with its fruits of the Lagoon, robust, delicious Abbruzzese, and lighter Ligurian, with its olive oil-laden pesto, focaccia and dishes with small fish.
 
It’s a fun subject to muse about the regional and local Italian cooking, as we did for a little while with some strangers who were quite passionate about it. I have since thought what should be included when talking about cuisines. The dishes, the foodstuffs, maybe the wine, too, and likely the quality of the restaurants, which is where nearly all of us experience the cuisines.
 
More research is needed, even if the question doesn’t really need to be answered. Just explored.

Needing to restock after returning from two-and-a-half weeks in northwestern Italy then France, I stopped at the big Kroger on 11th Street the other day, the one with a nice wine selection, and felt compelled to pick up at least a couple of bottles of wines labeled “Nebbiolo.”
 
Before the trip, which was largely in Piedmont, I hoped to learn more about the region’s star grape, Nebbiolo, that becomes Barolo and Barbaresco in its most exalted forms. A visit to 13 Celsius prior to leaving and sampling a 2022 G.D. Vajra Langhe Nebbiolo had convinced me that these were worth exploring, too. Nebbiolos are the lesser-aged, less fussed about, easier to drink and much more affordable, if less complicated bottlings from the Barolo and Barbaresco producers. I returned also with an enthusiasm about those.
 
These Nebbiolos were created, in part, to provide income while the Barolos and Barbarescos are aging, similar to the Rossos from Montalcino and Vino Nobile in Tuscany. But Nebbiolos have struck a cord, certainly at least where it is produced, becoming the everyday wine for nearby Alba and much of the area, at least for younger drinkers, I was told, displacing Dolcetto, long the wine found on most lunch and dinner tables. This has been helped by the changing climate that has made the fickle and late-ripening Nebbiolo grapes easier to grow well. As Aldo Vacca, the former head of Produttori del Barbaresco, said on Levi Dalton’s podcast: “There are really no bad vintages anymore.” Like Barolos and Barbarescos, Nebbiolos are better than ever and there is more of it, too.
 
Nebbiolos don’t have the complexity nor depth of flavor of the Barolos and Barbarescos, but exhibit the pleasant red fruits and maybe a spiciness with noticeable acidity and tannins. But those tannins, especially, are muted compared to the younger Barolos and Barbarescos that are on most restaurant menus, and what most people here drink at home making a Nebbiolo often a better choice with the meal. This was my experience at lunch recently at Campamac, an ambitious, Michelin-cited restaurant in the village of Barbaresco. When I asked for a Nebbiolo – I had to have something with that grape in Barbaresco – the enthusiastic, youngish sommelier recommended what turned out to be a beautiful Bruno Giacosa from the 2022 vintage that he thought was more approachable than from the previous year. It went quite well with the agnolotti with wild goose and the Torinese take on the Milanese. He commented that the famed Bruno Giacosa was the second best Barbaresco producer after Gaja. By all accounts, true.
 
In addition to possibly being quite satiating and satisfying on their own, the Nebbiolo wines are also a chance to understand the winery better and determine whether or not you want to spend the additional money for their Barbaresco or Barolo. “Nebbiolo is a preview for Barbaresco and Barolo” according to Michela Cucca, my host when I visited Produttori del Barbaresco a couple of weeks ago. I was told at another winery that if you like their Nebbiolo, you will like their Barolo or Barbaresco. Davide Abram at Pio Cesare told us that “The better the Nebbiolo, the better the Barolo and Barbaresco.”
 
You can find Nebbiolos for around $20 to $30 retail. I quite enjoyed the Nebbiolo from Produttori del Barbaresco that has been available in Houston for a while, but I didn’t feel like paying $27 at Kroger for it after buying a couple of bottles for €15 a piece at the winery. The higher tariff is certainly worth it, though.
 
