But things are about to get much more interesting. The next two to three months will bring a new wave of restaurant openings across Dallas. I drove around the city peering into windows to update you on their progress. Here is the latest intelligence we have on upcoming high-profile openings, in approximate order of opening time.

• Ladylove Lounge and Sound (opens July 7). This Bishop Arts bar, complete with a disco ball, will serve up vintage music, cocktails, and bar snacks. It’s a collaboration between Spinster Records, which will help recruit vinyl record DJs and live acts, and Taco y Vino owner Jimmy Contreras, who will design the menu. Co-owner David Grover told the Oak Cliff Advocate that it will be “like the Viper Room, without the heroin.” 310 W. 7^th St.
• Mister Charles (likely opening within six weeks). First it was The Charles, then El Carlos Elegante. Next up in the Chuckification of Dallas is Mister Charles, Duro Hospitality’s new spot in the former Highland Park Soda Fountain on Knox Street. We don’t know what food Mister Charles will serve, but it is going to be deluxe. The floors are marble, and, like The Charles, there are great big sculptures everywhere. White linen tablecloths are already on the tables, but some construction still remains. I’d guess they’re a month away, maybe less. Duro opens its businesses quietly, without media fanfare, so that only those in the know visit during the first few weeks. Time to start working your social connections. 3229 Knox St.
• Via Triozzi (likely opening within two months). First-time restaurateur Leigh Hutchinson recruited Modesto Rodriguez, a former chef at Nonna, Carbone’s, and his own Venezuelan-American gem Modest Rogers, to lead the team for this Italian pasta place on Lower Greenville. The awnings are up, and although they did their best to paper over the windows, I’m thinking we should have some noodles in four to six weeks. 1806 Greenville Ave.
• Petra and the Beast (opening in mid to late summer). Only two weekends remain for this iconic restaurant’s equally iconic original location in a historic gas station—a location that was always meant to be temporary. Petra is moving to the former Lakewood Smokehouse, and things are looking good: the bar top is in, and so are loads of shelving units for chef-owner Misti Norris to store her pickles, preserves, vinegars, and eclectic decorations. Fingers crossed that one of the best restaurants of the last decade will only be closed for a few weeks. 1901 Abrams Rd.
• Green Point Seafood and Oyster Bar (opening in late summer). Beverley’s owner Greg Katz is going East Coast for this one on Knox, just down the block from Mister Charles. It’ll feature oysters, seafood towers, and cocktails. But it’s still very much under construction, and the floors are stacked with materials rather than tables and chairs. I’d suggest patience on this one. We might be grabbing our oysters after the peak of the summer heat. 3219 Knox St.
• Kaiyo (opening later this year). Shoyo chef-owner Jimmy Park’s more casual sushi bar will occupy the space that was for 20 years the historic sushi spot Teppo. Teppo was starting to fray a little by the end, but Kaiyo should reinject energy into the space. Right now, it’s a full-on construction site, full of pipes, boards, and other materials. While I obviously want to visit Kaiyo this summer, early autumn looks more likely. 2014 Greenville Ave.
• Royal Bastard (opening in 2024). If you missed our podcast with Nick Badovinus, take away this: his next project, the tiny but “unapologetically premium” Royal Bastard in the space formerly known as the King’s Cabaret, will be opening next year. (My boss, Tim Rogers, called King’s Cabaret a “terrible, terrible strip joint,” but of course he only knew of it by reputation.) Badovinus says it’s “very bar-focused,” “unabashedly premium,” and likely to open in early 2024. Also, they removed the stripper pole. 1602 Market Center Blvd.

The post Here’s the Latest on This Summer’s Most Interesting Dallas Restaurant Openings appeared first on D Magazine.

Meet our experts:

• Sawsan Abublan, co-owner of fast-casual chain Shawarma Press
• Tanner Agar, co-owner of upscale restaurant Rye and cocktail bar Apothecary
• Jon Alexis, restaurateur behind TJ’s Seafood, Malibu Poke, Escondido, and Ramble Room
• J.R. Muñoz, owner of the bars Will Call and Elm Street Saloon

I asked each of them to think about how Dallas diners have changed their habits and preferences. Here’s what they had to say. (My comments and subject transitions are in italics.)

Read part one: What Must Happen Before a Restaurant Can Open?
Part two: How Do Restaurants Choose Their Locations?
Part three: What Are the Most Surprising Hidden Costs of the Restaurant Business?
Part four: How and When Do Restaurants Decide to Raise Prices?
Part five: What Is the Right Number of Employees for a Restaurant?
Part six: What Changes When a Restaurant Opens a Second Location?

Do we want comfort foods, or to try new things?

Jon Alexis: What diners want has radically changed in the last three or four years. When life seemed calmer, people wanted restaurants to educate them, excite them, intrigue them, surprise them. A lot of designing a new restaurant concept was, how do I create something different and new? There’s already 26 ramen places, how do I put my spin on ramen?

