calling "this economy." However, even the best-run luxury lifestyle
establishments, particularly those in fitness, food, and furniture, have
suffered recent reductions-in-force or closures, even in the upscale Galleria
and in the trendy, aggressively marketed and re-gentrified Houston Heights.
Whole Foods opening their brand of a high-end, self-described "ultimate"
shopping experience, located between Montrose and the Heights at this particular time. The land in Houston
hasn't really suffered, so it can't be an opportunity that they can't refuse on
the lot.
Hubble and Hudson, a handful of Rice
Epicureans, and HEB's latest crown jewel, Buffalo Market. All of these
groceries/restaurants play in the epicurean/green/organic market space.
were here, and why right now. Years ago, I'd been a customer of Whole Foods in
Austin, both at the North Lamar location and at Westgate, and found them to be
largely venues for a slacker/yuppie mix of posers with attitudes about what
makes a good kiwi or pomegranate. I
guess that no matter how right I was at that time, what I neglected to register
that they did, indeed, have kiwis and pomegranates, fresh ones.
opinions given new data, and surely enough, as the tour progressed, I had no
choice but to readjust those old stereotypes of Whole Foods. This place, or at
least our great town's latest incarnation of it, is a lot more than a
"luxury shopping experience"—that is, a place that simply stocks the
better or rarer items. Whole Foods represents a comprehensive commitment to genuinely
implement "green" in every aspect of their business.
but every packaged item, every bulk item, every fresh-made item, every prep
facility, and every sourcing practice. It also includes the architecture of the
building and even the physical plant, right down to the water reclamation
subsystem that provides the water for drinking, washing, cooling (even the meat
lockers) and landscaping.
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| Water reclamation system at Whole Foods |
used whenever available, and items are offered strictly when they are
available, on a seasonal basis. Local sourcing and seasonal offering
significantly reduces the business' carbon footprint in trucking transit and
long-term storage.
philosophy. This is the only place I know of that I could buy anything from a
box of cookies to a fresh-made deli sandwich from one of the many fresh-food
counters and not have to worry about consuming one gram of color additives, trans-fatty
acids, artificial sweetener, endangered animal, unsustainably-farmed grain,
stripped grain, or bleached grain.
offered in a beautiful, bright,
comfortable facility with an near-zero carbon footprint. Downside: no
double-stuff Oreos...
Similar in size to a Starbucks in other grocers, this is a separate business,
similar to how Panera bread shares space with Schlotzky's in Austin. The
Starbuck's-killing features here are the local roaster, and the availability of
some of the rarest coffees in the world. Now, these top-shelf brews are not
cheap, but they are appropriate and creative 21st-centruy alternatives to
bringing a bottle of wine to every holiday. Be forewarned however; the
"Dom Perignon" of coffees can run you $75/lb of roasted beans.
with the coffee shop seating. Both areas are equipped with wi-fi and feature
works by local artists. I didn't get any good shots of the art, sorry. One of
the more interesting interactive pieces is the "art vending" machine:
a converted 1960s cigarette machine that
makes original art placards, suitable for a coaster, for $5 apiece. It's all
similarly-appealing, non-threatening -but-still-occasionally-provoking, urban
fare.
freshly-prepared food area; I'm loathe to call it a "food court"
simply because of the images that that phrase recalls to me. The Whole Foods
version as the deli, Italian, pizzas, bistro, olive bar, extreme dry-rub
barbecue with ready-to-go, all-organic briskets, and then the perfunctory salad
bar and premade cold fare. This area is so huge you might even be able to
navigate your cart through on a Sunday, which believe me, is going to be
pa-aaaa-aaaked.
remain:
Peanut butter grinding. This is a station where you can grind and jar
your own peanut, almond, or cashew butter.
Bulk area includes barbecue rubs and seasonings,
including a tethering system that discourages "scooper-sharing" from
container-to-container, a big pet-peeve of mine.
Wine bar, conveniently located right by the
cheese counter, that opens at 8am, which, oh, BTW, offers 24 beer taps. I'm
thinkin', if you take advantage of this amenity, you may want to bring a designated
driver AND shopper.
associates. Any specialist in any area is always happy to tell you about how
they achieve their quality and how they're doing things differently, and their
sense of ownership and pride is obvious. This point perhaps illustrates the
difference in the Whole Foods experience that I realized that day: Everyone,
every facility, every practice, spoke with one voice, one message—and that is
the hallmark of the most successful ventures in the world.
iPad-addicted, Croc-clad hipster clones, but if you're someone who takes your
green commitment beyond the purchase of a Prius, beyond whining on political
blogs, into actual practices in your life, then this is your store. You are why
Whole Foods is expanding; you are the niche I didn't see before.
maybe we don't have enough. They're not a player in the luxury grocery space at
all: their product is a slice of a relevant, green lifestyle, from the food
itself (no additives, organic) to how they get it there (local, seasonal
growers) to how they offer it (green outlet architecture and engineering).
doesn't just talk the talk.
