Izzy's on the West Side of Town.

We have a lot of restaurants in Little Rock that are hot right now... and restaurants that are good... and restaurants we recommend. But then there are some places we forget about until we're gently reminded, and then we nudge our memories and ask our brains why that one didn't come up.

Izzy's is one of those.

Colorful, huge and sprawling out on The Ranch out on Highway 10, this current incarnation of the long-standing friendly restaurant stands out almost at the edge of town. It used to be on the edge of town decades ago when Bob Isbell ran it, and it got moved further out after he passed it on to his son and daughter-in-law, Robert and Heather Isbell. I keep wondering, now that it's surrounded by neighborhoods again, if Izzy's is going to move even further out Highway 10. Much further and it'll be in Lake Maumelle.

But Izzy's has always been a comfortable place -- friendly, brightly colored, safe for kids. And the tamales are one of the most underrated food experiences in town -- tasty but not too spicy, fat and served with additional bits, whether

it's cheese dip or salsa or chili. I have been known to go dine on just one with the chili... and crackers, of course. Shooting at Izzy's never produces studio-style pictures, of course, with every table having a different melange of photos and memorabilia under its surface.

Somehow, though, I'd neglected to take Grav out there, so we went on a frigid December day. I told him about the teas, the marvelous houseblended loose-leaf teas that you savor there and then take home for later. Izzy's teas are the bomb-diggety, I tell you what.

But Grav's not a big hot tea drinker like I am. He did, however, manage to spot a combination that I hadn't before. He noticed the frosted mugs for beer and requested his root beer in one. I honestly think he's smarter than me. Sometimes.

Now, deciding what to eat may be the hardest thing to do at Izzy's. It's full of choices -- not just for me, but for anyone with a crazy food sensitivity. Izzy's offers special menus for vegetarians and for those practicing a gluten-free diet. There's a lot of meatless offerings and a whole lot of different flavors. And when we asked for cheese dip, our waiter didn't even bat an eye when I asked for potato chips for

half instead of tortilla chips. Nor did he make a fuss when he came back to find Grav preferred potato chips with the dip, too.

The cheese dip at Izzy's is deep gold, almost orange, not very spicy but with nice deep and sharp Cheddar tones. It's a little runny for ruffled potato chips but that was all right. It's rather good.

The Nutty Bird comes with chips, but you can also have sweet
potato fries instead.

We debated over different choices while we nibbled chips. Grav asked about the Nutty Bird, which is turkey and cream cheese with sunflower seeds. I've had it before. It's pretty good, especially if you're wanting a cool sandwich in the summer. I told him about the Salmon Nicoise, which is a poached salmon fillet with salad. We discussed the tamales, and he pretty much stuck with it.

Now, tamales. Izzy's has two different sorts of tamales, beef and a vegetable tamale that's full of black beans and a smattering of finely chopped vegetables. Those tamales are served in all sorts of combinations. You can get One Big Tamale as an appetizer -- either the beef or the veggie -- with chili for the beef and cheese dip for the veggie. Or you can swap around -- salsa and guacamole are also

acceptable substitutes. You can also get a platter of two and either mix-and-match or get two of the same. This is what Grav did this time around, choosing chili-topped beef tamales served with more cheese dip. I think he was surprised just how filling they were.

Me? This time I decided to go for something I've wanted to try for a long time but always demurred. I went for the Wild West Chicken Pizza. Yes, I knew I'd be taking it home.

That's all right. This is a thin crusted fork-ready pizza that comes with a salsa base, with chunks of grilled chicken, red bell pepper and purple onion, black beans and bits of cilantro and mozzarella and provolone cheese, and jalapenos. There's not a lot of cheese on this pizza, but the crust edges are crispy and strong enough to be dumped in the cheese dip. The rest of the pizza, though, becomes soft with the salsa, and it's really meant to be eaten with a fork. It comes with sour cream, which is a good balance to the jalapenos -- but I found myself drizzling more cheese dip over the whole thing. Did I mention I really like the cheese dip?

One of these days I'll finally get the cheeseburger at Izzy's. I never get there. There are way too many dang fine menu choices and when I get to the line about burgers I sorta glaze over. I shouldn't, though -- they come highly recommended. And at some point I have a feeling Grav will be back for the Super BLT, which includes a slathering of -- you guessed it -- cheese dip.

