This is one of those weekends where Dallas stacks everything on top of itself. Father’s Day, Juneteenth, the World Cup still running, a free block party in the Arts District, and a music calendar that goes from Randy Rogers to Killswitch Engage to the Dallas Symphony in a single Friday night. Pick your lane and go.
There is a category of restaurant that no amount of new openings can replace: the place that a family built from nothing, that has fed the same neighborhood through multiple recessions and a pandemic, that carries recipes nobody wrote down because they were never meant to leave the kitchen. Dallas and Fort Worth have more of these than most cities their size. They don’t advertise. They don’t do tasting menus. They mostly just keep showing up, which is the hardest thing in this business, and the thing worth honoring when you find it.
Ben Ojeda was a US Army cook whose food became so well-regarded during World War II that officers requested it by name. He spent years working Dallas restaurant kitchens after he came home, and in 1969 he and his wife Cecilia leased the Peter Pan Grill on Maple Avenue and renamed it Ojeda’s. A Channel 13 news reporter found them in 1971 — nine children working the floor, every recipe from family memory — and the line hasn’t really stopped since.
The signature puffed taco, a corn tortilla fried in lard until it balloons into something light and crispy and entirely its own thing, is one of the most specific dishes in Dallas and one of the hardest to find done right anywhere else. The weekday specials run $8.75 and are named after family members. Linda Ojeda Cashat still manages the Maple Avenue location. Open daily from 10:30 a.m. (214) 528-8383.
The family traces the story back to 1728, when one of the elder Kubys was known for making venison wurst in Kaiserslautern, Germany. Karl Kuby brought the operation to Snider Plaza in 1961 — a European meat market and restaurant tucked into the Park Cities shopping district that has been an institution for sixty-five years without ever particularly trying to become one. The market side carries house-made sausages, imported German grocery items hard to find anywhere else in Dallas, and a wild game processing operation where hunters can bring in elk, antelope, or deer and leave with custom sausage and jerky made to family recipes.
The restaurant side runs a short menu of exactly what it should: wurst teller — a sausage plate with homemade sauerkraut, German potato salad, and red cabbage — Wiener Schnitzel à la Holstein with two eggs and country potatoes, and bratwurst that Food & Wine magazine called out when they named Kuby’s one of the best butcher shops in America. The room is old-world and unhurried in a way that takes genuine conviction to maintain in Snider Plaza in 2026. Open Monday through Saturday 7 a.m. to 6 p.m., restaurant closes at 2:30 p.m. Closed Sunday. (214) 363-2231.
Herb and Mary Kay Story opened S&D in 1976 after Herb’s Navy career introduced them to Gulf Coast seafood they couldn’t find in Dallas. Mary Kay brought home recipes from duck-hunting trips in Louisiana. They opened S&D on McKinney Avenue and ran it for nearly fifty years. In 2023 the Bellomy brothers — Ryan, Sean, and Beau — acquired it, and the most telling detail about what they found when they walked in is this: head chef Santos Vasquez had been at S&D for 47 years. Sous chef Fortino Calzada the same. Night chef Luis Rios, 37 years. Server Pepe Bello and general manager Therese Washington both approaching 30. The Bellomys kept all of them. The gumbo recipe hasn’t changed. The Gulf oysters still come in fresh. And last August they opened Caché — a 35-seat New Orleans-inspired cocktail lounge hidden above the dining room, accessed through an elevator in the back — as the only real addition to a building that didn’t need much else. Open Monday through Saturday 11 a.m. to 10 p.m., closed Sunday. (214) 880-0111.
Not the Austin chain. That’s the first thing to know. Artemia and Jesus “Chuy” Adame opened their Chuy’s on West Central Avenue in Fort Worth in March 1982 — the same year the Austin chain started, a coincidence that produced thirty years of explaining which Chuy’s was which. The Austin Chuy’s eventually sold to Darden Restaurants, the company that also owns Olive Garden. The Fort Worth Chuy’s stayed exactly what it always was: a family Tex-Mex restaurant with four locations, daily lunch specials under $10, fajita lunches under $13, and breakfast served until noon. “We’re the family-owned restaurant in Fort Worth,” Jesse Adame has said. That sentence now requires no qualifier. (817) 507-5445.
