Beavers and Brussel Sprouts

When my husband and I found ourselves quite the only couple in town not attending a wedding, drifting the New Braunfels river or participating in the New Orleans Jazz Fest festivities, we agreed to extend date night into date weekend. And, being the foodies we are, we decided to knock out a few restaurant on our to-eat-list.



Friday night, we drifted into Beaver's, a bar and restaurant tucked away on the less traversed end of Washington Street headed towards downtown Houston. A review in the Houston chronicle had landed the restaurant on our to-eat-list simply by its photo of a large cornmeal-crusted oyster po-boy overflowing with crispy onions on a buttery potato bun.



As we drove into the small, graveled front parking lot, we were greeted by short wooden stumps leading to the restaurant entrance. But, inside was hip; with a few rounded booths and multiple two-seater tables. Beaver's seemed perfect for couples seeking a romantic but relaxed evening out despite the waitress' shirts reading "Beavers, just south of Hooters". The menu was exciting for the two of us, often nostalgic for our Southeastern fare, offering cheesy grits, braised collards and sweet potato mash. Their entrees included the oyster po-boy that had initially lured us from the pages of the Houston Chronicle, a shredded chicken sandwich with tangy slaw, barbecue sauce, crispy onions and a fried egg, brisket tacos braised with orange, sesame and golden raisins and country rabbit en mole verde over black bean tamales. They also had a selection of brisket, ribs and sausage from the smoker, fried pickles and even a tofu BBQ burger for the meat-averse. Needless to say, we stumbled out of the restaurant, our bellies full of their locally brewed beer on draught and Southern-Texas cuisine. And, I've since thought to go back for a tee-shirt.



Saturday evening we felt as if we'd traveled across the Atlantic and into the Mediterranean, perched on the outside patio of Dolce Vita, an Italian cafe and enoteca, or wine shop. The patio is surrounded by a tall wrought iron fence hidden in creeping foliage that shields us from the road just ten feet beyond; and, we are shielded from both sun and rain by a white canopy overhead. The menu is light, delicious and from what I can tell, authentic. They offer small plates of shaved brussel sprouts with pecorino, fingerling potatoes "arrabbiata", calamari, pancetta or a cheese selection served with honey. Their thin crust pizzas are divine. We ordered the Siciliana with tomatoes, capers and olives and the Melanzane with eggplant, tomatoes and parmigiano. I had heard that their wine list is excellent but, as I am unfamiliar with Italian wines (usually preferring South American blends) I let the waiter choose for us. I recommend, encourage or simply assure you that this decision, at least here at Dolce Vita, is a wise one.

We left Dolce Vita happy, satiated and not too full. What a wonderfully interesting feeling for the both of us on a night out; tummies content though not protruding. No waddling to the car, despite splitting an appetizer, two pizzas and two desserts. European portion size is truly a marvel for the American to behold.

However, if dessert is what you crave, I would suggest going all out, skipping dessert at Dolce Vita and heading over to Little Bigs sliders and shakes for a home-spun milkshake. After all, the moment you drift out from under the white canopied patio of Dolce Vita, you are back on American soil, Texas soil at that; and, we all know that everything is bigger in Texas, including our appetites!

Sweet Potato Roots

When one leaves the Southeast, one's fixin' to know it at first bite. Pork ain't the same, barbecue ain't the same, hell, even sauce ain't the same. And, don't get your panties in a wad when people regard you with blank stares upon request for a sweet tea.

So, whenever I come across a fusion restaurant far from home and discover they're incorporating a bit o' southern flair into they vittles (actin' like collards are some kind of exotic green), my heart cain't help but swell with pride.

A recent trip to Dallas restaurant, Sevy's, sent my tastebuds straight into the thick of a magnolia scented dining room.
The culprit: barbecue-glazed salmon over buttermilk-chive whipped potatoes with tabasco butter and crispy leeks.

And, if that wasn't enough, famed seafood restaurant, Reef, in Houston, Texas (where my husband and I dined a week later), whipped up hearty servings of crispy-skinned seared snapper over sweet and sour chard and tomato brown butter, and roasted grouper over corn pudding with salsa cruda and grilled peach. Now, slap me silly if we ain't in the South! Also on their menu, a fried mac and cheese that stands alone at a size comparable to a very large, well-endowed grapefruit. (We were informed that this southern treat remains the most time-consuming item to prepare on the menu.)

Now, if I do say so myself, I think I'll be off my soapbox for the night, clamp me on some pearls and cook me up a tomato pie! Bon Appetit, y'all!

Grandma's Tomato Pie

1 box Bisquick
4-5 large tomatoes
1/2 c. mayo
3/4 c. shredded cheddar cheese
salt and pepper

Preheat oven to 375 degrees. (400 depending upon your oven)
First: prepare the crust
Follow instructions on pkg. for crust and press into deep-dish pie plate.
Second: thinly slice 4-5 large tomatoes and layer in dish.
Third: Mix 1/2 c. mayonnaise and 3/4 c. shredded cheddar cheese, spread in an even layer across the top of the tomatoes.
Salt and pepper the top, pop in the oven and bake 25-35 min. or until the Bisquick crust is a golden brown and the cheese is melted and bubbly.

*optional: add 1 tsp. italian seasoning, 1/2 T chopped chives, or fresh basil leaves to tomatoes.