The food comes out wrapped in a banana leaf, folded shut, hot enough that you feel it through your fingers when you pick it up. Nobody opens it for you.
Peel it back and you catch a face full of steam. Coconut, chili, and something green underneath that you won’t be able to place.
That’s nasi bungkus. If you eat one good new thing this month, make it this.
Continue readingFiled under Steven Doyle
The Canadians have landed on Maple Avenue, and the menu is more interesting than the announcement was.
JOEY Maple occupies 2508 Maple Ave., next door to the Old Warsaw, and the opening date depends on which page of the company’s own site you read. The location page says September 6. The hiring listings say the restaurant opens to the public on September 10. Either way the doors are open now or open Thursday, so call before you drive over.
Continue readingFiled under Steven Doyle
By Miles Archer Pictures by Joey Stewart
A new Indian restaurant has opened on Forest Lane, and the couple behind it may be familiar to longtime Dallas diners. Golden Leaf Bar & Grill recently opened at 8989 Forest Lane, near Forest and Abrams, from Sumathi and Ramesh Sundaram, the husband-and-wife team who opened the original Shivas Bar & Grill on Lower Greenville in 2014.
At Shivas, Sumathi was the chef and ran the kitchen while Ramesh handled the front of the house. Before coming to Dallas, the couple operated two restaurants in Lexington, Kentucky, Bombay Bar & Grill and Banana Leaf. They also spent about a decade living in Singapore before making their way to Dallas.
Continue readingFiled under Joey Stewart
Abel Gonzales Jr. is East Dallas, and not in the way people say that about a neighborhood they moved to. Born in Dallas, raised on the east side, and never left. Fair Park sat close enough that the State Fair of Texas was not an annual outing so much as a season the family lived through together, first with his grandparents and parents, every year without a skip.
His father ran a restaurant, which in practice meant a man who worked constantly and rarely stopped for anything. The fair was the exception. That combination, a kitchen at home and a fairground down the road, is most of the explanation for how the rest of this went.
Continue readingFiled under Steven Doyle
Three days off and the weather has not gotten the message yet. That is the Labor Day situation in Dallas, every year. The patios are open, the afternoons are still running hot, and the difference between a long easy weekend and a short sweaty one comes down to shade, a fan pointed at your table and a kitchen that can feed you without a forty-minute wait.
Five places to spend the weekend outside. And because Monday is the part people get wrong, the holiday hours are here too.
Katy Trail Ice House, 3127 Routh St. The Austin-style beer garden everybody already knows, sitting right on the trail in Uptown, which means the crowd splits evenly between people who biked in and people who drove and would like you to think they biked in. Long picnic tables, deep shade, misting fans working the edges. Doors at eleven weekdays, ten on Saturday and Sunday, and it runs to two in the morning every night of the year, Labor Day included.
The burgers are what the kitchen is known for and what you should order. Bring the dog, they are used to it. Skip Sunday afternoon unless you want the football crowd, which is a different experience than the one you came for.
Truck Yard, 5624 Sears St. off Lower Greenville. Jason Boso of Twisted Root opened it in 2013 around a childhood memory of a treehouse, and the treehouse is now a bar you climb up into. There is an Airstream bar too, plus string lights, painted trailers, roughly 15,000 square feet of shaded ground and live music most days. Big groups work here in a way they do not work anywhere else on this list.
Food comes from two directions. The house grill makes Philly cheesesteaks to order, and a rotating lineup of trucks parks in the yard daily, so round two might be tacos or barbecue depending on who pulled in. Saturday and Sunday it opens at eleven. Monday runs later in the day, closer to four, so make it your evening rather than your afternoon.
Ten Bells Tavern, 231 W. Eighth St. in Bishop Arts. The original came down in 2022 when the neighborhood turned over, and owner Meri Dahlke rebuilt a few feet away in 2025, bringing the resident backyard cats with her. Newer room, wood deck instead of gravel, same crowd. The cats are still on the payroll.
Saturday and Sunday it opens at ten, the earliest civilized start here. Monday it is three in the afternoon. The kitchen cooks from scratch, and the poblano mac and cheese made it through the move, which is the first thing regulars checked. The chicken fried steak is how you end an afternoon that got away from you.
The Wild Detectives, 314 W. Eighth St., two doors down and running at an entirely different speed. It is an independent bookstore that pours beer, wine and coffee, set in an old Oak Cliff house with a shaded back patio and a communal table out front. There is no wifi, on purpose, and that single decision changes everything about how the place feels.
Ten in the morning Saturday and Sunday, two in the afternoon on Monday, open until midnight. Go with one person and a slow conversation, or alone with something to read. If what you want from a long weekend is quiet, this is the whole list.
Vector Brewing, 9850 Walnut Hill Ln., Suite 405, in Lake Highlands. Family-owned, every beer on tap brewed on site, dog-friendly patio laid with turf, and a coffee program good enough that showing up at seven in the morning is a legitimate move rather than a confession.
The pizza is the food, and people come for it without ordering a beer, which for a brewpub is real praise. One warning that matters this weekend: they are closed Mondays, and that includes this one. Saturday and Sunday they run seven in the morning to ten at night, eight on Sunday.
Whatever you pick, shade is not a preference in September. Get there before two if you want the good table, and let the rest of the day sort itself out.
Filed under Steven Doyle
Brunch here has drifted toward the reservation, the bottomless carafe and the seventy-dollar table for two. Some mornings do not call for any of that. Five Dallas rooms where the coffee keeps coming, the plates land fast and nobody upsells you a thing.
Continue readingFiled under Steven Doyle
The film opens on a finger snap. No dialogue, no exposition, just a helicopter shot dropping out of the Manhattan sky onto a playground, and then a gang of young men moving down a street with the coiled economy of dancers pretending not to be dancers. Sixty-five years on, that prologue still works, and it works partly because of something the audience in 1961 could not have known. The block they are dancing on was already condemned.
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The elevator does the work of an overture. You step in at ground level in a parking structure off Reunion Boulevard, the doors close, and by the time they open again the city is 561 feet below and coming at you through glass on every side. On a Sunday morning that light is low and eastern and it fills the whole round room at once. Somebody hands you a mimosa before you have taken off your sunglasses.
Continue readingFiled under Steven Doyle
