Saturday, May 29, 2004
Fireflies
First there was the Cottonwood fascination. Now that pillow fight season has sadly passed, Texas has again offered up a new surprise: Lightning bugs. Fireflies. Whatever they're called, I had no idea these little flare guns actually existed until I lost my way and ended up here. One got trapped in the house once and in a misguided attempt to do some mating it started flashing his assets around our dining room (or dining area, as it could more fittingly be called). Isabella went nuts and aimed straight for its jugular (and a shelf full of champagne flutes) but, although they seem drunkenly slow, this one managed to escape harm and return to its singles bar on the patio in short order. In fact, those luminescent little devils' only purpose seems to be to procreate, and fly around slowly enough for little kids to catch 'em in jars for further observation. I mean, I've definitely never seen a dead lightning bug. I'm not sure exactly what it is yet, but there is a lesson to be learned from that.
La Duni
Fantastic. Finally a place that lives up to its recommendations. On McKinney, about a block north of Knox, La Duni is apparently a very hip place to be on a Friday night. Getting there just before 7, however, there was no wait for a meal. Just that certain sense of inferiority that you get when your car gets valet parked just after a lexus suv and just before an audi. Among the patrons were four "sex in the city"esque females, sporting pashminas draped over their shoulders despite the eighty five degrees waiting for them outside. Among those lucky enough to snatch a patio table was Michael Bolton and a female guest. At least I think it was him. But come to think of it, this guy's hair was kind of reddish, whereas Michael Bolton's hair does not currently exist.
But, by taking advantage of the early bird dinner hour, usually reserved for senior citizens and lame-o's, we were given an inside table immediately upon entering and loaded up pretty quickly with some very potent drinks. A mojito for me and a caipirhina for my mint-hating cohort. Accompanying our beverages was some of the finest salsa this side of Encinitas, with some generic but necessary chips.
I wouldn't say that La Duni has Mexican food. They call themselves a Latin bistro, but I wouldn't say that La Duni has Latin food, either (mostly because of my distaste for the ubiquity of the word "Latin". It has some identifiably Cuban fare with a little bit of Venezuelan or some other South American flavor thrown in. Think of plantains, think of mint. Think of pork, here we go. We had some sort of appetizer. It was lovely; plaintains filled with spicy shredded pork and black beans and topped with some kind of cheese. I had tacos al something and Manimal had quesadillas al something with mahi mahi. The only poor planning on the part of the restaurant was making the food so unpronounceable that nobody can possibly spread the word to anyone else about anything except the desserts (highly pronounceable and sooo good). So I guess I'll just tell you about those:
I had the Cuatro Leches cake and this is the superstar for which La Duni is famous. The price is a bit stiff, but who the hell cares? It's manteca cake (which I'm pretty sure means butter cake, so right away you know: nice) soaked in tres leches sauce and topped with cuatro leches sauce and a leche meringue whipped cream hybrid. That makes a startling total of ocho leches. So you're getting twice as many leches as you're paying for! Then it has a drizzle of caramel which makes this a dessert that you don't so much taste in your mouth as you do feel in your loins. Their other desserts look comparable but why on earth would anyone go through the trouble of ordering anything else? Stick with a sure thing. (On a sidenote, that is also the name of my new bestselling self-help book. "Stick with a sure thing: how to settle for second best and keep the status quo humming along nicely")
The service at La Duni was much spicier than the food. I'm pretty sure I must have inadvertantly slept with our waitress's boyfriend because damn, she was spitting fireballs at me all night. Not to mention all the inappropriate touching that she administered on my dinner mate. Did I care? Not with cake in front of me.
Thesis statement: Do not mess with a Cuban woman unless 8 milks are on the line.
But, by taking advantage of the early bird dinner hour, usually reserved for senior citizens and lame-o's, we were given an inside table immediately upon entering and loaded up pretty quickly with some very potent drinks. A mojito for me and a caipirhina for my mint-hating cohort. Accompanying our beverages was some of the finest salsa this side of Encinitas, with some generic but necessary chips.