Today it’s so much more back to—people just want to be fed and forget about their problems for an hour. Concept development has changed remarkably, from how do I get attention with something new, to how do we make something really comfortable that will make somebody’s life better and somebody happier? It’s less about the new innovation, and more about how we take care of people.

At TJ’s when I had a special, I used to sell 50 to 60 a night of the special, and now I sell 20 a night of the special. I have the same amount of diners, but they want the thing they’ve been craving for the past six months.

Sawsan Abublan: Dallas-area diners have become adventurous when it comes to trying new foods. I especially noticed an increase in younger-generation customers. They’re eager to try new things and share their experiences with others on social media. In our case [after the pandemic], we gained new customers who wanted fresh flavors—especially young adults who never thought they’d stay home for over a year!

Changing habits: drinking preferences, the end of cash, and going vegan

J.R. Muñoz: I just had a conversation with one of the guys from Deep Ellum Brewing about how the younger generation doesn’t really care about craft or draft beers. They want to drink the hard stuff. The craft beer, the flavors that it has with it, maybe [age] 28 and above kind of got tired of drinking your typical light beers and that’s where the craft thing came from. But tequila’s definitely the number-one thing now these days.

During the week, when you get tourists in, people coming for conventions or traveling for business, they’re interested in trying local beers. During the week is when we sell drafts. On the weekends it’s all about ranch waters, cocktails. But the older generation that likes craft beers, that’s the generation traveling on business.

Tanner Agar: I do think that in Dallas people don’t appreciate that the public will pay to eat vegetables that are well-delivered. Yes, we’re the home of the steakhouse, I don’t know that anybody does this the steakhouse experience better than Dallas. But there’s absolutely room for beautiful products with vegetables. So much of the time people tell me, “my favorite dish was the cactus,” or “my favorite dish was the roasted vegetables.”

Rye has become a very popular vegetarian restaurant. People come to Apothecary and say, “we read about you on our vegan app. We’re here to eat the vegan food.” We’re like, this is a cocktail lounge. It wasn’t supposed to be about the food! The vegan bolognese at Apothecary is a massive hit. Non-vegans come in and eat it regularly. There’s a guy who gets it every week.

So it’s funny. We spend so much time in our meetings being like, “guys, we got to think of more vegetarian stuff.”

J.R. Muñoz: The biggest thing I always talk about is the cash. At the end of the night you used to be able to tip out your bartenders in cash. Now since there’s hardly any cash transactions, you pretty much have to total all their tips and pay them on a later day. There’s not cash to pull out of the register. Now that you can pay on your phone, there’s even less cash.

If you got robbed there’s not much that anybody can get these days. There’s not as much cash in the building as there used to be, if you heard old bar tales about how the safe got robbed and $15,000 got taken. I used to hardly ever go to the bank unless I was depositing extra cash, and now I have to go to the bank to bring petty cash in.

The post How Are Dallas Diners Evolving? appeared first on D Magazine.

Peking duck is an iconic dish that originates in Beijing. In addition to sliced juicy duck meat and crispy skin, the dish includes thin pancakes, hoisin sauce, and julienned scallions and cucumbers. The dish is deeply rooted in Chinese cuisine, and it’s not often that a restaurant can get it right. Enter: Bamboo House.

The restaurant’s Plano location is the most recent addition to the Humble-based chain, which touts that it has the best Peking duck in town. A Houston location opened in 2019 but closed in 2020, and an Austin location opened in 2022. The restaurant specializes in numbing Szechuan cuisine, but its show-stopping and most popular item is the Peking duck.

At a recent lunch, my table of three picked through Bamboo House’s colossal menu: half Peking duck—which comes with soup made with leftover bones—pea sprouts sautéed with garlic, cold steamed chicken with chile sauce, stinky tofu, and salt and pepper fish.

The food comes quickly and steaming. The duck is presented on a bamboo tray with a metal steamer basket of pancakes, two dishes of tiny brown sugar and plum sauce, a plate with hoisin, cucumbers, and scallions, and a duck-shaped dish upon which sits deliciously crisp roast duck. The half-order of Peking duck comes with 10 thin pancakes, while a whole order comes with 20. Extra pancakes can be ordered at $6.95 for 10. Ten was plenty for each of us to get a taste.

Assembling the wrapped duck is a ritual: place a pancake in your hand and coat the center with hoisin sauce. Place some scallions and cucumbers on top, and then add the duck. If you want to, drizzle some sugar or add a spoonful of plum sauce.

Peking duck is technically a roasted duck, but it’s not to be confused with Cantonese roast duck. The latter is stuffed with star anise, ginger, spring onion, and other herbs and spices. Peking duck isn’t. The cooking technique differs, too. The traditional way of cooking Peking duck involves pumping air in between the skin and meat so the skin stays crisp while it cooks in an oven. Cantonese roast ducks are boiled to keep the skin tight. (It’s probably best explained here.) Their taste and aromas are different.

If you can get a bite with all of the sweet, tangy, and savory parts in it, you’ll realize why Bamboo House offers one of the most textbook Peking ducks in North Texas. The dish is a texture rollercoaster, and it’s hard to stop at just one or two wraps. The skin was a bit too greasy for me, but it still delivered a satisfying crunch.

