Houston's 10 most memorable meals of 2022, from Alison Cook - Houston Chronicle
It's one thing to make a list of the best dishes I've encountered in a year of Houston restaurant-going. They stand out in my mental landscape like mighty sequoias, impossible to miss, or to mistake.
Picking the year's most memorable meals, though…that's a subtler enterprise, engaging an entire sensibility about what makes a restaurant experience click. Great food may be the bedrock, but hospitality, a distinctive vibe or a strong sense of place can all factor in. So can the company, or a sharp sense of discovery and surprise.
All of those qualities and more figured in my choices during a year when the Houston restaurant world was still reinventing itself in the wake of the pandemic. To my surprise, nearly half my list reflected a new reality in which pop-up dinners, special events and book-ahead evenings staged on just a few days a week have entered the mainstream of our dining life.
Once, I might have complained about having to jump though all those hoops. Now, I'm delighted to have hoops worth jumping through — along with a freewheeling variety of more conventional restaurant experiences that once again made me glad to live here.
GUIDE: Houston's Top 100 restaurants
1. Alrawshe Grill
"Where has this dish been all my life?" I asked my well-traveled friend Chris Frankel as I dove into the plate of kochari he had suggested. "It's the national dish of Egypt," he had told me. "They even eat it for breakfast."
I could imagine why: never have I encountered such a wildly savory, glorious mess of carbs. Kochari (also spelled koshari) rises up in a layered mound of rice, lentils, spaghetti, elbow macaroni (stay with me here), spicy tomato sauce, chickpeas and a tangle of fried onions. You splash on garlic vinegar and hot sauce from two tall cruets, mix it all up and gobble away. I couldn't get enough of the stuff.
Aside from my new kochari fixation, I came away charmed by the welcoming Syrian couple who bought this unprepossessing Katy cafe from its Egyptian founders. They were the soul of warm hospitality. They've kept the Egyptian dishes that pepper the more generic Mediterranean fare. When I asked about ful, the fava bean dish I didn't see on the wall menu, presto, an impromptu tart salad version appeared. Little scimitar-shaped sausages called mombar contained enough rice to quality as Egyptian boudin, and they jumped to life when dipped birria-style into a lively red broth.
I've thought of that lunch often. It was a prime example of the way she who is willing to comb the far-flung corners of our metropolis can travel without ever leaving home. The last few years have made that option doubly precious.
811 Mason Rd., No. 148, Katy, 281-717-4339; alrawshemediterranean.com
2. Burger Bodega
The original Double Smash Burger at Burger Bodega
Michael MaSitting in solitary splendor on the roof deck at Burger Bodega, I felt like the queen of all I surveyed. The sun was setting over Washington Avenue. Vintage Houston hip-hop issued from hidden speakers. And that was before I sank my teeth into the year's most exciting new Houston burger: a smashed-patty marvel of edges so frizzly they cascaded from the bun like some fractal waterfall.
I enjoyed every single thing about that first visit to chef and Instagram influencer Abbas Dhanani's vision of a modern burger shack. That expertly calibrated double-double cheeseburger, a textural marvel. The beefy aroma that greeted me on the sidewalk. The amusing signage ("Hot Takes for Sale"). The chrome yellow chairs beneath scallops of canvas awning.
And oh, those essence-of-Houston milkshakes — Vietnamese coffee and mango lassi flavors, each made with local ice cream. All served up in a joyful, street-arty room with the kind of customer care that's rare in a semi-serve joint.
4520 Washington Ave., 346 293-8909; burgerbodega.com
3. Golfstrommen kitchen takeover by chef Tom Cunanan of Soy Pinoy
I left this eight-course tasting at Post Market's sustainable seafood mecca convinced that Cunanan is the best chef that Houston diners haven't heard of — yet. He ran the lauded Bad Saint in D.C., which played off his Filipino family roots, before closing it during the pandemic and relocating to Houston. Here he opened fast-food kiosk Soy Pinoy in downtown's sprawling Post food hall.
Cunanan brought all his considerable skills to bear on the special menu he conceived and then executed with the help of Golfstrommen lead Paul Qui and chef Gabe Medina, both of whom bring their Filipino heritage to bear in their work.
