On a recent visit to Houston, I had dim sum with my daughter and my siblings at Yum Yum Cha Cafe in Rice Village (2435 Times Blvd., 713-527-8455, no web site).   Dim sum, sometimes called “Chinese tapas,” are bite-size dumplings, buns or tofu filled with meat, seafood or vegetables. Houston’s Chinese food aficionados know that most of the city’s dim sum restaurants are clustered in the southwest area’s Chinatown, so Yum Yum Cha, nestled near the Museum District in the 610 Loop, is a rare find.  Even better, Yum Yum Cha also serves dim sum on weekdays and most evenings— traditionally, this diminutive treat is only served during weekend brunch-time. 

Also, I must confess that as a Cantonese Chinese-American, I don’t even care for dim sum that much!  (I’d sooner go for Spanish tapas!)   But I’ve gotta say Yum Yum Cha’s fresh and tasty delicacies live up to their name!  (By the way, “yum cha” means “to drink tea.”)   Besides over 50 dim sum items listed on the checklist menu where you place your order (much like old-school sushi houses), there are several fragrant teas to wash it down.  There is a menu “picture book” that shows each item, unlike the traditional rolling cart found in most dim sum restaurants, which stops at each table and you point at what you want.  Since the tiny restaurant holds less than a dozen tables with little aisle space, that’s a very good thing!

I ordered Nor Mai Guy (Sticky rice with chicken and bits of pork and shrimp wrapped in a fist-sized lotus leaf) and Yong Kai Jiu (Eggplant stuffed with shrimp), and also sampled my vegetarian daughter’s Ja To Fu (Fried Tofu with shrimp) and Jai Chong Fun (Vegetarian Rice Roll).  I wanted to try her So Chow Wall Tet (Vegetable Dumpling) and also my brother’s Hueng Sai Gau (Cilantro Shrimp Dumpling), but they were so delectable that there was none left on the plates by the time I got to them!  The portions are generally served 3-4 pieces to a plate, so they’re made for sharing (if you care to!).  The standout dish for me has to be the Yong Kai Jiu— the shrimp is wrapped around the eggplant with a fried, tempura-like coating for a crunchy-outside, buttery-soft inside texture.  I would definitely recommend the Nor Mai Guy for tamale lovers—it’s similar in composition.  Be sure to dapple on some chili sauce and a bit of soy sauce (both available at each table) for good measure!   

If you think dim sum in Rice Village might be pricey, the 10 dishes shared by our party of five totaled just over $26.00.  Houston’s sweltering summer heat didn’t entice us to take tea with our meal, but it wouldn’t have added more than a few dollars to the cost. One other item nixed due to weather that my sisters were tempted to order, jook, traditional Chinese rice porridge, is available on weekends. 

This past weekend, my husband and I made the trek up I-35 to visit relatives in Oklahoma, and we made several worthwhile stops along the way to break up the drive. I had been curious about the growing “Babe’s Chicken Dinner House” Texas franchise, and a billboard enticed us to stop at the Sanger location—in the historic downtown area— for a late lunch. Downtown Sanger, where 1880s buildings speak of the town’s glory days as a cattle-shipping hub on the Santa Fe Railroad, is experiencing a construction boom of sorts, but Babe’s was closed for a midday siesta. I poked my head into a candle-and-jewelry shop to ask for a dining recommendation, something local, something interesting.  

  The woman set aside her beadwork and asked me, “You like Italian food?”

“Yes, we do.”

“Then you gotta go to Joe’s.” She patted her belly. “I just had the manicotti, and let me tell you, it’s the best Italian food you’ll ever have in your life.”

  That sounded like a suggestion we couldn’t pass up. So we drove back to the main road (FM 455) and drove “just past the high school” to Joe’s Italian Restaurant, a nondescript structure that was probably a Taco Bell in another life. (The drive-up window is now boarded over and decorated with pizza boxes.)

  What the place lacks in décor, it more than makes up for in authenticity. We both got house salads, and we split a pepperoni roll and a spinach roll (kind of like stuffed pizzas), which came with a fresh-tasting, chunky marinara sauce. The cheese was hot and elastic, the dough chewy and yeasty—New York-style, carbo-licious goodness right in the middle of north Texas. We were glad we had a cooler in the car so we could take some home; if we had eaten the whole thing, we might have succumbed to post-prandial slumber in the middle of Fort Worth’s rush-hour traffic.

  This little joint was a welcome surprise. The best Italian food I’ve ever had? I wouldn’t say that. But it was certainly the best (and most unexpected) road-trip meal I’ve enjoyed in a long time. Joe’s is at 2800 FM 455 West in Sanger. Call 940/458-9125.

