There it is, right in the name: Sullivan’s STEAKHOUSE, that longtime bastion of club-like masculine gorging, all about low lights, dark wood and stiff drinks. All that is still there, of course. And if the Texans hadn’t been on the field last night, half of them would probably have been there too. But what I discovered from dishes like this hot-and-sweet Shanghai fried calamari is that it’s entirely possible to have a wonderful meal at this particular Texas-based steakhouse without letting lips wander anywhere near a steak.

Sullivan’s, of course, is part of the Del Frisco’s Restaurant Group, operators of the high-end Del Frisco’s Double Eagle Steakhouse along with the much newer (AND much younger) Del Frisco’s Grille that I loved from the first time I went to one in Dallas before tracking down the location in New York City. What these adventures have taught the company is that non-meat options sell. Dishes like the Cajun-spiced seared tuna draw in not only vegans, vegetarians and pescatarians (which I guess last night was all about) but larger parties with one holdout whining to go anywhere else.

Though the seared tuna appetizer (or entree) might be the most obvious place to “go Asian” after so many sushi experiences, another of the best must be the Hong Kong-style sea bass. The delicate, flaky white fish is served lightly Asianized atop a generous serving of crisp-tender bok choy with splashes of soy-garlic-ginger sauce splashed around the plate. More than most, the sea bass captures Asian cuisine’s near-fetish for lightness, balance and flavor poetry.

If you are dreaming of a bit of “chew” to make up for all the ribeye you’re not having, you can do lots worse than ordering Sullivan’s “seasonal” lobster tail trio. Personally, I’m hoping it stays “in season” at least for the rest of my life. It’s one way to get your lobster fix without cracking open a whole bunch of shells, and the selection of broiled, buttery scampi-style and tempura-fried really couldn’t be better. The Sonoma-Cutrer chardonnay I ordered couldn’t have been better either.

These days, a big part of the steakhouse experience - and a big part of steakhouse profits other than alcohol - are the a la carte sides. As a fairly traditional steakhouse, Sullivan’s serves mostly large “to share” mounds of starches and cheese. Our server was even pushing the lobster mac and cheese, though it sounded a bit too much like “Would you like some lobster with your lobster?” Opting for sides like the green beans in cashew butter and the grilled asparagus is one great way not to fill up around the main event.

For many these days, dessert IS the main event - and Sullivan’s gets that. Just about every greatest hit you can think of is on the menu, which shows up with listings of dessert wines, after-dinner drinks, high-end-top-shelf-small-batch this and that, and “dessert cocktails.” I opted for a glass of Cherry Pie pinot noir and this warm “blondie” topped with butter pecan ice cream. Truth be told, this dessert is very sweet - sweeter than I wish, in fact. But as I sat thinking back over Pescatarian Night at Sullivan’s Steakhouse while sipping my pinot noir, I couldn’t think of anyplace that ever went broke serving Americans desserts that were too big or too sweet.

Corner Table, in the River Oaks space long associated with The Brownstone, opened in Houston a year ago with a lot of different talking points. First, it was several entities or atmospheres in one: a restaurant with indoor and outdoor seating, a live music venue, an upscale lounge, and hell, probably a few other things we’re forgetting since they happen past our bedtime. In terms of cuisine, the menu talked a lot about gluten-free and even paleo. Still, as the above scallops smoked in a Cuban cigar box make clear, it didn’t take chef Bruce Molzan long to make sure Corner Table was all about interesting and delicious food.

We stopped by the place yesterday to sample a few items, some old and some new, some following ownership’s health-conscious party line and some that seemed sheer indulgence. Perhaps best of all, as with these pork and duck confit spring rolls with sour cherry sriracha sauce and kimchi, some simply blurred or even erased the line between these two, often-warring camps. Those, as usual, are the dishes we like best.

One of the menu’s best surprises just might be the organic hummus with a mound of char-kissed housemade basil flatbread for dipping, plus plenty of Sicilian green olives and sundried tomatoes lying about the plate. So many people make so many kinds of hummus these days that it’s hard to recall that first excitement of discovery. Taste this hummus and you will remember. Be sure to take home the leftover flatbread to eat with, well, just about anything.

