Food for Thought

How Frito chili pie became the national food of Texas — and a new H-Town version

Yelapa's Brunch Frito Pie is a new take on a Texas classic.
Photo by Kimberly Park
The State Fair Winner, Texas Fried Frito Pie is a pure Texas story.
Fritos started in Texas and are still based here.
L.J. Wiley is starting a Sunday Funday menu at Yelpa the first weekend inOctober.

When Bert’s Burgers & Fries nabbed the Big Tex Best Taste at the State Fair of Texas’ Labor Day food contest with Texas Fried Frito Pie, Texans and expats around the globe wondered: Why the heck did it take so long for someone to come up with this?

Frito chili pie has been a staple of Texas fairs, high school football games and greasy diners almost as long as Fritos have been in existence. But it took Nick Bert of Bert’s Burgers & Fries to come up with the idea of deep-frying the corn chips, chili, sharp cheddar cheese and onions. The press release from the Fair calls it a “hot, meaty, crunchy, salty, cheesy, oozing goodness.”

Ooooh, I can feel my arteries hardening already.

(FYI: The winner of most creative creation was fried beer. Hello, this is Texas.)

But don’t hold your breath for deep-fried Frito pie; it’s doubtful you can chow down on this delicacy anytime soon, unless you head up to Dallas before the Fair ends Oct. 17.

But that’s OK, there are plenty of places to eat Frito pie right here in Houston. And you can always make your own.

That’s what C.E. Dolin’s mom, Daisy, did in the early 1930s. C.E. Dolin, also known as Elmer, started the Frito Company in San Antonio in 1931 after he bought the recipe for $100. The company’s website doesn’t say who the poor schmuck was who sold it and lost out on a $10 billion industry. Anyway, according to the PR folks at Frito, mom started fooling around with recipes and created a pie of chili and chips. The rest is history.

Part of which is that corn chips married potato chips to become Frito-Lay, Inc. and moved to Plano, which, at least, is still in Texas.

So, Frito pie is quintessentially Texan. It’s the perfect Texas street food. (Although apparently they even eat it in California where it’s called a Walking Taco.) Vietnam can keep its bahn mi, India can keep all its chaat (even the yummy bhel puri dish of fried noodles, puffed rice and potatoes) and Germany can keep its paper cones of frites. I’ll take a Frito pie anytime.

And as I write that, I’m reminded of my first Frito pie. I had actually just come from the land of frites to a small town outside of San Antonio to start my first year of high school.

Can you say culture shock? I could and I did.

But after a while I sucked it up, bought my first pair of Tony Lama cowboy boots, started listening to Freddy Fender and Johnny Rodriguez and spent a Friday night under the lights. Thanks to the TV show Friday Night Lights, even Yankees know what this means.

I went to a high school football game. I wasn’t on the pom pom squad and I didn’t date a jock, so it was pretty boring. Until I found the band booster parents’ snack stand under the bleachers. It was there that I bought my first Frito pie. I watched with wonder as some anonymous band mom slit open (horizontally, never on the seam) a bag of Fritos Original Corn Chips, ladled in some piping hot Wolf Brand Chili (Meat. Only. No beans. This is not negotiable.) and topped it with some shredded cheddar and diced white onion.

I carried that little bag around, digging into it with a plastic spork until every last morsel was gone.

I have been a Texan ever since.

Today, of course, you can get your fast food Frito pie fix on at most high school football and Little League games, Sonic Drive-Ins, 59 Diners and that Houston institution James Coney Island. And if you like your pie with a side of waitress smack talk, there’s always the Avalon Diner in River Oaks, where Frito pie has been on the menu almost since the diner opened in 1938. Just $2.95 a cup or $4.75 for a hearty bowl.

But if it’s a little culinary creativity you want, there’s the Frito Chili Pie on Yelapa Playa Mexicana’s upcoming brunch menu. Hot young chef L. J. Wiley is starting a Sunday Funday menu the first weekend in October and Frito pie will be front and center on the menu.

“Migas is the obvious choice for a Mexican brunch,” Wiley says. “But why stop at tortilla strips when you have Fritos?”

