​I’ve been down on the quality of the pizza to be found in Houston, especially after the closure a few months ago of easily the best pizzeria since it opened in 2006, Dolce Vita.  Unfortunately, proprietor Marco Wiles wanted to concentrate on his other Italian restaurants, Da Marco and Poscol, a little further down Westheimer as he has gotten older.  As much as I like to tout the quality of the restaurants here – it’s certainly among the top handful of restaurant cities in the country now – the pizza game has been a laggard.  It’s especially disconcerting because I really like pizza.  This affection for pizza led me to my odd Margherita Pizza Project in which I forced myself to have every single margherita pizza served at the time in Houston.  It proved quite disappointing; the vast majority of the margherita pizzas served in Houston are rather mediocre or worse.
 
Margheritas are tough to do really well, but there were not a surfeit of pizza places doing much as well as I would have hoped.  So, I was very heartened to hear last year that the folks at Nancy’s Hustle in EaDo were going to open a pizza-centric place nearby.  Nancy’s Hustle is among my favorite restaurants and I know the chef there has a penchant for breads and pastas and thought that pizzas could be their next success.  Tiny Champions is.  With pizzas with a minimal amount of toppings that Tiny Champions does – like with the margherita – the quality of the dough is paramount.  This is the key thing that Tiny Champions has done very, very well in my several visits.
 
The pizzas here are minimalist in construction, ingredients are judiciously applied, but there is a lot of flavor in what there in the box are on the tray.  With thinness of the crust and the understated use of toppings, that crust has to be very well-made and flavorful or the pizzas will be disappointing.  But, the thin, bready and slightly chewy crusts cooked to firm crispness here are delectable. The pizzas look Italian, at least the way they do in a lot of Italy outside of Naples and the pizza al taglio in Rome that’s served by the rectangular slice to go.  It has a taste more reminiscent of the New York style, but not New York style.  It’s a somewhat unique taste, and one that’s delicious. 
 
The pies are very well-balanced, with a little of each working more than ably together and providing a lot of flavor.  There are a half-dozen standard creations presented on the menu in a wordy format: tomato, mozzarella, speck, pineapple, and fresh jalapeños; tomato, mozzarella, sausage, onions, peppers, and basil; tomato, garlic, anchovy, herby oil ricotta cream spiked with chile, a Tuscan style dry salami, with fennel, fresh herbs, maybe more fennel; ricotta cream, mozzarella, kale, Swiss chard, and pickled garlic; and the cheese pizza – tomato, mozzarella, Parmesan.  If you want to build on the cheese pizza base, you’ve got a limited but better than most array of: pepperoni, fennel sausage, anchovies, roasted mushrooms, roasted onions, fresh jalapeños, mixed olives, and a slew of sauces for dipping the crust or more – garlic chili oil, herb-inflected oil, hot sauce, a fancy ranch, Parmesan, salami XO.
 
A very welcome sign, is that the pizza from Tiny Champions don’t suffer much at all in transit.  Given their thin crusts, they might reach a more tepid temperature than the typical pizza, but the good taste remains.  I’m not at all opposed to pineapple on pizzas – seemingly unlike a great many with Italian last names – and the one here paired with speck, a better ham, and spiked with fresh jalapeños is delicious.
 
But, pizza is not alone among the enticements at Tiny Champions.  It’s a different array that you might expect from a pizza joint: there are several pasta preparations featuring soft pastas made in house, an array of appetizers numbering a baker’s dozen with strong Italian and Mediterranean accents and often acidic notes, ice creams sometimes with a savory bent made by the restaurant, along with cocktails, beers and an adventurous, well-edited wine list that you might expect with Sean Jensen involved.  I haven’t sampled any in my three visits to pick up food, but I imagine these are all quite commendable or better given the quality of the pizzas and the association with Nancy’s Hustle.
 
I haven’t dined in, yet, but after three pizzas, I’ll quickly state that Tiny Champions is the best pizzeria in Houston.
 
