One of the main attractions of wine bars for me is the opportunity to discover new wines, especially new wines that I can comfortably afford.  Thankfully, there are a handful of wine bars in Houston that do an excellent job in selecting wines and in introducing new wines to their offerings on a regular basis.

The best value of these is the relaxed and comfortable, and amusingly named, How to Survive on Land and Sea in the East End on Harrisburg.  This is because every day from 4:00 to 8:00, every day, it offers a red, white rosé and sparkling wine for just $5.50 a glass, with a regular-sized pour.  Amazingly, it’s been my experience that each of the four happy hour wines is very knowingly selected and often delicious.  I’ve about a dozen of these happy hour wines in the course of more than a few visits.

​The happy hour wines and the selections overall have a strong Old World tilt – restrained fruit notes, evident acidity, and more earthiness or minerality, generally – which I enjoy.  A few of the highlights have been:

Domaine Jean Royer Le Petit Roy 2020, Rhone, France – A blend of Mourvedre Grenache, Syrah and some Alicante, along with a bit of Chateauneuf du Pape wine that didn't make it into those bottles. This is essentially a Cotes du Rhone without the name, with maybe some more heft.  With more fruit than can be expected for a Cotes du Rhone, this is nicely balanced and quite easy to drink by itself. And typical of the area these days, it registers at 14.5% alcohol, hardly petit, but it doesn’t seem overly hardy.

Heger Pinot Noir 2015, Baden, Germany – More straightforward and not quite as interesting, but very enjoyable is this juicy and lively medium-bodied, well-rounded red wine from Germany.  One of the benefits of global warming is that there is more and more good Pinot Noir coming from Germany, and this is an affordable example.

Weszeli Zweigelt Rosé 2020, Kamptal, Austria – It’s tough for me not to look toward a rosé during these long summer months and this unusual one from Austria is easy to like.  It is made with 80% Zweigelt and 20% Cabernet Franc, all from older vines.  With nice fruit like some peach and raspberry, evident minerality, and tartness from the Zweigelt, it has some more structure than most rosés at this price point that might be welcome.

Weingut Schlossmuhlenhof 'Boden Funk' Riesling, Rheinhessen, Germany – This very dry, unfiltered Riesling is not-at-all funky despite the label and would likely appeal to those white wine drinkers who shy away from the varietal. Lots of acidity and citrus notes highlight this very well-made wine that I found terribly refreshing on a hot, humid day.

Zull Grüner Veltliner 2020, Weinviertel, Austria – More flavorful than the typical inexpensive 1-liter sized Grüner Veltliner, this is decidedly crisp, with some pear and minerals on the palate and that is easy to consume.

I would have, and have, readily paid the full price – two or two-and-half times the happy hour tariff – for each of these wines and a few others.  As far I can tell, most of the happy hour wines retail between $15 and $25 if you can find them elsewhere.  Most importantly, these have been very well chosen.

​Houston to Survive on Land and Sea
3401 Harrisburg (at Sampson), 77003, (346) 320-2926
howtosurvivehtx.com

In a review of an Italian restaurant a few years ago, the doyenne of local food writers raved that "the house-made pastas here are so good, so springily al dente..."  Not the correct choice of words; not the "springily," which my spell-checker flagged, but "al dente."  The mistake is forgivable, as most food writers - and most everyone - are quick to use "al dente" when describing pasta whether or not the pasta is actually al dente.

Concerning the attributes of house-made, or freshly made pasta - pasta fresca in Italian - the words "al dente" are never correct.  "You cannot do fresh pasta al dente!" screamed the longtime, Italian-bred chef at San Francisco's famed Fior d'Italia some years ago on a Travel Channel show, Pasta Paradises.  And a cookbook on the subject, Pasta Fresca, similarly related that "fresh pasta will not have the al dente quality of dried pasta, but instead will be meltingly tender to the bite."  It is the commercially made dried pasta - pasta secca - made with hard wheat flour like the familiar spaghetti, linguine and penne found in supermarkets is what can be - and, according to Italians, should be cooked al dente.  This is the toothsome texture, neither too hard and certainly not mushy, but a bit chewy.

There is a caveat or two.  Freshly made pasta using hard wheat flour is a tradition in parts of southern Italy like the orecchiette in Puglia that can be cooked al dente.  It is quite rare here, as soft wheat flour - such as all-purpose - requires much less effort to make into pasta by hand.  You might find some pastas made in this age-old fashion at restaurants, but it is very much an exception.  Also, hard wheat flour is found in the egg pastas imported from Italy that are often used as a substitute, as I'm apt to make, for fresh pasta.  These are typically packaged as little nests or balls of pasta.  By law in Italy any packaged dry pasta has to use hard wheat flour even if that type flour might be traditional for that style of pasta.

I think that the biggest reason "al dente" is thrown about is that its use signals that the diner knows the subject.  Knows pasta, like how catchwords and -phrases are quickly thrown about by most of us.  The words "pasta" and "al dente" just go together when talking about food, whether or not they should go together for that particular preparation.  Americans typically like their pasta like spaghetti cooked to a much softer consistency than al dente.  That might not be an issue.  It just shouldn't be called "al dente" and that phrase should be used much more sparingly.