The other dishes were just as good. The accompanying soup had winter melon, duck bones, and meat in a basic broth. The stinky tofu was fried and drenched in a drippy Szechuan pepper sauce. The steamed chicken—served cold—was one of my favorites. It was sliced and bathed in a red-hot chile sauce and was dusted with scallions and peanuts.

Before it closed in 2019 due to a fire, one of my favorite places for Peking duck in North Texas was Mr. Wok Asian Bistro in Plano. You had to call a few days in advance to reserve your duck because the cooking process took several days. When you finally got to sit down and eat, a staff member would carve the entire duck tableside and plate it in front of you. I loved the splendor.

But I have a feeling Bamboo House won’t need a show like that to attract its own loyal diners.

Bamboo House, 2301 N. Central Expy. Ste. 195., Plano.

The post First Bite: Peking Duck at Plano’s Bamboo House Lives Up To the Hype appeared first on D Magazine.

Peking duck is an iconic dish that originates in Beijing. In addition to sliced juicy duck meat and crispy skin, the dish includes thin pancakes, hoisin sauce, and julienned scallions and cucumbers. The dish is deeply rooted in Chinese cuisine, and it’s not often that a restaurant can get it right. Enter: Bamboo House.

The restaurant’s Plano location is the most recent addition to the Humble-based chain, which touts that it has the best Peking duck in town. A Houston location opened in 2019 but closed in 2020, and an Austin location opened in 2022. The restaurant specializes in numbing Szechuan cuisine, but its show-stopping and most popular item is the Peking duck.

At a recent lunch, my table of three picked through Bamboo House’s colossal menu: half Peking duck—which comes with soup made with leftover bones—pea sprouts sautéed with garlic, cold steamed chicken with chile sauce, stinky tofu, and salt and pepper fish.

The food comes quickly and steaming. The duck is presented on a bamboo tray with a metal steamer basket of pancakes, two dishes of tiny brown sugar and plum sauce, a plate with hoisin, cucumbers, and scallions, and a duck-shaped dish upon which sits deliciously crisp roast duck. The half-order of Peking duck comes with 10 thin pancakes, while a whole order comes with 20. Extra pancakes can be ordered at $6.95 for 10. Ten was plenty for each of us to get a taste.

Assembling the wrapped duck is a ritual: place a pancake in your hand and coat the center with hoisin sauce. Place some scallions and cucumbers on top, and then add the duck. If you want to, drizzle some sugar or add a spoonful of plum sauce.

Peking duck is technically a roasted duck, but it’s not to be confused with Cantonese roast duck. The latter is stuffed with star anise, ginger, spring onion, and other herbs and spices. Peking duck isn’t. The cooking technique differs, too. The traditional way of cooking Peking duck involves pumping air in between the skin and meat so the skin stays crisp while it cooks in an oven. Cantonese roast ducks are boiled to keep the skin tight. (It’s probably best explained here.) Their taste and aromas are different.

If you can get a bite with all of the sweet, tangy, and savory parts in it, you’ll realize why Bamboo House offers one of the most textbook Peking ducks in North Texas. The dish is a texture rollercoaster, and it’s hard to stop at just one or two wraps. The skin was a bit too greasy for me, but it still delivered a satisfying crunch.

The other dishes were just as good. The accompanying soup had winter melon, duck bones, and meat in a basic broth. The stinky tofu was fried and drenched in a drippy Szechuan pepper sauce. The steamed chicken—served cold—was one of my favorites. It was sliced and bathed in a red-hot chile sauce and was dusted with scallions and peanuts.

Before it closed in 2019 due to a fire, one of my favorite places for Peking duck in North Texas was Mr. Wok Asian Bistro in Plano. You had to call a few days in advance to reserve your duck because the cooking process took several days. When you finally got to sit down and eat, a staff member would carve the entire duck tableside and plate it in front of you. I loved the splendor.

But I have a feeling Bamboo House won’t need a show like that to attract its own loyal diners.

Bamboo House, 2301 N. Central Expy. Ste. 195., Plano.

The post Juneteenth Celebration at Hotel Dryce Highlights History And Black Food Vendors of Fort Worth appeared first on D Magazine.

Peking duck is an iconic dish that originates in Beijing. In addition to sliced juicy duck meat and crispy skin, the dish includes thin pancakes, hoisin sauce, and julienned scallions and cucumbers. The dish is deeply rooted in Chinese cuisine, and it’s not often that a restaurant can get it right. Enter: Bamboo House.

The restaurant’s Plano location is the most recent addition to the Humble-based chain, which touts that it has the best Peking duck in town. A Houston location opened in 2019 but closed in 2020, and an Austin location opened in 2022. The restaurant specializes in numbing Szechuan cuisine, but its show-stopping and most popular item is the Peking duck.