Tiny Champions
2617 McKinney (east of Emancipation), 77003, (713) 485-5329
tinychampionshouston.com

​A few years ago, my group at work ventured out for lunch a ways down the Southwest Freeway to dine at the vegetarian southern Indian restaurant specializing in thalis, Maharaja Bhog.  One of my co-workers from India wanted us to experience it.  After arriving, the bulk of us had to wait a few minutes on two of the group who were uncharacteristically late.  Both from China, they had stopped into Peking Cuisine a couple of doors down to order Peking duck for dinner for their families that they would pick up after lunch. 
 
I had recommended Peking Cuisine in my Houston Dining on the Cheap guidebook some years earlier, though it been a while since I had dined there and I didn’t realize that Peking duck for take-away was an option or popular.  My limited Mandarin skills might make that a difficult proposition, but I was happy to learn about it.  And, I thought that it was great that there was not just those two places that draw diners, discriminating diners at that, but a third located in between those, Pho Binh.
 
So, set on a feeder road of the freeway and S. Gessner in a bland strip mall In three successive storefronts from left to right are a southern Indian vegetarian restaurant offering something fairly unique for the city, a Vietnamese spot known primarily for its pho, as its name indicates, and a Chinese restaurant specializing in northern Chinese cooking – and Sichuan, too, now, as most Chinese restaurants seem to be these days.  Not just diversity, but diversity with commendable quality.  I’ve enjoyed each.  Peking Cuisine, not too far from the nexus of authentic Chinese eateries on Bellaire Boulevard has long had a good reputation.  Pho Binh, at least its original address, is the most lauded pho spot in the area, and Majarja Bhog has been touted by more than a few folks from southern India.
 
I happened to be down there last Saturday and it seems that all is the same as it was, thankfully, and the strip center is even nicer now, a bit less depressing-looking than it once was.  The setting never seemed to impact the tastiness of the food, in any case.

​Pizza originated in Italy, to be sure, but it is not originally Italian.  This is because pizza is specifically Neapolitan in origin.  It’s from Naples, the big, chaotic and historic port city in southern Italy, and pizza actually spread more quickly throughout the U.S. than it did elsewhere in Italy, as odd as that may seem.  Pizza initially traveled with the immigrants from Naples and its environs, of whom there were many to the U.S.  To note, the Sicilian pizza is also fair part the pizza landscape here.  Arriving later, it was derived from the sfincione served in Palermo, a type of spongy focaccia, but that’s for another tale.
 
A brief history of pizza in America until it become popular
 
One of the most important events in the gustatory history of the country seems to have begun officially in 1905 when Gennaro Lombardi, a native of Naples, opened the first licensed pizzeria in America in Manhattan’s Little Italy, Lombardi’s.  He had been making versions of this strictly Neapolitan fast food at the bakery in which he worked, which was also being done elsewhere, at least in his neighborhood.  The New York Tribune noted a couple of years earlier in 1903 in Little Italy that “apparently the Italian has invented a kind of pie. The ‘pomidore pizza,’ or tomato pie.”  These pizza pies were just the province of these Neapolitans; in Italy at the time, it was not found outside of the vicinity of Naples. “There are only two places in New York where you can get real, genuine Neapolitan pizze. One is on Spring Street and one on Grand. The rest are Americanized substitutes,” reported an informed source, “the Dago,” in a Sun piece in the summer of 1905.
 
These pizzas first found an audience with those recently arrived Neapolitans and quickly spread to all the Italians living in the neighborhood.  Pizza has proven to be a very easy sell over the years.  In the 1920s and 1930s Lombardi’s former employees, all Neapolitans, opened pizzerias in Brooklyn, East Harlem and uptown Manhattan that would be destined to become icons in their own right.  But, pizzas were really an ethnic, mostly Italian, specialty until after the Second World War, even in New York City.   Also in the 1920s, pizzerias were opened by Neapolitan immigrants in the Italian neighborhoods of New Haven, Connecticut, Trenton, and Boston.  Philadelphia and Chicago were two of the few other cities with Neapolitan pizzaioli and pizza before the Depression. 
 
