New Ruggles Grill: Southwest meets Slow Food

Back in the day, Ruggles Grill was big. Big food with big flavor served in big portions to big people with big hair who drove big cars and lived in big houses.

The Ruggles Grill

It was richly rewarded with accolades ranging from "best restaurant" to "most popular restaurant." It became a Montrose institution.

Then the eighties and nineties turned in to the oughties and new restaurants popped up all over lower Westheimer. Ruggles' big, meandering menu looked unfocused compared to restaurants like nearby Da Marco or Dolce Vita, which brought clarity and focus to a specific cuisine, in this case Italian. But Ruggles still did a good business, even with the calcified menu, until a big storm called Ike put the kibosh on the martini-and-mimosa-fueled party.

Damaged by Ike, Ruggles remained closed for more than a year after the storm, even as other restaurants celebrated grand re-openings. Insurance and city permit problems contributed to the delay, and surely the bad economy didn't help. Riding out the storm, both literally and economically, seemed a wise strategy for many restaurateurs.

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Meanwhile, owner Bruce Molzan partnered with Federico Marques to open Ruggles Green on West Alabama. This casual, counter service restaurant focused on organic and locally sourced ingredients and "green" restaurant procedures such as intensive recycling programs and styrofoam-free to-go containers. It became a big hit.

Fast forward to New Years Eve 2009. I was driving by Ruggles Grill and saw a banner draped across the front that announced it would reopen that night. Reservations were being taken. The reopening of Ruggles Grill was imminent. I checked the restaurant's website and found the same pre-Ike menus. This was disappointing, but curiosity led me to visit the restaurant the following week.

The first thing you notice is that the dining room is basically the same, but spruced up a bit. The main room to the left of the entrance is still where all the action is, with a small bar in the far corner and the hustle and bustle of Westheimer a few feet away through the French doors along the front. But that's where the similarities to the pre-Ike Ruggles end. The menu is a different story.

The new menu at Ruggles Grill retains some of the highlights of the old menu but with a lot of tweaks and a strong push for organic and locally sourced ingredients. Local vendors listed include a who's who of local farms: Gundermann, Georgia's, and Hatterman, to name a few. The dishes are far from minimal, and retain a Southwestern feel with lots of peppers and chiles and chipotles spread throughout. All of the dishes we sampled were fresh and well-executed.

Organic tofu and tomato salad

One of the more successful dishes of the visit was the organic tofu and Gundermann Farms tomato salad with Animal Farm mixed greens, dried blueberries, and organic shoa mai vinaigrette. Yes, it's a vegetarian dish, but Ruggle's philosophy of throwing lots of ingredients and flavors at a dish works well in this case. Yes, it's swimming in some kind of crazy vinaigrette, but the flavors are bright and well-balanced. Vegetarians, forever the red-headed stepchildren of fine dining, finally have a dish they can sink their teeth into. As someone who is as far removed from vegetarianism as you can get, I'd actually order this as a starter.

Grass-fed, bacon-wrapped filet with quinoa salsa

A less successful dish was the grass-fed, bacon-wrapped filet with passion fruit demi-sauce and spicy roasted pineapple organic fair trade quinoa salsa (it's a mouthful to say and to eat). There's something cheeky about pairing a thick cut of grass-fed tenderloin with quinoa, a couscous-like grain that's a trendy ingredient for the rabbit food crowd. It could work, but the dish also includes a roasted pineapple salsa whose plethora of ingredients detonate like a cluster bomb on the unsuspecting palate. This was the embodiment of an overwrought dish. Editing the ingredients and components would be welcome.

It's obvious that Chef Molzan has created a clever fusion between ingredients and dishes from the previous incarnation of Ruggles Grill and the organic/local/green lessons he's learned from the success of Ruggles Green. The question is, if you re-build it, will they come? It's quite possible that the River Oaks crowd will make the trek down Westheimer to get a taste of Ruggles past and present, and to see and be seen. And the vegetarians and Green Party voters who inhabit the surrounding Montrose neighborhood will walk or drive over in their Smart cars to feel that they've eaten well and responsibly. If these two constituencies can be reliably satisfied, Ruggles Grill may have a new life after all.

This blog entry was originally posted 22 Dec 2009 on the www.29-95.com website.

Looking for Tacos in All the Wrong Places

Baytown's not Pasadena. Pasadena's known for Gilley's and Bud and Sissy and oil refineries, and even stakes a claim to culinary celebrity with world's largest strawberry shortcake.

Taqueria Sahuayo in Baytown

Baytown's got the refineries and suburbs and a giant shopping mall right off I-10, but it lacks whatever faded patina of glamour that Hollywood bestowed upon its neighbor many years ago. And when you think of food destinations in and around Houston, Baytown never gets mentioned. That's why I had to go there.

There's an old traveler's trick I use when searching out interesting places or people. I ask a local resident where a tourist should never go, and then that's where I go. This inevitably results in the most interesting experiences. Many years ago, on the advice of a Frenchman, I stumbled into eastern Europe and spent a week in Belgrade, (then) Yugoslavia, at the start of that country's civil war. That was memorable. Turns out that responses for where tourists should never go often involve war-torn countries.

This technique also works for food exploring: ask someone from Houston where they would never go to eat good food, and Baytown usually gets the nod. The problem is trying to get anyone to go with you; even the most hardened food explorers shy away from Baytown. You have to get creative to find a dining companion.