I'll never forget the oceanic wave of flavor from the tinapa opener, a tiny cone of smoked fish, anchovy and caviar; or the suave, vegetal surprise of labanos, which set breakfast radish against burnt coconut and pistachio. Clam laksa sang with the deep fish paste called bagoong, and Cunanan's interpretation of ukoy — a network of airily fried soft shell crab and root vegetables with a spicy vinegar dip — pretty much blew my mind.
Getting to sit at the counter overlooking Golfstrommen's kitchen made it all the more exciting. I've sat there for some of the other memorable kitchen takeovers Golfstrommen hosts, most notably when chef-partner Christopher Haatuft, of Norway's Lysverket restaurant, pops in for a visit. I left hoping Cunanan will find the backing to do more such high-caliber work. It would be a boon to Houston's dining scene.
Golfstrommen and Soy Pinoy, Post Market, 401 Franklin; golfstrommen.com and yosoypinoy.com
4. Hamsa
Grilled branzino with fennel salad at Hamsa
Annie Mulligan/ContributorI end up feeling buoyant whenever I eat at this young modern Israeli restaurant from the brain trust at Doris Metropolitan. That was especially true when I dined there with a couple of good friends I hadn't seen in too long. The more the merrier here, the better to graze through a flock of the vivid little dips and salads called salatim, calling for yet another round of pillowy pita orbs hot from the wood oven.
Then you can go on to more, and more, and more. A soft swoon of whole Baladi Eggplant, set off by tahini, pine nuts, tomato and parsley. A drop-dead tenderloin skewer basted with z'aatar sumac butter. A masterfully executed whole grilled branzino, subtly smoky from a final brief turn in the Josper oven, set astride a sparkling fennel salad.
There's a final good reason to dine here with friends: that way you can share a bottle of rosé from the revered Chateau Musar family winery in the Bekaa Valley. It's as striking as Hamsa's food.
Hamsa, 5555 Morningside Dr., 281-612-3515; hamsahtx.com
5. Cambodian New Year's dinner at Koffeteria
Koffeteria owner Vanarin Kuch's mother, Sokha Bakken, and his aunt, Ky Vouch, helped prepare the dishes at the bakery's Cambodian New Year's dinner.
Alison Cook / Alison CookWhat made this special dinner event so memorable was the warmth, style and culinary know-how of chef Vanarin Kuch's family members. His mother, Sokha Bakken, and aunt Ky Vouch were on hand, dressed in shimmering Cambodian formal wear, to welcome guests to Kuch's inventive midcentury modern EaDo bakery/cafe.
Both women garden to grow ingredients traditional for Cambodian cuisine. They ferment and home-pickle to produce accents like the mustard greens and bean sprouts used as accents at the 10-course feast, and they explained each dish in wonderfully personal detail as it arrived, moving from guest to guest and answering questions. Vouch, a dedicated angler who knows all the best Gulf Coast spots near Houston, uses part of her catch to ferment into prahok, the supercharged Cambodian fish sauce.
From papaya salad thrumming with sea tang to savory beef stew laced with frilly curls of tripe, It all made for a fascinating, lively meal that reminded me how much — after a lifetime of chasing new culinary thrills — I still have to learn, and to taste. And for the first time, I felt I understood what a deep well of culinary tradition Kuch draws on in his brilliant, contemporary work.
Koffeteria, 1110 Hutchins St., no phone; koffeteria.com
6. Louie's Italian American
Pasta with clams at Louie's Italian American restaurant
Lindsey Cooper-Trevino and Sergio TrevinoSheer nerves made my first dinner momentous at the re-conceptualized version of a favorite Near East End all-day cafe. I loved the morning pastries and espresso drinks at charming Cafe Louie. And the noontime salads and sandwiches. Not to mention the soulful handmade pasta dishes that cropped up at dinner time as brother-sister team Lucianna ("Louie") and Angelo Emiliani expanded their menu.
Would a reboot into a dinner-only contemporary Italian-American joint continue to ring my bells? Well, yes, to my relief. From resonant dry-aged beef meatballs to an antipasti salad platter featuring interesting house-pickled vegetables and onwards, I stayed engaged and happy.