In keeping with the more rigorous aspects of Corner Table’s mission, the pastry chef here is actually paleo. And that means she was the perfect person to cross over from the restaurant’s voluminous desserts to create a spin on pad thai that is both vegan and raw. It’s a fascinating dish, even down to the cashews replacing the peanuts. In lieu of noodles, there’s a pile of super-thinly sliced vegetables. No shortage of bright colors on this plate, and definitely no shortage of bright crunch.

From the paleo portion of the menu - actually, such dishes are wisely presented as part of the “normal” list now, not so dramatically set apart - there are two dishes that look a lot alike but taste entirely different. My favorite is this lamb gyro. But honestly, I can’t say I’d have any trouble making a meal out of Chef Bruce’s paleo fish tacos either.

One of the craziest things about Corner Table, going back to the same pastry chef, is its insistence on showcasing upwards of thirty desserts every single meal every single day. What’s a fair average for most restaurants? Maybe eight? Here, your server turns up with a packed platter of colorful things to choose from. We chose…

Chef Bruce found some nifty peaches at a farmers market and turned them into one of the best cobblers ever. Many (but hardly all) of the desserts are re- and/or reverse-engineered to avoid some of the common dairy components, letting them go out into the world as vegan, gluen-free or paleo. Plus, even if you’re too full for dessert (can’t say that I ever am), at Corner Table there’s always a crispy-crumbly macaroon and a spoon dipped in chocolate to “wash down” your espresso!

I have two engagements in Houston that weekend - one being Earth Day, which I’m totally for! - otherwise my car would be pointed due west to the dramatically beautiful Big Bend region. The second annual Viva Big Bend Food Festival attracts hundreds, and this year maybe thousands, to an appropriately quirky collection of tours, tastings and all-round fun in the towns of Marfa, Alpine, Marathon and Fort Davis. An offshoot of a popular music event of the same name, The Food Festival takes place April 10-12.

“The Viva Big Bend Music Festival year has been a huge success – far beyond my expectations – and I’m very proud that the event had such a significant positive impact on area businesses,” says event organizer Stewart Ramser says, publisher oif Texas Music magazine. “I’m equally excited about the food festival, which combines three great things: food, music and far West Texas.” As pictured above, one of the weekend’s highlights is a tour and tasting at Marfa Maid, a place that raises goats to make milk to make cheese.

The three-day event kicks off on Thursday, with an opening night party at Railroad Blues in Alpine, as well as the Tito’s Cocktail Tour. On Friday and Saturday, attendees can choose from a wide range of activities, including: an authentic cowboy breakfast at the Fort Davis National Historic Site, “Dining Along Historic Highways” presentation and parties at the Big Bend Brewery and Plaine/Cow
Dog. A whiskey tasting, pre-dinner happy hours, cooking classes and tours will also be featured. In addition to Marfa Maid, there will be tours of Big Bend Coffee Roasters.

Nationally renowned Houston chef Monica Pope (James Beard Award nominee, a competitor on Top Chef Masters on Bravo in 2010 and winner of Best Chef at the 2009 Houston Culinary Awards) will be at hosting a class and dinner on April 11 at the Gage Hotel. Many of the activities are free and open to the public. Former Alpine resident Aura Mae is coming in from the Pacific Northwest for a special dinner at the Century Bar & Grill in Alpine on Saturday.

Viva Big Bend Food Festival is sponsored by Budweiser, Shock Top, Big Bend Brewing, Holland Hotel, The Maverick Inn, Holiday Inn Express, Hampton Inn, The Gage Hotel, City of Alpine, City of Marfa, Fort Davis Chamber of Commerce and Big Bend Telephone. The media sponsors are Marfa Public Radio and Texas Music magazine. The website for the event, www.VivaBigBend.com, features additional information. Viva Big Bend’s Facebook page and Twitter account are also a source for updates. If you stay at the rustic-elegant Gage Hotel in Marathon, you can ask for my old room if you want. As you can guess from the photo above, I recommend it highly!