If you enjoy Barolo and Barbaresco, you should definitely seek out a Langhe Nebbiolo or a Nebbiolo d’Alba. Or if you just enjoy Old World wines are looking for a reasonably inexpensive wine to accompany a meal, you might give one a try.

Last week, driving to Santa Margherita Ligure from Piedmont, I instigated a lunch stop in Recco to sample the famed Focaccia di Recco at its source, Manuelina. This is, in fact, its commercial originator way back in 1885. I was in the area and had to make a small detour try it.
 
Most Houstonians might only know, even if just by name, Focaccia di Recco from the version at Rosie Cannonball, a stalwart on its menus since opening a few years ago that has drawn raves and press from Alison Cook in Houston Chronicle, Eric Sandler in CultureMap and Houstonia among others. Quite distinct from the puffy, familiar focaccia found throughout Liguria, which I love – usually flecked with some rosemary when I have to order it – the Recco version features unleavened dough and is essentially a baked, thin, flat sandwich filled with cheese. Consisting of two very thin pieces of olive oil-laden dough featuring finely milled “top quality” high-gluten flour interspersed with dollops of stracchino, a creamy, mild fresh cow’s milk cheese from Lombardy, then drizzled with more olive oil, some salt and it is finally baked in circular cutouts in copper pans in a moderately hot oven until crisp.
 
Arriving at the table looking a lot like a Tex-Mex quesadilla, the result is that kind of cooking alchemy that you happily come upon every now and then, with the combination of seemingly simple straightforward components makes for something much more interesting and amazingly pleasurable. At the first bite I could understand why this dish has resonated so loudly. The classic version with just cheese, La Focaccia di Recco col formaggio IGP – it has its own protected designation – was crisp, gooey and wonderful. It made me think of a lighter, more refined, more Italian version of a grilled cheese sandwich. We also ordered version topped with slices of culatello, the cured heart of the prosciutto, and another with nduja, the greasy, piquant Calabrian fresh sausage. Both were terrific, though my favorite was the original, unadorned, and I had a tough time not picking up yet another wedge. With good reason Italian dining guidebook author Fred Plotkin called over a quarter century ago, “probably the most addictive food on the planet.” Even my Parisian-trained pastry chef sister-in-law was dutifully impressed with the focaccias.
 
Though the Focaccia di Recco was the reason for our stop, the rest of the meal was excellent and you can be assured of having a very enjoyable time without even ordering one. Anchovies and butter to start then a traditional Ligurian pansotti, a stuffed pasta, in a walnut sauce were both superb. The attention to quality extended to the top-notch German-style pilsner on tap from a long-standing small brewery in the Veneto and a tasty bottle of Rossese di Dolceacqua – which is not always so as we were to find out later – from the very short list of wines. Service was efficient, friendly accommodating and the lunch was comfortable and delightful throughout. The adjacent ristorante is Michelin-recommended and the quality of this focaccia-focused trattoria is indicative of the great utility of the Michelin guide, even for the related restaurants.
 
But, it you are going to visit, get the Focaccia di Recco, as every table in the dining room did, too.
 
Manuelina Focacceria Bistrot
Via Roma 296
16036 Recco (GE)
manuelinafocacceria.it/recco/

Returning from two weeks in northwestern Italy, I was struck how often I saw anchovies and butter on menus, first in Turin then elsewhere in Piedmont and later Liguria. A composition that always includes bread, sometimes toasted, might initially seem odd to most American diners. But the combination of salty, maybe slightly oily anchovy filets and rich, soft cultured butter along with a base of bread for works very well and makes for an excellent initial bite when dining out. It’s also an item that used to be seen fairly often on Italian menus of old in this country, part of the outsize legacy of immigrant restaurateurs from Piedmont many decades ago.
 
Though not near the ocean, Piedmont has a long culinary tradition with preserved anchovies from trade with nearby Liguria. It’s also got more cows than most other regions in Italy and long influence from butter-loving France just across the Alps.
 