Pizza spread throughout the country after the Second World War, as it began to be served well beyond the Italian neighborhoods.  Starting and growing in areas with virtually no competition from pizzerias with Italian antecedents, several regional, national and international pizza companies got their start in the mid-1950s to 1960: Shakey’s in Sacramento in 1954 – the name referencing one of its malaria-damaged owners – Pizza Hut in Wichita and Pizza Inn in Dallas in 1958, Little Caesar’s in suburban Detroit in 1959, and Domino’s in Ypsilanti, Michigan in 1960.  Commercially made gas and electric pizza ovens, along with large mixers for the dough introduced in the mid-1950s, helped make the creation of the pizzas easier, far less dependent on a seasoned pizza-maker. American business know-how helped even more.  The franchise system increased the number of branches and market presence quickly.  Even if far from the best pizzas around – the pies usually featured doughier and blander crusts and lower-quality toppings – these pizza chains have been greatly enjoyed by millions over the years.  Not incidentally, with tremendous insight, or luck, Pizza Hut, Dominos and Pizza Inn first opened right near colleges and universities whose enrollment grew tremendously from the 1950s on, something that these chain pizza joints rode to continued and continuing success.
 
An even briefer history of pizza in Italy outside of Naples
 
“Pizza, which was unknown in north Italy before the war” recounted cookbook author Marcella Hazan in her memoir Amacord.  Pizzas was difficult to find anywhere outside of the Naples region through the 1950s. Even in southern Italy beyond the greater Naples area, it was not be found.  A family friend from Reggio Calabria, the city at the toe of the boot, did not have her first pizza until she arrived in New York in the late 1950s.  She said that Naples was the only place in Italy to get pizza then.
 
It came to those other cities with transplanted Neapolitans who traveled north to find work in the industrial boom after the war.  For example, in Hazan’s northern region, Parma, a well-to-do and university city, got its first pizzeria in 1960 started by a person from Salerno, south of Naples.  Though now popular throughout Italy, pizza has taken hold the most in a city closer to Naples, Rome, which has developed a couple distinctive versions.  The first was pizza tonda, a round pizza with a blistered cracker-thin crust that grew out of the Neapolitan versions.  Then came pizza al taglio, a long rectangular pizza without Neapolitan antecedents, which is more like a focaccia and sold mostly in take-away places.  It has become synonymous with Roman pizza outside of Rome.  The Eternal City also currently boasts some excellent pizzerias making version similar to those in Naples.    
 
It is true what Carol Helotsky wrote in her book Pizza - A Global History: “Pizza went from being strictly Neapolitan to being Italian-American and then becoming Italian,” though I’d clarify, adding that it became American after Italian-American.

Brandi in Naples, the birthplace of the margherita pizza, and the home of the best margherita pizza I've ever eaten.

​The smart, smallish storefront Indian restaurant on Durham not far south of Washington has been a regular stop for me since the pandemic began.  Convenient, even though I have to briefly enter the restaurant, a trip to pick up a meal is always quick, as the order is ready and the checkout is swift.  The food travels very well back home to consume, much better than from most places.  Surya was a regular stop for me before the pandemic began, mostly because I really enjoy the food.
 
I’ve really enjoyed pretty much everything there, and I’ve had, or nearly had, every entrée.  After ordering it more than a few times now, I have to finally admit that my favorite preparation is the Chicken Vindaloo, which I had once again the other day and edges out their version with lamb for me.  This Goan-originated dish was properly spicy, actually extremely spicy this last time – three glasses of water and a half-glass of milk were necessary to get through this lunch – but more significant was the deep flavor of the reddish-orange-colored sauce with an enjoyable brightness, richness and complexity that I could barely pause from, ladling it on the terrific long-grain rice side or scooping it up with the soft, occasionally blistered fresh naan.  Studded with moist pieces of white chicken meat that are actually quite savory and cubes of soft potatoes, this is a delicious meal.
 
A visit to Surya, especially for the vindaloo, is one of things that helps makes these times more bearable.
 
Surya
700 Durham (a couple of blocks south of Washington), 77007
(713) 864-6667
suryahouston.com

​As much as I like Goode Co. Seafood, it had been a while since I had eaten there.  When picking up a weekend lunch for my parents on the west side, its location on I-10 seemed to be the right call.  And, being lunch, a seafood po boy and fries seemed to be right order.  Actually, we all ordered that, if each with a different po boy.  Fried shrimp for me, and fried oyster and fried catfish ones for my parents.  We all loved what we got.
 
