The Lone Star Bazaar: Mouth First

Last Saturday I went to The Lone Star Bazaar, a local vendor centric affair held once a month or so in the parking lot of Numbers. It being Houston, of course there has to be good food there as well, and there was more than I could handle. Boogie had his boudain balls and BBQ pits in full gear, smoking his highly sought meats throughout the day. It smelled insanely good but I wanted to try something new and lighter, as I'd only had coffee so far that day.

On the way in to look at the art for sale, I saw a table with four massive glass vitroleros, those huge glass jars typical of aqua frescas, each filled with beautiful hues—brilliant chartreuse, a milky opaque lavender, deep fuchsia, a pale peach, also opaque—the 'love-waters.' The kind lady who made them allowed me to sample a few, and while the lavender-blueberry-oatmeal(!), was spicy like chai and delicious, I really liked the next one I tried, coconut-peach-lime. B'zam. I was drinking a tropical party on a bright winter day in Houston. I don't jump for coconut, but the lime was taking the lead and the peach and coconut were the perfect wing-fruits—soft enough to make the lime look strong, but still gentle, a lover. Hence...'love-water.' See what I did there? Yes, it's $6 for 16oz, but really, how much did you spend on cocktails last night, hmm? This is good for you, so pay up and drink up. You're worth it.

While I was sipping on liquid Tahiti, someone walked by with a strange, but good-looking taco in a paper boat. They saw me staring and offered, "It's a fried-avocado taco from the (Houston StReats food truck). Stop watching me eat. Please. Please?" I wanted to see their reaction to the flavor before I made up my mind. Do some people not like that? They turned away, but from behind, their body language clearly dictated that I should get that taco, but the menu on the side of the truck made it a little harder to stick with that decision. The steak nachos and truffle-Parmesan fries beckoned. Yet that taco...and you should always go with your first instinct, right? Oh hell. I ordered all of them. There were plenty of people around I didn't mind sharing with and I dropped $12 for the entire order.

The food came out quick and I put away half the taco before I even really looked at it (I had already seen it...) so I didn't get a good shot of it. Oops. I did see that the batter coating the big wedges of avocado was not your average batter. It was awesome, thick, seemingly flecked with flaxseed here and there...nice and brown in flavor, super crunchy but not greasy. And then it was gone.

The beef on the steak nachos was marinated so pro, and the chips were obviously in-house corn tortilla chips, the kind that are thick and get those nice little brown edges that bring out the corn in the corn chips. So good.

The fries were so hot and cheesy and truffled out that they nearly put me to sleep, heady stuff for breakfast. Okay, so it might have been a combination of the meal that gave that effect. But then I remembered there were pretty things for me to shop for, so I got up and shopped. It was a very productive day, indeed. And yes, I shared. But I did have a guard at the table (see elbow in above picture) to ward off food-snatchers until I had a chance to try each and get a photo. See why? One even brought a to-go box for his convenience. Always be prepared.

Cali Sandwich & Fast Food

Downtown Houston is known for its upscale restaurants, but it's even better known for the multitude of cheap Vietnamese dining available day and night. While Les Givral's on Milam is the most popular sandwich stop, Cali's is just around the corner and it's always nice to try something different, even if it seems pretty much the same—their menus are very similar. And if you thought Les Givral's had cheap banh mi (starting at $2.50), Cali's competitively prices theirs starting at $2.31. Yes. $2.31. So while it's an amazing deal, it's not the best place to take someone on a first date, lest you wind up looking cheap. However, you could just buy a round of banh mi for everyone there and look baller. (Still, it probably wouldn't add up to $20...)

The menu lineup features the usual suspects, ranging from rice and noodle plates to banh mi on soft French baguettes. You can order at the counter or sit down for service, and there are several fruit smoothies ranging from mango to jackfruit (we tried both, of course). While green jackfruit is used as a savory ingredient, ripe jackfruit has a vaguely familiar flavor akin to a cross between banana, figs, and maybe a hint of sweet pineapple. 

I've been eating a lot less meat as of late and sprung for the tofu banh mi with an egg and didn't miss my usual grilled chicken version in the least. Not going to lie...the tofu was still tofu, and if you know me, you know my feelings about tofu. I'm trying SO HARD to like it. This was good, but not something I'd eat without a bunch of other delicious things surrounding it, like yolky eggs, cilantro, jalapeno, and grilled onions. 