I have visited the Glen Rose area dozens of times over the years, but had never stopped at Dinosaur Valley State Park. But with a five-year-old rock hound/fossil fan in the family, we just couldn’t pass up the park last weekend.

The 100-degree heat must have warped our sensibilities, as we drove past the visitor center at the park entrance—past fiberglass models of a 70-foot Apatosaurus and a 45-foot T-Rex (great photo-ops)—and headed straight for the various track-viewing sites on the Paluxy River. The park map/brochure and information boards on site were helpful, but the river was somewhat murky and our track sightings few. It was still exciting to think of the therapods, sauropods, and duck-billed dinosaurs that had walked here before us. (Helpful—and painfully obvious—hint: Start at the visitors center, where a video, casts of tracks, maps, and other displays will help you get your bearings.) It’s interesting to note that some of the tracks are on view at the American Museum of Natural History in Washington, D.C.

We made our own footprints on the park’s wooded hiking trails, and my kiddo enjoyed splashing in the Paluxy with other swimmers. (Helpful hint: Bring a swimsuit and towel, or at least a dry change of clothes!)

For next time: Just outside the park entrance is the new (and huge) Dinosaur World, which features 100-plus life-size dinosaur replicas along a winding path, a museum, a fossil dig, and a picnic area. It’s fronted by a BIG gift shop (all we had time for)—think giant geodes, casts of T-Rex teeth and claws, and every dinosaur toy imaginable. We bought a cephalopod fossil and had to move on.

I’m always in search of dino-good times for my peewee paleontologist. Any suggestions?

In a recent blog, associate editor Marty Lange described an Austin scene like a Seurat painting come to life. I never thought of it that way, but it’s true. There are always so many people in any particular “scene” enjoying (and participating in) life in any number of ways. I think that’s a sign of a healthy community. It’s exactly what I love about it here. Even more so, it’s what I love about Texas.

I know other states have their share of picture-perfect moments, but I like to think Texans add an extra special aspect.
Marty’s scene reminded me of when I use to work in Downtown Houston, in the heart of its thriving Theater District. I could look out of my office window, especially on a Thursday or Friday evening, and find the same beautiful thing–an awesome mix of people all sharing the same space joyfully. I especially took note of a particular time when a flock of bikers poured into the Theater District for one of the weekly Party on the Plaza concerts. Within this square block crowded with people, there was a beautiful mix of luxury autos and decked-out pedestrians blended with the motorcycles complete with leather-clad riders. In my people watching, I admired the harmony of the scene, though none on the ground seemed to take note. It was business (or rather pleasure) as usual. An assured workforce heads home or to happy hour; bikers and a younger set flock to the outdoor concert; sequined and well-suited couples make their way to the Alley Theater, Wortham Center or Jones Hall; the club set heads for drinks and dancing, a studious group approaches the Angelika for an art house film fix; diners on café patios chatter about life and such; and any number of concert-goers file into the Bayou Theater for the concert du jour. All of this right outside my window.
The best part of it though was the moment I got to go down and be a part of it.

I’d love to hear others describe a scene from their communities. It’s the best way to get a feel for a place. What is your part of Texas like?

A few years ago, I joined a group that conducts surveys on the lower Colorado River. I joined partly to acquire volunteer hours for my Master Naturalist certification, but mostly because it combines birding and being near (and in) water—two of my favorite pasttimes.

On the survey we kayak (or canoe) different sections of the Colorado between Longhorn Dam on the east side of Austin to the Lost Pines Recreational Trail east of Bastrop. It’s a non-extreme paddling experience, which is fine by me. My kayaking skills are pretty basic and I can create plenty of excitement for myself simply by trying to stop the boat to “get” on a bird. This has probably provided some Lucille-Ball-style entertainment for many fishermen along the way.

Still, I love how quickly I can get away from urban Austin onto the quiet of the river. Being able to bird by ear comes in very handy on these trips, and seeing nature from that point of view has shown me a side of Central Texas that I never noticed before. You can find birds (as well as plants and animals) that aren’t often visible from the shore. Last Saturday, we spotted all three Kingfishers–the Belted is common in the Austin area, but we also regularly see the more rare Ringed and Green Kingfishers, as well. Bald Eagles and Osprey often make appearances. And fall and spring migrations are always full of surprises.

For the surveys, we’ve had to make some special arrangements for put ins or take outs, but there are parks along the river that provide easy public access. Little Webberville Park to Big Webberville Park makes a good starter trip.

For more information on paddling the Colorado, check out Texas Parks and Wildlife Department’s Web site.

It seems I have a lot to learn when it comes to the fine art of pit-mastering.

