Bijoux diners win whether they root for Sooner or Longhorns
Good restaurants are an extension of the owner’s personality. Great restaurants are a piece of the collective soul.
Scott and Gina Gottlich don’t have the ego to presume they’re producing some of Dallas’ finest foods without the focus and commitment of an entire staff.
Scott told me when people enter Bijoux, he wants them to feel like they’re in his home.
Scott’s home is a commune. A sophisticated, beautiful, unpretentious commune that celebrates great food and wine.
The former OU wrestler and his sommelier wife have achieved in a short time what many chefs and restaurateurs will work a lifetime to achieve and still fall short.
That’s a result of putting God-given talent together with the skills one has accrued, not taking people for granted and dropping the attitude.
This is a place where you’ll spend anywhere between $60 to $150 per person and feel lucky to have had the opportunity to do so.
I had the good fortune to eat at the Gottlich commune with my 12-year-old son, Luke.
The restaurant serves meals in either 3, 5 or 9 courses. The amount of food you will ingest doesn’t increase greatly with the number of courses chosen.
We opted for the 3-course. Luke ordered Sweet Corn Agnolotti, and I Pan-Seared Prawns.
Sweet Corn Agnolotti from Bijoux in Dallas.
Luke’s agnolotti was filled with sweet corn, kissed with hazelnut butter and danced with Parmigiano-Reggiano and truffle shavings. My prawns were entwined over caramelized onions, roasted mushrooms and Spanish chorizo. They were rich and spicy, reaching deep into my diaphragm to draw up a slow, smooth, “mmmmm.”
Pan-seared prawns.
But Luke’s pasta was inspired. He’d never eaten anything remotely close to it, and didn’t stop talking about it for a week, despite the fact that he didn’t know how to pronounce it. While his young palate perhaps wasn’t prepared for the wonder of shaved truffles, mine was thankful for it. Hard to imagine that such small morsels are capable of a thermonuclear event of flavor.
We also sampled the Crispy Pork Belly. It came with frisee, tomato fondue and stone ground mustard, but it didn’t really matter. Luke took one bite, and the look on his face was all that was necessary.
“It kind of squirted when I bit into it,” he tried to explain. “And it was sooo good.”
Crispy pork belly, or Flavorstralia.
Yeah, we’re talking about a really big hunk of bacon-ness. If flavor were a planet, this dish was one its continents. Australia, maybe.
For the second course, I chose Long Island Duck Breast, Luke chose Roasted Filet of Beef.
Long Island duck breast.
The duck was beautifully prepared with carrot, fingerling potato and raspberries. Being a breast, it was lean and lacked the punch of the pork belly, so it might’ve been a mistake on my part to choose it to follow. Luke’s filet stood up to the pork belly and, in the manor of the great Calvin Ebby LaLoosh, announced its presence with authority.
Roasted filet of beef.
The haricots verts were crisp and fresh, the truffled potato puree rich but not as much as the veal jus that surrounded the island.
For dessert, Luke chose the Glazed Chocolate Tart, and I the Ice Cream Sandwich. Luke wasn’t talkative, so I was concerned he was disappointed. When I asked him about it, he told me it was the best chocolate he’d ever tasted.
Glazed chocolate tart.
And it’s no wonder, considering the thick almost gelatinous layer of chocolate that formed a shell over the tart and the surrounding red berry coulis, pistachio and chocolate ice cream that accompanied it.
While Luke’s dessert might’ve been more decadent and delicious than my dessert, there’s no arguing that mine was more ingenious. A playful take on a kid’s favorite, white chocolate macadamia cookies served as buns for the ice cream and was served with a tiny mug of “root beer float” with amaretto syrup. While I liked Luke’s more, I’m thankful I got to see a genius’s interpretation.
If you’re in Dallas for the Red River Rivalry this weekend, you can’t lose by choosing Bijoux for dinner.
Bijoux's ice cream sandwich with root beer float.
The menu changes daily, so you won’t be able to match this meal. However, the interpretation you are in for might just exceed it. Having gotten to know Scott and Gina, I’d be surprised if it didn’t.
Chicken Parmigiana
Chicken Parmigiana is a great recipe for beginners to Italian cooking.
New to Italian cooking? This is the perfect dish to get you started: chicken, batter, sauce, cheese — everybody’s happy. Whether you call it sugo, ragu or marinara, simple Italian-style tomato sauce ensures moisture, panko gives it some crunch and two kinds of cheese make it that rich and creamy element that make it a mainstay on Italian menus worldwide.
Serve with steamed vegetables and either a tossed green salad or Caesar.
Don’t forget crusty Italian bread, sopping is a must.
Recipe: Chicken Parmigiana
Ingredients
- 4-6 boneless, skinless chicken breasts, pounded flat.
