Flavor Boulevard

The 7-year-old Antica Osteria is much too young to be one of “the nurseries of our legislators”, but it sure feels like one: warm brick walls, dark wood work, an old house nested in the green, sleepy residential area northwest of Rice University, and a patronage mainly composed of old white men. The smell of books might have been replaced by the smell of pasta and cheese (this place was previously a bookstore), but Chef Velio Deplano and his partner Ray Memari have kept Antica Osteria in that hidden, rustic, peaceful feeling of a bookstore. The gentle orange light made me excited like a drifting sailor seeing a lighthouse.

Normal bread and butter, not bread, vinegar and oil, accompanied our post-ordering conversation, followed by some airy garlic bread. A tiny voice in some little corner in my mind whispered that the garlic bread was waiting for the salad to travel down the pipe, but who could resist such beautiful orange color. We made sure that the garlic bread’s presence on the table was as fleeting as its texture. 😉

The insalata campagnola was great by itself anyway. The buffalo mozzarella, plain with a nutty lightness of marshmallow, deems superior to mozzarella from cow milk. I grew up hearing that water buffalo meat is leaner and “whiter” than beef (as in white meat vs. red meat, no racist joke here), so I was appalled to learn that water buffalo milk is much richer (higher levels of protein, fat, and minerals) than cow milk. (To produce 1 kg of cheese, 5 kg of water buffalo milk is needed versus 8 kg of cow milk.) The richness really doesn’t show in this cheese ball though, it’s like eating air.

I guess Varun didn’t feel particularly adventurous that day, as if one could ever be adventurous in an Italian restaurant, seeing that he got grilled salmon. As long as he’s happy…

I got petto d’anatra al pepe nero (black pepper pan-fried duck). It’s good, but again, not adventurous either.

The most exciting thing of the night was Aaron’s choice, also a special del giorno: cappellini aragosta, or angel hair pasta with lobster. Not that it was anything few people dare to eat, but the battle between Aaron and the lobster tail was captivating. Battle Aragosta. I can imagine directing a dinner date scene where the heroine of my movie has such trouble eating lobster and the guy finds it both uncouth and endearing at the same time. 😀 That said, I never order lobster.

Address: Antica Osteria
2311 Bissonnet
Houston, TX 77005
(713) 521-1155

Dinner for three: $95.26

Every year just after the winter holiday hustle and bustle, Mom and Dad let me choose a restaurant for my early birthday dinner. Last year it was Martin’s Place for barbecue. Dad never tells me no, but let’s just say that Mom didn’t feel too confident of my aesthetics since then. This year she gently insists on French. But I manage to sneak in a twist of Texas. 😉

After all, Chef Philippe Schmit dubbed himself the French Cowboy. His two-story Philippe Restaurant & Lounge opened last February just a mile north of The Galleria. Looking out to the Houston’s limitless horizon, the second-floor dining room is bathed in a warm chocolate hue of the furniture, accented with soft vanilla light and word decorations made of Chef Schmit’s quotes in watermelon red. In contrast, the menu is bold, extensive, spanning from Texas BBQ and cactus to foie gras and fish pâté, from the classic croque monsieur to the carefree duck confit tamales; there’s a little something for everyone.

“The Moroccan”, beef tartare with raisin, almond and the Tunisian hot sauce harrisa served with flat bread, rings amazingly close to Mexican flavors.

The roasted duck magret is drowned in a rich clementine-Cognac sauce and accompanied by one crispy fried duck confit ravioli on a lustrous carrot flan.

The four monkfish medallions topped with sun-dried tomato tapenade are pleasing. Although their texture errs on the dry side, the supple artichoke confit makes a fine complement.

The most pleasant surprise must be the garlic-butter escargots, listed among the “contained decadence”, served in a jar with airy brioche toast on the side. On one hand, my Vietnamese friends have chastised me many times for not having eaten snails ever; on the other hand, Little Mom isn’t a snail advocate. Today, the snails win. In Mom’s words: these snails have the fragrance of the roots of rice plants, the earthy but comforting hint of mud and grass. To me, they’re like chubby shiitake smothered in fennel puree and a “tipsy mushroom” paste. It’s a good first impression.

And finally, the deciding factor in my choice of restaurants: the desserts.

A smooth tonka bean creme brulee. The lime scent in the chantilly is a bit too faint for me, and the liqueur taste in the griottines is a bit too strong that I almost felt drunk (guess I’m not cut out for Western alcohol); besides, I’ve never fancied whipped cream and candied cherries. But Little Mom likes this one. And I like that there are three cherries for our family of three bears. 😀

The second dessert, plated like the setting sun on a mountain range, is much richer than the first, as it’s whimsically named the “Texas Millionaires tart”. Decadent chocolate and lace cookies are tempered by the super sour grapefruit. To top it off, the jasmine ice cream is a sweet lullaby.

As we get to the desserts, the dinner rush starts, the patrons fill the room, but the atmosphere remains easy. A waiter, tall and slouching, whose bushy Abraham Lincoln’s goatee makes him look like a toothbrush, leisurely takes a gander into the bright night cityscape. Through the voluptuous portions and the rich sauces, Philippe the Restaurant embodies Houston: bountiful, down-to-earth, wittily romantic. And above all, it is wholeheartedly welcoming.

Address: Philippe Restaurant and Lounge
1800 Post Oak Blvd, Suite 6110
Houston, TX 77056
(713) 439-1000
www.philippehouston.com