Last evening, I attempted to make Dr Pepper Barbecued Chicken, a recipe from John de Mers’ forthcoming book Follow the Smoke: 14,783 Miles of Great Texas Barbecue (Bright Sky Press). Dr Pepper enjoys a long tradition in Texas, having been invented around 1885 at Castle’s Old Corner Drug Store in Waco. Over the years, the drink has been advertised as an aphrodisiac—“It makes old men young, and restores vim, vigor, and vitality!” and as a stimulant—a “Tonic, Brain Food, and Exhilarant!”

So, it seemed pretty logical that the stuff would make a good barbecue sauce. Along with Dr Pepper, the recipe calls for lots of bacon, butter, and garlic—ingredients that could make an old boot gnaw-worthy. (The recipe follows.)

I feel confident in saying I mastered the sauce. But I failed the fire part. First of all, the coals were too hot when I put the chicken on, skin-side down, as suggested. After a few minutes of jolly sizzling—just as I was sipping a glass of wine and feeling proud of myself—the whole thing went up in flames. I did have a spray-bottle handy to extinguish the blaze, but the crispy, caramel-colored, succulent skin I envisioned had already been ruined.

But I kept basting, basting, basting, and basting with that luscious, bacony sauce. After about an hour, I figured the chicken was done, and it took it inside for a taste. The bits of skin that weren’t blackened disasters did indeed taste heavenly. But when I inserted a meat thermometer, it registered only 140 degrees. That’s 40 degrees shy of done and lodged securely in salmonella territory. Maybe the coals hadn’t stayed hot enough, long enough?

Saved by a few minutes in the microwave, the chicken tasted fine, and that sauce is a bona-fide winner—salty, sweet, lemony, garlicky, and fairly addictive. The Dr Pepper, I’m convinced, really put it over the top. I figure I’ll try this again and hone my skill at the grill. Anyone have any advice?

Dr Pepper Barbecued Chicken (from John de Mers’ forthcoming Follow the Smoke; 14,783 Miles of Great Texas Barbecue, Bright Sky Press; www.brightskypress.com)

¾ cup water

½ cup Worcestershire sauce

½ cup Dr Pepper

2/3 cup white vinegar

Grated peel of ½ lemon

3 slices bacon, chopped

2 tablespoons butter

½ tablespoon prepared mustard

1 teaspoon minced garlic

½ teaspoon celery salt

½ teaspoon salt

½ teaspoon black pepper

¼ teaspoon hot pepper sauce

4 chickens (about 1 ½ pounds each), cut in half

Additional salt and pepper

In a saucepan, combine the first 13 ingredients. Bring just to boil; reduce heat and simmer for 30 minutes. Meanwhile, season the chicken halves with salt and pepper. Place skin-side down on a hot grill. Brown on both sides, turning occasionally, for about 15 minutes. Continue to grill, brushing regularly with sauce, until a meat thermometer reads 180 degrees, about 45 minutes. Serves 8.

Whenever I have a rare burst of Saturday morning energy (and a craving for homemade soup or a special salad or stir-fry), I head over to Sunset Valley Farmers Market, just outside of Austin in Sunset Valley. Summer happens to be an especially favorite time for me to go, despite temps hovering close to 90 degrees by 11-ish, when I usually arrive there. Despite not getting there at the opening hour of 9 a.m., I can still find excellent selection. You see, I love making gazpacho, and there’s no place or time of year better to find homegrown, organic tomatoes—the key ingredient—than the farmers’ markets. I can also find fresh homegrown cucumber, onion, garlic and jalapenos—the supporting ingredients there. Plus, once you’ve cooked with garden-fresh garlic, store-bought never quite measures up.

Texas Highways ran a short piece on Austin’s Farmers Markets by Kitty Crider in the May Issue. Kitty, the longtime food editor of the Austin Amercian-Statesman who recently retired, wrote an excellent piece and gives some very helpful tips on how to enjoy your shopping trip. One of my favorites is to try to bring the right amount of cash you think you’ll need, though some markets have ATMs on-site. I like to try to make a game of it to see how much $10. will yield in fresh produce (Sunset Valley’s stalls also offer natural/grass-fed meats, eggs, cheeses, bakery items, and many other foods and items you wouldn’t expect to find in an outdoor market— you could almost do all your shopping here!) If I’m buying ingredients for one or two meals (and bring a list!) I usually stay within budget. Sometimes I miss my $10 mark when I add scones or gourmet sesame crackers, but since the money goes directly back to the growers and vendors it makes me feel good knowing I’m supporting local, sustainable-food suppliers.