At a recent lunch, my table of three picked through Bamboo House’s colossal menu: half Peking duck—which comes with soup made with leftover bones—pea sprouts sautéed with garlic, cold steamed chicken with chile sauce, stinky tofu, and salt and pepper fish.

The food comes quickly and steaming. The duck is presented on a bamboo tray with a metal steamer basket of pancakes, two dishes of tiny brown sugar and plum sauce, a plate with hoisin, cucumbers, and scallions, and a duck-shaped dish upon which sits deliciously crisp roast duck. The half-order of Peking duck comes with 10 thin pancakes, while a whole order comes with 20. Extra pancakes can be ordered at $6.95 for 10. Ten was plenty for each of us to get a taste.

Assembling the wrapped duck is a ritual: place a pancake in your hand and coat the center with hoisin sauce. Place some scallions and cucumbers on top, and then add the duck. If you want to, drizzle some sugar or add a spoonful of plum sauce.

Peking duck is technically a roasted duck, but it’s not to be confused with Cantonese roast duck. The latter is stuffed with star anise, ginger, spring onion, and other herbs and spices. Peking duck isn’t. The cooking technique differs, too. The traditional way of cooking Peking duck involves pumping air in between the skin and meat so the skin stays crisp while it cooks in an oven. Cantonese roast ducks are boiled to keep the skin tight. (It’s probably best explained here.) Their taste and aromas are different.

If you can get a bite with all of the sweet, tangy, and savory parts in it, you’ll realize why Bamboo House offers one of the most textbook Peking ducks in North Texas. The dish is a texture rollercoaster, and it’s hard to stop at just one or two wraps. The skin was a bit too greasy for me, but it still delivered a satisfying crunch.

The other dishes were just as good. The accompanying soup had winter melon, duck bones, and meat in a basic broth. The stinky tofu was fried and drenched in a drippy Szechuan pepper sauce. The steamed chicken—served cold—was one of my favorites. It was sliced and bathed in a red-hot chile sauce and was dusted with scallions and peanuts.

Before it closed in 2019 due to a fire, one of my favorite places for Peking duck in North Texas was Mr. Wok Asian Bistro in Plano. You had to call a few days in advance to reserve your duck because the cooking process took several days. When you finally got to sit down and eat, a staff member would carve the entire duck tableside and plate it in front of you. I loved the splendor.

But I have a feeling Bamboo House won’t need a show like that to attract its own loyal diners.

Bamboo House, 2301 N. Central Expy. Ste. 195., Plano.

The post What Changes When a Restaurant Opens a Second Location? appeared first on D Magazine.

Peking duck is an iconic dish that originates in Beijing. In addition to sliced juicy duck meat and crispy skin, the dish includes thin pancakes, hoisin sauce, and julienned scallions and cucumbers. The dish is deeply rooted in Chinese cuisine, and it’s not often that a restaurant can get it right. Enter: Bamboo House.

The restaurant’s Plano location is the most recent addition to the Humble-based chain, which touts that it has the best Peking duck in town. A Houston location opened in 2019 but closed in 2020, and an Austin location opened in 2022. The restaurant specializes in numbing Szechuan cuisine, but its show-stopping and most popular item is the Peking duck.

At a recent lunch, my table of three picked through Bamboo House’s colossal menu: half Peking duck—which comes with soup made with leftover bones—pea sprouts sautéed with garlic, cold steamed chicken with chile sauce, stinky tofu, and salt and pepper fish.

The food comes quickly and steaming. The duck is presented on a bamboo tray with a metal steamer basket of pancakes, two dishes of tiny brown sugar and plum sauce, a plate with hoisin, cucumbers, and scallions, and a duck-shaped dish upon which sits deliciously crisp roast duck. The half-order of Peking duck comes with 10 thin pancakes, while a whole order comes with 20. Extra pancakes can be ordered at $6.95 for 10. Ten was plenty for each of us to get a taste.

Assembling the wrapped duck is a ritual: place a pancake in your hand and coat the center with hoisin sauce. Place some scallions and cucumbers on top, and then add the duck. If you want to, drizzle some sugar or add a spoonful of plum sauce.

Peking duck is technically a roasted duck, but it’s not to be confused with Cantonese roast duck. The latter is stuffed with star anise, ginger, spring onion, and other herbs and spices. Peking duck isn’t. The cooking technique differs, too. The traditional way of cooking Peking duck involves pumping air in between the skin and meat so the skin stays crisp while it cooks in an oven. Cantonese roast ducks are boiled to keep the skin tight. (It’s probably best explained here.) Their taste and aromas are different.

If you can get a bite with all of the sweet, tangy, and savory parts in it, you’ll realize why Bamboo House offers one of the most textbook Peking ducks in North Texas. The dish is a texture rollercoaster, and it’s hard to stop at just one or two wraps. The skin was a bit too greasy for me, but it still delivered a satisfying crunch.

The other dishes were just as good. The accompanying soup had winter melon, duck bones, and meat in a basic broth. The stinky tofu was fried and drenched in a drippy Szechuan pepper sauce. The steamed chicken—served cold—was one of my favorites. It was sliced and bathed in a red-hot chile sauce and was dusted with scallions and peanuts.