If you've been following this blog, you might have noticed that I have a thing for cheeseburgers. I travel far and wide trying to find the best burgers around, trying to visit all the new or undiscovered spots that could be hiding the next great burger.
But a Houston burger lover has to keep his scale calibrated. For a long time, discussion of the best burger in Houston revolved around two places: Lankford Grocery, and the subject of today's post, Christian's Totem. (They've since opened a second location and rebranded themselves as Christian's Tailgate, but I use the older name to refer to the original I-10 location.)
After a 15-minute wait, I was still sans-burger, so I walked up to the counter to see how much longer it would be. "Five more minutes" I was told, and my burger appeared shortly thereafter.
The burger featured a slightly thickish hand-formed patty, griddled and topped with melting American cheese, just how I remembered it. But closer inspection revealed that it was missing was Christian's near-perfect ooze, an ominous sign. The patty was only slightly moist, and the cheese was only slightly melty.
Biting into the burger was a bit disappointment
The beef's flavor was completely unremarkable; the bold rich beefy flavor that's a hallmark of the best burgers was absent. The beef had been cooked more than a bit too enthusiastically; it was uniformly grey all the way through. And the half-melted cheese congealed quickly, and had an unremarkable flavor and texture. The generic bun, which had been griddled to a golden brown on my last visit, was only slightly warmed, and rather mushy.
Saving graces were the nicely fresh vegetables; the snap of the lettuce demonstrated just how fresh it was. But that wasn't enough to save this iconic burger.
If I had been served this burger at Whataburger, I'd have been pleasantly surprised. But this was Christian's, named by many (myself included) among the best burgers in Houston.
This burger simply didn't measure up. It is with great sadness that I remove Christian's from the list of Houston's Best Burgers.
Five years ago, Christian's served the benchmark Houston burger. But the current version was a mere shadow of what had been. At the same time, upstarts like Hubcap Grill, Beaver's Icehouse, and Samba Grille have advanced the burger game considerably. Heck, even the out-of-town SmashBurger chain now has a superior product.
The best burger in Houston is a moving target, and sadly Christian's is moving in the wrong direction. This is the second legendary Houston burger joint that disappointed me, and I hope this trend reverses very soon.
For many chefs, owning a restaurant is the ultimate dream. Extending one's vision beyond the plate is a big step, but expertise in the kitchen doesn't necessarily translate into success at the front of the house. We're always excited to see a chef take this big step, but in many cases, we have to wonder if it is a wise one.
Enter Jaime Zelko. She'd won numerous awards for her work as Executive Chef at Bistro Lancaster, and her cuisine drew high praise from patrons. When she announced that she was opening her own place in the Heights, we were looking forward to seeing what would come forth from this creative mind.
She teamed up with Jeb Stuart, who spent five years as Chef at the nearby Shade restaurant, but wanted to step away from the kitchen and focus on the world of wine. She also tapped into family expertise, in the form of her father and uncle, partners in the 50-year-old Zelko Brothers Cabinet and Fixture Company. A fortuitous convergence, since a rather rough 1920's bungalow on 11th Street was selected as the location for the bistro.
Of course, you'd never know that now. The bungalow has been converted into a welcoming space, with the kitchen nestled in the rear, and the main room split by a dividing wall, creating a cozy dining room and a funky bar, complete with mason jar lights. Historic black-and-white photography decorates the walls, and the space is very successful, conveying a down-home comfort with an upscale twist.
Coming in at the start of lunch, we snagged a table, and were greeted by the friendly staff. We immediately noticed a couple of touches we really liked: An arrangement of fresh rosemary on every table, and water service that includes a bottle left at the table. Shortly thereafter we were delivered a unique bread service: Torn pieces of sweet, herby bread, something we rarely find in restaurants. We had to hold ourselves back to keep from devouring every bite.
We'd heard great things about the Boss Burger at Zelko Bistro, so it wasn't a hard choice, although several of the menu's varied comfort food offerings were also calling our names. We ordered the Boss, and when asked how we'd like it cooked, we left it at Jaime's discretion. (We've learned not to second-guess the chef in this situation.)
