Admit it. You love Houston’s.
I know this because everyone loves Houston’s. My NOLA expat sister was just in town for a week and the first place she had lunch was . . . Houston’s? She went with an attorney friend who, in his bachelor days was a ridiculous regular at Emeril’s. And Houston’s. My niece who could go anywhere chooses Houston’s for lunch, and, true confessions, I’m glad.
Outside my circle, our own mayor was just a few tables from ours the other day. “Ours” does not include Tom, who probably blames them for being the Mother Ship where the spinach dip pipeline connects at all points. I thank them for making spin dip ubiquitous as a menu item in restaurants.
Even when Houston’s broke up its empire because of the law requiring them as an empire to tell you how fattening what you are eating is, people still gravitate to the empire, regardless of what each restaurant’s name is. For example, the Houston’s in Beverly Hills became the Beverly Grill, changing nothing but the name. There is another in Santa Monica on Montana’s restaurant row called Hillstone. I recognized it as Houston’s immediately. Like something in the air.
I call this vibe affordable glamour. It is dark, sexy, clubby, and the food is reliably good. Never great. Always good. Servers are dressed in steakhouse attire and appropriately attentive. Houston’s may also be the originator of the open kitchen concept. The open flaming grill. All features we take for granted now.
On this visit, we were seated in a dark booth with a great view of the window where food is expedited. It was like a spotlight on the food, and it made it look like something in a magazine shoot. We couldn’t wait to get that salad we saw leave the window so many times. It was not nearly as good as it looked, but we sure wanted it. And it was good. Just not as great as they made it look.
Houston’s never bothered to entertain diners with bread. So beneath them. And they didn’t have to. Now, it is offered in an “artisan” way, of course. Focaccia and a butter-crusted cornbread served alongside a few roasted almonds and very large olives, There is also butter and a few fresh oregano sprigs. The rosemary focaccia was really salty and the cornbread that perfect savory/sweet dichotomy. $4. Affordable glamour.
Grilled artichokes are off the menu for the season, but nobody does them better. And many have tried. Many have tried to imitate the spinach dip, but they have succeeded. This one is rather ordinary now. But that was yesterday's hot trend. Today's is, for some inexplicable reason, Hawaiian steak. Or meat and pineapple. There is one here.
To their credit, though, for a chain restaurant, they seem serious about blending into the local culture. There are many restaurant adaptations at these restaurants, depending on the region. In New Orleans there are things like Shrimp Louie as a wedge salad, pecan trout, and fried shrimp. There are great fried oysters here with artichokes and a lemon aioli over creamed spinach. I have had them here before with a delicious southwestern style salsa.
On our last visit we stuck with our usual, creatures of habit that we are. I got the burger, which was better before there were so many others out there. It was still the reliably delicious Houston’s burger, but seemed diminished by the now plentiful competition. The baked potato that I ordered with the burger had that sitting-too-long taste you sometimes get in a baked potato that is, well, sitting too long. And the burger had shredded iceberg lettuce, which is great but old school. The chicken salad piled high was less thrilling as we worked our way through the pile.
I felt the usual thrill sitting in the dark clubby booth. I liked watching the food. But the food itself seemed tired. So now I’m curious. I have to go back and order new items, because I’m worried. Are we, dare I say it? Over Houston’s? This can’t be, because Houston’s, in all its iterations, is the quintessential American Restaurant. In every way. And that’s why everyone loves it.
Houston’s
1755 St.Charles New Orleans
504-524-1578
Sun-Wed 11-9
Th/Fri/Sat till 10
houstons.com
