TRAVEL THERE: URBAN RIO IN PLANO TX IS URBAN HIP, BUT I’M AFRAID I NO LONGER AM

It’s no secret that Friday night happy hour is not my regular scene. It used to be. Wellington’s, The #3 Lift, Pappagallo’s, Arthur’s , The Bijoux, Daddy’s Money, The Currency Club, elan and The Point were my regular hangouts – along with a list of places I can’t even remember.  Then came a new wave of clubs, Studebaker’s was one of my favorites and though I didn’t go for happy hours, later in the evening you could find me at the Stark Club or Beethoven’s.  But not so much this day and time.

Meeting for Dinner/Happy Hour

Once in a great while, someone will drag me out of my lair on a Friday night and on a recent Friday night it was to Urban Rio.  Maybe I was still feeling frisky from my cruise or I just needed some Tex-Mex, but when my best friend suggested I should join her and another friend there, I did.  I also thought a Tex-Mex Cantina in downtown Plano seemed like a safe place for an old fuddy duddy like me to hang out.

My first ah-ha was that downtown Plano is a pretty happening place.  A mixed-use neighborhood has been growing up around the DART station there, but I’d never been when things were really hopping. Well, they were hopping on Friday night.  DART delivered week-weary professionals to the stop on a regular basis, but people were also headed there in their personal vehicles.  I got there about 5:30 and parking was challenging.  Who knew?

My friend expected to get there around 5:30, also, but when I got there, she wasn’t. This is one of my least favorite situations.  I go all awkward when I’m waiting for someone.  I’m not really egotistical enough to think anyone is paying any attention to me, but this weird demon sits on my shoulder shouts, “Everyone here is watching you.  They think you’re fat and that your clothes are frumpy.  Your friend isn’t coming.  She doesn’t like you anymore.  In fact, no one likes you.”

As the demon assails me, I try to sit nonchalantly and observe the decor and clientele.  About 90% of the folks who walked in were way cool.  The women had really huge designer handbags, their shirt tails hung out beneath their jackets, their necks were draped with those huge scarves everyone else seems to think are so attractive and there was a lot of air-kissing going on.  The other 10% looked as frumpy as the demon was telling me I was.  The decor was definitely hip. Sleek wood, multi-patterned upholstery, lots of noise.  That kind of place.

Finally, to shut the demon up, I called my friend.  She was just minutes away and she still loved me.  When she arrived, she looked pretty cool, too.  Friday-casual denim and she’d changed the part in her hair.   I swung my large designer bag onto my shoulder and hoped no one would realize my snakeskin printed jeans were over a year old.  I think  I might need a cool monitor.

On the Rocks

Deb didn’t see her friend in the downstairs area, so she started texting.  Deb also has an iPhone, so she looks cooler than me when she does that.  Maybe I’ll grow up someday and have an iPhone, too.  Her friend was upstairs in Urban Rio’s cantina, On the Rocks.  Seems the building holding Urban Rio used to be an ice house and the bar’s name is a nod to the past.

Upstairs was loud.  I’m convinced that most of the noise downstairs is just overflow from upstairs.  The hip factor went down a bit, though.  The unhip held a larger margin upstairs than they did down below, but the energy level was almost as high as the volume.  Deb ordered a carafe of margaritas on the rocks to share with me, but her friend was already sipping frozen ritas. Deb and her friend ordered various skewers, which were delicious.  I ordered nachos.  Little did I know they’d need heavy equipment to deliver them.  We three girls nibbled on them forever, but there was still at least a quarter of the plate left when we begged them to take the debris away.

For the next few hours, Deb and her friend caught up with one another and I had plenty of time to remind myself why I don’t go out for happy hour very often.  Yelling to be heard is not as much fun for me as it used to be.  My life is pretty boring, too.  I’m just an old married lady and Deb’s friend was living The Young & The Restless.  Eventually, it was time to go home.  Drat those margarita carafes.  I pretty much fell asleep as soon as I got home.

But I recommend Urban Rio for the hip and the unhip, though in the future I’d probably stick to the downstairs.  You young’uns can have the noise.  The food is very good and I enjoyed those margaritas when I was drinking them.  So, yes, do go to Urban Rio!

TRAVEL HERE: TOUCHED BY ANGELS AND GREATNESS

I’m not much of a groupie. I might buy a book by someone famous, but I probably won’t buy the t-shirt.  In fact, I’m a lot more impressed by important people who are already dead and still relevant, than I am the latest and greatest of the moment, but I met some superstars recently.