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So I convinced my friend and fellow 29-95 blogger Jay (GunsandTacos) into joining me by telling him that Chamillionaire was giving a free Saturday morning concert at the Baytown Masonic Lodge, complete with a bricklaying exhibition and a BBQ and haggis potluck. He was initially skeptical, doubting I could ever be admitted to such an august group like the Masons, and suggesting that the Baytown Masons' musical tastes probably skew more toward Chingo Bling anyway. So I made up a few secret handshakes on the fly and showed him how they worked. He was impressed and liked them a lot, maybe too much, giggling and shaking hands with himself most of the rest of the day when he wasn't holding a taco. Anyway, he was on board.

Birria de Cabrito

Our first stop was Taqueria Sahuayo in an old part of Baytown that butts up against the mammoth ExxonMobil oil refinery. It's in an old Dairy Queen building, with a hand painted sign and blacked-out windows. Most people think that establishments with blacked-out windows are places where you should never go. Indeed, in my experience, such places yield great reward or great punishment. Nothing in between.

Among the smorgasbord of inexpensive tacos, caldos, and menudos that we ordered was one of the best dishes I've eaten in a long time: birria de cabrito (goat stew). Birria doesn't have anything to do with beer; rather, it's a traditional Mexican meat stew. There are generally two preparation styles: "guisada" or "tatemada." Guisada style involves tossing chiles, aromatics and meat into a pot and slow cooking it until the flavors combine into a traditional stew-like dish.

Tatemada style involves adding chiles and aromatics (and sometimes offal) to a vat of water, then the meat is suspended in a rack over the water and is steamed as the pot is heated. Juices from the meat drip into the broth below. The meat is removed and then cooked a second time -- grilled or roasted. The broth is strained and poured into a bowl and big chunks of (bone-in) meat are added to the broth.

The birria de cabrito at Taqueria Sahuayo is tatemada style. The broth (consomé de birria) is brought to your table in a giant steaming bowl and has a wonderful clarity of flavor marked by an intensely meaty (but not too gamey) essence and a restrained amount of seasoning. The chunks of meat range from chewy to falling-off-the-bone. Grab a homemade tortilla, spoon in some meat (it's OK if you accidentally-on-purpose drip some broth on there), add onions, cilantro and lime juice, then dredge the lot of it in the broth and take a bite. Once you've shredded the last piece of meat off the bones, mix some onions and cilantro into the liquid and drink the broth right out of the bowl. It's one of the most rewarding cold weather dishes I've ever had.

Bigotes food truck

On our way back to Houston, Jay and I decided to explore closer to town and exited at Freeport Street, just inside the Beltway. This was a shot in the dark; no one had ever mentioned this street to me as a food destination. It paid off. Block after block of taco trucks, carnicerias and elotes stands. We stopped at the Bigotes ("mustache") taco truck in the parking lot of E.J.'s Tire Shop at the corner of Freeport and McNair Streets.

As we studied the menu, a Hispanic gentleman sidled up to me and said something I thought was "sabado" or "sebadoh." The "sabado" made sense because it was Saturday, but I wasn't sure why he was asking about Sebadoh, one of my favorite indie rock bands. Jay stepped in and clarified that the gentlemen was actually saying "Salvador," which is the type of food made by this truck. Jay introduced himself to the gentleman and shook his hand, at which point the man got a funny look on his face and walked away quickly.

Pupusas are the calling card of any good Salvadoran street food vendor, and this truck specialized in it. Pupusas are thick corn tortillas stuffed with various fillings. I ordered a queso y chicharrón pupusa filled with cheese and finely chopped pork. It came out so hot I couldn't touch it, so I sprinkled on some curtido (pickled cabbage, onions and carrots) and tomato sauce. I took a bite. The savory, fatty pork combined with the pungent, chalky cheese and the sweet corn and tomato sauce, mixing with the vinegary curtido, was a symphonic taste experience. I ordered a couple of pupusas to-go for reheating later.

Pupusa from Bigotes food truck

On our way back to town we passed a flea market just off of I-10 and decided to stop in. The front half of the barn-like building was an actual Mexican flea market, the rear half was occupied by a dance club, complete with disco ball, throbbing music and a long bar packed with folks with nothing better to do on a Saturday afternoon. One surmises that if a metal detector were installed at the door, it would be a different crowd, or no crowd. Gringos who show up here, according to Jay, are either la migra or la policía. "It's a place you should never go," he whispered as he grabbed my sleeve and dragged me out to the parking lot. I really wish he hadn't said that.

This blog entry was originally posted 22 Dec 2009 on the www.29-95.com website.

My Top 10 Food Photos of 2009

When it comes to food, you can eat it, cook it, write about it, obsess over it, talk about it, read about it, make friends over it, and, perhaps most memorably, take pictures of it.

Conos Rellenos de Crema Mexican Pastry
El Bolillo Bakery — Houston, Texas — 7 February 2009

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This pic was snapped at El Bolillo Bakery on Airline Drive before the first Chowhounds taco truck crawl. We were noshing on the delectable goodies and taking photographs the whole time. These conos were some of the most photogenic (and tasty) of all the pastries. A flaky pastry cone is stuffed with a not-too-sweet vanilla custard.

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Frito Pie
Casa de Houston Foodie — Houston, Texas — 29 March 2009

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Cooking took a backseat for me in 2009, with restaurant visits and food writing taking up most of my free time. I did find some time to cook up a bowl of chili for a blog post I did about Frito pies. I wanted to get as close as possible to the Frito pies I ate at Little League games when I was growing up in Beaumont. This was the result. I think I got pretty close.