Spaghetti alle vongole in Sorrento, cooked nicely al dente

Always taking the brief restaurant reviews in Texas Monthly with a grain or two of salt, I wasn’t too surprised to find in an otherwise positive review published last month for Tonight & Tomorrow in the recently refurbished La Colombe d’Or on Montrose a demerit like this: “Less successful was the bucatini, an undercooked pasta that heirloom tomatoes and pistou could not save.”

I immediately understood the phrase “undercooked pasta” as meaning that the pasta was cooked al dente or, more likely, even beyond that.  The Dictionary of Italian Food and Drink defines it as being “somewhat chewy, neither hard nor mushy.”  In one of her cookbooks Lidia Bastianich describes that “al dente is a sensation of slight resistance, generated by the pressure of chewing.”  Cooking dried pasta – only dried pasta can be cooked al dente – to a soft, near-resistance-free consistency, not al dente, is what the vast majority of Americans do.  This is why the box of DeCecco linguine in my pantry gives two different instructions for boiling – “Cooking Time: 12 Min / Al Dente: 10 Min.”

The owner of Perbacco, the longstanding Italian eatery in a corner of the Pennzoil Building downtown that does pasta well, made it a point to complain to me once how Americans like their pasta overcooked.  He didn’t seem too happy about it, but for me, I don’t see it as really a problem unless the pasta gets mushy or loses some of its flavor being too soft.  Let people cook it how they like it.  And Americans largely like their pasta fairly soft; Italians like their pasta more toothsome, al dente.  Though Italians might disagree, I believe it’s mostly a matter of preference.

And I believe that pasta cooked al dente is certainly not undercooked.

With the opening of another branch of the fast-casual Bao Shi Yi, there are now three Chinese restaurants serving genuine Chinese food along a stretch of Holcombe just over a block long centered around Morningside not too far west of the Medical Center.  With its numerous researchers and doctors from China, The Medical Center is a big reason for this.  And this highlights one of the most significant and welcome changes in Houston dining in the past two decades: the availability of authentic Chinese inside the Loop.  I try to avoid using “authentic” especially concerning cuisines from places I haven’t traveled, but I believe it’s correct, or mostly so, in this case.

When I started writing about restaurants in Houston that began with the inaugural edition of Houston Dining on the Cheap in 2002, with an easily overlooked exception or two, the only restaurants that were serving dishes beyond the familiar Chinese-American staples in all their gloppiness were in and around Bellaire Boulevard.  Now the list of actually Chinese Chinese restaurants inside the Loop includes:

Bao Shi Yi (2) – northern Chinese dumplings and bao
Dumpling Haus – pan-Chinese dumplings
Hu’s Cooking – Sichuan and some Taiwanese
Mala Sichuan – Sichuan
Mama’s Kitchen – Sichuan and some Taiwanese
One Dim Sum – Cantonese
Pepper Twins (2) – Sichuan
Spicy Girl – Sichuan
Siu Lap City – Cantonese barbecue
Trendy Dumpling – Sichuan
Wanna Bao – Shanghai and Sichuan
 
I quite enjoy Pepper Twins, Wanna Bao, Mala Sichuan and Cooking Girl where I picked up a really enjoyable lunch today.  The Bao Shi Yi on Kirby has a drive-thru, so it draws some occasional attention, too.  Its dumplings are usually tasty as is the not-sure-it’s-so-authentic deep-fried Popcorn Chicken.
 
The number of contemporary Chinese restaurants has grown with growth of immigration and migration from China.  Along with those working the Medical Center, the number of Chinese in Houston has grown significantly, and it’s often professionals at companies inside the Loop, like my own.  It can pay to help feed them.  That’s been a boon to Houston diners, regardless of origin, with more good restaurants, an increased diversity in cuisines, and a few really fine values, too.

From Pepper Twins

Though dining in Houston is more expensive than ever, even during the hopeful tail end of the pandemic, there a still some very good dining values. When I compiled this list five years ago, I had ten restaurants; now I felt compelled to make it a dozen. The best dining values do not mean the cheapest joints, but are those that provide the best food for its price. Sometimes cheap is just cheap. Leading the way for best dining values are banh mi and Mexican spots, like before. Here are the dozen best:
 
Aladdin – Picking up a tray and gazing across the partition into an expanse of enticing, mostly vegetarian preparations – roughly 30 items most lunchtimes well beyond the two types of creamy hummus and baba ganoush – is just a preface to an enjoyable and very affordable meal, as the dishes often taste even better than they look. A well-cooked meat like chicken shawarma, lamb gyro or one of the day’s stews, comes with two sides on filling platter for just $13.99 and usually a dollar cheaper during lunch. Not only the best value Middle Eastern restaurant, Aladdin is one of the best in Houston.  912 Westheimer (at Montrose), 77006, (713) 942-2321

Baguette & Tea – This tiny spot in a small strip center across from the West Alabama Ice House is worth enduring the usually terrible parking – a block or so walk might be in order – for some of the best renditions of banh mi in the city. There are seven different filling options for these geared toward inner Loopers led by the Spice BBQ Pork (thit nuong) and the Grilled Lemongrass Beef, of course. Sandwiches and Asian teas and other drinks in a variety of renditions are the main draws here, but there is also pho, vermicelli bowls, rice plates with the less-seen-these-days broken rice, and fried rice, with only one item on the menu over $7.  2007 W. Alabama (at McDuffie), 77098, (832) 516-8871