My first experience with it on this trip was during lunch at Campamac, an ambitious, Michelin-cited restaurant in the village of Barbaresco. It arrived dramatically as an amuse bouche on three separate plates: oil-cured anchovies from Liguria, softened butter already portioned and a thick slice of slightly brown, rustic, freshly made sourdough bread. It made for a delicious couple of bites and start to the meal. A few days later at the excellent, casual Manuelina Bistrot in coastal Recco, I ordered the Pane, burro d'Isigny e acciughe salate del cantabrico for 10 euros – under the heading “Per Iniziare,” to start – sourcing widely to feature the lauded, creamy, rich butter, whipped, from Normandy and artisanal, salt-cured Spanish anchovy filets atop a thick, cracker-like toasted bread. A little different, with a more softened, lighter butter and more contrasting texture, I really enjoyed it also, a terrific preface to the rest of the meal.
 
This is a simple dish that I wish would make a return to menus here. Only three ingredients, but which need to be of high quality for it to work. It’s something easy to do at home, too, well-suited for entertaining guests as appetizers who might be at least somewhat open-minded.

Just returned from an enjoyable two-and-a-half week vacation in northwestern Italy and across the border in Nice. The wines of Piedmont, arguably Italy’s top region for red wine and wine overall, were a prime reason for the itinerary. An indicator of quality, the region is home to the most number of DOCG wines – the country’s top classification – at 19 – Tuscany is second at 11, and it also has the most of the second highest, DOC, tied at 41. Piedmont’s most famous wines, Barolo and Barbaresco, were on the docket and I visited several top producers, but most of the wine I drank was most commonly planted red grape there, the almost always enjoyable, and often much better than that, Barbera. And most of that came from a box. Several boxes, really. It was too palatable and fairly too easy on the wallet.
 
Among the wineries I had scoped out before the trip was one I had never heard of before, Cantina di Nizza, the local cooperative, which was just a six-minute drive from the house we rented. The reason was that it sold some of its wine in boxes, 10-liter boxes, something that I had never heard of, and for a song. I felt I had to pick one of those giant packagings. And, maybe, my family drinks wine quite readily. But these wines, in a half-dozen different versions, were easily the best wines I have ever had from a box, including at least a couple that Eric Asimov had touted last year. The Barbera Fruttoso, made with unclassified grapes, was easy to consume, 12.5% alcohol, with nice berry on the nose and palate, balanced acidity, and a fairly long, mostly smooth taste; well-noted as “ideal as a table wine, to accompany everyday lunches.” It was priced at a ridiculously low tariff of €22,50 for 10 liters. That works out to $1.81 per 750 ml bottle, while tasting better than probably most of the $15-20 bottles I purchase here. This would be a daily drinker if available here, even at a much higher price.
 
The best wine in a box we had was the L’Audace, a Barbera 2020 DOC, with a richer, more pronounced and serious taste at 14.5%. We went through a couple boxes of this, too, albeit at the punier 5-liter size, but pricier €23. Not just these two, but another Barbera option, Corposo, a fuller expression than the Fruttoso, was also very nice. And I especially enjoyed a Cortese DOC. These are good wines. Each of the several boxes we tasted were quite well-made as I am sure the other ones are, also. There are ten wines available in boxes, from 3- to 10-liter.
 
I’d recommend visiting Cantina di Nizza if in the area. It has a number of other wines, in bottles, some of which have earned two bicchiere from Gambero Rosso, best value citation also from Gambero Rosso, and medals from the top British wine publication, Decanter, ranging from under €10 up to just €24. Though less atmospheric than most other wineries in the region, the wines are of high quality and even those in box can be tasted before buying. I found it fun to sample wine poured straight from a 10,000 or so-Hl stainless steel holding vessel, which was quick and unpretentious, if a tad incongruent with the caliber of the wines.
 