Before it closed in 2019 due to a fire, one of my favorite places for Peking duck in North Texas was Mr. Wok Asian Bistro in Plano. You had to call a few days in advance to reserve your duck because the cooking process took several days. When you finally got to sit down and eat, a staff member would carve the entire duck tableside and plate it in front of you. I loved the splendor.

But I have a feeling Bamboo House won’t need a show like that to attract its own loyal diners.

Bamboo House, 2301 N. Central Expy. Ste. 195., Plano.

The post Sun’s Out, Buns Out: The Best Hot Dogs in Dallas appeared first on D Magazine.

Peking duck is an iconic dish that originates in Beijing. In addition to sliced juicy duck meat and crispy skin, the dish includes thin pancakes, hoisin sauce, and julienned scallions and cucumbers. The dish is deeply rooted in Chinese cuisine, and it’s not often that a restaurant can get it right. Enter: Bamboo House.

The restaurant’s Plano location is the most recent addition to the Humble-based chain, which touts that it has the best Peking duck in town. A Houston location opened in 2019 but closed in 2020, and an Austin location opened in 2022. The restaurant specializes in numbing Szechuan cuisine, but its show-stopping and most popular item is the Peking duck.

At a recent lunch, my table of three picked through Bamboo House’s colossal menu: half Peking duck—which comes with soup made with leftover bones—pea sprouts sautéed with garlic, cold steamed chicken with chile sauce, stinky tofu, and salt and pepper fish.

The food comes quickly and steaming. The duck is presented on a bamboo tray with a metal steamer basket of pancakes, two dishes of tiny brown sugar and plum sauce, a plate with hoisin, cucumbers, and scallions, and a duck-shaped dish upon which sits deliciously crisp roast duck. The half-order of Peking duck comes with 10 thin pancakes, while a whole order comes with 20. Extra pancakes can be ordered at $6.95 for 10. Ten was plenty for each of us to get a taste.

Assembling the wrapped duck is a ritual: place a pancake in your hand and coat the center with hoisin sauce. Place some scallions and cucumbers on top, and then add the duck. If you want to, drizzle some sugar or add a spoonful of plum sauce.

Peking duck is technically a roasted duck, but it’s not to be confused with Cantonese roast duck. The latter is stuffed with star anise, ginger, spring onion, and other herbs and spices. Peking duck isn’t. The cooking technique differs, too. The traditional way of cooking Peking duck involves pumping air in between the skin and meat so the skin stays crisp while it cooks in an oven. Cantonese roast ducks are boiled to keep the skin tight. (It’s probably best explained here.) Their taste and aromas are different.

If you can get a bite with all of the sweet, tangy, and savory parts in it, you’ll realize why Bamboo House offers one of the most textbook Peking ducks in North Texas. The dish is a texture rollercoaster, and it’s hard to stop at just one or two wraps. The skin was a bit too greasy for me, but it still delivered a satisfying crunch.

The other dishes were just as good. The accompanying soup had winter melon, duck bones, and meat in a basic broth. The stinky tofu was fried and drenched in a drippy Szechuan pepper sauce. The steamed chicken—served cold—was one of my favorites. It was sliced and bathed in a red-hot chile sauce and was dusted with scallions and peanuts.

Before it closed in 2019 due to a fire, one of my favorite places for Peking duck in North Texas was Mr. Wok Asian Bistro in Plano. You had to call a few days in advance to reserve your duck because the cooking process took several days. When you finally got to sit down and eat, a staff member would carve the entire duck tableside and plate it in front of you. I loved the splendor.

But I have a feeling Bamboo House won’t need a show like that to attract its own loyal diners.

Bamboo House, 2301 N. Central Expy. Ste. 195., Plano.

The post Where To Eat Dumplings In Dallas-Fort Worth appeared first on D Magazine.

Peking duck is an iconic dish that originates in Beijing. In addition to sliced juicy duck meat and crispy skin, the dish includes thin pancakes, hoisin sauce, and julienned scallions and cucumbers. The dish is deeply rooted in Chinese cuisine, and it’s not often that a restaurant can get it right. Enter: Bamboo House.

The restaurant’s Plano location is the most recent addition to the Humble-based chain, which touts that it has the best Peking duck in town. A Houston location opened in 2019 but closed in 2020, and an Austin location opened in 2022. The restaurant specializes in numbing Szechuan cuisine, but its show-stopping and most popular item is the Peking duck.

At a recent lunch, my table of three picked through Bamboo House’s colossal menu: half Peking duck—which comes with soup made with leftover bones—pea sprouts sautéed with garlic, cold steamed chicken with chile sauce, stinky tofu, and salt and pepper fish.

The food comes quickly and steaming. The duck is presented on a bamboo tray with a metal steamer basket of pancakes, two dishes of tiny brown sugar and plum sauce, a plate with hoisin, cucumbers, and scallions, and a duck-shaped dish upon which sits deliciously crisp roast duck. The half-order of Peking duck comes with 10 thin pancakes, while a whole order comes with 20. Extra pancakes can be ordered at $6.95 for 10. Ten was plenty for each of us to get a taste.