The Cuban Station – This low-volume counter-service – or window-service, actually – operation with a handful of tables located within the convenience store section of a Chevron gas station on Harrisburg a couple of miles east of downtown provides an excellent value led by the iconic Cuban sandwich at the top of the menu and which the owner is quick to recommend. It is delicious, probably the best version of it in the city, and also quite substantial, just over a foot long, only $7.49, amazingly cheap for the heft and quality. There are a number of other inexpensively priced sandwiches, Cuban-influenced and otherwise, hamburgers, including one with a one-pound patty for a relative song, and batidos, fruit shakes. Nothing is over $8 here. The necessary short wait is well worth it. Lunch and early dinner. 5001 Harrisburg (between Lockwood and Alt 90), 77011, (832) 272-9680

Giacomo’s – This comfortable and eminently enjoyable River Oaks spot is a casual Italian restaurant done right, or an appealing neighborhood restaurant of any stripe done right. The well-executed fare is vibrant, light on its feet, and properly evoking Italy, often with dishes inspired from chef-proprietor Lynette Hawkins days growing up in Rome and Tuscany. Nothing is over $20 and there are plenty of items that are meant to share. And, its list of nearly all-Italian wines – interesting, very well-selected and easily affordable – is still likely the best value wine list with any breadth in the city.  3215 Westheimer (at Bammel Lane), 77098, (713) 522-1934

Istanbul Grill – A reason to brave the traffic and parking travails in the Village with its interesting, well-prepared Turkish food in a pleasant, informal setting, often lively atmosphere, and noticeably friendly and eager service. Many of their traditional Anatolian items are baked in a brick oven that is evident in the somewhat open kitchen, including the distinctive Turkish pizzas that can provide a filling meal for $11-$15. The kabob platters are a great value here, easily worth the $15 tariff for the beef and lamb doner kabob and $16 for the lash shish kabob. The portions are generous and served with a large amount of moist rice and grilled tomatoes and bell peppers. Fresh and warm house-made thin pide bread nicely complements every table.  5613 Morningside (just north of University), 77005, (713) 526-2800

La Guadalupana – Though not much to look at, and really not much at all in terms of size, this is nonetheless an excellent neighborhood place for a pleasing Mexican meal in the morning or afternoon, or to grab some attractive and scrumptious pastries, Mexican and otherwise, and coffee. The dumpy little dining room has become increasingly more crowded, and less dumpy, in recent years as more have discovered the considerable charms of the inexpensive breakfast and lunch spot. For just $9.99, you can get lighter-than-typical enchiladas verdes or poblano enchiladas – with a proprietor from Puebla, the mole poblano are worth ordering – or, for about the same price, the terrific stewed pork slathered in a verdant spicy salsa, asado de puerco. The breakfast tacos are not what they once were, but the other, dine-in-type morning preparations are worth a stop.  2100 Dunlavy (between Fairview and West Gray) 77019, (713) 522-2301

Laredo Taqueria – The lines running out the door of the original location on Washington of this air conditioned taco stand from about 7:30AM to 1:30PM and often beyond, are a testament to its popularity which derives in large part because of healthy-sized tacos on fresh flour tortillas that are just $3 with a range of fillings prefaced by a smear of refried beans. Three is enough for most, and four for a gluttonous meal. Never mind the occasional piece of cartilage or gristle, as these are never enough to ruin a toco. The locations on the near north side operated by other family members might be more consistent – or just less crowded – especially the one on Patton, but this location is far more convenient for most.  915 Snover (on Washington east of Shepherd), 77007 and three others north of downtown

Master Taco – Parked at Richmond and Woodhead since the spring of 2020, this noticeably friendly taco truck serves up terrific small tacos on flavorful house-made corn or flour tortillas Monday through Friday for lunch and early dinner, where, for good reason, you will usually find at least someone waiting near the intersection for their food. Those taquitos are what to order here, $2 on double corn tortillas, $2.50 for flour, though a little more for lengua and tripa – and the tender and flavorful lengua might be worth it. Beef, pastor, chicken, chicharron en salsa verde, chorizo with nopales, and carnitas round out the fillings, all worth ordering. Sopes, gorditas, quesadillas, chicharones, and the daily plates are also worth a try.  1802 Richmond (at Woodhead), (832) 654-0285

Pepper Twins – A recent lunch special for just $9.99 featuring the namesake chicken dish showed what this mini-chain does at its best: a preparation rooted in Sichuan with typically spicy and often numbing flavors, recognizably high-quality proteins, fresh vegetables, evident skill in the kitchen, and a delicious result that can be an outstanding value. The meats are much better and much more flavorful than at most local restaurants in this price range, which is easy to notice. The chicken comes from Springer Mountain, no hormone and no antibiotics, and tastier thighs are used. The beef is Certified Angus Beef. The pork is from the Berkshire breed. Currently with five locations scattered around the Houston area, there are two inside the Loop, and these might be the best of the lot. It’s more fun to eat with others here to be able enjoy several of the many enticing preparations and there are a few of the missteps on the menu, but these spots rarely fail to satisfy. This is why there are often more than a few patrons from China dining here (or picking up now).  1915 W. Gray (west of Dunlavy), 77019, (346) 204-5644 and 3915 Kirby (at the Southwest Freeway), 77098, (346) 444-6493