I am big fan of shrimp po boys, that New Orleans-bred sandwich classic.  The crunch of the properly fried shrimp, the succulence of good-quality shrimp – which very easy to get here – the taste of a fresh, crusty short loaf of French bread that’s fully dressed, a complement of shredded iceberg lettuce, tomato slices, a fair amount of mayonnaise slathered on the brad and a few thin rounds of pickles a touch more texture and hint of acidity. 
 
The excellent ones at Goode Co. Seafood are in the same vein, but just little different, a localized take.  The medium-sized shrimp are butterflied before frying and just five to a sandwich, not overflowing as it other places, but not skimpy.  In the finish-yourself version offered via takeout, the shrimp rest in the roll and on the side are an array of possible additions: shredded lettuce, a packet of mayonnaise, small containers of a piquant cocktail sauce, tartar sauce, pickles and another of pico de gallo in lieu of tomatoes, all house-made, of course, and then also a big wedge of lemon to squeeze on the shrimp.  I opted for some tartar sauce instead of my usual, and the traditional, mayonnaise and plenty of pico de gallo.  It all worked quite well together.  Helping the enjoyment were some top-notch fries – not easy to find for takeout these days – skin-on, judiciously salted and crisper and tastier than most, even after a little travel.
 
Liking the meal so much, I had to pick up one to go again the following weekend at the address that is more convenient to me, the original one on Westpark.  I resisted temptation to try something new, and a little healthier, the mesquite-grilled shrimp po boy.  Deep-fried that time, too, and equally delicious.
 
Goode Co. Seafood
2621 Westpark (just west of Kirby), 77098, (713) 523-7154
10201 Katy Freeway (between Gessner and the Beltway), 77024, (713) 464-7933

As bad as 2020 has been concerning restaurant closures, I expected worse.  Hopefully, most can hang on until things improve.  Here are the ones I found most notable that could not.

• Americas – The excitement and once even some magic associated with the Latin American-inspired Americas at its original Post Oak location had long since become muted as the years wore on and the city’s dining scene advanced.  With that and that the founding Cordua family had been forced out not so long ago, made the closure of this long enjoyable stop more bearable.
• Atlas Diner – Richard Knight, formerly of Feast and Hunky Dory and now this counter-laden space Bravery Chef Hall, is one of my favorite chefs in Houston and I believe among the best.  Hopefully, his always adroitly rendered and often imaginative offerings rooted in British, French and American antecedents find a suitable home in the future.
• Barry’s Pizza – The thick Sicilian-style pies were a draw at this casual pizza parlor that made it nearly four decades, announcing that it was shuttering for good at the end of May.
• Bernie’s Burger Bus – All four locations closed of the city’s best burger joint closed on May 31. 
• Bombay Pizza Co. – Something different and usually quite enjoyable on a particularly scruffy short stretch part of Main Street, this closure seems more than temporary, unfortunately.
• Burger-Chan – One of Houston’s best burger places, it couldn’t really continue in an office food court when the offices are emptied of workers.  Thankfully, another one is reportedly in the works.
• The Classic –  The contemporary diner on the western part of Washington from the folks at benjy’s and Local Diner never really excited too many diners, myself included.
• Dak & Bop (Museum District location) – Less fun for the kids in the Museum District and most of us who enjoy spicy fried stuff that is well made.
• Emmaline – A decent spot for a fairly upscale dining experience though never nearly among the city’s top dozens, but it was near my office.  My endearing memory is their valet service damaging tow of my co-workers’ vehicles during one lunchtime visit.
• Helen in the Heights – Though a welcome addition to the Heights, this never seemed to catch on as it might.
• Indika – Though it had lost its shine when founder Anita Jaisinghani sold it to concentrate on Pondicheri, it was still quite worth a visit until changes were made in the menu and emphasis, which didn’t really endear until many, most diners had moved on.
• Kaneyama – On Westheimer near Gessner, this sushi purveyor had its fans over the years but closed in May.
• Kenny & Ziggy’s (Buffalo Speedway location) – Owner Kenny Gruber cited the smallish dining room as making operations unprofitable with the necessary restrictions for service during the pandemic.  A shame, as it is much more convenient for me than the Galleria area spot.  A place I like to go when I feel my cholesterol is too low.
• Morningstar Coffee and Donuts – Well-liked and -regarded, this quirky and likeable Heights-esque spot just closed in December.
• Night Heron – From the folks at Coltivare, Indianola and Vinny’s, this never resonated with its Menil area neighbors – an odd menu off the bat didn’t help – nor too many others as did its predecessors.
• Pappas Seafood – Along with the location of Pappadeaux a little west on Richmond, this little Pappas Seafood place with its largely locally attuned seafood at Shepherd shows a Pappas move away from the inner loop (excepting the grand steakhouse downtown).  Another on Aldine-Bender and I-45 also closed.
• Pappadeaux (Richmond east of Kirby location) – Large and with a seemingly usually filled parking lot during popular dining hours, there are other Pappeadeaux’s left, though none now in the heart of town.
• Poitin – Nicely set with a cool view of downtown to its east, with a fairly expansive dining room and bar area, the odds were stacked against it during these tough times.
• Politan Row Food Hall – Some really neat and well-operated recent vendors made this a destination, more of note as its Rice Village surroundings has become more chain-oriented with its restaurant choices.
• Ragin’ Cajun (Westchase location) – The original location on Richmond Avenue remains open, and this near westside address made it for a couple of decades, a good run for any restaurant.
• Treebeards (on Market Square) – The Cloisters location is still open for your fix of southeast Texas-style red beans and rice.
• Yia Yia Mary’s – Pappas most explicit nod to their Greek heritage was a nice option to have in the area that did not survive the pandemic, either.