The kids had beef and chicken banh mi with an egg and didn't hesitate to polish off all of their food, spring rolls, and a fruit smoothie. (The mango was the best!) In all, we had 4 spring rolls, 4 sandwiches, and 3 smoothies for a grand total of $30. We could have saved $5 and skipped the spring rolls, but our eyes were 'bigger than our stomachs' and we over-ordered. Nothing a to-go box won't fix, right? 

Cali Sandwich & Fast Food

2704 Milam St.

Houston, TX 77006

Sacred Salad: Escondida Trattoria, Pisac, Peru

I recently returned from a brief hiatus to a little town in Peru called Pisac, located in Cuzco, at the entrance to the Sacred Valley. While there, I was to participate in a retreat that included a 7-day fast and an ayahuasca ceremony, so certain foods were restricted from the menu, especially those containing meat, tyramine, and excess salt. This was my last meal before the fast began the next day, so of course I had to write about it. 

Chef Tim runs Trattoria Escondida, the most remote restaurant I've ever visited, and it was quite a surprise to see a fully functioning Italian trattoria operating as any other would, only the location was built into into the base of a mountain in a small village, its customers mostly travelers on a spiritual quest of some sort. 

The menu was decided each day based on what the chef found at the local market. The day we arrived, we saw him walking down the path on his return from 'town' carrying a white sack which he proudly opened for us to show its contents- local mushrooms freshly procured from some happy little field within walking distance- though it might have been a longer walk than most of us are used to...the market in Pisac is Peru's largest indigenous gathering of locals from the surrounding villages offering their dizzying selection of fruits, vegetables, meats, potatoes, breads, herbs, spices, and of course the usual tourist-centric doodads for those just passing through. 

The salad you see above was not just any salad. It was the happiest salad I've ever had, happy to be eaten by someone who was happy to eat it. Sounds cheesy, but it's true! Those carrots...smaller than my pinky finger, but the biggest, most nutritiously enhanced flavor a carrot could hope to muster. The tomatoes, smaller than a nickel, finally clarified to me the meaning of 'umami.' They were as satisfying as little bites of filet mignon, showcasing the earthy, almost salty, minerals of the local soil. The baby greens each had their own personality, texture, flavor, history, and were as enjoyable to eat as a good conversation with good friends is enjoyed.

My friend Lucy, the Louise to my Thelma experience, opted for the eggplant parmesan—just look at it! You can see how delicious it was. Luckily, she didn't make me just look at it, and I can still recall the crisp barrier between supple eggplant flesh and the pesto and cheese topping, the homemade pasta, all so warm and full of the valley's richness.  

I had the homemade spinach cannelloni because it featured the mushrooms we'd been introduced to earlier in the day. The sauce was simple yet vibrant—tomatoes and basil—and didn't overshadow the delicate flavors of the more subtle ingredients. Yes, I shared with Lucy, and she agreed that it was super-tasty. We passed our plates back and forth, doing our best to clean them, but sadly, there were a few bites left. I wish I had them now...

So if you're ever in the Sacred Valley in Pisac Peru, with a little luck, you'll find a great meal here. The days and hours of operation vary as does the menu. The scenery of the valley is a feast for all of your senses, and Escondida Trattoria does a wonderful job in bringing it all together on your plate. 

Texas Gold

Sugarcane Dr Pepper. Singles sold cold at Picnic on Bissonnet

Complicated Woman? Maybe.

But simple needs. Late night snack of a Zin and turkey sausage dog. Mustard or die.

A Rum for your Whiskey

As we grow older, Christmas often loses its spark-- it turns from a time of looking forward to presents and tons of food and crazy relatives, to a time of looking forward to when the presents and the food and the crazy relatives are long gone. In order to preserve that joyous occasion, my husband and I started a new tradition where we get to enjoy Christmas once more- Christmas Eve at least, when we invite all of our best friends into our home to eat and drink and be me-he-he-rry.

The first year, the cops were called because we were being too merry and my husband and his fellow musician friends were jingling the rocks a little too loudly. The weather was cold and rainy, but it was no match for the warmth of the whiskey cider I had brewing in a crockpot where friends would inevitably top off steaming fragrant cups with a touch more whiskey. 

