Blogs

This week in Café we contemplate the similarities between the food stalls in the Komart Korean grocery store on Gessner with the street vendors of Asia. Some Asian street vendors’ creations, like tapioca tea, which was first sold from a cart in Taipei, have gone on to become international sensations. The last Korean crossover is a toasted sandwich. After gaining popularity at street vendor stalls, bacon and egg toasts, pepperoni pizza toasts and other such sandwiches have become the foundation of a new fast food restaurant category in Korea. No doubt one of the Korean chains — Sukbong Toast, Isaac Toast or Toastoa —will soon open a franchise on Long Point. – Robb Walsh

This week, in the process of reviewing Red Basil Thai Fusion Restaurant, we discovered lots of other Thai restaurants that have recently opened in the same West Houston neighborhood.

Why are so many new Thai restaurants opening in Houston?

For Sunday brunch at Sandy's Produce Market (see this week's Café), they cook omelets in virgin coconut oil. This seems strange since the medical community has always told us coconut oil is unhealthy. The debate about coconut oil is ongoing, but most of what's being written lately focuses on its health benefits.

So who is right? Anybody in the Houston medical community care to weigh in on the subject? -- Robb Walsh

The people who live in northeast Louisiana are a proud bunch, especially when it comes to food.

They just sent out an e-mail blast inviting food and travel writers to come along for a guided tour of the region’s delicacies.

“As a travel writer/editor, I am sure you have tasted many great foods,” the e-mail from the tourist bureau opens. “But I bet none are as great as what we are serving up here in Shreveport-Bossier City, Louisiana!”

I’ll take that bet, you might be thinking.

But then feast your eyes on the very first stop on the culinary tour, the Grand Opener that sets the table for things to come:

9:15 a.m.: Southern Maid Donuts in the Municipal Auditorium

Do tell. Nothing says “Shreveport-Bossier City cuisine” like a bunch of Southern Maid donuts, we guess.

We did learn two facts, though. One, the Municipal Auditorium “is known as the Cradle of the Stars,” and two, Southern Maid donuts are “the only product that Elvis Presley ever publicly endorsed throughout his entire career.”

Still, it’s one trip we think we’ll take a pass on, thanks. -- Richard Connelly

British Indian food is like Texas Mexican food -- a cuisine unto itself. British-Indian TV chef Manju Malhi coined the term “Brit-Indi” (an awkward nod to Tex-Mex) to describe this style of Indian cooking for the British kitchen. With her “10 Minute Curries” and utterly relaxed approach to Indian home cooking, the telegenic food authority might be described as a cross between Madhur Jaffrey and Rachel Ray. Her first cookbook, Brit Spice, was an attempt to demystify Indian cooking in the British Isles. Her latest tome, India with Passion, ventures into slightly more advanced territory.

This week, we review Brit-Indi restaurant Nirvana on Memorial. -- Robb Walsh

During Prohibition, Kemah was a town of ill-repute, a place where Houstonians could easily find alcohol, gambling and prostitution. The Edgewater Casino was the hub of the waterfront action. In 1950, a restaurant called Jimmie Walker's Edgewater Restaurant and Supper Club opened in the casino's lower floor. The casino was eventually closed by the authorities, but the restaurant stayed open catering to fishermen and boaters.

Kemah, which means "wind in the face" in the Karankawa language, sustained high winds and punishing waves during hurricane Alicia in 1983. Jimmie Walker's was among the businesses that were damaged. The restaurant was eventually purchased by Tilman Fertitta, who had just taken over the Landry's chain.

So my aunt Libby is in town from Atlanta with my two cousins, 13-year-old Kevin and 14-year-old Joshua. To celebrate, my grandparents took her family and mine – my wife Jacqueline, soon-to-be-11-year-old son John Henry and two-year-old daughter Harriet out for a Mexican meal. After some debate, we settled on Pico’s (5941 Bellaire), the “original Mex-Mex” restaurant on Bellaire in the heart of the Gulfton Ghetto.

We traveled in a convoy, and my family arrived before Libby, or Moe and Susy, my grandparents. We decided to sit outside in the palapa, which is well-ventilated and sports a view of, well, the pain management clinics, tire outlets and storage units of the Gulfton Ghetto. Outside with us were a large redneck family, a larger Tejano family, a table of trendy lesbians, and a group of people who looked like they worked for NASA. I wanted a margarita, and the waiter asked me if I wanted a small or medium, and of course I asked for the larger of the two. Which turned out to be the size of my head, which is an 8, but hell, better to have too much than too little.