 
Bars

• Alice’s Tall Texas – On North Main west of I-45, the cheap Lone Star that was its hallmark has possibly become less of an attraction as surrounding area at the edge of the Heights has become less working class.
• Penny Quarter – One of Houston’s best wine bars, and certainly the noisiest, it will be missed, but the able team behind it – including principals Bobby Heugel of Anvil and Justin Yu of Better Luck Tomorrow – should hopefully be adding to the bar map once the pandemic clears.
• Public Services – This attractive bar a block south of Buffalo Bayou was excellent in turns for its cocktails, wines and spirits, especially whisky, and with service that was always a cut above.

 
Other

• Acadian Bakers – A longtime favorite for cakes closed in March.
• Boomtown Coffee (Main and Congress location) – The smart-looking Main Street location of Boomtown closed its doors in mid-July.

 
There is also Dolce Vita that was long the city’s best pizzeria – in a city rather lacking in quality pizza.  It’s closure was a decision by owner Marco Wiles independent of the pandemic to focus on his other two concepts, Da Marco and Poscol, as he has gotten older.

The whimsical Ants on a Log from the Atlas Diner

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

​I was on a webinar the other day about how restaurateurs are rethinking the fine dining model during the disruption caused by the pandemic.  One of the panelists was the owner of the Il Gattopardo Group of Neapolitan-rooted restaurants in New York and the chairman of the Gruppo Italiano, which promotes authentic Italian food products and dining, Gianfranco Sorrentino.  He made an assertion that struck a chord: “Nothing can replace the experience of dining at a busy Italian restaurant.”  Something that is not currently available in New York, or here.
 
Though I have greatly enjoyed busy, quality restaurants of all stripes over the years, maybe there is something special about busy Italian – and also Italian-American  – ​restaurants at dinnertime: the oft-gracious and gregarious owners and staff, that there is wine at every table, the greater volubility, and the seeming pleasure of the patrons, maybe more so than at other types of restaurants.
 
The comment made me think of some of the more memorable or enjoyable times at a “busy Italian restaurant” over the years.  Grotto in Houston, during its glory days in its original location in the early 1990s when it garnered some national attention, was a go-to first date place for me for years with its usually excellent, vibrant Americanized Italian fare that drew on owner Tony Vallone’s familial ties to the Naples area in always bustling, festive setting aided by slightly bawdy murals and in an atmosphere that I found eminently comfortable. It also drew plentiful numbers of patrons with a lot more money and taste than I had at the time, leading me to believe I knew more than I did about dining Italian-style.
 