What arrived was a very impressive-looking half-pound burger, worthy of its name. Served on a thick, airy housemade bun, the patty was obviously hand-formed and sporting an aggressive char. It was topped with a thick slice of cheddar cheese, grilled onions, and shredded iceberg lettuce. Pickles were on the side, and the tomatoes were omitted at my request.
Biting into it revealed a perfectly cooked burger, slightly on the rare side of medium. The ooze factor was well represented; I found myself using the napkin after every bite. The flavor of the beef was rich and mild, the cheddar was smooth, and the caramelized onions added a hint of sweeness. The only flaw was that it was perhaps too mild; a bit more of a bold, beefy flavor would not have been a bad thing. But make no mistake - this is an excellent burger, and one that we would be happy to enjoy again. We've added it to our list (on the sidebar at the right) of Houston's Best Burgers.
We walked away from Zelko Bistro thinking that Jaime and Jeb had a hit on their hands. They've nailed the concept of a comfortable but upscale neighborhood place, and put it in a neighborhood that craves this sort of comfort food. Combine the smart positioning with the beautiful room and Chef Zelko's deft touch in the kitchen, and we expect Heights residents to be enjoying the Zelko Bistro for a very long time.
Zelko Bistro - 705 E 11th Street - Houston - 77008 - 713-880-8691 - ZelkoBistro.com
Hubcap Grill, one of downtown Houston's best burger spots, has a new way to extend its reach. Following the lead of successful cooks in Houston and Austin, they've gone mobile, with the Hubcap Grill Burger Truck.
The truck will be circulating around town, hitting the Montrose, Washington Avenue, and Heights areas. They'll be working both lunch and dinner.
UPDATE: Second visit to Beaver's
Over the next days, we kept thinking about that delicious burger, and wondered if it was really as good as it seemed. Beaver's isn't one of the usual suspects mentioned for the best burgers in Houston, and perhaps we just hit them on a great night.
So, in the interest of science, we returned over the weekend for a late lunch, and ordered the burger.
We were not disappointed. We were again blown away by the superb combination of meats in the patty; this time, armed with the knowledge of the ingredients, we were able to appreciate the individual flavors even more.
We tried to recall a burger we enjoyed more. Even the legendary Christian's Totem paled in comparison.
Folks, we have a new champion for Best Burger in Houston: Beaver's. Congratulations to Jonathan Jones and his staff for raising the bar even higher in America's best burger town.
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We enjoy great BBQ. And we love a great burger. We've been hearing good buzz about Beaver's for months, especially since Chef Jonathan Jones took over the helm there, so we ventured out on one of the first cool nights of fall, perfect for BBQ.
Tucked away off Washington Avenue, Beavers was very easy to find. We parked and ventured in to a very cozy setting: Funky, modern, warm and comfortable. Immediately we were grabbed by the laid-back vibe; the feel was vintage Austin before it became too self-conscious.
We settled in at the bar (seemed appropriate here) and perused the menu. Both my dining companion and I decided to sample the Beaver Burger - he was taken by the description, and I'd been wanting a good burger for days.
It was a great decision.
The Beaver Burger is a hand-formed patty of ground sirloin, ground brisket, and bacon. It is cooked to order (the chef had no problem with medium rare, a situation which is, um, rare these days) and was perhaps the juiciest burger we've sampled in Houston. Topped with a very nice white cheddar (maintaining a superb beef/cheese ratio) the patty is perched on an excellent eggy Kraftsmen bun, and topped with very interesting veggies, including house-pickled carrots, cauliflower, and cucumbers. (We ate these veggies on the side.) At $9 it's a steal.
The result was nothing short of spectacular. The bun held up well to the supremely juicy patty, and its slightly sweet flavor was an excellent counterpoint to the savory meat, smooth, creamy cheese, and tangy purple onions. Clearly this was a burger designed by a chef who understand how to meld a variety of flavors into a whole that is greater than the sum of its excellent ingredients.
Beavers may very well have great BBQ, but I fear we'll never try it, because we already want to go back for another one of these superb burgers.
Beaver's - 2310 Decatur Street 77007 - 713-854-BEAV - beavershouston.com
Houston is one of the nation's great food towns, and we're fortunate enough to have many great restaurants at a variety of price points. And unlike the restaurant scene in many towns, Houston's is driven by its great restaurateur families, not by its great chefs. The Vallone, Mandola, Cordua, Pappas, and Goode families are examples of those who set the course of the Houston restaurant scene, and have been doing so for years.