Roostar – Houston’s best banh mi purveyor just opened a third location, in the East End on Navigation, its first inside the Loop. Slicker than most other similar restaurants, this is banh mi 2.0 featuring excellent baguettes from Slow Dough that are a little different than the local banh mi norm, better meats including ribeye and pork cooked sous vide, and a result that’s always very satisfying. A bit more expensive than what you’ll usually find elsewhere, but the banh mi prices top out at $8.29. Eggrolls, curry-laden fries and a few other items can complement a sandwich order.  2929 Navigation (between Jensen and Sampson), 77003, (713) 636-9710

Thien An – The familiar, fairly lengthy Houston-area Vietnamese menu including spring and fried egg rolls, banh mi, rice plates, vermicelli bowls, and pho is provided here. It’s just done noticeably better than most other places, and not just budget options. The banh mi are one longtime highlight, especially for the local favorite, the char-grilled pork (all the way to $3.99 now), since the restaurant is more generous than most with the pork, which is nicely cooked, tender and richly flavorful, nestled along with the expected fresh, texture-providing accompaniments in a local-standard short Vietnamese-style baguette that is properly fresh, crusty and airy. The no-nonsense setting provides an appropriate place for a tasty and wallet-friendly meal.  2611 San Jacinto (just south of McGowen), 77004, (713) 522-7007

Uberrito – What began as Mission Burritos a couple of decades ago is down to just one location inside the Loop, but their design-it-yourself burritos on giant 13” tortillas featuring a choice among now about ten proteins or vegetables as a centerpiece are also much tastier than the similar competitors as are the “Ten Tasty Tacos” are quite tasty, too. The creamy serrano ranch, especially, or fiery green salsa applied during construction seems to help with most burritos and tacos, but the results rarely disappoint, regardless. The burritos are still large, though maybe not as protein-packed as the in past, which is probably a good thing for most of us. Still pretty cheap, too, starting at under $8, and even cheaper on Mondays when the chicken and veggie burritos are just $5. 1609 Durham (just south of I-10), 77007, (713) 426-6634

At Istanbul Grill

​I owe this project to the allure of a television commercial.  Earlier this year, KFC began running commercials touting its fried chicken sandwiches with images that looked enticing, as I was surprised to admit, and with the assertion that burger joints weren’t the places to get these, one should go to a fried chicken franchise, KFC, of course.  I was actually intrigued.
 
KFC didn’t start the trend, and once a craze, for sandwiches made with chicken breasts, breaded and deep-fried and served on hamburger buns with mayonnaise and pickles, with the option for a cayenne pepper-spiced version.  With the inspiration and competition from Chick-fil-A, in the summer of 2019 Popeye’s introduced its chicken sandwich, one spicy and one not, that caused a sensation, to the surprise of the company, along with occasional violence in the long queues at its restaurants.  The considerable success spawned versions at other restaurants across the country, fast-food spots and otherwise.  This has certainly been popular, even helping cause shortage of the chicken meat.  Whataburger now has on its website home page the warning: “Due to demand, some chicken items may not be available at this time.”
 
The spicy version was the one that resonated me.  If not quite enough to venture to a Popeye’s, or later anywhere, to check it out until nearly the summer of this year.  I avoided the hype back then.  I try not to eat much in the way of fast food.  And chicken breasts are among the very dullest of proteins.  It was tough for me to get excited about something that was centered around this. As Nashville-inspired hot chicken has spread across the country in recent years, I became more interested in the sandwich versions.
 
Unlike my quest to try every margherita pizza in Houston, for which I had some hopes for widespread quality – for which there is definitely not here, unfortunately – I knew that the bar would not be too high concerning spicy chicken sandwiches, which were conceived at fast food joints.  So, I didn’t expect a lot of disappointment.  Some indigestion, of course.
 
To note, the spicy chicken sandwich is a different animal – well, same animal – same cut of it, same breading and deep-frying and made with a spicy flavor, also, as the Buffalo chicken sandwich that’s been on some menus for a while, but different, as we all know.  Not that much different, but different enough for me.  And you, too.  Bleu cheese, with its strong-tasting difference, disqualifies a sandwich in a similar fashion, of course.
 
I really tried to try the chicken sandwiches at every place in Houston, within reason, of course.  I have to admit I missed the one from the (overly) wide-ranging menu at Woodshed in Levy Park.  The chicken fried steak I had there recently is certainly one of the worst versions in the area – and I have had about every one in town in another, possibly silly, still-ongoing artery-clogging line of investigation – so I didn’t place a lot of faith in its rendition of another deep-fried offering.  I didn’t sample the one at Jack the Box, either; Jack in the Box is really gross.
 
I tried the spicy chicken sandwiches at nearly twenty restaurants in Houston, fast-food and otherwise.  A couple of the places, Howdy Hot Chicken, a small chain from Sugar Land, and Mico’s Hot Chicken, use obviously industrially produced ultra-thick, Chernobyl Farms-style chicken breasts; too much of the very boring chicken breast and necessarily less of the fried breading per bite.  I did not enjoy these much at all.  What I found is that a thinner cut of chicken breast makes for a much tastier sandwich, one with a closer mix of the crunchy, more flavorful breading to meat.  The fast-food restaurants generally do a good job with this.  But, two drawbacks of the fast food spots are the quality of the bun, pretty much just the overly processed and ingredient-ed white bread stuff, and that the chicken might be dried out a bit; the meats aren’t cooked to order at these.  Other than that, the quality of the meat seems the same; it’s chicken breast, after all.  Whether fast-food or not, taken to go, with a fair amount of sauce and sometime some liquid-y cole slaw, these sandwiches don’t travel particularly well.
 
