Archived Article By Tom Fitzmorris Originally published August 18, 2006 Click here for the current edition Dining Around Houston A few years ago, the nationally-published restaurant critic John Mariani infuriated everyone around here by saying that Houston's restaurants had surpassed those of New Orleans. That's the kind of thing that guys in my field say to get attention, and it's hardly worthwhile at this moment to discuss it. What remains below the shock value is a truth, however. The Houston restaurant scene is vastly better than it once was, and better than most Orleanians give it credit for. While it's true that chains dominate the Houston dining scene (the regional Pappas group alone has 35 restaurants in the Houston area), and while it's true that the search for the kind of food we like to eat in New Orleans will turn up distressingly little of note, Houston's enormous size (it's the fourth-largest city in America) and wealth support an ambitious and widely varied restaurant community. Houston has kinds of restaurants that we can only dream of having here, in our provincial (if wonderful) food town. I was there for a few days recently, and implemented the most important rule of eating on the road: eat the food of the region. Mostly. But first, I had to make a stop in an outpost of home. Brennan's in Houston (3300 Smith, Downtown; 713-522-9711) is associated with the Commander's Palace branch of the Brennan family. (Its proprietor is Alex Brennan-Martin, the son of Ella Brennan). The building is a handsome old structure with a courtyard, on the edge of the Houston business district. It's been a power lunch place since before the term "power lunch" was created. The main dining room requires jackets for men even at lunchtime, and always at dinner--a rule more common in Houston than in New Orleans these days. It's also near the top of most lists of Houston's best restaurants. Culinarily, Brennan's in Houston is a hybrid of Commander's with the flavors of the Southwest--although on this visit it seemed to me that the menu was leaning rather far back in a retro direction, favoring the traditional Creole aspect. It's always busy, and certainly was when my 17-year-old son and I walked in (jacketless, to my chagrin) at around one-thirty in the afternoon. The waiter seemed a little exasperated with us--it almost seemed like a tourist rush, the first time I've ever encountered such a thing here. I tried to warm up the guy by ordering not the two-bit martini but a full-price one, and a double-digit glass of wine, but I don't think he thought us worthy. The food, however, was terrific. We started with a seafood gumbo with more and firmer tomatoes and okra than is the custom these days in New Orleans. I had turtle soup; it was the Commander's recipe, not the rather different Brennan's-on-Royal version, but good at that. I also had some shrimp remoulade, and there was nothing wrong with that. They run the same kind of lunch bargains here that Commander's does, for a shade over $20. One of these was a pair of egg dishes, which I haven't had in awhile. The Sardou was perfect; the benedict was a major improvement on the standard, with the ham included inside a pinwheel pastry. And great hollandaise, which always warm my heart. We also had steak Diane over mashed potatoes, which was much better than it looked. And an excellent cheese plate for dessert. I left wondering what it was about the crab cake that occasioned its $36 a la carte price. I was tempted to check it out, but then imagined a food buyer laughing. That evening, we went in search of barbecue. Which is omnipresent in Houston. Winnowing down recommendations from many sources, we wound up at Baker's Ribs (2223 S. Voss Rd., not far from the Galleria; 713-977-8725). The place looked right: run down, tin roof, old rusty metal signs nailed to walls, concrete floor, picnic tables, cafeteria line, smell of smoke. The standard aspect of a good barbecue joint. (Despite that, I later found out that there were two other locations of the place around town.) Baker's was everything I hoped for. Both the brisket and the pork shoulder were sliced thick, moist in the middle, with a nearly-black bark of seasoned smokiness around the edges. I also had a pile of good smoked sausage (required of a Texas-style barbecue platter). The cole slaw and beans were just right. The squeeze bottle of homemade sauce they gave you was warm to the touch--a good idea I don't think I've encountered before. Everything was served generously and the prices for the platters was well under $10. I wouldn't dare to call this the best barbecue in Houston (that's an instant argument no matter who you name), but it's certainly one of the best I've found in my many barbecue forays across the state. The other local cuisine in Houston is Tex-Mex. Again I referred to advice from a few sources and we found ourselves in a place with the unlikely name Café Red Onion (3910 Kirby Dr., near US 59; 713-807-1122). Its menu was mostly Mexican, but what caught my attention was that the place claimed to be a fusion restaurant. What was being fused were the cuisines of the rest of Central America, as well as a few dishes from South America. Things got started interesting, with not just the typical red tomato-and-pepper salsa, but a yellow salsa based on pineapple. We ordered a batch of queso dip and found that very good, too. We had an appetizer of four taquitos stuffed with beef and cheese, with a thick tomato and guacamole in the center. These sat atop strips of fresh cheese--a fixture in Mexican cooking that we almost never see in New Orleans. The entree portion of the menu was largely the work of the grill cook. A kebab of pieces of chicken, pork, beef, and spicy chorizo sausage came out with a variety of vegetables and the very good garlic chimichurri sauce. Underneath the kebabs were more strips of fresh queso--grilled this time. We also tried the churrasco Tegus--skirt steak made in the style of the Pacific coast town of Tegucigalpa, Tender and delicious. And the Brazilian chicken, marinated with beer and jalapenos, grilled, and served with a tomato sauce that almost seemed Italian. Very tasty. When I asked about Café Red Onion's history, I learned it was one of a chain of four. Even the little guys in Houston are on the make. © 2006 Tom Fitzmorris. All rights reserved. news@nomenu.com