The cider was very popular at the party and I knew I would make it again, but I wanted to find another warm drink to serve should Houston be granted with weather calling for another hand-warmer. Possibly something with chocolate...

Long story short, I came across a bottle of Ron Brugal's 1888 Ron Gran Reserva Familiar. It's tasting notes sounded like something any 'gentle' whiskey or Scotch lover would appreciate. By gentle I mean it doesn't taste smoky, overly oaked or too mature. Double aged in American Oak followed by Spanish Sherry barrels, the first taste of this rum told me that it would be a shame to hide any of its character by using it with any mixer. Not even ice was necessary to enjoy this smooth sipping rum- a rare treat! In fact, I kept this baby in the reserves for myself and a few friends who I knew would appreciate the 1888's company. It opened this whiskey lover's eyes to the possibilites a good rum can offer and now ranks as one of my favorite spirits served neat. 

In the end, the whiskey cider sufficed at this year's holiday party; the 1888 was long gone by then anyhow. 

To New Orleans, From Houston: Good game.

When Spring Break rolled around this year, my grandparents surprised my husband and I by stealing our kids off to Disney World, leaving us a week to indulge in the quiet company of each other. Instead, I decided to bolt to New Orleans with three girlfriends. After all, it's not everyday that you find a classy hotel with a rooftop hot tub available just far enough away from Bourbon Street to get away from the noise and crowds, yet close enough to walk to Cafe Du Monde for beignets and café au lait at 3am and to Brother's Food Mart on the way back for a few paper boat of fried chicken and french fries. (Ridiculous, I know; and I couldn't care less!)

The two requests that we had of our hotel was that it should be located where four rather young ladies would be safe walking back from our evening adventures and that it had to have a hot tub. I went a little crazy searching for the perfect location on Trip Advisor...I looked at e.v.e.r.y listing in NOLA including the B&Bs and guest houses. I even used Google's aerial view to seek out visible pools and spas. I'm a very thorough researcher! I hovered over a promising blue square near Canal Street and zoomed in. Location was the ultimate deciding factor and the Omni Royal Crescent on Gravier Street couldn't be beat, for it held a rooftop hot tub.

Being from Houston, I had some really high expectations of New Orleans cuisine. I thought I would be stumbling over boudain and po-boys all day and night. I will cut to the chase and say that from my experience, which was only three days long and very centralized in the Quarter and nearby areas, Houston still wins. For variety, cost, and convenience, H-town has it on the lock down, IMHO. Both cities lack in the late night eats department. But we did get ahold of some very tasty grub in some unexpected places that definitely granted NOLA bonus points.

The Grocery- 2854 Saint Charles Ave, New Orleans

We decided to ride the trolley just for kicks and go take a picture of our friend's home, though she lives in California and sublets the place to someone we don't know. After that we walked over to the Lafayette Cemetery. It was beautiful and majestic in an old world kind of way that you don't see often in newer cities like Houston that do little to preserve such sites. We were already hungry but wanted to see this hallowed ground first. It was a quick visit as our stomachs soon rushed us back out the gates.

We went looking for somewhere to eat and stumbled upon a corner deli called The Grocery. There were a couple of little tables and chairs out front and it was a beautiful day so we went in to order a patio lunch. I got to talking to the owner, Marcy, a young woman in her late twenties and it took a moment to notice she was working hard to speak clearly, and when she shook my hand, it was with her left. She turned her right hand over to show me it wasn't quite ready to work the way it used to.

"I had a stroke. From alcohol. Four years ago." She spoke slow and clear to be sure that I heard her. "Tell them that." Her message was clear- she had faced death at a very young age and wants her story to be told as a warning to others.

She struggled through rehabilitation therapy and it seems that she focused so hard on her goals that they had no choice but to materialize. And her food- excellent. While I toot my horn about Houston's food scene, we are direly lacking in the sandwich department. The chicken salad po-boy I ordered was perfect- not sweet, not too creamy, dotted with pecans and the chicken was obviously made on site as it had that home-cooked texture and flavor. We tried the BLT and the BBQ po-boy too and both were awesome. They have a great selection of local beer too. The Grocery is just off the Trolley at 6th and St. Charles. It's a very happy place thanks to Marcy's spirit and the friendly staff.