Without the same type of style, though as busy, or busier, was Cunetto House of Pasta in St. Louis where I traveled for work later that decade.  It was packed each of the few times I went, usually having to wait with an appropriately stiff drink or two in the homey, somewhat tacky (or just Midwestern) bar area before proceeding to the dining room that was invariably filled with pasty and plus-sized St. Louisans to fill up on wonderfully over-sauced and tasty plates of Italian-American pastas or tender, succulent pieces of veal along with the din of diners doing the same, happily. 
 
Il Latini in Florence was recommended by the owners of the pensione where I stayed along with a couple friends and it initially seemed that it might have been a tourist trap as we waited in with other visitors in a queue for a table, but the food and experience were terrific – excellent versions of the robust Tuscan classics including an entire roasted rabbit on a spit that evening and well-made, too-easy-to-drink vino rosso della casa served in fun 1 ½-liter fiaschi – and all for a comparative song.  There is a reason why it has long been a Bib Gourmand selection in the Michelin guide, and a wise detour for a couple of hours of gastronomic fun while in Florence.
 
Maybe a year or two after that initial visit to Il Latini, my brother and I were in New Orleans for a pre-wedding celebration for our other brother.  That first evening we ended up at the very popular Eleven 79, a Creole-accented Italian-American that shuttered a few years ago.  The visit to a prime table in the middle of a very crowded, boisterous dining room, courtesy of a connected local, was prefaced by an arguably obscene number of drinks, in typical New Orleans tourist fashion, and possibly helped in the enjoyment of the crawfish bisque and tender, excellent veal scallops cooked with spinach.
 
On a first night in another city some years later, Sorrento, La Basilica was the busy Italian restaurant that my family and I visited to great luck.  Sitting in one of the numerous tables in a small piazza adjacent to the restaurant, both the Neapolitan classics, especially the pastas and preparations with local shellfish, and the atmosphere, were excellent.  The wine, beginning with a top-notch Prosecco from the Cartizze region and then a fair amount of local Fiano and Greco white wines, aided it all.
 
The most recent of the most enjoyable visits to a busy Italian restaurant was to the least Italian of these.  It was a couple of summers ago, again with my family, to Franceschetta 58 in Modena, the sibling to the high-flying Osteria Francescana, which had just been named the best restaurant in the world for a second time.  Its cuisine, somewhat reflective of its staff, was wide-ranging and not necessarily all Italian.  No matter, it was in Italy and a lot fun.  And, I had a really tasty pasta dish – Abruzzese-style chitarra spaghetti with bread crumbs and an anchovy sauce – in any case.  The visit was particularly memorable, in large part, because we nearly didn’t eat there at all, arriving late in the lunch hour without a reservation and with ten people.  Initially turned away, the very accommodating front of the house folks, eventually found room for us, scattered in several tables in the small dining room.  The closeness of tables and the conviviality of the guests from around much of the globe and the waitstaff made for a memorable visit complemented by interesting, mostly all delicious fare.
 
These are first of the visits that come to mind.  Yes, there does seem to be something about “a busy Italian restaurant.”

Paccheri with local seafood at La Basilica in Sorrento

​Just recently, the best burger and pizza joints have shuttered, Bernie’s Burger Bus and Dolce Vita, respectively.  The best stop for kolaches, by far and away the best place for kolaches in the area, in my opinion, is still open, the Kolache Shoppe, with two locations.
 
As I try to support worthwhile local restaurants as much as I can, safely and daily, I’ve visited the Kolache Shoppe a few times, with the drive-thru at the Heights spot being especially handy.  It’s been wonderful; I’ve had a couple of the best meals from there since the shuttering of the restaurants in March.  The kolaches, both the traditional and savory, are the best of breed.  The savory ones are technically called klobasniky in the plural in Czech, at least for the pigs-in-a-blanket versions, but seemingly only the uptight writers or editors at Texas Monthly really care about that.  They are all kolaches in the common parlance here: the traditional Old World-derived fruit-or-cheese-filled pastries, those sausage-centric pigs-in-a-blanket, the nicely caloric breakfast ones often with Tex-Mex fillings along with the newer styles featuring beef brisket or boudin inside.  All the versions at the Kolache Shoppe are excellent.
 