The best version that I found was from The Hay Merchant, which does a lot of things very well.  It’s $14 and comes with house-made potato chips.  After that was at KFC and Popeye’s, smaller in size, but $10 less, only $3.99, and these have drive-thrus.  These convenient cheapies out-performed most of the more ambitious restaurants.  Then came The Burger Joint, though it does not have a spicy version.  There are few others that are worth ordering, if not worth a detour: The Cookshack, Feges BBQ, Fuddruckers and even the oft-variable Whataburger.  If you feel the craving for a fried chicken sandwich, I recommend one of the above.  But, there is almost always better things on the menu.

The sandwich that begat the craze.

​On Fairview near Taft in the heart of Montrose, I recently drove past the quaint building that had housed Cooking Girl, the humble Sichuan restaurant that garnered local buzz, some national attention and begat the Pepper Twins restaurants, currently with five locations scattered around the Houston area.  This reminded me it had been too long since I had picked up food from Pepper Twins.  Several weeks, but too long.
 
So, the next day, I ordered lunch from the most local of the locations for me, the initial Pepper Twins on W. Gray, happy to see that the lunch specials were back available from the online ordering.  A terrific deal when avoiding a few of the missteps, with menu prices of just $9.99, you will get you a choice of almost ten entrées the comes with the requisite steamed white rice and a side of fried spring rolls or sliced cucumbers with garlic, sesame oil, and red oil.
 
I got the Pepper Twins Chicken – small chicken pieces sautéed with Sichuan peppercorns, fiery Thai chiles, strands of scallions, garlic, ginger, plentiful Sichuan peppercorns, and bits of green bell pepper – and a couple fried vegetable-filled spring rolls.  It was a excellent, as it had been before, almost incredibly so given the low price.  This dish is emblematic of what Pepper Twins does at its best: a preparation rooted in Sichuan that features typically spicy and often numbing flavors with recognizably high-quality proteins, fresh vegetables, evident skill in the kitchen, and a delicious result that can be an outstanding value.  Easy to notice with my order, the meats are much better and much more flavorful than at most area Chinese restaurants, in particular.  The chicken comes from Springer Mountain, no hormone and no antibiotics, and tastier thighs are used.  The beef is Certified Angus Beef. The pork is from the Berkshire breed. 
 
Seemingly more so than other cuisines, a meal enjoyed with others at most Chinese restaurants improves the experience, as most preparations are meant for sharing – the entrées are large – and several dishes can be sampled.  Dry-Fried Green Beans, Julienned potatoes sautéed with scallions, vinegar, and salt, Hot Diving Fish, Mongolian Beef, Ma Po Tofu, Fried Spicy Chicken Cubes, the Mountain City Hot Pot are the items that have nearly filled the tabletop when I’ve dined at Pepper Twins with my co-workers from China.  But, a meal is still usually very enjoyable when dining solo, as the other day, and during the pandemic.
 
Another benefit with Pepper Twins, again with most Chinese restaurants is that most dishes travel well, better than most places, and are usually delicious eaten at home. 
 
About the only drawback is that the restaurant like a couple of other places I like, The Breakfast Klub and Pinkerton’s, uses Menufy as its ordering software that tacks on a “Convenience Fee” of $1.50.  Maybe this is for the privilege of ordering from the restaurant.  This annoyingly ridiculous charge is a very small price to pay given the overall value and the quality.
 
Pepper Twins
Several locations
txpeppertwins.com

The aforementioned Pepper Twins Chicken

Looking through the compilation of my dining notes – writing about restaurants, you have things like this – I saw that I’ve had a Cuban sandwich just over a dozen times in the past couple of decades or so.  I never knew what the fuss was about concerning Cuban sandwiches, the warm, flattened sandwich born in Cuba featuring at least ham, cheese and mustard, as I’ve never had a really good one.  Nearly all I had eaten were from El Rey.  El Rey has a drive-thru, at least.

It wasn’t until a couple of weeks that I had my first really tasty Cuban sandwich, and it was a quite a bargain, too.  The Cuban Station is a low-volume counter-service – or window-service, actually – operation with a handful of tables located within the convenience store section of a Chevron gas station on Harrisburg, a couple of miles east of downtown.  It serves a number of sandwiches and batidos, fruit shakes, and its version of the iconic Cuban sandwich tops the menu and is what the owner is quick to recommend.

Called the Original Cuban Sandwich on the menu, it is made with Cuban-style roasted pork, slices of ham, a judicious amount of thinly sliced of Swiss cheese that’s melted, a bit of similarly thin pickle here and there, mayonnaise and evident yellow mustard on a sturdy, somewhat crusty, admirable fresh bread that’s served warm after a turn in a sandwich press.  It is delicious, with the tasty – fairly mild but flavorful – roast pork, which is used the most, setting the tone for the rest of the quality ingredients that work together for an excellent sandwich that might be in a lower-key, but very easy to want the next bite and the next until the substantial construction is no more.  At least that is how it’s been twice for me so far, and I imagine there will be more in the not-too-distant future.  I put two different flavors of Cholula on the table before eating these at home, but neither warranted a look after I started eating.  The sandwich didn’t need any help at all.  It is also quite substantial: over a foot long, 12 ½ inches, 4 ½ inches wide, and after the requisite pressing, an inch-and-a-half tall.  It is just $7.49, too, a terrific value for the size and quality.