 

 

Barbacoa Tacos
Noemi's Tacos — Houston, Texas — 30 April 2009

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For a blog post on Menudo, I visited Noemi's Tacos on the advice of Alison Cook. The menudo was great, but I also ordered a side of barbacoa tacos just to try them out. Talk about sexy. They tasted as good as they looked. As my friend and fellow food blogger Ruthie so aptly commented, "I want to make out with those tacos."

 

 

Fried Boudin Nuggets
Al-T's Seafood & Steakhouse — Winnie, Texas — 17 June 2009

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I reviewed Al-T's for the Houston Press, and on one of my first visits we ordered pretty much the whole menu. Catfish and gumbo are the specialties of the house, but one of the most pleasant surprises was a plate of these fantastic boudin nuggets. Thick slices of housemade boudin sausage, breaded, deep-fried, and served with a side of ranch dressing. Awesome road food.

 

 

Tomatoes
The Inn at Dos Brisas — Brenham, Texas — 24 June 2009

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The Inn at Dos Brisas in Brenham sponsored a group of Houston food bloggers on a visit to tour the grounds and sample from a menu inspired by the produce grown in their extensive gardens. During the tour, ranch manager and horticulturist Johnnie Boyd Baker picked these tomatoes and presented them for us to taste. Yes, Virginia, there is a difference between the tomatoes you get at the supermarket and those that are grown locally and organically.

 

 

Barbecue Crabs
Sartin's West — Beaumont, Texas — 19 September 2009

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Nothing says "good eats" to my Southeast Texas born-and-bred palate like these spiky crustaceans. These barbecued and fried crabs at Sartin's West in Beaumont were the pinnacle of my BBQ crab eating season. Just the right heat and spice level, with tender, steaming and flaky crab meat. I ended up writing an overview of Beaumont/Port Arthur BBQ crabs, with a more ambitious Southeast Texas review slated for this spring.

 

 

Natto
Nippan Daido — Houston, Texas — 21 September 2009

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Natto is not something you usually find on Houston menus, even on Japanese restaurant menus. For a Houston Press blog post, I headed west to the most authentic Japanese market in Houston: Nippan Daido. Natto has one of the most unusual textures, colors and flavors I've ever experienced. The slimy, snotty texture and the funky orange-brown color make for a great, if not particularly appetizing, visual.

 

 

Bacon Cheeseburger
Hubcap Grill South — Houston, Texas — 23 September 2009

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There's lots of goodness in this pic of the bacon cheeseburger at the Hubcap Grill South location. The slightly charred top bun, the impossibly thick slice of tomato, the gooey cheese, the jauntily tilted hamburger patty, the glistening and vaguely erotic slices of bacon. Note the burger drippings soaking the bottom bun and pooling to the bottom right.

 

 

Roasted Pig Snout
Feast Restaurant/Jolie Vue Farms — Brenham, Texas — 27 September 2009

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The roasted pig snout picture is back in all its majestic glory! Few of my pics have elicited such a broad range of responses from "Cool!" (my nephew) to "Ewwww!" (everyone else). It generated a popular blog post too. And to answer your questions in advance: 1) no, you couldn't feel/taste the whiskers, and 2) it tasted like fatty ham.

 

 

Boudin
Cochon Butcher — New Orleans, Louisiana — 13 December 2009

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On a recent trip to New Orleans with a group of Houston food bloggers, Jenny and I ventured to one of the more notable restaurants open on a Sunday: Cochon Butcher. We ordered up a couple of dishes, sat down, and started snapping pics. When the counter person saw us, she kept sending out more dishes, including this very nice boudin.

Notes on the pics

I have no idea what an f-stop is. Or an exposure or an aperture. I have a trusty Fujifilm F20 point-and-shoot that does the job. I guess. I've never had a pro photographer look at my pics and render judgment. I like my pics. That's all that matters.

The only settings I use on my Fuji are the flash and the something-is-really-close-up setting. All of the pics listed here are un-retouched, except for resizing. All are taken without flash, except maybe the Frito pie, which looks like there might have been a flash involved.

Since I'm not mucking about with camera settings, I can turn my attention to subject, composition, lighting, and scale. When food is the subject of a photograph, texture is the key. Absent smell-o-vision or taste-o-vision, the visual texture of food is the best way to get your mouth watering. The texture of the sliced boudin at Cochon Butcher is a good example, the whiskery pig nose, maybe not so much.

I love (lurve?) curves as part of the framing of my compositions, the Frito pie and boudin nuggets being good examples. Needless to say, I'm always a little disappointed when a restaurant uses square plates. Lighting is always a crap shoot — one of the most important food blogger skills is the ability to arm-twist a maître d' into seating you at the best lit table in the house.

Scale is a quality of food photography that I find intriguing. In a recent food photography workshop we were taught to place a fork or other utensil in the photo to provide scale. However, most of the time I find it interesting to leave the scale (relative size) of the food ambiguous. Just how big is that Conos de Crema? The size of a quarter or the size of a fist? And is that cheeseburger a full size burger or a slider?

At the end of the day, I write about and photograph food because it is an endlessly fascinating subject. Everyone has to eat food, and seemingly everyone has an opinion about food, and many make their living working with food. People who are passionate about food are inevitably the most interesting people I meet.

