Audio By Carbonatix
Some winter, huh? I’m wearing short sleeves and it’s still February. That means we’re going to be eating peaches a little sooner, so long as a hard frost doesn’t come in and burn those little blossoms.
Before you get out there and enjoy the beautiful weekend weather (I’m ready for some patio drinking), we’ve got a week to wrap up. Is anyone still hungry? How is that possible?
This week I ditched the traditional review to run a detailed study on my rampant gluttony. We ate some tacos, too. Boutique tacos and Tex-Mex tacos mostly, but we also asked Pecan Lodge to make up a dream taco, and they did. Some readers were very upset that we neglected the city’s taquerias, but we write about them all the time. This was about bastardization, baby, and no one bastardizes regional Mexican food quite like Texans.
Elsewhere on City of Ate, we talked to Tim Byres about an upcoming fried chicken joint I’m looking forward to checking out. We also did some first lookin’ at the OcaTaco.
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I threw the gauntlet down on Justin Bitner, and he ate the whole thing — the Nooner was nothing according to the ‘Wich jurist. And the Cheap Bastard got all sandwichy, too. She’s not so into Uber’s name, but she digs their food.
Hey, have you ever had Fernet? Check out Whitney’s piece and then go down some.
Elsewhere in the Dallas food scene, Leslie Brenner awarded Oak four stars. Nearly everything I’ve heard about the place reads real nice. I should check it out soon.
On Side Dish, the Place at Perry’s seduced Carol Shih, and Nosh seduced Andrew Chalk and many, many pretty pictures ensued.
Apparently that Daniel Vaughn guy that everyone talks about got a book deal. Dude, congratulations. If there was ever a harder working indy food blogger I’m not sure I’ve seen him. And meanwhile he’s still cranking out reviews.
I saw this on BigDFoodTrucks and thought we were getting food via a Harley Davidson. It’s just potatoes, though.
But if you do have a Harley, or anything else with two wheels, it’s going to be a great weekend to twist the throttle. Cool enough for leather, warm enough to ditch the gloves.