- 1 to 1-1/2 cups tomato sauce
- 2 cups flour
- 4-6 six eggs, beaten
- 1 to 1-1/2 cups Italian-style panko crumbs. (I like Ian’s)
- 1 to 2 cups mozzarella cheese
- 1/2 to 1 cups fresh grated parmesan cheese
- Salt, pepper and garlic powder to taste
- 3-4 tablespoons pure olive oil
- 1/2 cup Chopped Italian Parsley
Instructions
- Pound the chicken flat between two sheets of wax paper.
- Season both sides with salt, pepper and garlic powder.
- Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.
- Heat stove top griddle to medium high heat or two pans on separate burners. Heat the oil.
- Dredge the chicken in flour and shake any excess loose.
- Dip the chicken in beaten eggs and shake away excess.
- Press the chicken into the panko and shake off excess.
- Fry each breast 2 to 3 minutes on each sides until a golden crust is achieved.
- Carefully transfer the chicken to an oven pan, coat with tomato sauce, top with cheeses.
- Bake 7 to 8 minutes.
- Serve over your favorite pasta, sprinkle with parsley.
Meal type: dinner
Culinary tradition: Italian
Microformatting by hRecipe.
Caffe Pranzo: Reunited and it tastes so good
A restaurant’s ability to stay in one’s eating rotation is a high-wire act — One careful step at a time, knowing each might be the last.
Before Monday, it had probably been three years since I’d been to Caffe Pranzo. After lunch, I wanted to kick myself in a place that’s anatomically impossible to reach for those three years lost.
It was never about the food or the service. The simple fact was three years ago I was working a job that didn’t afford me the luxury of a casual lunch. I had one lunch that went a little long, then each time that followed when it was suggested I only remembered that one long lunch and dismissed it. That doesn’t excuse me for not showing up at dinner.
This is a great little place to eat. Rick Gratch has owned it for 12 of the 14 years its been open, taking over when it’s predecessor Gagliardi’s closed.
The specialty is no-nonsense Italian food made from fresh ingredients and served with a higher level of precision than the majority of Italian eateries around the city.
On Monday, Lori and I started with Fried Calamari to be followed by a portobello sandwich for her and an Insalate Pesce for me.
All meals at Pranzo, though, begin with house bread and their take on vinegar and oil. Rather than pour you a 3 to 1 portion of balsamic and olive oil on a dish, they mix their dressing ahead and include sweet peppers and assorted herbs and spices. Whatever the assortment is, it’s working.
When the calamari arrived, our server, Joe whose friendliness and knowledge of the menu and the restaurant was only exceeded in intensity by the gray of his ponytail, said under his breath that we were about to eat the best version of this popular appetizer in the city. I’m not ready to make that proclamation, but I would certainly be happy to serve as judge in a competition on the matter. And I wouldn’t bet against the calamari we had, which was served with both marinara and acciughe sauce, that’s anchovies but don’t fear it. The influence is subtle and the result is a perky, piquant sauce that lights up the palate. The marinara is a welcomed balance. That said, the hand-breaded calamari worked just fine with neither condiment. I could’ve eaten it all day, and almost did.
As the calamari gradually disappeared, Lori and I discussed our past experiences with the restaurant and agreed that it was tragic that neither of us had been in so long. We agreed quiet, classy stops like Pranzo aren’t to be forgotten but lauded for their effort to keep flavor first and leave the hawking to those who aspire to be Colonel Sanders to an unborn generation. Nothing wrong with ambition or goals, but sometimes those things get in the way of the food. Not always, sometimes. Caffe Pranzo is an unpretentious attempt to connect with the community through pasta, pizza and wine.
It’s working.
Lori called her portobello sandwich the best she’d ever had. Ever. As I sat down to blog on our lunch, she reminded me that I needed to mention that. She told Joe the same thing, saying that it was a nice change to be able to taste the mushroom and not some heavy-handed marinade that masked the fungi-goodness but made the bread a soggy mess.
My Insalate Pesce included grilled shrimp and scallops over chilled linguni and mixed greens with house dressing. It was the kind of lunch that reminded me how much I really do love entree salads. I used to be insane for the spicy lemon chicken salad at Pepperoni Grill. The shrimp was grilled and tasty, the pasta perfect and the greens fresh and leafy. The dressing made it all come together. The only misstep was the scallops, which were the pencil-eraser-sized variety. I initially thought they were corn nuts, and frankly I would’ve rather them been corn nuts. They were dry, bland and didn’t add any interesting texture. The scallops mediocrity, though, would not preclude me from making the same order again.
Bottom line: Caffe Pranzo is back in the rotation, my apologies for letting it fall out.
Have you been to Caffe Pranzo? Let me know what you thought.
Go West(in), Sooner Fans
Despite a disappointing start to the season, the Red River Rivalry beckons. Because the game doesn’t carry its usual wealth of implications, this year might be one to take in some of the local scenery before and after the big game.
There’s no better place to nest than the Westin Galleria, where you’ll find a lovely hotel with an efficient staff, a restaurant under the supervision of one of Dallas’ finest chefs who happens to be an ex-OU wrestler, and more shopping than you can ever possibly take in around a football game and the fair.