In Search of the Perfect Po-boy

A leprechaun was marauding through the crowded streets of the New Orleans Po-Boy Preservation Festival, inadvertently scaring little children and hoisting a sign imploring visitors to visit Mahony's Po-Boy Shop.

Here comes another poor boy leprechaun

As an advertising gimmick it worked great, but I had to ask myself, "Does Mahony's need more recognition?" The week before, a New York Times article had all but anointed Mahony's as the standard-bearer for the so-called neo-tradionalist po-boy makers of New Orleans.

You see, according to the powers that be in the Big Easy, the New Orleans po-boy is an endangered sandwich. An invasion of five dollar footlongs as well as aggressive cost-cutting by long-established New Orleans po-boy shops has apparently resulted in a lowering of both quality and expectations for one of the truly unique creations of this food mad city — the authentic New Orleans po-boy. This "preservation" festival would celebrate and confirm everything that is good and true about the New Orleans po-boy.

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Leidenheimer po-boy loaves

I went to the New Orleans Po-Boy Preservation Festival to find out for myself what makes a New Orleans po-boy truly authentic. For months, my fellow po-boy fanatics and I had debated whether the current crop of Houston po-boy shops served the real thing. Some of my friends would even drag along native New Orleanians to confirm authenticity or to cast doubt (and aspersions) on Houston po-boy shops like Calliope's Po-Boy, Jazzie Cafe and BB's Cajun Cafe. For me, the festival offered a one-stop shop to sample only the most authentic po-boys to be had in New Orleans.

Upon returning to Houston I visited local po-boy shops on a regular basis. As a baseline, I ordered a fried shrimp po-boy at every location, on every visit. After eating 20-plus po-boys in Houston over the last couple of weeks, I was ready to render a verdict.

What makes a New Orleans po-boy authentic? Fresh ingredients are a must, be it the "filling" in the form of shrimp, oysters or roast beef, or the "dressing" in the form of mayonnaise, lettuce and tomatoes. But after much research, both on the web and on the ground at the festival, I confirmed what po-boy aficionados already know: it's the bread. Specifically the po-boy loaf produced by New Orleans bakers like Leidenheimer and Gendusa. The bread has a thin, crisp, parchment-like crust covering a downy, light-as-air interior. New Orleanians claim that due to factors unique to their city such as the sea level (it's mostly below), humidity and even the water, authentic New Orleans po-boy bread can only be produced in New Orleans. These arguments, in my opinion, are specious, driven more by turf protection than scientific fact. But still, such claims did not bode well for finding authentic po-boy bread in Houston.

Acme Oyster House fried shrimp po-boy

As a benchmark, I chose my favorite fried shrimp po-boy at the festival: Acme Oyster House. Acme is rarely mentioned in the same breath as the po-big-boys of New Orleans like Domilise's, Crabby Jack's, Mother's, or Uglesich's (R.I.P.). But on this day, Acme put out a no-frills, authentic, prototypical fried shrimp po-boy: Leidenheimer bread ("hinged," i.e. not cut all the way though length-wise, arguably a sign of authenticity), a simple dressing of mayonnaise, shredded lettuce, and tomato, and an overstuffed filling of perfectly crisp and seasoned fried shrimp. I would evaluate all Houston po-boys against this tasty benchmark.

Calliope fried shrimp po-boy

Calliope's Po-Boy (2310 Jefferson) is owned by a former New Orleanian who left after Katrina and eventually made it to Houston. She claims that her bread is produced locally and is authentic New Orleans po-boy bread. It's not exactly like Leidenheimer bread, but it's close. It has a crisp, snappy crust, with a lighter-than-normal (for Houston) interior. The fried shrimp filling is overstuffed if a bit bland. Dressings are fresh and tasty. Calliope's po-boys may not be completely authentic, but they are a pretty good approximation. The Louisiana hot sausage po-boy is worth a try.

BB's Cajun fried shrimp po-boy

On every visit to BB's Cajun Cafe (2710 Montrose), the bread was the least appealing of all the Houston po-boy joints. Invariably chewy and dense, I would often toss the bread aside and pick out the fried shrimp. This bread was closer to a traditional French baguette, rather than a New Orleans po-boy loaf. Admittedly (and possibly forgivably), BB's bills its po-boys as authentic New Orleans "style" po-boys. Which is kind of like saying you own an authentic Rolex "style" watch, but whatever. Less forgivable are the rubbery fried shrimp I encountered on a couple of visits. Some of my friends swear by the "Midnight Masterpiece," the roast beef po-boy. This may be a better choice than the shrimp.

Jazzie Cafe fried shrimp po-boy

Jazzie Cafe in the Heights (1221 West 19th) is another joint opened by former New Orleanians displaced by Katrina. It's gone through at least a couple of ownership changes since opening. A few regulars I know have noted ups and downs over the years. Still, it's gained a sizable following for its large and tasty, but mostly unauthentic, po-boys. Mainly it's the bread: a soft exterior and a dense interior are admittedly delicious but not recognizable as authentic po-boy bread. Ultimately, it's more of a fried shrimp subway sandwich. Some swear by the soft shell crab po-boy here.