Cantina di Nizza
Strada Alessandria, 57
14049 Nizza Monferrato (Asti) – Italy
 
tel. +39 0141 721348

For customers at 13 Celsius who are in the mood for a red wine but not sure which one, the staff can be quick to suggest the Patina Due Gelsi Barbera d’Alba from the 2021 vintage. I’ve long been a fan of Barberas – actually traveling to that area again next month – and this is an easy one to enjoy.  With some berry and cherry notes on the nose, the first sips are smooth, dry, with less immediate acidity that Barbera was once largely known for.  It has a nice body, rich and with some tannins from the wood-aging but those are not prominent. It is easy wine to drink without food; the 15% alcohol is pleasantly obscured.
 
This will readily appeal to most fans of Italian reds and it has also resonated with a big range of red wine drinkers at 13 Celsius.  This is truly a house wine, too.  It is made by Guidobono, which produces several wines including a Barolo in the Langhe and Roero in Piedmont, exclusively for 13 Celsius under the Patina label and found nowhere else.  You’ll notice that the label features a photo of the distressed tin tile ceiling at the bar that might not quickly be noticed after the second glass.  The Patina Due Gelsi Barbera d’Alba is $13 for a full pour, and $7.50 for 3-ounce half pour. 
 
13 Celsius
3000 Caroline (just north of Elgin), 77004, (713) 529-8466
13celsius.com

I am a big fan of Elro and it’s unique, smart and very approachable take on upscale casual dining, believing it was one of the top new restaurants to open in the city last year. Texas Monthly recently opined the same thing. Having dined there about ten times already – it’s nearby and easy for me for lunch which helps – and being sucker for a good sandwich, especially an Italian-accented sandwich, I was looking forward to its second sandwich offering, the Meatball Sub that debuted after my last visit.
 
And that is a favorite for many. The meatball sub finished number thirteen on a YouGov survey of the country’s most popular sandwiches a few years ago. I do like it when done well or even fairly well, though it’s number three for me among hot Italian-American sandwiches. With family roots in Chicago, Italian beef has been tops for me probably followed by Veal Parm – though I haven’t had a good one of those in a quarter century. Elro’s version of the meatball sub might change my sandwich pecking order.
 
Its meatball sub was likely the best of that genre I’ve ever had. Arriving solo on a plate with its two halves enclosed in aluminum foil, it doesn’t make a striking appearance. Unwrapping a half of very hot sandwich gingerly reveals a crusty sesame seed-topped hoagie roll filled with beef and pork meatballs, melted provolone and mozzarella, with a judicious amount of a tomato sauce and, somewhat unusually, big leaves of basil. The meatballs, half pork and half beef, were soft and flavorful, and were complemented perfectly with the melted white cheeses, a lighter tomato sauce, the fragrant green herbs, and the wonderful, crusty bread, the same that’s used for The Hoagie. I made a small mess devouring it. Though a hearty sandwich, this is the freshest, lightest version of a meatball sub I’ve ever had: better bread, higher quality, tastier meatballs, the bit of basil, and fresh-tasting rather than a long-cooked tomato sauce.
 
Not so not inexpensive at $18, but a fair price for the quality and what will be a filling meal for most. It might be a favorite, too.
 
Elro
2405 Genesee (at Fairview), 77006
elrohtx.com

Italian restaurants have been popular in this country, some parts of the country, at least, since the big wave of immigrants from Italy in the late nineteenth century, becoming even more widespread than the significant numbers of Italians would indicate. But, it seemingly took until the end of 1926 for a full-time Italian restaurant to open in Houston.
 
There was Italian food publicly served on a special occasion, or occasions, before then. On July 20, 1924 both the Houston Post and Chronicle reported a society vignette that a certain Mr. and Mrs. Herbert Godwin gave a small dinner party “at the new Italian restaurant in Hermann park.” This was at the café that was opened to patrons of the golf course at the park by John Pappa and Vincent Vallone – Tony Vallone’s grandfather – the month before. This café seemed to also be used for private events, but was not really an Italian restaurant.
 