American Comfort Food. Besides not knowing what that exactly is, I’ve always been mildly mystified by the number of disparate dishes that have turned up at my table beneath that generic-sounding banner. And then, there’s the tendency of chefs these days to deconstruct, reconstruct or “elevate” any food that sits still long enough, and my confusion is only compounded. Happily, there’s little or no confusion at the heart of Cook & Collins, which opens tomorrow in the Midtown section of Houston, as the fried chicken pictured above with mashed potatoes, gravy and biscuit proves beyond a reasonable doubt.

To what I’m sure will be the delight of many (not to mentiion those simply happy to have something to eat other than beer and tequila in the neighborhood), chef-partner Jared Estes and exec chef Josh Shobe are not afraid to make food that tastes like one or more wonderful things we remember. In fact, many dishes at Cook & Collins send your memory on a quest to figure out what wonderful taste this reminds you of. For instance, the starter called Angry Birds, made with crispy chicken thighs, sweet heat, pineapple, almonds and cilantro, is a tribute band devoted to every order of “boneless wings” you ever downed in some less food-savvy sports bar.

Other great ways to start a mea here, or to keep one going if yours is a grazing sort of crowd, include the Red Eye Fries and the Oysters Rockefeller Fondue. Both meet the American Comfort Food standard - not being in any way “light,” something that can be said of virtually nothing on the Cook & Collins menu - and both are impressive. The first is a spin on Texas chili fries, except with the chili made with bison instead of beef, a proudly self-proclaimed “cage-free egg” on top and a generous splash of Mexico’s Valentina hot sauce. The second dish turns a New Orleans classic upside down, making for creamy spinach dip with fried oysters on top. If you ask me, battering and frying improves any oyster. Or maybe anything.

Since some of the same people opening Cook & Collins were and/or are involved in launching Crisp in the Heights, it’s no big shocker that the pizzas here are terrific - five different spins on “flatbreads” that include the eye-opening version of Hawaiian called Pig Popper Sweet Heat. Still, nothing in the flatbread category can keep me away from the pork porterhouse (with bourbon baked apples, a Johnnycake-style flapjack and “cowboy caviar,” a.k.a. black-eyed peas), or the bison meatloaf. Yes, they call it buffalo here, thus keeping the old error alive; but they make up for that with garlic mashed potatoes, creamy spinach and “melted” onion broth.

Like anyone in for a penny and therefore in for a pound, the kitchen at Cook & Collins shows no reluctance to add desserts directly to our waistlines. In addition to a darkly amazing Cookie Dough Brownie with Nutella fudge and “burnt” mashmallow, there’s the ultra-saltisfying Butterscotch Pudding Jar sided by oatmeal raisin cookies, and the even-more-so Caramel Apple Bread Pudding. The latter features raisins soaked in rum, as all raisins should be, and something called “maple caramel.” The biggest epiphany, however, is this bread pudding’s crispy-crunchy topping. It’s as though somebody sat up nights trying to figure out a way to make bread pudding even better. I’m starting to feel more American, and indeed more comforted, already.

Chef Steven McHugh had me at “cabrito sliders.” Then again, he might have had me at “cabrito tacos,” had they been on the menu. Or maybe simply “cabrito,” especially considering that the goat he uses comes from the Farmers Market that blossoms each weekend just steps away from his kitchen in the ever-expanding Pearl Brewery development. Most of all, the sliders are distinct and welcome reminders there’s a lot more to McHugh’s week-old San Antonio restaurant than the cured meats known in France as charcuterie and in Italy as salumi. No, not salami. Though salami is a kind of salumi. But that, as the Italians are quick to remind us, is un altra storia.