Ribbons of house-made tagliolini came glossed in cultured butter and swathed with prosciutto sliced so thin they were like translucent feathers of pure umami. Tajarin, a regional species of spaghetti, came alla vongole with clams, mussels (by Sunday night, the kitchen seemed to have run short on clams) and a tart, wine-y bounce.
Louie's version of chicken parm is nothing short of gripping, with high-quality bird, gently treated, and lush garlic confit strewn over the spunky tomato sauce and cheese. I've never been interested in chicken parm, but I am now.
And hello, I can't forget to tell you about the $6-a-glass red house wine that's a worthy foil to pricier bottle-and-glass choices. Or the dangerously quaffable frozen Negronis. OK, I missed the cool graphic chic of the cafe, now replaced by trappings of cozy grandma nostalgia. But days later, I was back devouring that remarkable prosciutto-clad tajarin and chicken parm again.
Louie's Italian American, 3401 Harrisburg Blvd., 346-446-5770; louieshtx.com
7. Moon Rabbit
What makes my first lunch at Moon Rabbit so memorable was the stark contrast with my second lunch. That happens sometimes in the unscientific pursuit of evaluating restaurants. Between one visit and another, the chef may or the lead line cook may call in sick. Or you may arrive on a day when the B team is scheduled. There are a hundred things that can make a first exuberant impression evaporate.
So it happened when I took a visiting restaurant writer to Moon Rabbit. "There's a Vietnamese chef playing off a Mexican chef, and it works!" I told him excitedly.
But wait, what had happened to the crackly Banh Xeo Tostada I had loved so much? The coconut crema on the rice paper's cargo of shrimp salad lacked its magical, elusive tang. And the claypot cod I had found so entrancing, so pearly and deftly cooked, so worth its $21 price tag? It had lost its luster. The fish was overcooked, its deeply caramelized sauce sweeter and more one-dimensional than before.
That's the kind of thing that keeps a food writer humble. And keeps the recollection of that first high-wire experience even more vivid.
Moon Rabbit, 605 W. 19h St., 713-684-3991; moonrabbithtx.com
8. Neo collaboration dinner with Alex Bremont
The north-of-$260 expense and the competitive process of online booking made me drag my feet getting to one of the seasonal omakase dinners staged by co-chefs Luis Mercado and Paolo Justo. Both Uchi veteran, the two produce 18-course tasting menus, their sushi-and-beyond approach featuring fish they cure in-house, for eight guests at a time. They do two seatings per night, just a couple of days a week, at a dramatic Montrose boutique owned by their friend and business partner, Jeremy Truong.
A smart friend snagged seats for a special Neo collaboration with Mexico City's Alex Bremont, who was head chef at the celebrated Pujol for five years. Not to put too fine a point on it, I was blown away. By the dramatic setting. By Truong's hospitality as host and facilitator. By the intimacy of eight seats set around a horseshoe kitchen set-up that allowed a view of the three chefs at work. By the incandescent quality of the fish and shellfish.
But most of all, I was impressed by the way Bremont, Mercado and Justo played off each others' ideas and repertoires during our 14 courses, which flew by in a flash and left me — improbably — hungry for more. The vibrant ease in the way Mexican ingredients and Japanese techniques interlocked seemed inevitable rather than forced — a true collaboration in which the whole emerged far greater than the sum of the parts.
Years from now, I'll still be thinking about that abalone taco, and that ice cream dessert cloaked in flying-ant (chicatana) caramel. Worth every penny.
Neo, 1711 Indiana St., by reservation only at www.exploretock.com/glasscypress/event/365087
9. Taste of Texas
Taste of Texas is decorated with co-owner Nina Hendee's new and antique Christmas artifact collection for the holidays.
Yi-Chin Lee/Staff photographerMy mind boggled at this 45-year-old west Houston steakhouse, and not just because they trot out a warehouse full of vintage and contemporary Christmas decor when the holidays roll around.
Taste of Texas felt like a window on another world, one in which salad bars reigned supreme and Choice beef (like the restaurant's custom Angus cuts) had not been kicked to the curb in favor of stratospherically priced U.S.D.A. Prime. My dinner was fine, but getting a peek at a churchy, wood-paneled, Norman Rockwell vision of bygone Houston was unforgettable.
Taste of Texas. 10505 Katy Fwy., 713-932-6901; tasteoftexas.com
10. Tatemó
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