If you like sandwiches, especially Cuban sandwiches, you owe yourself a trip here.  There will likely be a short wait, but it will be worth it, for the Original Cuban Sandwich and probably just about any other sandwich or one of the two burgers here.

​The Cuban Station
5001 Harrisburg (between Lockwood and Alt 90), 77011, (832) 272-9680

And it tastes much better than it looks.

​I used to enjoy going to Pearland.  That was a while ago, though.  Killen’s Barbecue opened late in 2013 down in Pearland and seemingly immediately became a very popular destination for barbecue lovers throughout the region for its expertly cooked brisket and beef ribs, especially.  The quality of its barbecue was about as good as anything to be found in the state, and it significantly raised the bar for Texas-style smoked meats in the Houston area.  Inspiring other pit masters and restaurateurs, Killen’s was one of the most influential restaurants to open in and around Houston in the past decade.  It provided the spark that has made the barbecue landscape here much better in the ensuing years. 

Now there are terrific barbecue options to be found in Houston proper: The Pit Room, Pinkerton’s, Truth, Feges, Blood Bros., along with Gaitlin’s and Roegel’s.  And, either The Pit Room and Pinkerton’s might serve the best brisket in the area. 

With these choices for Texas-style barbecue, there is really no need for those in Houston to trek to Pearland.

Also, Ronnie Killen opened an upscale steakhouse concept of sorts a few years ago not too far west of the Galleria, Killen’s STQ, and last year, Killen’s on Heights Boulevard near Washington, which has a regionally attuned Southern menu.  The food I’ve picked up from the newest Killen’s has been excellent in two trips – a third will likely be this week as it is now on my regular rotation for weekday lunches.  The orders so far have included a chicken fried steak that is certainly one of the best version in the city, better than what was ever served by the former occupant of Killen’s space, Hickory Hollow, which was known for the dish.   Killen’s on Heights even serves barbecue.  You don’t even have to drive to Pearland to get Killen’s barbecue these days.

​Killen’s
101 Heights (just north of Washington), 77007, (713) 637-4664
ronniekillen.com

​Read in the Chronicle today that The Ginger Man is shuttering for good, as per its owner, Rice University, which purchased the property last year.  I spent a lot of time there over the years, if much less so in the last several.  It will still be greatly missed, both for easy enjoyment it engendered with a few friends and a halfway pleasant afternoon or evening, and its contribution to the country’s beer culture.  The Ginger Man, after all, was the first beer bar in the contemporary sense.  Something like this seems so obvious, but it wasn’t when The Ginger Man started in the 1980s.
 
Below is what I penned some years ago for a gastronomic journal about it.
 
The Ginger Man in Houston
 
The nicely appointed watering hole at 11 E. 36th Street in Manhattan, not too far north of the Empire State Building, is smartly decorated and appropriately polished.  It sports an intelligent selection of beers that is resplendent with and oft-quirky Belgian labels, well-made regional and European lagers, and numerous aggressively-hopped and alcoholic domestic ales that recently styled beer aficionados are quick to champion.  It is the fitting setting for one of the nation’s best beer bars. 
 
Though it certainly seems that it could be, this location of The Ginger Man is not the one that introduced the concept of the “beer bar.”  These bars, in turn, helped to raise the interest in quality beers and abetted the growth of what were called microbreweries in the 1980s and 1990s.  That first beer bar is nearly 1,500 miles away in Houston, the very first Ginger Man (or Gingerman in deference to the great late Mr. Jackson).  In a city that is always looking forward and almost never backwards, this fact is largely unknown by most locals, even those who scribe about matters gustatory, vinous, and otherwise alcoholic.
 
“Houston has The Gingerman (5607 Morningside), one of the best beer-bars in America.”
– Pocket Guide to Beer by Michael Jackson, 1991
 
The tidy commercial developments covering about a dozen blocks a few miles southwest of downtown, collectively known as the Rice Village, is heavy with clothing stores, ethnic restaurants, and parking spaces filled mostly by very late model vehicles.  Near a cluster of bars catering to twenty-somethings, and set rather unobtrusively in a single story wood-frame house fronted by a tidy patio, The Ginger Man celebrated its quarter-century anniversary last year.  It has long been regarded as one of the top venues for the beer enthusiast in Houston or any city, for that matter.
 
It is a modest place.  Extending to the sidewalk, its inviting entrance is filled with several long picnic tables, some with umbrella, and a porch flanking the front door.  Inside, the small house is a comfy interior of several partitioned spaces and, most prominently, a long wood bar backed by 75 tap handles (there is almost double that number in bottle selections).  It’s a quick traverse to a mostly shaded back patio seating around 100 on additional long wood benches and tables.  A side wall is largely covered by a 25- by 6-foot mural of festive, plump Bavarians parading in seemingly orderly fashion into the countryside with the Alps in the distance; artwork that once graced the side of a Paulaner beer truck.
 
Unpretentious, relaxed and long sought out by beer lovers, and anyone interested in a conversation-heavy entertainment in the area, it has remained popular since fairly soon after inception.  That it is in Houston is surprising.  Its early road to long-term popularity is even more surprising.
 
