Inside My Table #43 | Restaurant listings
Daft Restaurant Concepts
Preparing this list of restaurants founded on kooky concepts was a stroll down memory lane. As we pulled out file upon file, we were reminded of the humanely short lives of restaurant after club after cafe based on God-knows-what thinking. Most are long-gone, but a few have not only endured but thrived. No surprise that a city with a Beer Can House, Art Car Parade and Hair Ball would give birth to some nutty restaurant concepts as well. Here are 14 of the more peculiar.
AMAZON 2050 A.D., on Greenbriar in Shepherd Plaza, now closed. This cheesy Rainforest Cafe wannabe took over the space that had been Shannon Wynne’s 8.0. The new owners set people’s teeth on edge from the get-go by painting over every one of 8.0’s original murals, the work of several local artists. (Critics still aver the owners should have auctioned off the walls.) The schizoid menu included everything from Yankee pot roast to shrimp Creole to chicken-fried steak.
CARLYLE, on Westheimer near Yorktown, now closed. This was the palace that Harold Farb built (the 1992 Zagat Survey dubbed it the “Texas Versailles”) and where he often sang in the evening. It was plagued by a million management and kitchen start-up problems, not to mention a city still smarting from the oil recession. The Carlyle would be much more at home in Houston today.
CROSTINI, 2411 S. Shepherd between Fairview & Westheimer, 713-524-8558. Fusion cuisine that marries Asian and French is common enough, but who thought that Thai and Italian would work? Chef/owner and Thai native Chai Rapesak put in several years at La Strada before opening his own place. Now several years old, Crostini proves this is an international city, both census-wise and food-wise. Try the cappellini with shrimp and chicken in lemongrass broth.
DONUTS & DOGS, on Richmond near Hillcroft, now closed. Yes, this was a restaurant devoted to the two major food groups, doughnuts and hot dogs. We never actually tried it, but it was reportedly a favorite of Houston Chronicle fast-food writer Ken Hoffman’s. Truly, it was a cafe without a nutritional conscience.
EGGSHELLS, on Richmond between Fountain View & Hillcroft, now closed. A poorly timed gastronomic irony: Back in 1984 when the brouhaha over eating eggs first kicked up, here was a restaurant that took its inspiration, name and logo from eggs, offering 31 plain and fancy omelets. It failed rather quickly, but we do recall the “Oscar” omelet (with crab, asparagus and hollandaise sauce) with a tiny measure of fondness.
HEINZ & CARL’S NORTH EUROPEAN FISH RESTAURANT, on Blalock north of I-10, now closed. A Teutonic outpost in Spring Branch, this was a lovely, whimsical restaurant set in a Hansel and Gretel cottage, serving fresh Dutch maatjes herring, two kinds of borscht, chicken Kiev, holsteiner schnitzel and such. Nice people, nice food. But, you know, this is Texas, not Minnesota. It just didn’t catch on.
LA CAVE DES ROIS, on Augusta between San Felipe and Woodway, now closed. Houstonians hate restaurant names they can’t pronounce, and no one knew how to say this one. The name meant “the cave of kings,” and it really did feel like it was underground, with a series of low arches and tucked-away dining areas. Basically, more pick-up joint than restaurant, the food never lived up to its menuese, and it folded fairly quickly.
LUCKY BURGER, 1601 Richmond near Mandell, 713-522-5650. Good hamburgers with a side of eggrolls are the calling at this oddball. (And why not? One could argue that the veggie-filled eggrolls add a modicum of fiber to the diet.) You can’t miss it: It looks like a big ol’ beer barrel.
LUPE TORTILLA’S, 318 Stafford St. near Highway 6, 281-496-7580 and other locations. In an age of political correctness, these Tex-Mex cafes revel in their offensively written menus (e.g. the chile con queso “ees very good”) What usually stuns first-timers is the big sandbox for kids, not to mention their own little “bar.” Suburban families love these goofy places.
MAGIC ISLAND, 2215 Southwest Freeway near Kirby, 713-526-2442. If this ersatz marriage of In Search of the Lost Ark and a Victorian bordello—we’re speaking design here—doesn’t snap you to attention, you’re dead. Somehow, despite so-so Continental food, this highly embellished palace has thrived. Probably because people like the close-up sleight of hand, psychics and strolling magicians.
MERCY, on Westheimer near Kirby, now closed. Specialties included vegetarian tamales, eggplant lasagne and chicken chili, but what killed Benalou Devereaux’s dream was the very strange setting (strange for River Oaks, that is), the “box within a box.” It was supposed to be very Soho, with stark plywood walls, bare concrete and weird music. But do you really want to eat in the light of a television screen with a static picture that has “Mercy” emblazoned across it? We didn’t think so.
PLANET HOLLYWOOD, on Westheimer in The Galleria, now closed. Houston’s delirious welcome to this broken-down concept was down-right embarrassing. Didn’t anyone realize that the whole themed-restaurant craze was passe by the time it got here? Dignity, people, dignity!
SAINTS & SINNERS, on Westheimer in Briargrove Center, now closed. Cutesy idea to pair up a menu that would be half indulgent and half spa cuisine. Then again, has anyone noticed how very few menus have those little hearts indicating heart-healthy selections (read: tasteless, boring) anymore? It’s because people don’t want to think about it.
TEMPEST, on Post Oak Blvd. in The Pavilion, now closed. Boasting the same out-there Chicago architect Jordan Moser as next-door Américas, Tempest’s interior was done all on the curve. It was supposed to be a dramatic salute to Shakespeare’s The Tempest, but it was whispered that it looked more like the entrance to a vagina. The food was entirely beside the point. Who could think of eating in such a setting?