The story starts in a railyard. Dionicia Pulido was cooking for her husband Pedro’s co-workers along the West Vickery Boulevard rail lines, and the food was good enough that the operation eventually turned into a restaurant, then into five restaurants, then into a Fort Worth institution that opened in 1966 and fed generations of the same families at the same tables. In 2023 the family announced they were closing all locations — a gut punch to Fort Worth — and then the Westland Restaurant Group partnered with the Pulidos to reopen. Same staff. Same recipes. The Cadillac Margarita, the enchiladas, the praline sopapillas. The regulars came back immediately. A year later, Pulido’s is celebrating the anniversary with a free praline sopapilla at every table through June 24. Open daily from 11 a.m. (Fort Worth flagship). (817) 924-8522.
Holly Pils opened Boopa’s twenty-six years ago in north Fort Worth and has been making water bagels — boiled, not steamed, never frozen, never arriving on a truck — from scratch every morning since. Water bagels are a specific and uncompromising thing: the dough is boiled before it bakes, which gives it the chewy crust and dense interior that a bagel is supposed to have and that most Texas bagels never achieve. Boopa’s achieves it, at 5:30 in the morning, six days a week, in a strip center on North Beach Street that requires you to know it’s there before you can find it. The lox, the cream cheese spreads, the deli sandwiches built on those bagels — this is one of the most specific and unreplicable things in Fort Worth and almost nobody outside the neighborhood knows about it. Open Monday through Friday 5:30 a.m. to 2 p.m., Saturday and Sunday 6 a.m. to 1 p.m. (817) 232-4771.
The reason to go to these places is not just sentiment, though there is nothing wrong with sentiment. It’s that restaurants like these are the ones that don’t come back once they’re gone. The recipe walks out the door with the family. The neighborhood loses something it can’t name until it’s already missing. Dallas and Fort Worth have lost enough of them already. These six are still here.
Two years ago, Kirk Oldham started Meals with Meaning with a simple premise: chef-prepared meals for people who are food insecure, distributed through a network of Fort Worth chefs, volunteers, and community partners who believe that food dignity matters as much as food access. On July 12, the nonprofit celebrates its second anniversary and a milestone that took some effort to reach — 50,000 meals donated throughout Tarrant County.
Hao Tran did not arrive in the food world through a culinary school or a restaurant kitchen. She came through grief and an empty house and a therapist who wasn’t helping. After her daughters left for college, she took the money she had been spending on therapy and spent it on food instead — specifically on the dishes she grew up eating, the ones her grandmother and aunt had made, the ones she had been carrying around in her memory for years without anywhere to put them.
She started making dumplings. Then she started showing up at pop-ups. Then she did another. And another. Three hundred and fifty of them over two years, schlepping equipment out of her car across North Texas, building a following one bowl at a time, all while teaching high school chemistry by day and running her own kitchen by night.
Fort Worth is getting a new front porch. Westside Village will welcome Levee Porch, a concept created by Chimy’s owner and operator, Kyle Wright and Jason Finley, intertwined with a Fort Worth outpost of Tailwaters Fly Fishing Co.
H-E-B bought the land for this store in 2015. The Mid-Cities location opens this morning at 6 a.m. at 2105 Rio Grande Blvd in Euless, in the Glade Parks development at the northwest corner of Cheek-Sparger Road and Rio Grande Boulevard. Eleven years from land purchase to ribbon cutting is a long time to wait for a grocery store. The Hurst-Euless-Bedford corridor — which has shared its initials with the chain for decades without actually having one — is finally getting the real thing.
Most people in Dallas haven’t heard of Jonny Butch yet. That’s going to change.
Butch works the pits at Goldee’s Barbecue in Fort Worth — the operation at 4645 Dick Price Road that Texas Monthly has ranked number one in the state, that the New York Times has called out, and that Food & Wine named among the best new chef programs in America in 2024. Being part of that crew is already a credential. But Butch’s path to a Fort Worth pit room is not the standard one.