I wouldn't say that La Duni has Mexican food. They call themselves a Latin bistro, but I wouldn't say that La Duni has Latin food, either (mostly because of my distaste for the ubiquity of the word "Latin". It has some identifiably Cuban fare with a little bit of Venezuelan or some other South American flavor thrown in. Think of plantains, think of mint. Think of pork, here we go. We had some sort of appetizer. It was lovely; plaintains filled with spicy shredded pork and black beans and topped with some kind of cheese. I had tacos al something and Manimal had quesadillas al something with mahi mahi. The only poor planning on the part of the restaurant was making the food so unpronounceable that nobody can possibly spread the word to anyone else about anything except the desserts (highly pronounceable and sooo good). So I guess I'll just tell you about those:
I had the Cuatro Leches cake and this is the superstar for which La Duni is famous. The price is a bit stiff, but who the hell cares? It's manteca cake (which I'm pretty sure means butter cake, so right away you know: nice) soaked in tres leches sauce and topped with cuatro leches sauce and a leche meringue whipped cream hybrid. That makes a startling total of ocho leches. So you're getting twice as many leches as you're paying for! Then it has a drizzle of caramel which makes this a dessert that you don't so much taste in your mouth as you do feel in your loins. Their other desserts look comparable but why on earth would anyone go through the trouble of ordering anything else? Stick with a sure thing. (On a sidenote, that is also the name of my new bestselling self-help book. "Stick with a sure thing: how to settle for second best and keep the status quo humming along nicely")
The service at La Duni was much spicier than the food. I'm pretty sure I must have inadvertantly slept with our waitress's boyfriend because damn, she was spitting fireballs at me all night. Not to mention all the inappropriate touching that she administered on my dinner mate. Did I care? Not with cake in front of me.
Thesis statement: Do not mess with a Cuban woman unless 8 milks are on the line.
Saturday, May 22, 2004
Two Rows
I would like very much to say that I enjoyed this place. It was very late last night when we ate here and I was starving so I think that even Chick Fil-A would have seemed gourmet, but even still...
Two Rows is in Plano somewhere, near the tollway. Plano is pretty much all the same so I think if you went to any corner near the tollway, you would find it, or an equivalent eatery no problem. The best way for me to capture the experience is by taking you on a virtual tour. So, close your eyes for a moment. Oh shit, now how am I going to get you to open them. I hope you have one of those automated voice computers that blind people use to instant message....I really should have thought this virtual tour through before giving a command like that. Well, for those of you who lost patience and opened your eyes by now, I apologize. Don't close your eyes anymore.
Just picture TGI Friday's. Or, even better, go to their website and print out a picture. (I refuse, for ethical reasons, to include a link here) Scratch out the name of the restaurant and write Two Rows. BLAM! You've got a primo image without even having to utilize your poor overworked imagination.
The main draw of this place though, the thing that makes it worth driving 30 minutes to dine in, is its perplexing array of soups. They have a grand total of 2 soups: Taco Soup and Tortilla Soup. When I am able to discern between these two soups, even whilst enjoying them simultaneously, then and only then will my soul feel peace.
Auxiliary draw: They brew their own beer. The huge brewing tank, or "brank" if you would be so kind, sits out front like a water tower, promising refreshment and hops to all who enter.
Thesis Statement: At least Chick Fil-A has waffle fries.
Two Rows is in Plano somewhere, near the tollway. Plano is pretty much all the same so I think if you went to any corner near the tollway, you would find it, or an equivalent eatery no problem. The best way for me to capture the experience is by taking you on a virtual tour. So, close your eyes for a moment. Oh shit, now how am I going to get you to open them. I hope you have one of those automated voice computers that blind people use to instant message....I really should have thought this virtual tour through before giving a command like that. Well, for those of you who lost patience and opened your eyes by now, I apologize. Don't close your eyes anymore.
Just picture TGI Friday's. Or, even better, go to their website and print out a picture. (I refuse, for ethical reasons, to include a link here) Scratch out the name of the restaurant and write Two Rows. BLAM! You've got a primo image without even having to utilize your poor overworked imagination.