The kids menu for Izzy's isn't quite the predictable usual items you get with a kids menu. Rather than the standard chicken nuggets and corn dogs I see everywhere, Izzy's offers bowls of pasta -- noodles with Alfredo, marinara, meat sauce or butter ("naked"), a grilled cheese sandwich or a cheese quesadilla. But if you have an adventuresome child like mine, consider getting them the One Big Tamale.

We didn't get desserts this time, but Izzy's does make a fine Key Lime Pie. I also forget that milkshakes are offered, and I need to try those sometime. Then there's the All-American, two scoops of vanilla ice cream on a brownie, drizzled with hot fudge and whipped cream. It's a two person dessert, and if you don't think so then more power to you, *I* can't eat it all by myself on a good day. It is righteously decadent.

That's the Salmon Nicoise I was talking about.

As I mentioned, you can find Izzy's at The Ranch... which, if you're not from Little Rock, that's not going to do you any good. It's off Highway 10 west of I-430 several miles, and it's behind Osaka (which is pretty fine Japanese-style eating). It's open 11 a.m. Monday-Thursday, 11 a.m. - 9 p.m. on Friday and Saturday and is closed on Sunday. You can also buy tea leaves there to take home.

Izzy's Restaurant
5601 Ranch Drive
Little Rock, AR 72223
(501) 868-4311
izzyslittlerock.com

5 Unique Arkansas Foods.

What sort of food comes from Arkansas?  Our state is blessed with a rich heritage of game such as deer, boar and elk as well as a plethora of game fowl and a great measure of fish.  But what have we created as foods we can share with others, true home-grown creations?

Here are five dishes that come from Arkansas.

1.  Chocolate gravy.  This breakfast addition came to us in the early part of the 20th century, with the spread of the use of cocoa powder.  The methods to make it vary, but it includes cocoa, sugar, butter and flour, is either made from a roux or a milk base, and is always served over biscuits. Delish named it the food to represent Arkansas.  Here's a recipe. Check out how the folks at the Wagon Wheel in Greenbrier make it.

2.  Possum pie.  Variations of this dish are made elsewhere, and it has different names in different parts of the state -- Four Layer Delight, Chocolate Torte, Robert Redford -- but the idea is the same: a cooler pie with cream cheese and a flour-and-pecan crust on the bottom, whipped cream and pecans on the top and a layer of chocolate custard in-between.  Its name comes from the fact the pie is "playin' possum," which means you don't know what's in that pie until you cut into it.  Check out Debbie Arnold's recipe and video.

3.  Cheese dip.  Created by Arkansas native Blackie Donnelly, first served up at Mexico Chiquito in the 1940s and celebrated in the film In Queso Fever, this concoction of cheeses and spices has definitively been linked to The Natural State.  Restaurants all over will tell you theirs is the best.  Want to find a place to dip your chip? Here's a rundown of the most famous of Arkansas cheese dips.

4.  Fried pickles.  Created at the Duchess Drive In in Atkins by Bernell Austin, these sour wonders have seen their way around the world.  Other states may claim them, but they are an Arkansas original.  Check out the history behind the dish and a couple of recipes here, and see how Gus's Fried Chicken makes their own version.

5.  Arkansas Delta Tamales.  Arkansas Delta tamales were originally introduced by the St. Columbia family.  Grandfather Peter came to the United States in the last decade of the 1890s and ended up in Helena, where his odd jobs took him out into cotton plantations worked by Mexican immigrants.  He gave them pasta recipes, they taught him how to make tamales, and that recipe has been refined through the generations and through the soul food restaurant the St. Columbias financed.  Learn more about the Arkansas Delta Tamale here.

Want to learn more about Arkansas foods?  Check out my books Classic Eateries of the Ozarks and Arkansas River Valley and Classic Eateries of the Arkansas Delta -- and learn more about possum pie in Arkansas Pie: A Delicious Slice of the Natural State.

The Creation and Creator of the Arkansas Delta Tamale.

This is the story of an immigrant who came to America and settled in Helena; of his son, who funded and cultivated a tamale; and of his grandson, who still sells the handmade dish today. Let me tell you about Pasquale's Tamales.

Miss Rhoda has pie, too.