Assembling the wrapped duck is a ritual: place a pancake in your hand and coat the center with hoisin sauce. Place some scallions and cucumbers on top, and then add the duck. If you want to, drizzle some sugar or add a spoonful of plum sauce.

Peking duck is technically a roasted duck, but it’s not to be confused with Cantonese roast duck. The latter is stuffed with star anise, ginger, spring onion, and other herbs and spices. Peking duck isn’t. The cooking technique differs, too. The traditional way of cooking Peking duck involves pumping air in between the skin and meat so the skin stays crisp while it cooks in an oven. Cantonese roast ducks are boiled to keep the skin tight. (It’s probably best explained here.) Their taste and aromas are different.

If you can get a bite with all of the sweet, tangy, and savory parts in it, you’ll realize why Bamboo House offers one of the most textbook Peking ducks in North Texas. The dish is a texture rollercoaster, and it’s hard to stop at just one or two wraps. The skin was a bit too greasy for me, but it still delivered a satisfying crunch.

The other dishes were just as good. The accompanying soup had winter melon, duck bones, and meat in a basic broth. The stinky tofu was fried and drenched in a drippy Szechuan pepper sauce. The steamed chicken—served cold—was one of my favorites. It was sliced and bathed in a red-hot chile sauce and was dusted with scallions and peanuts.

Before it closed in 2019 due to a fire, one of my favorite places for Peking duck in North Texas was Mr. Wok Asian Bistro in Plano. You had to call a few days in advance to reserve your duck because the cooking process took several days. When you finally got to sit down and eat, a staff member would carve the entire duck tableside and plate it in front of you. I loved the splendor.

But I have a feeling Bamboo House won’t need a show like that to attract its own loyal diners.

Bamboo House, 2301 N. Central Expy. Ste. 195., Plano.

The post What Is the Right Number of Employees for a Restaurant? appeared first on D Magazine.

Peking duck is an iconic dish that originates in Beijing. In addition to sliced juicy duck meat and crispy skin, the dish includes thin pancakes, hoisin sauce, and julienned scallions and cucumbers. The dish is deeply rooted in Chinese cuisine, and it’s not often that a restaurant can get it right. Enter: Bamboo House.

The restaurant’s Plano location is the most recent addition to the Humble-based chain, which touts that it has the best Peking duck in town. A Houston location opened in 2019 but closed in 2020, and an Austin location opened in 2022. The restaurant specializes in numbing Szechuan cuisine, but its show-stopping and most popular item is the Peking duck.

At a recent lunch, my table of three picked through Bamboo House’s colossal menu: half Peking duck—which comes with soup made with leftover bones—pea sprouts sautéed with garlic, cold steamed chicken with chile sauce, stinky tofu, and salt and pepper fish.

The food comes quickly and steaming. The duck is presented on a bamboo tray with a metal steamer basket of pancakes, two dishes of tiny brown sugar and plum sauce, a plate with hoisin, cucumbers, and scallions, and a duck-shaped dish upon which sits deliciously crisp roast duck. The half-order of Peking duck comes with 10 thin pancakes, while a whole order comes with 20. Extra pancakes can be ordered at $6.95 for 10. Ten was plenty for each of us to get a taste.

Assembling the wrapped duck is a ritual: place a pancake in your hand and coat the center with hoisin sauce. Place some scallions and cucumbers on top, and then add the duck. If you want to, drizzle some sugar or add a spoonful of plum sauce.

Peking duck is technically a roasted duck, but it’s not to be confused with Cantonese roast duck. The latter is stuffed with star anise, ginger, spring onion, and other herbs and spices. Peking duck isn’t. The cooking technique differs, too. The traditional way of cooking Peking duck involves pumping air in between the skin and meat so the skin stays crisp while it cooks in an oven. Cantonese roast ducks are boiled to keep the skin tight. (It’s probably best explained here.) Their taste and aromas are different.

If you can get a bite with all of the sweet, tangy, and savory parts in it, you’ll realize why Bamboo House offers one of the most textbook Peking ducks in North Texas. The dish is a texture rollercoaster, and it’s hard to stop at just one or two wraps. The skin was a bit too greasy for me, but it still delivered a satisfying crunch.

The other dishes were just as good. The accompanying soup had winter melon, duck bones, and meat in a basic broth. The stinky tofu was fried and drenched in a drippy Szechuan pepper sauce. The steamed chicken—served cold—was one of my favorites. It was sliced and bathed in a red-hot chile sauce and was dusted with scallions and peanuts.

Before it closed in 2019 due to a fire, one of my favorite places for Peking duck in North Texas was Mr. Wok Asian Bistro in Plano. You had to call a few days in advance to reserve your duck because the cooking process took several days. When you finally got to sit down and eat, a staff member would carve the entire duck tableside and plate it in front of you. I loved the splendor.