Fiorella's Italian Cafe- 45 French Market Place, New Orleans

For some reason it was hard to find food in the Quarter after 9pm on a Tuesday night. I guess I had the impression that the Quarter never sleeps but what do I know? It took me 30 years to get to NOLA so I really didn't know what to expect. We walked all over looking for somewhere to eat that didn't require reservations, wasn't strictly bar food, and was within a decent price range. I refused to eat at the seedy little Chinese restaurant that we kept passing- I was in New Orleans dammit! I was going to eat good!

We had walked past a little spot called Fiorella's, an Italian cafe and bar, and decided that would be our best bet. I wasn't quite in the mood for pasta but we were all starting to picture each other on a skewer with a side of drawn butter and I'm the worst about getting snarly when I'm hungry. So we grabbed a table and looked over the menu. I checked Yelp to see what people said to try at Fiorella's and for some odd reason every review was of someone proclaiming the greatness of this Italian bar's fried chicken. I'm not kidding. Check it out yourself.

I hesitated and then ordered the fried chicken, from the Irish bartender who challenged that I couldn't finish it all. Fried chicken. Irish bartender. At an Italian bar. In Creole country. It was sounding more like Houston by the minute. No one ordered pasta- everyone got fried chicken. It was the most ridiculous thing I've ever put into my face. I had to use both hand to lift a single breast and the juicy flavor explosion nearly knocked my hungry ass out. It was amazing. Needless to say a few primary colored drinks and an hour later we were stuck with four heavy leftover pieces that I nibbled on later and brought home the next day as a souvenir for a friend. I owed him one. Sorry for the bad photo- I just took one and dug in. But you can see how one piece towers over the salt shaker, dwarfing the bowl of mashed potatoes (I don't even remember how they were, poor things.) It turns out the cooks were a bunch of college boys. They are going to make some women fat and happy someday.

Johnny's Po-Boys- 511 St. Louis Street, New Orleans

I don't think I've ever stood in a line as long as the one that snaked out and across the street from Johnny's Po-Boys on St. Louis St. I had been told I had to try it. It wasn't Johnny's fault that I wasn't as impressed as I had hoped. It took close to two hours to get the first bite in my mouth and by then snarlies were upon me. The people were nice and the food was good, but not two hour good. We had shrimp po-boys and gumbo. The shrimp was good, but a thick blanket of shredded lettuce hindered the encounter.

We walked with our food to sit by the river so I fed the grass the lettuce, doused the sandwich with our travel Cholula, and chowed down. It was good. I will say that. An hour an a half before that it would have been damn good. The gumbo was bland and had cooled down too much so that it was overly gelatinous. My Lebanese husband makes a mean, painful gumbo that I favor, with every sea creature imaginable so it's hard to contend with that. Oh well. That's what I get for falling into a tourist trap.

3am eats in NOLA

Of course we had to go to Cafe du Monde but the line during the day is laughably long. Who the hell waits that long in a line for some fried dough? When we found out it was open 24 hours a day, we planned a late night return instead.

It turned out that at 3am, there is no line, but the cafe au lait is still hot and the beignets are still made to order. And it's cash only, at that hour at least. Maybe it was because we went the Sunday after Mardi Gras, but New Orleans was sleeping and we were drinking coffee, ready for fun. A few bars were open and we made one last stop before running, yes running, back to the hotel. But just as we crossed Canal Street, a delicious aroma beckoned us into a massive all night corner store called Brother's, where we found ourselves ordering a paper basket of fried chicken and steak fries. Houston. We have a problem. Where is my 4am fried chicken option ?

Bars to check out:

The first night we skipped the whole yard-long drink from cheesy-Nola-Bar-X and headed for where the locals hang out on Frenchman's Street. It was a Sunday night so not a lot was happening though there were a few bars with food and live music. It was chill, which was what we were after.

Don't miss:

Lafitte's Blacksmith Shop- the oldest bar in New Orleans. It's dark and mellow and the clientele is a hazy flux of tourist with a few friendly locals mixed in. On occasion a tour comes through, as the bar is reputed to be haunted. Great whiskey selection- don't order a Long Island or anything colored in this refuge. Please.

Pravda Bar- Another chill bar on Decatur with a great dusky atmosphere and a cute little turtle in a pond out back that likes to terrorize the goldfish.

Fiorella's fried chicken. It's ridiculous.