Resolution: Avoid Mount Everest
My New Year’s resolution isn’t going well so far. The plan was to stop eating like a stoned teenager and get my lazy bones...
Everything Is Permitted
Warning: Reading this column might trigger serious envy in those with shellfish allergies. Have an EpiPen handy.
Chow, Baby is like the William S....
Flight Plans
Chow, Baby is into trying new things, both at restaurants and in this column space. With that in mind, I present the first ever...
A Year in the ’Sphere
Another year of stuffing my face has passed, and I’m psyched about what 2014 has in store for my picky palate. (I’m less enthusiastic...
Duckling Roasting on an Open Fire
For the first time ever, Chow, Baby this year will be serving up Christmas dinner for the family. Just to be clear, I have...
Fridge v. Frigid World
All ice and no leaving the apartment makes Chow, Baby a dull food critic. All ice and no leaving the apartment … I went...
Tony in the ’Hood
It was odd to see Fort Worth’s tiny gayborhood, the area around Pennsylvania and Jennings avenues on the Near Southside, without The Gallery Art...
Feed a Fever
Lately, Chow, Baby has been spending more time on the couch than in Fort Worth restaurants. It seems like I’ve had the flu for...
Let the Chef Drive
Chow, Baby was strolling through the charming new plaza in Sundance Square, pondering the future of our culinary scene. As I looked one way,...
Present Imperfect
There I was eating my chicken club salad ($13) at Charleston’s (3020 S. Hulen St.) when my teenage server asked a question that ruined...