The newly remodeled hotel has 448 suites/rooms within its 23 floors, two high-end restaurants and is attached directly to the mall, which is four stories high and has more than 200 retail stores. Don’t forget two food courts and nearly 30 places to eat besides The Second Floor and The Oceanaire Seafood Room.
The Second Floor supplies room service to the Westin Galleria in Dallas, serving braised short ribs and eggs for a modern take on traditional steak and eggs.
You can spend the night on a luxurious Heavenly Mattress, wake up to an indulgent breakfast of steak and eggs — no cheap sirloins from executive chef J Chastain, this is braised short ribs. We also had the classic Eggs Benedict and they were perfection.
With the game starting at 11, one could conceivably root the Crimson and Cream on at the Cotton Bowl and get his/her Christmas shopping done before dinner.
Two birds, one stone and that’s not counting Friday night or Sunday morning.
The Galleria is north of downtown Dallas, so it’s closer to home coming and going.
When I stayed there, the staff was courteous, friendly and informative. The views were as good as Dallas can offer. The tall, mirrored cityscape of downtown is south. You’ll find yourself humming the opening theme to “Dallas” if you’re older than 40. North is, well, Oklahoma. Let’s face, the scenic parts of north Texas aren’t much different from those in central Oklahoma. That said, it’s pretty cool to be in a room high enough to watch airplanes fly by at eye level.
My son Luke and I headed over to Six Flags Over Texas for the day to celebrate his 12th birthday, making it there in less than 30 minutes. I must say as much as I enjoyed the Eggs Benedict, I would be lying if I told you that it was the wisest breakfast before we took on the Judge Roy Scream twice, the Runaway Mine Train, the Shock Wave twice, the Texas Giant and Batman. I fought the laws of digestion, and the laws of digestion won.
Eggs Benedict from Scott Gottlich's Second Floor Bistro and Bar. Great for breakfast, not great to get your through a day spent upon roller-coasters.
That doesn’t mean I wouldn’t order them again in a heartbeat, it’s just I wouldn’t put my heart through them and a 3-plus hours spinning, curving, dipping, looping and corkscrewing at speeds up to 70 miles per hour. So, maybe go for some nice granola before the big game. Save the big breakfast for Sunday morning.
The Westin offers valet parking for $25 a night, which sounds steep but it beats parking overnight in a mall parking lot. Prices for rooms hover around $100 a night and up, ranging from basic rooms to multiple-room sky suites. Go to the hotel Web site to check for special packages and current room rates.
The only thing Westin can’t take care of is Sam Bradford’s shoulder. I say that, but has Bradford contacted the Westin? If he doesn’t play by Baylor, perhaps someone should give them a call.
Check in next week when I blog about Gottlich’s crowned jewel, Bijoux.
Monique’s Corner: Pirates flavors from the Caribbean
Tobago jerk pork chops from Monique's Corner in Norman.
Former Oklahoman intern Daniel Puma introduced me to Monique’s Corner back in September. He’d talked and talked about how much he loved the place through the summer. But when I arrived at the corner of White and Buchanan for lunch one September afternoon, he informed me he’d only ever order the St. Thomas Chicken and Vegetables.
I told him that if it was as good as he said, then there was a better-than-average chance that other items from the menu would be good.
Alas, he ordered the St. Thomas Chicken again.
I started with a papaya frappe, which was perfect.
Then we shared some Argentinian empanadas, which stopped our conversation about his lifetime of moving from one house to another dead in its tracks.
Though Jose and Aura Maestre are from Venezuela, this dish tasted as if it was derived from a lifetime of making one empanada after another passed through generations.
By now, I had filled out the internship form for his credit and we talked, as usual, about food. Places we’d eaten, dishes we’d been experimenting with and on and on.
Then came my Tobago Jerk pork chops and Daniel’s precious St. Thomas chicken.
Pork chops are no different from any chops in that how they’re cooked makes all the difference. If you cook a pork chop properly, it barely needs salt and pepper. Monique’s passed this most-important phase easily. Thick, juicy, succulent. After that, everything else is a bonus.
At Monique’s, the bonus consisted of citrus and spice. I could’ve sworn I tasted fresh ginger, but Aura assured me there was none. Of course, she wouldn’t tell me what there was either.
Ultimately, I didn’t care as I finished both chops with little trouble while only sharing a single bite with Daniel and his precious St. Thomas chicken.
Of course, he only shared one bite of his chicken with me. It reminded me of my mother’s chicken curry. Chicken, on the bone, braised in a tomato-based broth infused with Latino herbs, spices and vegetables. That’s always a good idea.
On another visit, Aura made flan for me and guaranteed its quality. While I’ve seen more perfectly executed versions, the flavor was spot-on. Flan is all about the topping, and that was the star of this show. Beautifully carmelized crust and pornographically sweet syrup. This isn’t flan from the culinary institute of Venezuela, this is flan from the heart.
Oh, yeah, did I mention that before the flan, I had the pork chops again?
Have you been to Monique’s? Let me know what you thought.