Book Launch

This week I was invited to a book launch, something I really enjoy.  I dream of the day I’ll be the author signing the books, but this wasn’t your average book launch.  Not only were the authors celebrities, but the party was on Beverly Drive.  If you know Dallas, you know that’s quite an address.  When I looked up the agent hosting the party, I realized she was the one who discovered Stephen Covey, the 7 Habits guy.  OK, now I was really impressed.

Arriving at Jan Miller’s Beverly Drive address we discovered valets parking cars and Jan herself greeting people at the front door. Her home is gorgeous and on this particular evening, it was very crowded.  Regulars to Jan’s soirees said it was the biggest crowd they’d ever seen.

I bought one of the books we were there to launch and found a safe alcove for some serious people watching.  Uniformed wait staff passed champagne and canapes.  Burly security guards confined the crowd in the appropriate areas.  Dallas in all of it’s glory paraded before us.  I met everyone from Jan Miller’s accountant to Larry Hagman’s nutritionist, not to mention a radio personality or two.

When the crowd reached fever pitch, Jan stood on her grand staircase and welcomed everyone into her home.  Then she told us we were about to get a treat.  Grammy award winner Bebe Winans was in the house and was going to sing for us.  I’ve been to a lot of book launches and readings, but nothing of that magnitude ever occurred as lagniappe.

But the main event was just starting, Roma Downey and Mark Burnett were introduced.  You probably remember Roma best from Touched by and Angel, but her husband is the hottest thing in Hollywood right now.  The Voice, The Apprentice, Shark Tank and Survivor, are a few of the shows he’s produced.  And somehow, he got The History Channel to present the mini-series The Bible – talk about a miracle.

Now, I expected them to be nice.  I’d seen them on interviews and they were there to sell books, so why wouldn’t they be nice, but I didn’t expect them to be SO nice.  They are so excited about The Bible project and the book, A Story of GOD and All of Us.  They’re also quite humble – they give the main character in the book full credit for everything.

Then the lines began for the book signing.  I’d learned many book signings ago, either be among the first or among the last, because standing in line is not much fun.  I was not in position to be among the first of the autograph seekers and I’d been standing since the party started, so I moved to one of the chairs that had been vacated.  I wasn’t the only one who chose to wait until later, because the two lines stayed about the same length for a very long time.

Finally, I decided I’d better make my move.  The line was still there, but it was finally shrinking.  I’d been to launches and readings where the opportunity to get your book signed was closed before everyone had had their chance.  I didn’t want that to happen in this case.

The lines moved very slowly.  Mark and Roma were not just signing books.  They were warmly greeting every person and having a conversation with them.  This is not your average Hollywood couple.  I have no idea how they had the stamina to do this.  I was literally among the last few people in line and Mark greeted me as warmly as if I were the very first and with as much genuine interest as if I were someone important.  It wasn’t me trying to strike up a conversation with him.  He wanted to know if I was enjoying the series.  I even had my picture made with him.

Then I was turned over to Roma who hugged me!  I told her I admired what they were doing and prayed for their success and protection.  She grabbed me by both my hands and talked excitedly about their challenges and expressed her appreciation of my prayers.  Such warmth, when all that was required was a “thank you for coming.”  Then I was photographed with Roma.

TRAVEL HERE: DARN THAT DFW INTERNATIONAL

In the general sense, I’m pretty fond of airports. If I’m in one, I’m either traveling (which is a good thing) or I’m picking up someone I care about (and that’s a good thing, too).

DFW International Airport

In a more specific sense, I have to be honest, DFW is not my favorite airport.  Most of the time, if something is in any way associated with Dallas, the Metroplex or Texas in general, I’m one of its biggest fans, but that affection doesn’t extend to our airport.  Unfortunately, that’s where I have to start if I’m going to fly somewhere.  Since I just got back from a trip, I was reminded of my dislike affair with DFW International.

I Loved Love Field

I have to be candid with you.  I was perfectly happy with Love Field.  It was easy to get to and easy to get around.  Then the government stuck their nose into our business. The FAA decided we had to build on a grander scale and to be sure that the new airport made it, they came up with the Wright Amendment.  Like most Dallasites, I did my dead level best to ignore DFW International for as long as I could, but the amendment meant that there were a whole lot of places you couldn’t get to from Love Field.  I don’t know about you, but I’m still mad.  There’s a chance that my abhorrence of big government began there.

Changing Planes at DFW

As much as I grumble about DFW, I’m grateful that I just fly out of the place.  I’d hate to be changing planes there.  Some ding dong thought there was something wrong with having terminals that were actually connected with each other. Our terminals are spread out like cows grazing in a pasture – and the cows don’t like each other very much.   On this most recent trip, my travel companions tried to tell me DFW wasn’t all that bad – and I’m sure there are worse airports – but I just haven’t fallen in love with it.