The hustle-and-bustle of the crowds jostling for a place in line, or a space to peruse the goods, combined with the wonderful smells of fresh produce mixed with baked goods, remind me somewhat of the outdoor markets I visited while vacationing in Paris, only it’s much sunnier and hotter here. Carefully combing the baskets of squash and eggplant, the tables full of huge, vibrant tomatoes, armed with my trusty canvas bag slung over my shoulder, I imagine myself transported to one of those marchés, shopping for the daily meal instead of one or two large dishes that I hope will sustain me in the next day or two and in the freezer for later.

I recently enjoyed a fabulous weekend eat-athon in historic downtown Marble Falls—from tasty tapas and vino (and fun people-watching in a window seat) at The Falls Bistro & Wine Cellar, to the Shrimp and Grits at Patton’s on Main, to the lip-smackin’ (four-napkin) Big Chief Burger on a kaiser roll at the R Bar & Grill. (The grill is great for lunch and dinner, but it’s also a fine alternative for an inexpensive breakfast if the lines are long at the town’s justly popular Blue Bonnet Cafe.) Between meals, I indulged in browsing the galleries and shops along downtown’s six-block stretch, including the toy and kitchen boutiques at Old Oak Square, and the home furnishings at Canyon Trails and Attitudes With Style. In nearby Buchanan Dam, I made my usual stop at Sam’s Dam Ranch—at the intersection of FM 1431 and Texas 29—for plants, pottery, and the painted metal pigs and roosters from Mexico that have begun to take over my kitchen.

I’ve been giving my trusty Weber kettle grill a workout lately, and this past Sunday, I tried my hand at making the perfect sirloin steak—seared and slightly salty on the outside, pink in the middle, and tender and toothsome at the same time. While I prepared the grill, I remembered our June 1997 story on Tom Perini’s restaurant in Buffalo Gap, a popular place called the Perini Ranch Steakhouse, which has won kudos for its meat as well as its pecan-studded (and whiskey-laced) bread pudding. I remembered that we had published Tom’s recipe for his foolproof steak rub, and I searched for “Perini” on our Web site, www.texashighways.com. His steak rub recipe came right up.

It’s a simple combo: Mix together two teaspoons cornstarch, two teaspoons salt, two tablespoons black pepper, a half-teaspoon each of lemon pepper and ground oregano, four teaspoons each of garlic powder and onion powder, a teaspoon of paprika, and a teaspoon of beef-flavored bouillon granules. (I didn’t have lemon pepper, so I skipped that, and I didn’t have the beef-flavored bouillon granules, so I substituted chicken-flavored granules; this recipe—like most recipes—is flexible.)

Tom recommends rubbing steaks with the mixture 15 minutes before you cook them, and that’s what I did. My steaks were about an inch thick, and my husband and I like our steaks medium-rare, so I grilled them about 5 minutes on each side and let them rest 10 minutes before digging in. They were indeed perfect.

Tom, by the way, writes the foreword to a new book about Texas barbecue, John deMers’ Follow the Smoke, which should be out in September by Bright Sky Press. The book will take readers on a barbecue trek throughout Texas, stopping in more than 100 BBQ joints and sampling plenty of ‘cue classics. This weekend, maybe I’ll bring out the grill and try the book’s recipe for Dr Pepper Barbecued Chicken. I’ll keep you posted.

4^th of July fireworks displays never cease to give me a rush of excitement and ooh-and-ahh wonder. Despite the crowds and heat, I viewed this year’s spectacle from the Ann Richards/Congress Avenue bridge in Austin over Auditorium Shores. I fully expected the usual teeming crush of humanity, and was not disappointed.

Part of the show for me comes from observing the crowd, and the easy sense of camaraderie from the folks around me, including many families with small children. I take delight in hearing the kids’ tiny squeals and screams, almost as much as the ear-shattering booms looming ahead. From the bridge looking east, we could also see the massive pyrotechnics reflecting back from the Omni Hotel downtown—truly electrifying! People of all shapes, sizes and types were rushing by foot, bicycle and vehicle to pause and take in the spectacular show. A soldier in fatigues pushing a stroller with his wife close ahead passed me by. I was touched upon seeing them and felt grateful for them that he was home to celebrate with his family and the rest of us.

This was the first time I’ve come to see the fireworks “on-site” since I moved here exactly 26 years ago. Austin’s rolling hills allow for many excellent vantage points around town. Over the years, I’ve witnessed this mega light-show from hilltop residences and street corners to hi-rise buildings and parking garages—even the parking lot at Barton Creek Mall.

Back to scanning the crowd—I wondered how many were out-of-town visitors. I also have many fond memories of Texas town July Fourth fireworks displays while vacationing, from the bayfront in Corpus Christi, and from a condo balcony on South Padre Island. And of course, away from the city nothing beats lighting your own—for me it’s on the beach in Port Aransas.