The Big Mamou fried shrimp po-boy

My friend and fellow food explorer Jay Francis turned me on to the po-boys at The Big Mamou, the newish Cajun joint in the Heights (903 Studewood). He pointed out that they claim to procure their po-boy bread from Gambino's Bakery in New Orleans (Mama's Cajun in Cypress claims the same). That sounded promising. The bread does indeed have a thin, crispy, crumbly exterior with an airy-light interior (hinged too). Checking Gambino's website, they do offer national distribution of frozen loaves which they (unbelievably) claim to be tastier than fresh baked loaves! The main drawback of this po-boy, however, was a filling of small shrimp whose breading separated after a few bites. Messy and annoying. The remoulade-like sauce was a positive. Overall, The Big Mamou fried shrimp po-boy is the closest to an authentic New Orleans po-boy you can get in Houston.

So is it possible to get an authentic New Orleans po-boy in Houston? Regrettably, but not unexpectedly, the answer is no. You can get a fair but flawed approximation at The Big Mamou, and a very tasty and filling ersatz po-boy at Jazzie. If you pick the right po-boys at BB's Cajun or Calliope, you can get some very good sandwiches there too. For now, the only place to get an authentic New Orleans po-boy is in New Orleans. Perhaps that is as it should be. We should all be happy to let Mahony's, Domilise's and Crabby Jack's continue to hoist the banner (sans leprechaun) of the bona fide New Orleans po-boy.

This blog entry was originally posted 8 Dec 2009 on the www.29-95.com website.

Big Pimpin' in NOLA

A month or so ago, a representative from Ogilvy Public Relations contacted me via Twitter and asked if I would like to spend a weekend at the Harrah's New Orleans casino/hotel free of charge, as a guest of Harrah's. I said yes.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/chaparral/ / CC BY-NC 2.0

The purpose of the weekend is to show me (and several other Houston bloggers and social media "influencers") all the great things that Harrah's NOLA has to offer. The idea, of course, is that we will communicate our experiences to our blog readers and Twitter followers so that Harrah's may get more visitors (and business) from the Houston market.

In exchange for flying me to NOLA, putting me up in their hotel, and wining and dining me (all free of charge), Harrah's has asked for nothing in return. Only that I have a good time. Of course there is the implication that I should tweet and blog about my experience, preferably positive things. But at least so far, no one from Ogilvy or Harrah's has explicitly asked for this.

Which I appreciate. Ogilvy is a very sharp oufit; I've known about their social media blog, 360 Digital Influence, for some time now. In addition to their own Blogger Outreach Code of Ethics, they have made it clear that we must adhere to the FTC Guidelines for Endorsements (PDF) and the Word of Mouth Marketing Association’s Ethics Code.

I also admire the Harrah's brand. The last three times I have been to Las Vegas I have stayed at the Rio or Bally's. As part of agreeing to the free weekend, I asked that they provide me information about Harrah's involvement in the NOLA community and recovery from Katrina. The information they sent me about their community involvement is impressive. I hope to hear more over the weekend.

So, in the spirit of full disclosure: Harrah's New Orleans is flying me to NOLA, putting me up in their hotel, and wining and dining me at no charge. They have asked for nothing in return. During this trip I will be tweeting and blogging about my experiences (objectively, in my opinion). I hope my followers/readers will find my experiences in NOLA entertaining or at least informative.

A5 Kobe Beef at Vic & Anthony's

Kobe beef probably isn't what you think it is. The term "Kobe beef" gets thrown around alot — you see it on some high-end steak house menus in Houston, and more ubiquitously on burger joint menus as a "Kobe burger."

A tale of two tenderloins: USDA Prime (left), A5 Kobe (right)

There's a certain mystique about Kobe beef, vaguely associated with fat, docile cows from Japan that get massaged with sake and force-fed beer through a tube. Though it's sometimes hard to separate hype from reality — the steak from the sizzle if you will — one thing's for sure: real Kobe beef is very hard to come by.

Carlos Rodriguez knows this. He's the Concept Chef (i.e. head honcho) at Vic & Anthony's in downtown Houston. He's spent the last three years trying to source the real Kobe beef to serve here in Houston. Problem is, what limited supply there is gets shipped to cities like New York, Los Angeles, Chicago, and Las Vegas. Recently, he was able to work through a broker in New Jersey to have the Kobe beef shipped directly from Japan. This past Friday he started serving a five ounce tenderloin of real Kobe beef for an admittedly eye-popping $130.

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Why so expensive? First let's establish what Kobe beef is and isn't. Kobe beef is a cut of meat from the Tajima breed of Wagyu cattle that is raised and slaughtered in the Hyogo Prefecture of Japan (the city of Kobe being the capital). The traditions associated with raising cattle in this area of Japan — including feeding the cows beer and massaging them with sake — are supposedly ideal for producing the highest quality beef from Wagyu cattle (the breed itself is genetically predisposed to producing highly marbled beef). It's this intensive process combined with limited production that makes real Kobe beef scarce, and therefore expensive.

Most of the Kobe beef listed on restaurant menus is actually from Wagyu cattle that were imported to the US and then cross-bred with Angus cattle. Officially, this type of beef is supposed to be labeled as "Kobe-style,"American Kobe," or "American Wagyu." Unfortunately, most restaurants do not make the distinction and incorrectly label their beef as Kobe, either through ignorance or willful misrepresentation.

Dry-aging Kobe beef strips at Vic & Anthony's

The Kobe beef at Vic & Anthony's is the real deal. As per the Japan Meat Grading Association, this beef is graded as A5 Kobe beef, the highest grade based mainly on the density of marbling. Rodriguez is currently offering the previously mentioned five ounce tenderloin, and is in the process of dry-aging several large cuts of strip loin. The tenderloins should be available for at least another 10 days, with the strips being offered some time in the next week. The strip steaks will be available in about the same portion size and price.

