Restaurant review extravaganza 31

Here are some of this week’s most noteworthy restaurant reviews from across the country:

Broward-Palm Beach

Charm City Burgers

There’s nothing wrong with a messy, multilayered burger — those overflowing constructions that aim for something higher than just meat, cheese, and bun. But bringing a change of clothes wouldn’t be a bad idea if you order a burger “cowboy style” at Charm City Burgers in Deerfield. The name isn’t just indicative of the wrangler-sized hunger it takes to finish it; managing to eat the falling-apart burger without losing half of it is akin to lasting eight seconds on top of a rodeo bull. More >>

Dallas

Si Tapas

There’s a boundary, a set of criteria, something that delineates those who like appetizers from those who quiver at the mention of tapas. Wish I could put my finger on it–though judging from the number of times I heard “Oooh, I love tapas” from women in professional income brackets, I’d guess gender and bank account play some role. Whatever–there’s a point of no return when a person decides they’ve grown tired of jalapeño poppers and instead crave a saucer of boquerones or grilled pulpo. More >>

Sara Kerens

“Grab a bunch of cheeses, meats, fruits and vegetables; slice it all up and put it on a plate–then call it tapas and watch Dallas rush to your door.”

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Denver

LoHi SteakBar

I’d been on and off planes for six hours, not always heading west. The first, a little commuter, had let us off on the tarmac. I’d spent time in a smoking lounge trying to negotiate a cigarette-and-lighter transaction with a Russian man who looked, in profile, exactly like John Hamm in Mad Men, exercising my incredibly rusty Russian against his polite but completely indecipherable English. Next to me on my second plane, a fat kid wouldn’t put his armrest down, drooled on himself and eventually toppled mountainously over onto my shoulder, only to wake with a start and head-butt me in the jaw. There are no peanuts on flights anymore. No pretzels. A lukewarm Coke and half a granola bar I’d found in the bottom of my carry-on were all I’d eaten. On the DIA tram, overcrowded like a Tokyo subway, I’d seriously considered biting the little hippie girl pressed close against me. She looked delicious. More >>

Houston

Rice Bowl II

Ecky Prabanto drizzled some broth on her bakmie ayam, an Indonesian egg-noodle and chicken dish. Here at Rice Bowl II restaurant, the noodles are served with a bowl of soup and meatballs on the side. Ecky squirted the moistened noodles with Sriracha hot sauce and the thick sweet Indonesian sauce called kecap. (This is the stuff that inspired the English imitation called ketchup.) I followed Ecky’s lead. When we were done doctoring the bakmie ayam, it tasted like spicy egg-noodle soup on a plate. More >>

Kansas City

Maxwell’s Downtown Grill

It’s been awhile since I’ve eaten in a restaurant that was so ridiculously understaffed that I was tempted to get up out of my chair and help the stressed-out — and solo — waitress clear plates and refill water glasses. It’s a natural instinct for anyone who has ever worked in a restaurant: You feel for the servers who are juggling so many responsibilities that they don’t know if they’re coming or going. More >>

Jaimie Warren

“Step inside Maxwell’s — and prepare to be ignored.”

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Los Angeles

Cube

Somebody at Cube is good at shopping. I thought I’d get that out of the way. Somebody at Cube is very good at shopping — and not just the usual stuff, the Santa Monica Farmers Market tomatoes and green beans and peaches this restaurant seems to have, but puzzone di moena cheese from Trentino, aged to an optimal stink; salty pastured-pork fennel sausages from the Bay Area’s Fatted Calf; and lobster mushrooms that actually have the texture and scarlet-rimmed countenance of poached lobster claws. Have you recently been presented with a rock of Himalayan salt, a tin of importe[get_bloginfo]url[/get_bloginfo]/files/2009/09/d elder flowers or a jar of apple butter from the kiwanis club of vienna, ohio? cube was almost certainly involved. the weekly menus, posted online each thursday, read like a cross between food porn and haiku. more >>

Miami

Mr. Yum Asian Cuisine

Bond Trisransri, whose parents started the Sushi Rock restaurants on South Beach and Las Olas Boulevard, projects precisely the image one might conjure of a son of Sushi Rock — from his slender, jean-clad frame to a shock of black hair that shoots vertically from his head like an anime character’s mane. Yet Trisransri has become more than just a prodigal purveyor of raw fish; his Mr. Yum Asian Cuisine on Calle Ocho serves Thai food too (a more palatable pairing than that offered by this site’s prior tenant, Wok ‘n’ Pizza). More >>

Minneapolis

The Kitchen / Restaurant Cru

At the Grand Garage building in downtown Stillwater, someone had hastily taped a homemade sign to the glass doors, right under the words “public restroom.” The inkjet-printed placard looked slicker than what might advertise a child’s lemonade stand, but less polished than something created by a professional. “Crab cakes at The Kitchen,” it read. “Have you tried them? DO IT!!!” With that, we yanked open the door and proceeded inside. More >>