The recipe includes the famous Texas corn chips, cheese, eggs, a dollop of sour cream, some salsa and a little topping of cilantro and dice onions. And, of course, chili. Wiley’s pork chili to be exact. Because…

“Well, everything’s better with pork!” Wiley says.

But no beans. I repeat: No. Beans.

Wiley concurs.

“No beans in my chili,” he says.

And lest you think Wiley (the tattooed, motorcycle riding former chef at Cullen’s Upscale American Grille who cooked up some sous vide prime ribs there and puts peanuts in his guacamole at Yelapa) is a little too out there to appreciate the real essence of Frito pie, read on.

“To me Frito chili pie means eighth-grade softball diamond snack food. I grew up with it. It’s the ultimate American fast, comfort, snack food. And the best thing about it is that you can make it at home in minutes in the microwave.”

And how does Chef Wiley make it at home?

With Fritos and Wolf Brand Chili.

Wolf Brand Chili with no beans.

I rest my case.

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bring on the Bacalhau

Michelin-starred Houston restaurant heads to Portugal for new season

Photo by Zach Horst

No conversation about Houston’s best restaurants would be complete without mentioning March, Goodnight Hospitality’s Mediterranean-inspired, fine dining, tasting menu restaurant in Montrose.

For its 12th season, which begins this Friday, August 7, March will take a broad look at Portugal. Over the course of pre-dinner snacks in its lounge, seven courses in its dining room, and take away desserts, chef-partner Felipe Riccio and his team will guide diners through all aspects of Portuguese cuisine, including its trade routes with China, India, and North Africa.

Riccio tells CultureMap that Portugal was the logical follow up to March’s 11th season, which examined northern Spain. He began the research process a few months ago, drawing upon published literature, cookbooks, and his own experiences as a stage at a restaurant in Lisbon. More than a menu update, seasons at March also include changes to the beverage offerings and creating service touches that enhance the experience.

Photo by Zach Horst

Rabbit cozido.

“Portugal is so close geographically to the north of Spain, and there’s a lot of similarities,” he says. “The menu really explores a lot of places outside of the Mediterranean where the Portuguese had influence and were influenced by. It’s all these trade routes.”

Priced at $230 plus drinks, tax, and gratuity, a meal at March begins in the lounge with four snacks, including a peri peri-spiced duck rillette, a delicate tart with lobster and caviar, a tempura-fried fish (peixinhos da horta) and the Macau-inspired porcho balichao made with manilla clams.

As always, March brings premium ingredients to its take on classic dishes. For example, it sources Japanese Almaco Jack for a crudo that’s inspired by Portuguese salt cod (bacalahua). Cozido, a slow-cooked stew that’s a staple of Portuguese cooking, gets reinterpreted as a house made rabbit sauce with foie gras. Riccio acknowledges that diners expect a certain level of luxury at this price point, but diners may not always realize how valuable properly-sourced ingredients are.

“I don’t think it always has to be so overt. I think the majority of people, the experience as a whole delivers that value,” Riccio says.

Similarly, the Portugal menu continues March’s move to a set, seven-course menu instead of giving diners the choice of either six or nine courses. Riccio see that as another sign of the restaurant’s maturity.

“A tasting menu is restrictive. We needed to earn that trust and give people options. I felt like people trust us and we’ve proved we can create an experience,” he says.

Since part of the criteria for a Michelin star is consistency across visits, March’s ability to hold its star while still changing its menu twice a year is a testament to the kitchen’s skill. Add in the server’s deep knowledge of every dish on the menu, its comprehensive beverage offerings, and a dining room that features museum- quality art, and it’s reasonable to think that March might become Texas’ first restaurant to earn a two-star rating. For his part, Riccio would welcome the recognition.

“I think March as an entire experience, as a restaurant day-in and day-out, we can be at that level. We strive to give people that experience to where they have that menu and feel it’s well worth it,” he says. “That recognition. I’ve seen what it means for the team, for the guests, and for the validation of the experience, and, obviously, for my career and the restaurant as a business.”

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