Picking Someone Up at DFW

Going out to pick someone up is a whole ‘nother can of worms.  DFW was built a long time ago, back in the days when you had to know which gate someone was arriving at.  You strolled in, let security x-ray your purse and found a bar to hang out in until your friend arrived. Now you have to have a boarding pass to get through security – and I appreciate all the reasons for that – but there are no bars on this side of security.  There is something very wrong about that.

Layovers at DFW

And let’s say your best friend in the whole world, who you haven’t seen in twenty years, had a two hour layover at DFW.  Good luck with that.  You might have time to wave at each other from opposite sides of a security booth, but only if the moon was blue and you held your tongue right.  I’d consider waving at them from your backyard as they flew over, instead.

Layover at Denver

Which reminds me of a recent trip we took.  We ended up with most of the day to kill at the Denver airport.  Rather than waste our time hanging out in the terminals, we rented a car and played around at a gorgeous mall in Stapleton.  I’m trying to imagine what someone with the same dilemma would do, if they were at DFW.  Grapevine Mills Mall is probably close enough, but the logistical challenges would be legion.  I’m also questioning whether I really want that mall to be all someone saw of the Metroplex.  No – if this happens to you, please stay at the airport!

Thankfully, I’ll never have to manage a layover at DFW.  I just drop my car off at Park n Fly and let them worry about the whole thing.  What about you?  Have you been a victim of DFW International Airport?  Tell us about it!

TRAVEL HERE: I LOVE & HATE THE NEW PEROT MUSEUM

Warning this post has a split personality.  Part of me absolutely loved the new Perot Museum of Nature and Science.  Part of me didn’t.  Let’s start wit the part of me that did.

A Good Reason to Visit

I’ve been looking for an excuse to visit the new Perot and was very glad when when the UTD alumni association invited me to a mixer there.  I hoped that we’d get free reign of the facility and be able to check out the whole thing, but whatever was up, I wanted to see it.

A few days ahead, they emailed me to remind me of the date, but I didn’t open the emails until the morning of – then I started to worry.  Yes, the email did kindly remind me of the mixer, but they also warned me of potential parking hazards.  I was strongly warned to use the $15 valet service, because around the corner from the museum is the American Airlines Arena and the Mavs were playing.  I was advised that there was a $10 lot around the corner, but Bill hates to pay for parking, so the event was not exactly starting out on his best foot.

I forwarded the email to him to warn him about the parking and he seemed to take the news in stride, but that was because he assumed we could park at the DMA for free.  We’re members there and it’s just a few blocks from the Perot.  Too bad, so sad; the DMA was closed on the evening in question. Plan A failed.  Then we left a little late, traffic was awful and we made a wrong turn of two. Isn’t that always the way?  If there had been a Plan B, we weren’t doing real well on it either.

But God was good.  Bill missed the turn for the $10 parking and landed next to a parking meter.  For four quarters and quick stroll, we got the evening back on track.  Inside the Perot, we were given a nice glass of wine and offered some lovely hors d’oeurvres.  We were then treated to a series of neat little speeches that commended me for graduating from such an up and coming university.

Exploring the Museum

Released from the formalities we began to explore the parts of the museum we were given access to: the children’s area, the sports area and a traveling exhibition space.  The traveling exhibition space was of great interest to my husband, a wannabe architect/decorator/carpenter.  The development and construction of the museum were covered in a very hands-on, kinetic manner – just like he likes.

The kids’ area was darling.  There were things to climb, handles to rotate, water to splash and a farmers market with plastic fruits and vegetable to sort.  We even found glass cages with exciting things like snakes in them.  I could imagine about one hundred kids in there having the time of their lives.  Then I realized that right outside the door was a sandbox of enormous proportions.  Kids could not only get wet; they could also get dirty!  Oh to be young again!

Perhaps you are getting the drift of this place – innovative, interactive, hands-on…  Well, the sports area was no exception.  A race track encouraged you to kick off your shoes and virtually race sports greats, a dinosaur or even the person you came with.  On the opposite wall they used freeze frame photography to help you pinpoint the weaknesses of your football pass or pirouette, whichever you were most interested in improving.  They didn’t have a golf club, but Bill used a hockey stick to get his swing filmed.  The crowd loved it.

So What’s the Hate Part

So what did that other (fussy) part of me find to complain about.  Well, it’s really a matter of taste for one thing and probably the fact that we entered the building from a secondary entrance for another.