The main draw of this place though, the thing that makes it worth driving 30 minutes to dine in, is its perplexing array of soups. They have a grand total of 2 soups: Taco Soup and Tortilla Soup. When I am able to discern between these two soups, even whilst enjoying them simultaneously, then and only then will my soul feel peace.
Auxiliary draw: They brew their own beer. The huge brewing tank, or "brank" if you would be so kind, sits out front like a water tower, promising refreshment and hops to all who enter.
Thesis Statement: At least Chick Fil-A has waffle fries.
Saturday, May 08, 2004
Freebirds
I've been meaning to have an opinion on Freebird's World Burrito for quite some time now, but I think I'm just now getting around to it. I mean, it ain't no Rico's, that much I know.
I can't tell if I like Freebirds and their anti-corporate corporation, their hippy/redneck flavor, or if my DT's due to lack of guacamole are just making me think that I do. Either way, I go. I order my half bird with steak. I pay extra for guacamole. I pay $5.25 (pre-guacamole tax) for what passes as a meal. It beats paying nearly ten bucks for a monster, a tortilla piled so high with crap that it takes the fat man who orders it four bites just to penetrate the foil wrapping.
I go and I eat and I'm vaguely certain that I enjoy it. It's just that I've been to one location in Austin, one in Dallas (on Greenville Ave. and Lovers Ln.), and one in College Station (if ever a city could be categorized as a "total fucking mindfuck, bro") and each location is exactly the same as the next, from the half brick, half cement walls, to the foil sculptures left on the bricks by customers, to the giant Statue of Liberty on a Harley holding a burrito instead of a torch. I mean, if I had just gone to one, I might have been fooled into thinking it was unique, a novel place, where college kids can rediscover what tortilla-wrapped edibles should be.
But I didn't stop at one. Nay, I got hooked on their backwards F logo. I saw it, high on a shopping center marquee and I salivated. I imbibed again and again, until resistance was futile; I was no longer a consumer, but a puppet, controlled by a half-bird with no cheese. So do I still go to Freebird's? Of course. Do I enjoy it? maybe. But do I choose to eat their burritos? Quite the contrary. The burritos chose me.
(Wow. Pot really DOES affect yer brain.)
Also, if you're still interested, you can order your Birds online! They'll be waiting for you ten minutes later at your favorite location. Bitchin'.
I can't tell if I like Freebirds and their anti-corporate corporation, their hippy/redneck flavor, or if my DT's due to lack of guacamole are just making me think that I do. Either way, I go. I order my half bird with steak. I pay extra for guacamole. I pay $5.25 (pre-guacamole tax) for what passes as a meal. It beats paying nearly ten bucks for a monster, a tortilla piled so high with crap that it takes the fat man who orders it four bites just to penetrate the foil wrapping.
I go and I eat and I'm vaguely certain that I enjoy it. It's just that I've been to one location in Austin, one in Dallas (on Greenville Ave. and Lovers Ln.), and one in College Station (if ever a city could be categorized as a "total fucking mindfuck, bro") and each location is exactly the same as the next, from the half brick, half cement walls, to the foil sculptures left on the bricks by customers, to the giant Statue of Liberty on a Harley holding a burrito instead of a torch. I mean, if I had just gone to one, I might have been fooled into thinking it was unique, a novel place, where college kids can rediscover what tortilla-wrapped edibles should be.
But I didn't stop at one. Nay, I got hooked on their backwards F logo. I saw it, high on a shopping center marquee and I salivated. I imbibed again and again, until resistance was futile; I was no longer a consumer, but a puppet, controlled by a half-bird with no cheese. So do I still go to Freebird's? Of course. Do I enjoy it? maybe. But do I choose to eat their burritos? Quite the contrary. The burritos chose me.
(Wow. Pot really DOES affect yer brain.)
Also, if you're still interested, you can order your Birds online! They'll be waiting for you ten minutes later at your favorite location. Bitchin'.
Tolerable
Tolerable is the word of the week to describe this city. Sometimes Dallas can be downright tolerable. I'm starting to come around. I mean, 'member cottonwood trees? Those things are fucking awesome. They make me feel like I'm driving around in the middle of a cosmic pillow fight. And not in an intrusive, coitus interruptus way. In a nice participatory way.
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