The quality begins with the dough, just slightly sweet, airy, fresh-tasting, and flavorful, unfailingly complementing whatever filling it surrounds.  It’s the best kolache dough I’ve encountered in memory.  And, those fillings are usually terrific, too.  Breakfast sausage, egg, pickled jalapeño and cheddar cheese; Pinkerton’s brisket, egg, cheddar cheese and pickled jalapeño; Kiolbassa brand sausage link and cheddar cheese; and strawberry and lemon cream, both of these topped with a judicious amount of sugar, are a few of the ones I’ve really enjoyed in recent weeks.
 
I’ve eaten a lot of kolaches over the years, most of them not that great or worse – mostly courtesy of The Kolache Factory, which is cheap and convenient, a once guilty pleasure, often when hungover.  There have been better ones than those around here, if not quite the Kolache Shoppe level like from Original Kolache Shoppe on Telephone Road, a long-shuttered place called Bright and Early, and ones from Underbelly and also Monica Pope at the Saturday farmers market.  Kolache eating in earnest for me began with trips to and from Austin years ago when I was in school and afterwards.  Weikel’s in La Grange became a near-must stop either way, and was long a benchmark for me.  It’s been eons since I’ve been there or nearby Hruska’s in Ellinger.  I’ll need to revisit those and probably a few others before stating definitively that the Kolache Shoppe serves the best kolaches in the state. I haven’t had any better thus far, and that includes all four places in West, Texas, the small Czech-American community north of Waco that is known for its kolaches, and Kenner’s Kolache Bakery upstate in Arlington that has a good reputation, the furthest from home I’ve had kolaches.
 
No matter where the Kolache Shoppe might eventually rank among the best kolache shops of the state in my research, it continues to make brilliant kolaches right here in Houston.
 
The Kolache Shoppe
3945 Richmond (just east of Weslayan), 77027, (713) 626-4580
1031 Heights Boulevard (entrance on Yale just south of 11th Street), 77008, (281) 846-6499
kolacheshoppe.com

Since restaurants and bars have shuttered here in mid-March, I’ve tried to pick up a meal or some wine each and every day, at least something small that I can do to support the local hospitality industry, which such a big part of many of our lives.  Though certainly everyone knows that a great many restaurants are still serving in some limited capacity, many might not know that wine can be purchased at a number of these restaurants for consumption at home – that couldn’t be done before – and, also, a number of wine bars are also offering wines for takeaway.  Wine shops really need your help, too.
 
Below are a few restaurants that Houston wine aficionados might want to visit.  Though prices are likely higher than what you usually spend on a comparable bottle at a store, just think of this as something you might be at the restaurant, where prices are necessarily more expensive.  You are trying to help the restaurant, after all.       
 
Restaurants

• a’Bouzy – The fantastic array of champagne that is terrifically priced is now 10% off with a food order.  The food is no great shakes here, but it’s certainly worth stomaching for the discount.
• Amalfi – One of the city’s best Italian restaurant is offering their mostly Italian list at 25% off.  Unfortunately, the list is currently not shown online.
• Bravery Chef Hall – The wine bar at Houston’s best food hall has a pretty decent selection of wines, both from the New and Old World and even some on tap.
• Brennan’s – A limited selection, but pretty nice wines and pretty decent values: Hexamer Riesling ($24), Le Suffrene Bandol Rosé ($28), and Jean Louis Chave Cotes du Rhone ($30).
• Georgia James – Wine Director Matthew Pridgen has long curated some of my favorite lists now here, One Fifth and UB Preserv, and now every wine on this list, if available, has the following discounts: one to five bottles are 20% off; six to eleven bottles are 30% off; and a dozen and more are 40% off.
• Giacomo's - Has reopened and wines from its excellent and quite interesting list of mostly Italian and French labels that are priced more gently than most restaurants is even 25% now for take-away.
• Riel – This Montrose stalwart has an eclectic fairly wide-ranging list.
• Theodore Rex – The funky-edged list from local wine star Justin Vann – also responsible for the wines at Public Services, Squable, and Penny Quarter – is available for 15% off. 