Finished product: medium-rare Kobe beef tenderloin

On a recent Tuesday night, myself and a group of fellow steak lovers descended on Vic & Anthony's for a Kobe beef taste test. We ordered two A5 Kobe tenderloins and two USDA prime tenderloins, both cooked medium-rare. The differences were striking. Texture-wise, the Kobe beef is buttery and velvety, and exceedingly tender. Obviously, the traditional USDA prime tenderloin is tender but much firmer. But the real difference is in the flavor. The only way I can describe the Kobe is to say that this is what beef might taste like if a scientist decided to "perfect" the flavor of beef. The beef flavor is exceedingly refined and concentrated. Due to the marbling and medium-rare preparation, the beef almost melts in your mouth.

Although Rodriguez hopes to offer A5 Kobe beef as a regular menu item in the future, he is currently just testing the waters to see what kind of demand there might be in Houston. For any serious steak lover in Houston, a trip to Vic & Anthony's to try this rare delicacy is a must (for tasting purposes, you can split a portion among 2-3 people to help with the cost). Plus you'll be supporting and acknowledging Chef Rodriguez's prodigious efforts to bring A5 Kobe beef to Houston steak lovers.

State of BBQ Crab - Beaumont/Nederland

The quest to find, eat at, and rate the BBQ crab joints of Southeast Texas has begun.

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I'll dispense with the long and storied history of BBQ crab and just say that a comprehensive review of this native Southeast Texas cuisine is long overdue. The fact that BBQ crab joints keep popping up all over Southeast Texas is a tribute to the strong demand in this area. We all grew up eating them, and for many of us BBQ crab evokes memories of summer vacations to the beaches of the Gulf Coast.

The prevalence of BBQ crab in our area is also tied to the family that made it popular — the Sartin family of Sabine Pass and Beaumont. Various siblings, children and extended family of the founders continue to open Sartin's restaurants. At last count, there have probably been 15 to 20 instances of Sartin's Seafood restaurants over the years. On this trip we visited two of them: Sartin's Nederland and the new Sartin's West in Beaumont.

For purposes of this survey, I've organized the geographic disposition of BBQ crab into three areas: 1) Beaumont/Port Arthur/Nederland, 2) Houston/Galveston/Bolivar, 3) East Texas/Orange/West Louisiana.

This trip ventured deep into the heart of BBQ crab country: Beaumont and Nederland. We visited the best known purveyors of BBQ crab in this area: Sartin's in Nederland, and then Isaac Lee's, Sartin's West, and Floyd's in Beaumont. After the fact, I was informed that The Schooner in Nederland may also be serving BBQ crabs. I'll follow up on that.

A note on All-You-Can-Eat Platter service. Obviously the tradition is to serve BBQ crab as AYCE, but in the last 5 years or so that seemed to have changed. Many reasons for the AYCE downfall are promulgated, and a simple supply shortage is certainly believable.

Fortunately, AYCE seems to have returned, at least temporarily. All the locations we visited except Floyd's offered an AYCE option, generally in the $30 range. I believe all options included AYCE everything — in addition to BBQ crabs you can get catfish, shrimp etc.

Of course availability of blue crab is seasonal, and that may explain the return of AYCE. Blue crab season runs from around April to November in Southeast Texas. Supplies currently seem to be plentiful and of good size and quality. It will be interesting to see how many locations are offering AYCE in December.

What follows is a summary of our experiences on a recent Saturday's BBQ crab excursion to Beaumont and Nederland.

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Sartin's Nederland

After an hour-and-a-half drive from Houston through rice fields, oil refineries and saltwater marshes, we arrived at Sartin's in Nederland. This location is owned by Kim Tucker, formerly Kim Lynch and formerly Kim Sartin. It's the last bit that's important. Kim was married to Doug Sartin Jr., the son of the original Sartin's founder. While married, Kim and Doug started a Sartin's in Nederland in 1990, but that was short lived. They divorced in 1993, but Kim made another go of it by opening another Sartin's in Nederland in 1997 (no original Sartin family members are involved). If you are judging by seniority rather than blood relations, this is the current "original" Sartin's seafood restaurant. It's still going strong and this location was our first stop.

This location offered AYCE BBQ crab platter service on Wednesdays only. It is in the $30 range. At other times, BBQ crabs are always available, either as a part of a seafood platter, or a la carte. I recall individual crabs being in the $3 range. That's usually the going rate.

Pacing ourselves, Jay and I split a large seafood platter which included two BBQ crabs and a bunch of other goodies to sample. Beer Chris just wanted a couple crabs to sample too, and our very friendly and knowledgeable waitress recommended getting the kids BBQ crab dinner which was couple of BBQ crabs and fries. Hey, whatever works. When the plate arrived, we all stared at the plate of giants crabs and murmurred that kids in Nederland must really like BBQ crab.

The BBQ crab we sampled at Sartin's Nederland was excellent. Of all the joints we visited that Saturday, this came the closest to what I remember eating growing up in Beaumont. A bit larger than average in size, a good coating of spice mix, and, most importantly, flaky, moist, and sweet crab meat. The other dishes were well-prepared also: fried catfish, shrimp, fries, etc. A good start to the day.