But I have a feeling Bamboo House won’t need a show like that to attract its own loyal diners.

Bamboo House, 2301 N. Central Expy. Ste. 195., Plano.

The post Yes, Dallas Is America’s Losingest City in the James Beard Awards appeared first on D Magazine.

Peking duck is an iconic dish that originates in Beijing. In addition to sliced juicy duck meat and crispy skin, the dish includes thin pancakes, hoisin sauce, and julienned scallions and cucumbers. The dish is deeply rooted in Chinese cuisine, and it’s not often that a restaurant can get it right. Enter: Bamboo House.

The restaurant’s Plano location is the most recent addition to the Humble-based chain, which touts that it has the best Peking duck in town. A Houston location opened in 2019 but closed in 2020, and an Austin location opened in 2022. The restaurant specializes in numbing Szechuan cuisine, but its show-stopping and most popular item is the Peking duck.

At a recent lunch, my table of three picked through Bamboo House’s colossal menu: half Peking duck—which comes with soup made with leftover bones—pea sprouts sautéed with garlic, cold steamed chicken with chile sauce, stinky tofu, and salt and pepper fish.

The food comes quickly and steaming. The duck is presented on a bamboo tray with a metal steamer basket of pancakes, two dishes of tiny brown sugar and plum sauce, a plate with hoisin, cucumbers, and scallions, and a duck-shaped dish upon which sits deliciously crisp roast duck. The half-order of Peking duck comes with 10 thin pancakes, while a whole order comes with 20. Extra pancakes can be ordered at $6.95 for 10. Ten was plenty for each of us to get a taste.

Assembling the wrapped duck is a ritual: place a pancake in your hand and coat the center with hoisin sauce. Place some scallions and cucumbers on top, and then add the duck. If you want to, drizzle some sugar or add a spoonful of plum sauce.

Peking duck is technically a roasted duck, but it’s not to be confused with Cantonese roast duck. The latter is stuffed with star anise, ginger, spring onion, and other herbs and spices. Peking duck isn’t. The cooking technique differs, too. The traditional way of cooking Peking duck involves pumping air in between the skin and meat so the skin stays crisp while it cooks in an oven. Cantonese roast ducks are boiled to keep the skin tight. (It’s probably best explained here.) Their taste and aromas are different.

If you can get a bite with all of the sweet, tangy, and savory parts in it, you’ll realize why Bamboo House offers one of the most textbook Peking ducks in North Texas. The dish is a texture rollercoaster, and it’s hard to stop at just one or two wraps. The skin was a bit too greasy for me, but it still delivered a satisfying crunch.

The other dishes were just as good. The accompanying soup had winter melon, duck bones, and meat in a basic broth. The stinky tofu was fried and drenched in a drippy Szechuan pepper sauce. The steamed chicken—served cold—was one of my favorites. It was sliced and bathed in a red-hot chile sauce and was dusted with scallions and peanuts.

Before it closed in 2019 due to a fire, one of my favorite places for Peking duck in North Texas was Mr. Wok Asian Bistro in Plano. You had to call a few days in advance to reserve your duck because the cooking process took several days. When you finally got to sit down and eat, a staff member would carve the entire duck tableside and plate it in front of you. I loved the splendor.

But I have a feeling Bamboo House won’t need a show like that to attract its own loyal diners.

Bamboo House, 2301 N. Central Expy. Ste. 195., Plano.

The post SuTi Craft Distillery Brings Vietnamese Moonshine to the U.S. appeared first on D Magazine.

Peking duck is an iconic dish that originates in Beijing. In addition to sliced juicy duck meat and crispy skin, the dish includes thin pancakes, hoisin sauce, and julienned scallions and cucumbers. The dish is deeply rooted in Chinese cuisine, and it’s not often that a restaurant can get it right. Enter: Bamboo House.

The restaurant’s Plano location is the most recent addition to the Humble-based chain, which touts that it has the best Peking duck in town. A Houston location opened in 2019 but closed in 2020, and an Austin location opened in 2022. The restaurant specializes in numbing Szechuan cuisine, but its show-stopping and most popular item is the Peking duck.

At a recent lunch, my table of three picked through Bamboo House’s colossal menu: half Peking duck—which comes with soup made with leftover bones—pea sprouts sautéed with garlic, cold steamed chicken with chile sauce, stinky tofu, and salt and pepper fish.

The food comes quickly and steaming. The duck is presented on a bamboo tray with a metal steamer basket of pancakes, two dishes of tiny brown sugar and plum sauce, a plate with hoisin, cucumbers, and scallions, and a duck-shaped dish upon which sits deliciously crisp roast duck. The half-order of Peking duck comes with 10 thin pancakes, while a whole order comes with 20. Extra pancakes can be ordered at $6.95 for 10. Ten was plenty for each of us to get a taste.

Assembling the wrapped duck is a ritual: place a pancake in your hand and coat the center with hoisin sauce. Place some scallions and cucumbers on top, and then add the duck. If you want to, drizzle some sugar or add a spoonful of plum sauce.