When I think of a museum, I lean towards classical architecture.   The Philadelphia Museum of Art, for instance.  Now, that’s a museum.  It’s not that I don’t like contemporary architecture.  My home is contemporary.  I love what I.M. Pei did for the DMA.  I’m one of the people who defends the Winspear Opera House.  But the Perot is just a little further out there than I’m comfortable with.

I do find the outside compelling.  I still crane my neck when I pass it and can’t wait until I’ve seen all the insides.  It’s new and different.  I want to know how the exterior interacts with the interior.  But the lower level entry used for the UTD event was disappointing.  It made me feel as if I’d happened into a constructions site.  It doesn’t matter where I enter the DMA, I’m instantly attuned to the building.  Not so at at the Perot.

I can tell you that when I explored the various exhibits, the architecture actually became transparent.  I was able to look at things without the building getting in the way.  That was very good, but I wanted the WOW factor. Hopefully one day soon I’ll walk into the main entry and be blown out of the water, but bringing me into the Field Street Entry was a disappointment.

I remember stepping into the Chicago’s Museum of Science and Industry. I loved the classical exterior, but I was thunderstruck the moment I stepped inside.  I literally stood there for a few minutes in awe.  I knew I’d arrived someplace important.  That’s what I want from the Perot.

The Field Street entrance lobby of the Perot just looks unfinished.  The hall was narrow and I wasn’t sure I was supposed to be there.  The primary surface I saw was raw concrete.  A large staircase commands a lot of attention and we soon discovered it was musical, which was enchanting, but it looked like it was covered in linoleum.  Somebody is probably going to tell me it’s some really expensive surface I should be impressed with, but it looked like linoleum to me.

So have you been yet?  What did you think?  I can assure you I’ll be going back and exploring the Perot deeper.  I won’t have any trouble getting Bill to go along with me, if I promise he can do the freeze frame filming again.  He’ll probably wear sneakers so he can race the virtual cheetah.  Should you go to the Perot? Absolutely!  Don’t you dare miss it! Just be sure to go in the main entrance.

TRAVEL HERE: AN EVENING WITH THE TEXAS LEGENDS BASKETBALL TEAM

OK – I’ll confess. Sports aren’t exactly my thing. They were my Dad’s thing, so I’m well versed in football, baseball, golf and bowling, but the passion didn’t trickle down. Though my husband loves snow skiing, hang-gliding and golf, he’s not a team sport kind of a guy.

Pricey Tickets

Part of the reason is the price of professional sports.  Dallas has a team for every sport imaginable and good ones, but decent tickets are about $100 a pop, the parking can cost almost as much and it’s easier to buy gold than pay for a meal from the concession stand.  If I’m forking over that kind of money, I’d rather go to the opera, thank you very much.

I’m telling you this so you’ll know where I’m coming from.  If you’re the guy with all the sports channels on cable and season tickets to home games, you can move on.  You’re out of my league.

Texas Legends

That being said, my husband and I have on occasion ended up at a sporting event and had a great time.  We’re just not given to forking out obscene chunks of dough to watch people sweat.   So, when someone offered me cheap tickets to a Texas Legends game, we were all over it.  Especially when I figured out a hot dog was included.

Who are the Texas Legends?  Well they’re an NBA development team associated with Mark Cuban’s Dallas Mavericks and they play at Dr. Pepper Arena up in Frisco.

Attending a Game

If you want to go see them, my first bit of advice would be to go early!  There’s free parking all around if you get there before the crowd, but when we arrived, it was a madhouse and we were lucky to get into the $10 lot.  By miscalculating we not only missed the free parking, we also missed the tip off, but we weren’t alone.  I think most of the crowd was in the lobby when the game started.

When we found our seats, it was like arriving late for a three ring circus.  There were so many places to look that I couldn’t focus on any one thing.  A basketball game was certainly going on in the center of the arena, but there was a whole lot more begging for attention.

Immediately surrounding the court were all the basketball-related personnel, coaches, relief players and a bunch of people sitting behind computers, but I’m not sure what they were up to.  Then there was a ring of entertainment – scantily clad cheerleaders, some sort of blue mascot called Dunker and a guy who spent the whole game throwing t-shirts into the crowd.

We’d just sat down and were trying to figure out which team we were supposed to be for, when someone called a time out and a super-sized dance squad marched out on the court.  These were big boys and they were well padded, but I’m not sure who they were or why they were there.

Soon the ball was back in play and my eyes wandered from one end of the pit to the other.  Tumbling mats covered the north end and a sea of kids were hula-hooping.  A souvenir shop graced the south end and behind the team colors were a bunch of air-inflated kid’s structures, like a bounce house, slide and who knows what else.  A good time was being had by lots of screeching kids, but I’m not sure what it had to do with basketball.