According to founder Bob Precious, it was good luck rather than planning that was responsible for its direction and the success.  The Ginger Man’s predecessor was a scruffy neighborhood bar with the rather unfortunate name of Chuggers.  He was then a bartender at the English-themed Red Lion on Main Street, a once long-standing Houston favorite about a mile away.  After finishing a shift, he would often stop in to wind down with their “50¢ Heinekens.”  The owner, “an old Texas gal…took a shine to me,” he explained, and eventually, after spending many nights there on a barstool, “gave me the keys to the bar…because she couldn't stand being in the joint another day.”  Precious was thirty-three at the time with a wife and child and a second on the way living in a small garage apartment.  Though he might not have believed he “needed another opportunity to demonstrate how talented I was at screwing things up,” he decided to make a go of it, accepting the keys and assuming the lease.
 
That serendipitous event was in 1985.  Chuggers was a beer bar, though definitely not one in the current sense.  In addition to the Heineken stocked for him, “Chuggers had two drafts, Bud and Miller Lite, and a selection of can beers, four or five, and Pearl, in all its glory, in a bottle.”  Precious decided that J.P. Donleavy’s comic first novel, whose protagonist was a drunken lout, would make a more appropriate name than Chuggers.  This would pay dividends the next year.
 
1985 was well before the gentrification of the area.  The bar was at the edge of a forlorn retail district.  Across the street were broad expanses of usually empty asphalt parking.  A block across the parking from its entrance was a rather uninviting adult theater nearly adjacent to a rundown toy store.  But, Precious had the good fortune that his neighbor immediately next door was Scott Birdwell’s full-service home-brew shop, DeFalco’s, the heart of Houston’s homebrew universe.  It was there he received a tutorial about beer.  “I didn't have any customers for the first year, I had lots of time to talk with him and get acquainted with this thing called beer.”  That relationship led to an invitation on Birdwell’s suggestion to famed British beer writer Michael Jackson.
 
“He was just about to cancel the rest of his Texas dates as there had been zero interest or respect for what he was doing at the time, but said he would give The Ginger Man a shot because he liked the book.  It was a big night, and it really changed everything.  After that I went nuts on the beer, turned the kitchen into a walk-in cooler and had about twenty beers in no time.”
 
At that time, another local bar, The Richmond Arms west of the Galleria, was broadly similar, but it was British.  The Ginger Man was consciously American in feel and attitude, and served a global variety of the some of the best beers that might make it to this country.  The number imported then was a fraction of what it is today.  This was also a time when about the only really interesting American beers to be found in Houston were from Anchor and Sierra Nevada.  Sam Adams had just started in Boston that year.  There was not even a decent beer brewed in the entire state of Texas.  All of this was reflected in the number of taps, which were a third of what they would become.  Those two dozen taps were pouring mostly British and German beers “and a great pint of Guinness that flowed from and old yellow refrigerator in the back room with a shank poked through the door.”
 
This different new bar generated interest from the father of the nascent microbrewery movement:
 
“Fritz Maytag sent four of his top guys over from Anchor Brewing in San Francisco with, for the first time anywhere, all of the beer he was making on draught (five types). They hung out for days and became part of the scene… and when they returned to San Francisco we heard that they told anyone who would listen that there was something going on down in Houston that was new and probably a little insane.”
 
The Ginger Man in 1986 was then something truly unique in this country.  “We had about 25 taps by mid '86.  Better beer history minds than mine tell me that would make it the first in the country, if not the world,” Precious recounts.  It matured quickly from there, adding taps and labels.  “I went to Belgium and got into that weird ale world… And, of course to Germany, and to London to visit Michael [Jackson].  So things that we were doing by the end of '87 were very new and fresh, but we had a definite purpose and trajectory at this point.”
 
At the time, the country’s most famous bar dedicated to beer was probably the Brickskeller in Washington, DC.  It had been around since the 1950s and featured hundreds of beers.  Their beers were still nearly all in bottles and cans even in 1987.  It was a rarity, also.  There was the Peculier Pub in Manhattan.  Across the country, Seattle had the Irish-tempered Murphy’s and before the end of that year, the Latona Pub.  Father’s Office in Santa Monica was also lauded by Michael Jackson a few years later.  But, it and the others were laggards to The Ginger Man when it came to pulling numerous drafts.
 
Even before the wide selection of interesting beers, Precious had the knack for creating an inviting atmosphere.  “I do remember thinking I'd died and gone to heaven when I found the Ginger Man one Saturday afternoon,” reminisced Bill Marchbank, a British transplant to Houston, who missed his native pub culture, about his first visit in the mid-1980s.  Though quality beer has been key to its success, attracting discriminating beer fans since the start, it’s been more than that.
 
Though most of its seating is outdoors, in Houston, which suffers from at least four months of subtropical summers, The Ginger Man is somehow very comfortable.   That a good part of it is outside, its casualness and intentionally low-key nature are necessarily reinforcing.  The back patio works as a beer garden that seems properly Houstonian, ephemeral and diverse, rather than German, the prominent artwork notwithstanding.  The crowd is usually mature and well-behaved, and mostly professional that can “get crazy, but not too crazy.”  Warren Jones, a business consultant, has been a regular since moving to Houston in 1992, “when the only Range Rovers you'd see in the neighborhood were likely driven by Englishmen who were inside drinking.” Explaining the draw, “what brings me back now is the same thing that brought me back the first time; it's a unique, comfortable, friendly place.”  Located a few blocks from Rice University, however, its students have never been that big of presence.  More so has been the nearby Texas Medical Center and its thousands of employees.  A soused and stumbling doctor in scrubs is not an unknown sight, though thankfully rare.  The Ginger Man has long been a place to enjoy a well-made beer and banter inspired or slurred, or both, during the course of a visit.
 