Service was excellent — our server appeared to be a manager and was very friendly and helpful. Jay, undeterred by any sign that says "Employees only" when it's attached to a kitchen door, got permission for us to step into the kitchen. The industrial strength fryers and bins of BBQ crab were an impressive sight. This is clearly an operation that has been around for a long time and that knows what it's doing.

As we left, Kim Tucker introduced herself. She was interested in hearing about our BBQ crab tour. From our 10-15 minute conversation, it is obvious she takes pride in her operation and is a worthy protector of the Sartin's Seafood name.

 

Isaac Lee's - Beaumont

Isaac Lee's is owned by sisters Kim Vawter, Stacy Mathews and Tracy Mathews. After Kelli Sartin (daughter of the original Sartin's founders) opened a Sartin's restaurant in Clear Lake, Texas, the Mathews sisters later bought that restaurant. And in what became a major point of contention, they seem to have thought they bought rights to the "Sartin's" name as part of the package.

In addition to buying the Clear Lake restaurant, the sisters also later opened a branch in Beaumont on College Street in an old Denny's location. They advertised both restaurants as "The Original Sartin's."

This apparently did not sit well with Kim Tucker at the Sartin's in Nederland (there seems to be some friction between Kim Tucker and Kelli Sartin, but then again, there seems to be some friction between everyone involved in Southeast Texas BBQ crabs and the Sartin's trademark). Eventually Kim Tucker would sue the Mathews sisters in federal court in Beaumont for trademark infringement. Things get murky from there (I've yet to speak with Kelli Sartin -- I'm working on that -- and I may try to pull the case records next time I'm in Beaumont). In any case, the Clear Lake Sartin's closed and the Beaumont location rechristened itself "Isaac Lee's," apparently named after the sisters' father.

So that's a whole lot of groundwork laid for this stop on the BBQ crab tour, and we'd not even yet stepped foot in the restaurant. Such is the baggage that comes with eating BBQ crabs in Southeast Texas. We rolled up to Isaac Lee's around 1pm on a Saturday. There were a couple of tables filled, but generally it was quiet. The space itself is no-frills, with a few marine-themed decorations like nets and anchors on the walls. It reminded me of a Red Lobster circa 1978, but in a good way. Walls of windows let the light shine in and made the place bright and welcoming.

We ordered a half dozen BBQ crabs, chicken and sausage gumbo, and boudin balls. Note that this location is the only BBQ crab joint I know of that still offers AYCE BBQ crab all day, every day for $28.50. God bless'em. For the record, the gumbo was not so good (watery broth, rubbery sausage), and the boudin balls were pretty good.

As for the BBQ crabs, these were definitely the most unique taste/preparation. The spice accretions on the crabs themselves were quite light. Still the spice flavoring was good. I'd guess they also use the Fiesta mix. Crab size was good, and the meat was steaming and flaky.

However the most unique aspect of this BBQ crab was the taste of the crab meat. Traditionally, good BBQ crab meat is super sweet and flaky, with the spice dredge occasionally getting mixed in during the eating process to offer an otherworldly sweet/savory/spicy combination. But as Jay first pointed out, the crab meat at Isaac Lee's tasted vaguely of chicken broth, or at least unusually salty. We pondered and puzzled over this for a while. We asked the waitress if they parboiled the crabs, perhaps in salty water, before BBQ-ing (frying) them. She checked with the kitchen and they said no.

The salty flavor of the crab meat was not a big deal — the overall experience was all quite satisfactory, if not exceptional. We came up with a couple of possibilities for the salty crab meat, the first being that maybe the oil was old and infused with salt and spices and maybe the crabs were a bit overcooked in that oil. Alternatively, we surmised that crabs that taste like this may be secretly parboiled to give them a little extra edge (at this point we were just thinking out loud — we took the waitress on her word). There is some precedent for this. Some BBQ crab recipes call for the crabs to first be marinated in a liquid smoke mixture to give them an even more BBQ-y taste, then dredged in spice rub, then deep fried.

In general, Isaac Lee's is a good place for BBQ crabs especially if you are seriously hungry and want an AYCE option and the other crab joints aren't offering them at that time/day.

 

Sartin's West - Beaumont

Sartin's West is the most recent endeavor of Doug Sartin Jr. and his current wife Emily Summers. Doug is the oldest son of the original Sartin founders, Charles and Jeri Sartin (still alive and living in Sabine Pass). Doug and his first wife Emily opened the Sartin's in Beaumont north of Parkdale Mall in 1990. When they got divorced, Kim got ownership of it. She also opened the Sartin's in Nederland (above). In 2002 Kim passed control of the Beaumont Sartin's to Geneva Broussard, a longtime Sartin's associate. Hurricane Rita closed that location in 2005.

Around that time Doug Sartin and his new wife Emily opened a Sartin's Seafood out on Highway 90 west of Beaumont. It was very close to where my sister lived at the time — I drove by it all the time. Eventually they would move into town to Calder Street where the old Cody's used to be. But it looks like Hurricane Ike hit that location hard and it was closed by 2008. The current location of Sartin's West on I-10 in Beaumont opened in early summer, just in time for crab season. Every time I've driven by, it's looked busy.

Like almost all previous incarnations of Sartin's West, this location is in a longtime restaurant location. The last business here was a comedy club. It's a great building for a restaurant, with a huge dinign room space with lots of light. I imagine the kitchen is industrial strength too.