The restaurant’s name, Cured, is a joyous pun: alluding to one of the main menu components - as in this sampler of meats like rilletes, pate, verrine, even “pork butter” - as well as to something far more personal, McHugh’s life-changing victory over lymphoma. That event made the self-described “Wisconsin farm boy” open to the idea of seeking his future away from New Orleans (where he’d worked for mentors like Ralph Brennan and John Besh) in the second largest city in Texas. To McHugh and his New Orleans-born wife Sylvia, San Antonio has more than just lots of people. It, like New Orleans, has terroir.

Like all talented and thoughtful chefs, McHugh brings to his food at Cured a lot of what he learned, most recently launching Luke for Besh on the San Antonio Riverwalk. He definitely understands the big, bold flavors that both South Louisiana and South Texas invariably demand. This dish, for instance, is a total blast from his New Orleans past: boudin noir (yes, “black” blood sausage), served with an adept spin on pain perdu, which in French means “lost bread” but is French toast to you and me.

The ever-popular Bandera quail, served all over Texas but a local food in San Antonio, turns up once removed from its usual bird shape, transformed by classic technique into a kind of French roulade that resembles loosely bound sausage. The meat is delicate and delicious after pan-searing, and given even more local character by mole grits to go with those bright orange tubes of “carrot marrow.”

It’s worth noting, amid all the talk of foods being “local” at Cured, that foods tend to be seasonal as well. In fact, unless you have a lot of greenhouses handy, all local foods tend to be seasonal. Among the winter vegetables on the menu, there’s this eye-popping pumpkin and pepper salad that’s already emerging as a major hit. Accents for taste and texture include smoked pecans, preserved celery and local goat cheese.

When dessert time tolls around, McHugh sidesteps the usual array of six or seven items for three he believes Cured can do very well. And based on this evidence, I think the guy’s onto something. Above is a tribute to the citrus of the Rio Grande Valley, all done up as a custardized fruit tart with a side of Meyer lemon sorbet and kumquat tuile. And below is one of Cured’s best sellers so far, called simply Winter: a carrot and cardamom cheesecake (in a glass jar!) with quince caramel and apple creme brulee. Winter has never looked so bright, colorful or delicious.

In all these years of going weird places to taste weird things, I’ve never gone to Del Frisco’s Double Eagle Steak House to taste a bunch of side dishes that I (and, of course, you) can take home for the holidays. Each of five different side, like this creamy Spinach Supreme, is available portioned for 1-2 people, 3-6 people and 7-8 people, depending on the size of your Thanksgiving or Christmas. And as making sides from scratch can be quite time-consuming, I imagine lots of Del Frisco’s fans will take them up on the offer at any Double Eagle in Texas.

I hardly think this is the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen, but having tasted plenty of maque choux growing up in Louisiana (where Attakapas Indians conspired with Cajuns on the recipe), Del Frisco’s version is close to the best I’ve ever put in my mouth. Just think creamed corn that’s died and gone to heaven, spirited away by cream, butter and a bit of spice. I’ve made maque choux for Thanksgiving before, and I might consider letting them make it from this point forward.

I’m not always a fan of downhome classics sent uptown (especially in terms of price) by the senseless addition of lobster or truffle or foie gras. I must admit, though, sampling my way through Del Frisco’s lobster mac and cheese, I didn’t have my usual negative reaction. The lush cheese sauce actually makes sense wrapped around chucks of sweet lobster, kind like what might happen if Thermidor found its way into a macaroni factory.

Who doesn’t love mashed potatoes? No, I don’t know anybody either. So mashed potatoes get a few extra ingredients and show up on the Del Frsco’s holiday takeout menu as Chateau potatoes. It’s all about meeting all the usual taste expectations for mashed potatoes and then showing us that we’ve secretly always wanted more.

If you prefer your potatoes in identifiable chunks rather than mashed, and if you prefer lots of cheese and then more of it, boy does Del Frsco’s have potatoes au gratin for you. I really like the idea of ordering these terrific sides, which will then be ready to slap in the oven for quick and easy heating. You might even consider ordering at least a smallish portion of all of them and encouraging your friends and loved ones some of each. That’s what I did at the original Del Frisco’s Double Eagle in North Dallas the other night, and I don’t believe for one moment it’s my last time.