When the summer air is thick and hot, the large fans in the very back churn furiously, its outdoor tables are filled with tall glasses of hazy yellowish beer with a slice of lemon perched at the lip or lazing at the bottom of the glass.  The Ginger Man has arguably done more than any place in the country to popularize wheat beer; Houston’s heat and humidity pairs perfectly with it.  Though the Bavarian versions predominant now, the Flemish style white beer from Celis found a special home on its patios during the 1990s when it was brewed in Austin.  The other Celis beers were also quite popular.  This was helped, in part, by the bar’s creation of the Cruberry.  This is an overly-easy-to-consume beer cocktail featured a splash of refreshingly sweet Celis Raspberry on a base of deceptively alcoholic Celis Grand Cru.  It spelled a quick evening for many patrons.
 
The Ginger Man has done brisk business for two-and-a-half decades, but this first-of-a-breed is in Houston is still a little odd.  Though the city is the country’s fourth largest, and one with a large foreign-born population including a good number of pub-ready ex-pat English and Scots brought by the energy industry, Houston has lagged behind other areas in terms of developing as robust a beer culture like Portland or Denver.  What The Ginger Man helped start could not really be built upon.  Restrictive state distribution and labeling laws that have both stifled the growth of brewpubs and small breweries and have limited the range of beers to be found locally.
 
The Ginger Man concept certainly was one that worked.  The foresight of founder Bob Precious, unquestionably much more than luck, is remarkable.  Each of the half-dozen bars he has started is still in business.  Even the ones he has inspired, too.  His next venture after The Ginger Man was another unfussy beer bar, The Brewery Tap in 1987, which resides in part of what was the expansive Magnolia Brewery that once spanned across the Buffalo Bayou in downtown Houston.  Then came The Volcano, or more properly, Under the Volcano, focusing more on cocktails, but, like The Ginger Man, was named after another well-known work of literature featuring a booze-laden protagonist.  The Ginger Man concept itself was successfully transported to Dallas in 1992 and then Austin in 1994.  In 1996, following Precious’ move back home to the New York area, a more upscale and Belgian-focused version of The Ginger Man opened in a lonely section of Midtown Manhattan.  It too, has been a huge success, “the only reason to visit the no-man’s land between Murray Hill and Koreatown,” according to New York magazine.  In the late 1990s, former employees, brothers Steve and Chris Black, using The Ginger Man as a model, opened The Falling Rock Tap House in Denver, the best beer bar in the Mountain Time Zone.
 
As the Manhattan location necessitated much of Precious’ attention, he decided to sell the Texas branches in 2000 to owners who aptly carry on the rich tradition.  These pubs have not skipped a beat, remaining true to tone set by the original.  They have since added similar bars in Fort Worth, and the Dallas suburb of Plano.  Precious’ longtime colleague opened ones in Connecticut in Greenwich and Norwalk.
 
In the second decade of the second millennium, The Ginger Man rolls on, feeling both fresh and even slightly historical (though thankfully without the aroma of soured beer).  It’s still one of the best beer bars in America, in Houston and elsewhere.
 
The Ginger Man
5607 Morningside, Houston, Texas 77005
(713) 526-2770
gingermanpub.com

​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 pizzas 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

​Italian cuisine encompasses a lot of things, but pasta might be the most emblematic.  In a recent issue of the Italian Gambero Rosso electronic magazine, Cristina Bowerman, the Michelin-starred chef of Glass Hosteria in Rome’s Trastevere neighborhood answers the question of what Italian cuisine is to her with: “…if there is a characterizing trait, I think of pasta, in particular dry pasta…And in cooking, in the texture and sensitivity with which we handle the pasta we distinguish ourselves, it defines us.”  The product is not the freshly made soft pasta that many restaurants tout, but the commercial product you can purchase in the supermarket.
 
Despite her non-Italian surname, Bowerman is a native of Puglia in southwestern Italy.  She lived over a decade in the U.S., in California and Austin, Texas; her English faculty, in addition to her restaurant prominence and knowledge, has made her a frequent presence on American food shows on Italy in recent years.
 
In somewhat of a corollary to her assertion, dry pasta is both the Italian item that is most cooked by Americans and resonates most as Italian.  Of course, the way we cook pasta in America is different than is done in Italy, usually with exuberance, fewer or no rules, and typically much more sauce.  Pasta can be delicious in Italian, or not.

​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.

​A few months ago I came across a quote in the Wall Street Journal from a well-regarded chef and restaurateur Douglass Williams of MIDA in South Boston: "No other food appeals to as many people, as easily, as Italian. It doesn't matter where you're from, when you sit down to pizza or pasta, you get it." 
 
There is a lot of truth to that, and the sentiment probably applies to diners in most of the world.  Italian is popular.  Italian-themed food, whether or not it is tethered closely to Italy, is seemingly more approachable – and maybe enjoyable – than other cuisines.  Pizza has been part of nearly all this country’s dining habits for decades and pasta even longer.  Plus, the inevitable splash of tomato sauce or the greasy fingers from the pizza helps ensure that many of the dining experiences are fun, appealing, or at least can’t be taken to seriously.

Probably the best ravioli dish I've ever had, in Parma.