The honor of the first Italian restaurant in Houston appears to go to Mme. Cerracchio’s that opened in December 1926 in a “stately colonial mansion” at 2414 Main Street at half-block north of McGowen, in today’s Midtown. This also housed the studio of Mrs. Cerracchio’s husband, the sculptor Enrico Cerracchio, who created one of the city’s most iconic civic artworks, the bronze equestrian statue of Sam Houston in Hermann Park. The restaurant advertised table d’hote service from 6:00 to 9:00 PM and a la carte afterwards in “an atmosphere of refinement and culture.” She is quoted as saying a few months after opening that “I have always had the urge to show the Americans how the people in Naples, Enrico’s native city, serve their foods – and at last I’ve found the chance.” It offers “raviolis, meat balls, and fine Italian spaghetti.” Mme. Cerracchio’s was a more appealing-sounding for an Italian (and French) restaurant than that of her maiden surname.

She was born Marion Kowalski in Shamokin, a coal mining town in eastern Pennsylvania that, incidentally, was the also the birthplace of fellow Polish-Americans, Stan Coveleski, a Baseball Hall of Famer, and his brother Harry, who, too, pitched successfully in the major leagues, with a lifetime record of 81-55 and was a three-time twenty-game winner.
 
Coincident with her husband’s work as a sculptor, the restaurant becomes a “rendezvous for the artistic, bohemian element” as many Italian restaurants were famously known to be in New York, Chicago and San Francisco and elsewhere. Mme. Cerracchio’s adapts a slogan of “Where Houston’s ‘Who’s Who’ meets and entertains the Nation’s ‘Who’s Who’”. Nonetheless, it becomes Nino’s in August 1927, just eight months or so after opening, with a new proprietor. This is the first of three Italian-themed restaurants named Nino’s in Houston over the decades, none of them related.

If interested in reading more about the sometimes amusing and surprising history of local Italian restaurants like this, you might want to scroll through some of “A passeggiata through Houston’s Italian restaurant history.”

An advertisement from the Houston Post, March 2, 1927. The address is incorrect.

I hadn’t been to Tacos del Julio in almost a decade and it had been in mind recently after visiting Feges BBQ and Stuffed Belly as one of its locations shares the revitalized now restaurant-heavy strip center on Long Point west of Wirt. I had liked its casual Monterrey-rooted food in the past; it was recommended it in my guidebook Houston Dining on the Cheap some years ago.
 
So, after long last, I drove out there for lunch today. An item at the top of one part of the menu caught my eye: tacos de trompo with beef. I don’t remember having that before – and knowing it existed – and really enjoying well-crafted tacos al pastor and tacos de trompo made with the traditional pork, I ordered it after the waiter confirmed it really was beef sliced from a trompo.
 
Arriving at five to order set flatly on a plate, the marinated slices of beef, which had been slightly crisped on the plancha were set atop a pair of fairly substantial, deep yellow corn tortillas with a bit of melted asadero cheese in between then topped with sauteed onions and slices of avocados. After liberating them from the three separate small plastic bags, accompanied with squeezes from lime wedges, chopped cilantro and chopped fresh onions. With some squirts from the bottle of spicy, flavorful orange salsa, made with chiles de arbol, I assume, the tacos were terrific. The beef was tender, more tender, mildly beefy but much tastier than the beef in a typical taco. With all the complements, even much better.
 
For just $12.49, which came with a cup of nicely satisfying charro beans, it was quite a nice deal. Their slogan is spot on, certainly with this order: ¡No comas ansias, come tacos! When here, don’t worry, eat tacos.
 
Tacos del Julio
8203 Long Point (east of Wirt), (832) 358-1500
tacosdeljuliousa.com
 
Locations also on I-10 in Katy and at 7515 Westheimer. There are two other operators of the restaurant have locations on Airline Drive, in Pasadena, and then one on Highway 6.