Finally, I adjusted my focus and tuned in on the game.  I figured out the guys in red were from Idaho (Idaho?), so the guys in camouflage were ours.  (Camouflage?)  Yes, camouflage!  I also figured out that we were doing pretty good and were ahead by a decent number of points.  I settled back in my chair for a little b-ball.

But the game was elusive.  Just about the time I would get into it, a time-out would come along and something bizarre would happen on the court.  Sometimes kids would appear and compete at some odd event, but the super-sized dancers also showed up for encores.  And all the while, either end of the court was in constant motion and young voices screamed at the top of their lungs.  If you’re looking for action, let me tell you, the Legends have it going on.

When the second quarter rolled around it seemed like a good time to get our free hot dog.  I wasn’t sure how much more of the chaos I could stand, so we found the concessions.  I won’t complain about the wait, because the food was free.  We missed a good portion of that quarter and before we knew it, it was half-time.

Military Theme Night

Looking back on the game, I have figured out that they must have been having some sort of theme night related to the military.  That would explain the camouflage-printed uniforms, anyway. (They were so ugly, they needed an explanation.)    The half time was devoted to honoring a fallen soldier from the Iraqi conflict.  Then periodically throughout the game the announcer recognized people who served in each of the branches of the military.  He’d ask every one who had served in a given branch to stand up, but with so much going on, I was never sure who I was honoring when I applauded.  I thought the whole thing was a little odd, but with hindsight, the pieces began to fall into place.

One thing I figured out as I took in all the chaos was that whoever does the marketing for the Legends has targeted families.  Along with jump houses, time-out competitions and hula hoops, I realized there were birthday parties going on in almost every corner of the building.  Scrolling across the bottom of the Megatron screen were texts from kids thanking their daddies for the cool birthday parties.  Kids rule at Dr. Pepper arena.

I also noticed there wasn’t an inch of visual real estate that didn’t have some sort of sponsor.  My eyes were complaining almost as much as my ears.  Some of the sponsors were local universities, like my alma mater, UTD.  They were the ones who’d offered me the evening for a very affordable $10 each.  Had I had to pay full price for our seats, they would have been $28.00 a piece.

At half time a pair of mini-dirigibles made their way around the arena.  One was shaped like a large car and advertised a limo service.  The other one touted a casino and dropped coupons of some sort into the crowd.

Another sponsor was Veracruz, who had their name painted in bright colors on the center of the court.  I’m not sure what there was about the experience that would make me consider a vacation to Veracruz.  Did they think all the noise would make me want to escape to a tropical getaway?  That’s possible, because by the middle of the fourth quarter, we decided to beat the crowd and head to the parking lot.  Perhaps we were in visual overload or maybe it was the screaming kids. Visually or by audio, our brains were short circuited.

Then again, maybe it was that the Legends had lost their lead and the gap was getting bigger as the seconds ticked by.  I checked the next day and we were soundly beaten 104-88.  Idaho?  I’m still trying to wrap my mind around that one.

Should you go see the Texas Legends?  Well, for a whopping $30 we had a darned good time.  I don’t know if it would have been as much fun at $66, but I do know one thing, if you have kids, you should certainly take them.  I don’t know that I’ve ever seen anything more completely devoted to a family having a good time.  Even Disney could learn a few things from them.

TRAVEL HERE:  YES, I WATCH ANCIENT ALIENS AND I LOVE IT!

Hello, my name is Jane and I’m an Ancient Aliens addict.  It’s one of the few shows I bother to record and I rarely delete an episode, because I watch them over and over and over again.  The bane of my existence right now is that I can’t convince my husband to upgrade our Dish subscription to include H2.  So, I actually found the H2 website and have been watching episodes there, something I’ve never done with any other TV program in my life.  I’m working my way through all the available episodes, but I’m dying to watch those which are locked.

Not to worry though, I’m not sitting here in a tin foil hat.  I don’t watch the night sky for UFO’s. There are no little voices in my head.

I Don’t Fit the Profile

People who know me up close and personal find my Ancient Alien addiction even odder than you guys out in the blogosphere might.  I’m this Uber-Conservative Evangelical Christian, who spends a great deal of my time wondering if the Bermuda Triangle phenomena might not be some sort of wormhole in the fabric of the cosmos.  Even when I was a kid I was devouring every book in the library about Native American myths.  This was long before Erich von Daniken wrote Chariots of Gods, but my pre-pubescent mind speculated on the possibility that these legends had some toehold in actual events.

My Ancient Alien Addiction

Maybe I’m thinking about Ancient Aliens, because I’m about to head into the Bermuda Triangle.  At the end of the month, I’m boarding the Norwegian Epic in Miami and spending most of the next seven days slap dab in the middle of the infamous Triangle.  If you never hear from me again, the aliens got me.