 
Though one of my favorite wine bars, and cocktail bars, for that matter, Public Services, stopped selling wine for takeaway after an initial go at it, and the slick La Grande Rue in the Heights shuttered, hopefully temporarily, earlier in April, there are still a number of laudable wine bars and wine shops to frequent:
 
Wine bars and shops

• Avondale – A restaurant with one city’s most underappreciated chefs – the very skilled and experienced Olivier Ciesielski a former executive chef at Tony’s – this does double duty as a wine shop with some neat selections, some with some age on them.
• Camerata – This serious wine bar is kind of pricey, but there are certainly some nice wines, and a fine place for enological exploration.
• D&Q Mini Mart – Known more for its beer choices, especially Belgian and hop-laden, there is a small but cool selection of wines here that make it well worth keeping an imbiber’s radar.
• French Country Wines – Offering a small selection of small producers largely from the south of France and the Loire, there is also an excellent Burgundy producer and welcome wines from Bordeaux, often the Right Bank and south of the city.  Since the shutdown, the store has been offering a couple of daily discounts that can be tough to ignore.  And, nicely, for retail sales, it has absorbed the tariffs on French wines.
• The Heights Grocer – This shop on N. Main bordering the Heights has a smallish but interesting selection that can appeal to the refined, eclectic palate of the nearby well-healed.  Prices aren’t bad; there are even a few under $20.
• Houston Wine Merchant – The city’s best wine little wine store is just open for curbside pickup, so you’ve got to do your browsing beforehand online.
• Light Years – Specializing in natural wines, the labels will likely be much more unfamiliar, the wines more variable – and typically not-so-cheap – but this small house-based shop near the Menil can be a place to explore, and it offers day deliveries that are free on orders above $60 inside the Loop.
• TuttiLilli – An Italian counterpart to French Country Wines a few doors down from it, this has a small collection of wines, mostly from different regions and different names.
• 13 Celsius – My favorite wine bar in Houston, and the best, I believe.  The expansive selection is very well-chosen and now 35% of the previous menu prices, which weren’t that bad at all for a wine bar.  One example, Raina Grechetto is $29.25 here versus $36 at Camerata.
• Vinology – About 350 labels, mostly from the Old World, this is an enticing stop for wine lovers not far from the Upper Kirby and Rice Village.

During this very strange time of sheltering in place, with restaurants open just for take-away and delivery, if open at all, I’ve been trying to safely support worthwhile, local establishments on a daily basis.  Restaurants certainly need more customers, almost without exception, as daily turnover is a fraction of what it normally is.  Those that have remained open have had to shift operations often dramatically to be able to serve customers solely outside of their premises.  This has meant limited menus in most cases and some inevitable hiccups along the way.  I think that it’s been a good idea to ignore these for the most part, as this is all so new.
 
Some of the places where I have had good luck so far, and which I recommend, are: Backstreet Café, BB's Café, Christian's Tailgate (of which only the Midtown location is open), Common Bond, Cuchara, Hugo's, The Kolache Shoppe, The Mucky Duck, Surya, and Underbelly Hospitality (Chris Shepherd’s restaurants).  Along with a substantial portion of their regular menus, both Backstreet Café and Hugo’s are now serving breakfast tacos for $2.50 each daily from 9:00 to 11:00.  Fairly hefty and tasty, these are great values.  I wish I could include Izakaya, where I had a very good lunch featuring tuna poke, but it has since stopped serving.  This is in order to protect staff and customers according to the notes posted at the restaurant.  Another of my favorite spots, Giacomo’s, also started and then stopped service for a similar announced reason.
 
Though spending a little more at better restaurants has been satisfying both in terms of the quality of the food and believing that I’m helping in a small way to give places like those mentioned above a chance to survive this very trying time, I’m sometimes busy, or just feeling cheap, and a drive-thru has made the most sense.  Oui Banh Mi on Richmond remains a generally reliable, usually fresh-tasting and always inexpensive option for banh mi and spring rolls, even if its intercom, annoyingly, has never worked slowing down the drive-thru experience.  Much less satisfying, but more convenient, Brookstreet BBQ and Whataburger have also gotten my business in the past couple of weeks.  And, KFC, too.  That’s easily been the best of the drive-thru fare thus far, I’m a tad bit surprised to admit.  Original Recipe.  The Colonel is still killing it, mostly, at least recently.

The brisket and egg breakfast taco at Backstreet Cafe this morning.