For these families, customer service comes first. It's not about ego, it's about business, and establishing a long-term relationship with their patrons.
A recent review in the Houston Press made me shudder at the alternative. Katharine Shilcutt's "The Tastes of Textile" was a fascinating look into a much hyped restaurant that's one of the rare ones in Houston - the chef is the personality behind it, for better and for worse.
Textile is Scott Tycer's latest venture, and Houston foodies were eagerly anticipating this talented chef's next moves after the closings of his previous ventures, Aries and Pic. In Shilcutt's review, it's obvious that Chef Tycer is on his game (with a couple of notable exceptions) when it comes to the food, but it also shows the problem of letting a huge ego in the kitchen run the show.
The article mentioned that Aries, the highly regarded Tycer fine dining venture, was closed in a fit of pique. Stories about Tycer's temper have run through Houston food circles, so few are suprised by this.
And in this latest venture, Tycer's shadow seems to be looming over the dining room, and not necessarily in a good way. Shilcutt writes:
"...but there seemed to be an odd undercurrent of apprehension in the restaurant. The palpable nervousness of the staff, coupled with almost clinical service, made for a very uneven meal: The food was very good, but I was almost afraid to enjoy it."
No matter how wonderful the food, a restaurant lives and dies by the entire dining experience. And a staff that is scared of the chef's reactions aren't going to be able to provide a great experience, as Shilcutt describes:
"Staff spoke in hushed voices, and interactions were limited. My dining partner and I were eager to know about the laconic wine list, the cocktails prepared at the potent-looking bar and the provenance of certain ingredients. Our inquiries were met with polite yet quiet and restrained answers while the staff almost imperceptibly continued to glance over their shoulders towards the looming kitchen door. The maitre d' solemnly recited the ingredients of each dish as it was presented as though he were dictating a crime scene."
What a contrast to the warm, genial service we've come to expect at high-end Houston restaurants.
"I wasn't able to finish the large piece of pork tenderloin, and left a scant bite on my plate. As the busboy cleared our plates away, the sommelier caught sight of the morsel I'd left behind. He whispered curtly to the busboy to clear that piece of food off the plate before he took it back into the kitchen so that Chef Tycer wouldn't see it. This eavesdropped conversation only served to underscore the nerves that everyone seemed to be feeling that evening."
Ouch. We have little doubt that Tycer will find his groove in the kitchen; the man has serious culinary chops. But it seems that Textile is yet another Tycer venture where his diva attitude overshadows his superb skills.
I can't ever remember reading about this sort of problem at a non-Tycer restaurant in Houston.
Perhaps this is the reason that Tycer's ventures tend to shine brightly then crash and burn; do patrons really want to dine in a room where everyone is on edge, in fear of the next outburst from the boss?
Someburger is the classic walk-up hamburger stand that's miraculously survived into the 21st century.
It's another blast from the past: Old-school thin-patty hamburgers, lovingly prepared on a classic flat griddle. All the usual toppings are available, and they're fresh and tasty.
The staff at Someburger are great; many have been there for years. These folks know burgers, and take pride in what they do. And it shows.
Sides are quite good: Best are the onion rings, which are fried properly, only slightly greasy, and have a nice snap to them.
There's no dining room, but there are a handful of picnic tables outside the hamburger stand. Many folks choose to eat in their vehicles, especially during a hot Houston summer.
By today's standards, the burgers are downright cheap. $6 buys a burger, fries, and a Coke, and a slice of Texas history to boot.
Someburger is another place that every Houston burger lover needs to try for himself. I'll bet you go back again and again.
Someburger: 745 E 11th St, Houston, 77008, 713-862-0019
This, my friends, is a serious burger.
This unassuming Texas icehouse, located on I-10 inside the Loop, has been grilling a spectacular burger for years. It's arguably the best in Houston.
A great burger starts with the meat, and Christian's is superb. It's moist and tender, but not dripping with grease... the ooze factor is just about perfect. The meat has a nice char-grilled flavor, and it's complemented by wonderful fresh vegetables. The bun is browned on the grill; nothing fancy, but it completes the burger with zen-line balance.
This is a big burger. The single fills me up easily; the double should be reserved for professional athletes who are breaking training.
Christian's doesn't skimp on the fries, either. They're well-cooked, crisp on the outside and tender inside; again, just right.
If you're a burger fan, and haven't tried Christian's, go right now. We'll wait 'till you get back and tell us about it.
Christian's Totem: 7340 Washington Ave, Houston, 77007, 713-864-9744