However, I think my preoccupation with Ancient Aliens may be the result of another phenomena called, “What’s Next.”  As much fun as I have on any vacation, I really think planning them is the best part of it.  Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t want to miss enjoying the fruits of my labor, but the cruise is in the bag.  I’ve planned it out, right down to the soda card, so the “What’s Next” bug is eating away at me.

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t already have a checklist in my head.  I admit I’ve started softening Bill up for a European River Cruise, but having moved it up in the cue, a space opened on my wish list and I’m beginning to wonder if they have Ancient Alien tours.  The tour would go to places like Gobekli Tepe, Machu Picchu, Carahunge, Easter Island, Coral Castle and all the other fascinating places my Ancient Alien friends go and I want Giorgio A. Tsoukalos as my tour guide.  I realize the airfare alone would be astronomical, but a girl can dream, can’t she.

Before you call the folks with the padded cells and straight-jackets, I’m not a believer.  I’ve seen AncientAliensDebunked.com  Part of the fun of watching Ancient Aliens is catching their smoke and mirrors.  Still, they do ask some pretty interesting questions and it is fun to speculate on how some of this stuff came to be.  Dinosaurs hold no fascination for me, but megalithic structures discovered at the edge of some jungle with no apparent purpose and origins shrouded in mystery will get me every time.

What’s your guilty pleasure?   Would you be up for an Ancient Alien tour with Giorgio? I’m ready to go, but I’ve already explored the Pyramids in Egypt, Salisbury’s Stonehenge and the Vortexes of Sedona on my own, so maybe he’ll tailor the tour just for me. Especially since I’m such a big fan.  I’ll also have to take some scuba lessons, because there’s some pretty exciting sites submerged under the sea.  Where do I sign up?

TRAVEL HERE: LAVENDOU’S – A LOCAL FAVORITE

Last week I told you about my love affair with Gordon Biersch and since then I’ve been thinking about delicious places to eat in Dallas which I’ve failed to share with you.  At the top of that list would be Lavendou. It’s been around forever and there’s very good reason.  The website doesn’t mention how long, but I know it’s been around for a long time, because when I first visited (at least seven years ago) my friend couldn’t believe I hadn’t eaten at this neighborhood tradition – and I didn’t even live in the neighborhood, yet.

Near to Delicious

Now, my favorite thing about Lavendou is that it’s virtually around the corner from my house.  It’s so close I can be running late and still get there on time.  It’s rare for me to be in the car and not pass their perky yellow awning – and when I do, I always smile.  I promise I didn’t choose my house based on the restaurant’s location, but it sure didn’t hurt.

Unique

My other favorite thing is that it’s not a chain.  There is no place else in the world that you can go and enjoy their salmon bisque or their crepes or their…but I’m getting ahead of myself.  Lavendou is a quaint and cozy place to meet the girls for lunch, but somehow in the evening, it turns into this incredibly romantic venue for dinner.  I don’t exactly know how they manage it, but they do.

The yellow awning covers a small patio, but as much as I love al fresco dining, this is one place I usually sit inside.  The location just does not do the restaurant justice.  The patio is just a few yards from a very busy thoroughfare and one of the prominent stores in the strip mall is Condom Sense.  However, once you pass through the multi-paned door, you’re in the South of France.  There’s brick and wood and brightly printed textiles in dark blue and sunny yellow.  I’m always greeted by a smile and ushered to a table that feels like the best one, no matter where it is.  There’s no smell of lavender in the air, but with the aroma’s drifting in from the kitchen, you don’t really care.

There’s one guy that’s been a waiter there for many years and I always love it when they seat me at his table.  I think the professional restaurant critics would call the service at Lavendou uneven, but I’m there so often, that if they were going to have a bad day, I’d catch it – and there have been some bad days, but never bad enough to keep me from wanting to go back again and again and again.

As soon as you sit down they start feeding you.  They bring out perfect slices from a baguette, often still warm, with rock hard unsalted butter.  They’ll also drizzle some oil in a plate with pepper, but I’m a big fan of butter.  I’ll confess that I often arrive early so I have a good excuse for eating so many slices.  I’ll also confess that I usually get a glass of wine, even if it’s lunch.  I mean, if you were in the South of France, wouldn’t you get a glass of wine?

