Houston, you wined and dined me, introducing me to such restaurants as Mark’s,where food became a serious suitor for my affections.
The flirtation began at Tex-Mex eateries with happy hour margaritas.
You made lunches of salads into events.
Dear Houston food scene,
Happy Valentine’s Day.
How do I tell you how much you mean to me?
Oh, sure, it wasn’t love at first sight. In those early days so many years ago, struggling writers didn’t dine out a lot, and my first apartment in Houston had a gas leak. So the antique stove made a lovely planter, cradling potted ferns instead of roasting fowl.
But the flirtation began with your Tex-Mex eateries, from taquerias to the old Westheimer Road location of Armandos, you enticed with happy hour margaritas and big bowls of creamy chili con queso and warm chips. Ah, but we were just getting started.
Then you began to wine and dine me, introducing me to Cafe Annie and Tony’s and Mark’s, where food became a serious suitor for my affections. You made lunches of salads into events at La Griglia and La Colombe d’Or by adding mounds of lump crabmeat and subtle white wine vinaigrette.
But you had an exotic side I had yet to savor. Even in your youth you had wonderful Thai, Vietnamese, Chinese and Japanese flavors to offer. Late afternoons at Nippon were another world where Asian businessmen used to line the sushi bar for sake, cigarettes and sashimi. The clouds of smoke are gone now but you can still get hand rolls as fine as almost anywhere at this little Montrose favorite.
One of the things I love about you is that you embrace all cultures; you offer restaurants with dishes from Africa to Venezuela and every country in between. Dim sum, kolaches, crepes and fondue, you have it all. Vegetarians can nosh on spicy dishes from Indian buffets spilling over with delicacies while meat-eaters have a plethora of steakhouses and churrascarias.
And now you've just gone wild showing your food love. Suddenly it seems the city is the place for food. New restaurants popping up almost every week, hot young chefs experimenting with creative cuisines, food blogs, restaurant groupies and groups and then the farmers' markets. How was it I didn't cook before? Now I can’t stop, what with a working stove and a kitchen laden with seasonal local produce, fresh seafood from the Gulf and grass-fed beef. There was a time when food shopping meant a quick stop at a chain grocery store. Now it’s an all day affair starting at the farmers' market and ending at one of the many specialty stores. Was there really a time when I didn’t have four kinds of cheese and three—yes, three—different types of salt on hand?
Oh, you may have had me at fish tacos, but it was true love when you reinvented regional cuisine. Chefs like David Grossman, Randy Evans and Bryan Caswell are now media darlings being touted in The New York Times and The Daily Beast.
But don’t let all that national media attention go to your head.
Please don’t forget who fell for you in your salad days. The ones who loved you when the rest of the world thought you were just about barbecue. We knew you’d be a star some day, and now you’ve lived up to your potential.
So here’s to you, Houston food scene. You are my valentine.