Peking duck is technically a roasted duck, but it’s not to be confused with Cantonese roast duck. The latter is stuffed with star anise, ginger, spring onion, and other herbs and spices. Peking duck isn’t. The cooking technique differs, too. The traditional way of cooking Peking duck involves pumping air in between the skin and meat so the skin stays crisp while it cooks in an oven. Cantonese roast ducks are boiled to keep the skin tight. (It’s probably best explained here.) Their taste and aromas are different.

If you can get a bite with all of the sweet, tangy, and savory parts in it, you’ll realize why Bamboo House offers one of the most textbook Peking ducks in North Texas. The dish is a texture rollercoaster, and it’s hard to stop at just one or two wraps. The skin was a bit too greasy for me, but it still delivered a satisfying crunch.

The other dishes were just as good. The accompanying soup had winter melon, duck bones, and meat in a basic broth. The stinky tofu was fried and drenched in a drippy Szechuan pepper sauce. The steamed chicken—served cold—was one of my favorites. It was sliced and bathed in a red-hot chile sauce and was dusted with scallions and peanuts.

Before it closed in 2019 due to a fire, one of my favorite places for Peking duck in North Texas was Mr. Wok Asian Bistro in Plano. You had to call a few days in advance to reserve your duck because the cooking process took several days. When you finally got to sit down and eat, a staff member would carve the entire duck tableside and plate it in front of you. I loved the splendor.

But I have a feeling Bamboo House won’t need a show like that to attract its own loyal diners.

Bamboo House, 2301 N. Central Expy. Ste. 195., Plano.

The post Fortune House Takes a Bao on Lowest Greenville appeared first on D Magazine.

When Bamboo House arrived in Plano early May, the wait to get a taste of the Szechuan restaurant was an hour and a half. Customers gathered for bowls of hand-pulled noodles, plates of spicy peppercorn chicken, and the restaurant’s coveted Peking duck.

Peking duck is an iconic dish that originates in Beijing. In addition to sliced juicy duck meat and crispy skin, the dish includes thin pancakes, hoisin sauce, and julienned scallions and cucumbers. The dish is deeply rooted in Chinese cuisine, and it’s not often that a restaurant can get it right. Enter: Bamboo House.

The restaurant’s Plano location is the most recent addition to the Humble-based chain, which touts that it has the best Peking duck in town. A Houston location opened in 2019 but closed in 2020, and an Austin location opened in 2022. The restaurant specializes in numbing Szechuan cuisine, but its show-stopping and most popular item is the Peking duck.

At a recent lunch, my table of three picked through Bamboo House’s colossal menu: half Peking duck—which comes with soup made with leftover bones—pea sprouts sautéed with garlic, cold steamed chicken with chile sauce, stinky tofu, and salt and pepper fish.

The food comes quickly and steaming. The duck is presented on a bamboo tray with a metal steamer basket of pancakes, two dishes of tiny brown sugar and plum sauce, a plate with hoisin, cucumbers, and scallions, and a duck-shaped dish upon which sits deliciously crisp roast duck. The half-order of Peking duck comes with 10 thin pancakes, while a whole order comes with 20. Extra pancakes can be ordered at $6.95 for 10. Ten was plenty for each of us to get a taste.

Assembling the wrapped duck is a ritual: place a pancake in your hand and coat the center with hoisin sauce. Place some scallions and cucumbers on top, and then add the duck. If you want to, drizzle some sugar or add a spoonful of plum sauce.

Peking duck is technically a roasted duck, but it’s not to be confused with Cantonese roast duck. The latter is stuffed with star anise, ginger, spring onion, and other herbs and spices. Peking duck isn’t. The cooking technique differs, too. The traditional way of cooking Peking duck involves pumping air in between the skin and meat so the skin stays crisp while it cooks in an oven. Cantonese roast ducks are boiled to keep the skin tight. (It’s probably best explained here.) Their taste and aromas are different.

If you can get a bite with all of the sweet, tangy, and savory parts in it, you’ll realize why Bamboo House offers one of the most textbook Peking ducks in North Texas. The dish is a texture rollercoaster, and it’s hard to stop at just one or two wraps. The skin was a bit too greasy for me, but it still delivered a satisfying crunch.

The other dishes were just as good. The accompanying soup had winter melon, duck bones, and meat in a basic broth. The stinky tofu was fried and drenched in a drippy Szechuan pepper sauce. The steamed chicken—served cold—was one of my favorites. It was sliced and bathed in a red-hot chile sauce and was dusted with scallions and peanuts.

Before it closed in 2019 due to a fire, one of my favorite places for Peking duck in North Texas was Mr. Wok Asian Bistro in Plano. You had to call a few days in advance to reserve your duck because the cooking process took several days. When you finally got to sit down and eat, a staff member would carve the entire duck tableside and plate it in front of you. I loved the splendor.

But I have a feeling Bamboo House won’t need a show like that to attract its own loyal diners.

Bamboo House, 2301 N. Central Expy. Ste. 195., Plano.

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