You know, sometimes the best things come in small packages. The best pies don’t always come in an eight or nine inch pie shell. And you’re just as likely to find a good pie at a hole in the wall restaurant as at a five-star eatery.

At Rhoda’s Famous Hot Tamales in Lake Village, those pies come in tart shells. But they pack just as much of a punch as a slice of a big pie.
Now, you can order a big full-size pie from Miss Rhoda, if you like. But if you’re just dropping in for a hot plate lunch or a coffee can full of tamales, the little pies will do you just fine.
That’s just what we did on our way down to New Orleans last week. My traveling companion and I left Little Rock extra early to pick up a few assignments here and there.

We arrived at Rhoda’s right around lunchtime and the joint was packed. The parking lot was packed. There were people sitting outside to eat and a line inside the door. That’s how good those tamales are.

We’d already eaten once that day (and you’ll find out more about that meal soon) but had saved just enough room for the pie we were there to check out. Seeing the little pies on the counter was a relief; no oversized slices here. Best of all, each pie was a buck.

I almost got the one little half-and-half pie of the bunch, a pecan-and-sweet-potato beauty. But what sort of service would that have been to you? I have to try them all out and make sure I recommend the best one of the lot.

We tried three of the pies -- the chocolate meringue, the pecan and the sweet potato. The chocolate meringue was a nice filling chocolate custard with a tacky meringue top, sticky and gooey in all the right ways but not fluffy like most meringues. It was tasty, but still not the star of the show. That was so hard to determine. The sweet potato pie has its own renown, and I know why. It’s a firm, not-too-sweet made-from-the-real-deal pie with just a bit of fibrous potato left in the mix. There’s no doubt you’re eating a sweet potato pie when you bite into it.

The crust is supple and buttery. The consistency is firm. The sweetness is measurable. It’s a good filling little pie.

But the real star is the pecan pie -- a rich, deep color custard with a hint of butter and bourbon overtones. It’s meaty and a little cloying, but for its size it’s perfect, bigger than the pie shell goodness.

There’s a depth to each bite, that combination of good Karo-nut syrup and fresh shelled pecans. It’s the not-to-be-missed star of the bunch.

Now all this time we’d been in the restaurant, my photographer had been shooting around, and Miss Rhoda wanted to know why.

We told her it’s what we do, taking photos of food and sharing them with people. She let us shoot the unsteamed tamales all ready to go. She let us shoot around the inside the restaurant. She even posed for us in her kitchen. She’s one hell of a dame, and we owe her some photographs.



Of course we ordered tamales -- we left with a sack of a dozen to take on the road with us. The intention had been to have a sit-down closer on the road to New Orleans. However, a barge had struck the I-20 bridge at Vicksburg, and we were left sitting in a parking lot in Mound, LA waiting to cross.


It was a shade cool, it was late afternoon and the only food in site was a pub on the north side of the interstate and a convenience store on the south. So we dug into the bag, pulled out the paper-wrapped package, tucked it open and pried open the aluminum foil. There we found those sweaty corn-husk-wrapped beauties, steamy and soft, softer than even I’ve ever had them in the store. Lacking the appropriate plastic ware, we took turns pulling out husks and sliding messy fingers along them, pushing out the soft tamales and eating them like, well, like Push-Up orange sherbet pops. I am not afraid to say I sucked the shucks. A roll of paper towels kept us from totally desecrating the interior of the vehicle.


I tell you, I’ve had tamales many places, I’ve had Miss Rhoda’s tamales more than a time or two -- but they never tasted better.

You’ll find Rhoda’s Famous Hot Tamales at 714 St. Mary’s Street in Lake Village, a couple blocks off U.S. 65. I’ve talked about those tamales before and chances are I will again. Now you know you need to try those pies, too. (870) 265-3108.

Go tell Ms. Rhoda; she'll hook you up with tamales.

After our breakfast in Dumas, a trip down Highway 1 through Watson, a misguided attempt to find Old Napoleon and a stop at Rohwer Relocation Camp we ended up on the doorstep of Rhoda Adams, as in the particularly local establishment in Lake Village known as Rhoda’s Famous Hot Tamales. She and her husband James run this place on St. Mary’s Street, and you can smell it a block away, the smell of spices and fried things luring you off Highway 65 if you let it. If you don’t roll down your windows and never leave the highway, you may never find it.