Jay, Beer Chris, and I arrived around 2pm. There were a few large tables occupied. As with every other Sartin's restaurant I've been in, the staff is mostly made up of cute local girls in tight shorts and T-shirts. I suppose if you're a waitress at Sartin's and are lucky enough, you'll marry a Sartin and open a Sartin's restaurant somewhere.

Sartin's West was offering AYCE BBQ crab for around $30. We had just about had our fill so we asked to order just four crabs. The waitress surprised us by quoting $2 per crab. This is a lot lower than the going rate of $3 per crab. I assume she new what she was talking about — on the otherhand, maybe she had never had a request for individual crabs and just made a guess. In any case, $2 is what we paid.

The menu included two crab options: BBQ or Fried. Intrigued, we ordered two of each. Turns out the fried option is just a crab dipped in batter and fried without the BBQ seasoning. (Sartin's in Nederland also offered the fried crab option which I noticed on the menu some time later).

The crabs were larger than average and perfectly cooked. How can you tell? Because this was the only location where each crab yielded the highly prized "crab claw lollipop." With the best BBQ crabs, when you gently pull the crab legs from the body, a giant chunk of crab meat should come off with it. Otherwise you have to dig around in the socket to get to it. All of the crabs at Sartin's West willingly yielded the sweet and flaky crab meat.

As far as the seasoning goes, the fried crabs were absolutely delicious. The batter was nicely seasoned and may have had some impact on sealing in the super tasty crab meat. The BBQ crab had lighter spice dredge than Nederland, but more than Isaac Lee's. I'd say it was just right. We told the waitress we thought the BBQ crabs were better here and she acted surprised because she thought Sartin's West and Sartin's Nederland used the same spice. Based on Kim Tucker's comment's earlier in the day, I can then assume Sartin's West also uses the Fiesta seasoning.

We polished off the four crabs, and frankly, I couldn't wait to come back. At this point Beer Chris had to continue on to Louisiana, so Jay and I headed down the I-10 service road the few yards to the final stop on our tour — Floyd's Cajun Seafood.

 

Floyd's - Beaumont

At this point in the narrative we diverge from the Sartin's branch of Southeast Texas seafood history, and take up the even more entangled story of the Landry's branch of Texas-Louisiana seafood lore.

The Landry brothers — Don, Willie, and Ashby — would start the Landry's/Don's Seafood empire in Louisiana and two of their sons — Billy and Floyd — along with a host of business partners, brought the Cajun style seafood to Southeast Texas and Houston. The sons and partners would eventually sell out to Tilman Fertitta who would create the Landry's Restaurant empire. Billy Landry died several years ago, but Floyd Landry is still going strong.

In addition to Floyd's locations in Webster and Pearland, the Floyd's in Beaumont was created from a venerable Don's seafood restaurant that Floyd re-acquired in 2006. I spent a good deal of my time growing up in Beaumont going to that Don's location — it was a family favorite. When Jay and I pulled up at around 3pm, this was the first time I had been back since it had changed to Floyd's. It had been 7 or 8 years.

The interior had been completely gutted and opened up. Floyd's signature horseshoe bar took up half the space, a dining room the other half. At 3pm, there were a few tables occupied and a few people at the bar, including hostesses. We sat at the bar and asked the bartender about BBQ crabs.

BBQ crabs are only briefly mentioned on the Floyd's menu, so the bartender ran down the options: 3 crabs for $9.75, 6 for 16.95, and 12 for $28.95. This is typical pricing for restaurants that do not do a high volume or are not known for BBQ crabs. There is no AYCE option.

I placed an order for the minimum 3 BBQ crabs. The bartender went back to the kitchen to put in the order. When she came back she related that the fryers were not yet ready and we'd have to wait until 4pm. I told her we'd come back some other time. But before we could leave, one of the cooks came out and said he'd fire up the fryers just for us. They seems genuinely accommodating, I was impressed. I love Floyd's but sometimes the service and quality can be wildly inconsistent. I sometimes get the feeling that the inmates are running the asylum at Floyd's, but in the best possible way.

When the crabs came out, they were about average size, with probably the heaviest spice dredge of the day. They were super salty, which for Jay is always a deal-breaker. I plowed ahead, even though I was stuffed from eating BBQ crab all day. These crabs were not quite as meaty and sweet as the ones we had earlier, but still very serviceable.

As for the salt issue, the crabs were edible for me, but I could taste the salt on my lips afterwards. Did they use their own spice blend? Were the crabs always this salty? I related to Jay that this may be the normal preparation — there is rarely anything subtle about Floyd's. I figured I'd visit a couple more times before I made a conclusion.

And with that final stop, Jay and I piled into the car and made the drive back to Houston. The Beaumont/Nederland leg of the BBQ Tour was complete. Or was it? I later found out that The Schooner in Nederland may be serving BBQ crabs. Looks like a followup visit may be in order.

 

BBQ Crab Ratings

Here are how the various participants rated the BBQ crabs on this day. Keep in mind that based on our experience, the quality of BBQ crabs can vary wildly from day to day and from season to season. In all probability, the Sartin's restaurants will always be top two, with the exact order determined by the vagaries of preparing BBQ crab.

Houston Foodie 1. Sartin's West 2. Sartin's Nederland 3. Floyd's Beaumont 4. Isaac Lee's

Jay 1. Sartin's Nederland 2. Sartin's West 3. Isaac Lee's 4. Floyd's Beaumont

Beer Chris 1. Sartin's West 2. Sartin's Nederland 3. Isaac Lee's