The meals are truly out of this world.  I’m not a big soup fan, but I adore their bisques – both salmon and lobster.  Their cream of asparagus is also wonderful.  If one of these three soups is not available, I’ve been known to eat the escargot.  In fact, I’ve been known to have soup and escargot and go right to dessert.  But that means I have to forego the entree and I hate to miss their du jours – quiche du jour, crepes du jour, les pates du jour (pasta) or The Chef’s Menu, which starts soup and ends with dessert du jour.  Another reason I go early and get a glass of wine is to give myself time to decide which I want, even though I’ve usually been thinking about it since the moment we decided to go there – whether that was hours or days ago.

And dessert?  Oh my – dessert!  L’Assiette Des Trois Tartes – can you say died and gone to heaven?  That’s what I get when I go for lunch, but if it’s for dinner – Soufflé au Chocolat.  They do have Grand Marnier and Raspberry Souffles, but I always say, why waste the calories if you can get chocolate.

If you can imagine it, dinner is a grander, more elaborate, affair than lunch.  Sometimes they even have special meals like Bastille Day Dinners, Mother’s Day Brunches or something for Valentines Day, but it doesn’t have to be a special event to get a special dinner at Lavendou.  Every meal there is special.

If you’re not a Dallasite, do you have a little neighborhood treasure like Lavendou?  If you live in Dallas, you probably already love it.  If you haven’t been, get there!

TRAVEL HERE: BURGERS AT GORDON BIERSCH

In the same way you sometimes forget to be grateful for your heart beating and your lungs breathing, it’s also easy to overlook the restaurants you enjoy most frequently. Take for instance my old favorite Gordon Biersch. I’ve mentioned it as one of my favorites in other blogs, but I’ve never actually written a post about it. Well, I’m fixing that today.

My First Visit

It’s been several years since I first visited Gordon Biersch at The Shops at Legacy, meeting some friends for a reading at an independent bookstore (which unfortunately no longer exists).  I remember wondering what kind of place Gordon had devoted to Birch Trees and what they might have to eat.  Sadly, one of my friends had an aversion to al fresco, so on my first visit, even though it was a gorgeous day outside, I sat in a rather dark corner of the restaurant and looked longingly at the folks having happy hour on the patio.  Our table was the only dark thing about the experience.

On that visit, as on every other, the food, though exceptional, was secondary.  The waitstaff is intent on showing the patrons a good time.  They’re excited about the beer and the food and they want to make sure you feel the same way, so the first thing they do is greet you enthusiastically.  The waiter wanted to know what such a great looking bunch of women was doing running around without a chaperon.   I knew the frumpy bunch of educators I’d come with didn’t need a chaperon, but the question set a fun tone.

When the waiter asked what we wanted to drink, he put us on notice that it should be one of the beverages brewed in-house.  My frumpy friends denied themselves the pleasure, but I didn’t.  I forget which of their beers I tried first, but I do know that every one I’ve tried, that time and on all others, has been brilliant.  Whichever beer I drank that evening, I had with the burger of the week and that’s what I’ve continued to have more visits than not.  There’s no telling what they might think to put between their buns, but I can tell you it will be good.  I do frequently get the pulled pork sandwich, too.  It’s hard to go wrong.

Of course, the best thing to have with a great beer and a burger (or pulled pork sandwich) is fries and Gordon Biersch knows fries.  At least they know GARLIC fries.  These are not something you should have on a first date, if you’re hoping for a kiss, but otherwise, go for it.  When they say garlic, they mean it.  Their coleslaw is delicious and they make nice fresh cut potato chips, but I’m telling you, if garlic is something you love, go for the fries!

Later Visits

I’d made several visits to Gordon Biercsh’s before I had the opportunity to take my husband.  On a warm Sunday afternoon in the spring we found a table on the patio and enjoyed ourselves.  We shared an entree without a bun that day and tried out several different brews, but mainly we just had a delightful time.

I can’t count how many times I’ve been back.  Just the other day I was at the Shops at Park Lane location, which is currently the only Dallas proper location.  I was with my mom and it was a little chilly to dine outdoors, but we split a burger and chips (she doesn’t do garlic).  As I looked around the chic interior and enjoyed the charming waiter I realized I hadn’t told you to go see Gordon yet – so now continue yourself told!

So do you have a Gordon Biersch near you?  Have you been?  Do you love it?

TRAVEL HERE: THERE’S STILL BEAUTY IN BELONGING TO THE DALLAS MUSEUM OF ART

A short while back, I received an email from the Dallas Museum of Art, announcing the exciting news that there would no longer be a charge for general admission. Well, maybe it wasn’t exciting for me.  As a member of many years, I’d gotten used to free admission – but perhaps it’s news to you.  I’m glad our city has rolled out the welcome mat for visitors in this way, but if you live here I have a suggestion for you – it’s time to start thinking about the benefits of membership.

More to Membership than Free Admission

Free admission for members was a loss leader for the museum.  They’ll actually save money by letting everyone in, because maintaining the entry level memberships cost them more money than they made.  However, there’s more to membership than free admission and to prove it to you, the museum now has a free membership.  Yep, that’s right.  Free membership.  It’s kind of like a loyalty card at the local grocery store or a frequent flyer club.  The more you use your museum, the more benefits you get.

A museum is only a well-decorated empty space unless somebody’s there and if no one cares, the museum will not continue exist.  That’s how the whole membership thing got started in the first place.  Back in 1979 Mom bought a membership so we wouldn’t have to stand in line to see the Pompeii exhibit out at Fair Park.  She has continued to have a membership over the years and the museum’s investment in her has paid off in spades.  That’s how they got me.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a major financial benefactor to the DMA or anything like that, but I do support my museum.  Nowadays, I belong at a level that does provide revenue, but there was a time when I spent more time at the museum than I did at my own home.  If they’d had to pay me money for all I did, I’d be rich, but the cool thing is, no matter how much I gave to the museum, I kept getting more back.

It’s the beginning of a New Year.  I think all those resolutions that you usually make are just fine.  Lose weight, get healthy, read more, watch less TV, whatever.  But why not have fun while you get a little culture in 2013.  Hang out at a Late Night event.  Listen to a favorite author talk about their book at Arts & Letters Live.  Tap your toe to jazz some Thursday Night Live.

And that’s just the beginning.  There are lectures, tours, classes and more and more and more.  There’s just no reason not to get to your museum and take advantage of the FREE admission and FREE memberships.  Who knows, you may even get hooked like me and fork over real cash so you can be a Partner.

TRAVEL HERE: CROW COLLECTION OF ASIAN ART IN DOWNTOWN DALLAS

If you haven’t been Downtown lately, then you haven’t really been to Dallas.  We’re just not the same place we once were – and in some ways,  that’s a good thing.

The Dallas Arts District

It’s been three decades since I first heard someone talk about a Dallas Arts District and at the time, it sounded like wishful thinking – but never underestimate a bunch of Texans.  Slowly but surely, we’ve built something very special down there.

The cornerstone was the Dallas Museum of Art.  Then venues like the Meyerson Symphony Center, the Winspear Opera House and many others came along.  The Crescent and the Ritz-Carlton aren’t far away.    Even the DISD Arts Magnet School is down there.  Now, there’s Klyde Warren Park and the new Museum Tower. In the meantime, exciting developments have popped up, fell into disuse and been redeveloped.  We’ve gotten lost from time to time, but we’ve never forgotten where we’re going.

The Crow Collection

Dallas’s Arts District is bright shiny and new in a lot of ways, but there are smaller, quieter places that also deserve your attention.  Take for instance The Trammel and Margaret Crow Collection of Asian Art.  It’s been a part of the growing Arts District for over fifteen years, yet I’d bet a lot of Dallasites don’t even know it’s there.  Here’s some reasons you should visit.

First, you need to know that it’s free.  Not just from time to time or on special days.  It’s just free – everyday all day long. The Trammel Crow Building is one of the major skyscrapers in Downtown Dallas and in one of the spaces of the building, the Crow family gave us access to this wonderful collection of art out of the goodness of their hearts.  That’s just one of the reasons I’m a big fan of that nasty old one percent that’s been kicked around so much lately.  So many of the things I love are made available to me out of the generosity of some one-percenter’s heart.

The next thing you should know is that it’s relatively small.  Taking in the DMA or Nasher is going to take up most of the day, if you want to see it properly.  But in comparison, the Crow Collection is bite-sized.  Yes, there are three floors, but the footprint of each floor is small and the displays embrace the minimalism of the Far East, where Less is considered More.  At the Crow, your brain doesn’t get that same stuffed feeling your stomach gets on Thanksgiving.

The museum is also very quiet. Most museums and libraries are quieter than, say, the mall, but there seems to be an extra aura of peaceful serenity at the Crow.  You won’t feel hurried or overwhelmed.  You’ll just stroll through and see marvelous things.  And marvelous they are.  On my most recent visit, I saw a series of golden statues with a fantastic number of limbs in some fairly amazing postures.  The labels said they were in the “Mother/Father pose,” but Bill said if the statues were of parents with their children, someone should call Child Protective Services.  I’ll let you be the judge of that.  The items exhibited change with a good bit of frequency, so if you want to see the Mother/Father poses, you better hurry.

Before you leave the Crow, pop into the lovely little Lotus Shop.  Unique items in a variety of price points are available to remind of you of your visit. Then you might want to take a stroll through Klyde Warren Park before the new wears off.