More than Mexican at Faby's in Conway.

Have I kept any good-eating secrets around Arkansas to myself? Well, yes, I guess I’m guilty of that. Mea culpa. I haven’t shared Faby’s Restaurant with you.

There are actually two Faby’s, one on Dave Ward Drive and the other on Front Street in Conway. Been to both. The eclectic mix of Mexican and Continental fare seemed a bit of a stretch before I went, but I can happily tell you it’s a good combination.

Pie Eyed at Old Chicago Pizza in Conway.

Yeah, it's a chain operation.  There are places all over the U.S.   But Old Chicago Pizza isn't just another Pizza Hut or Pizza Pro or Papa John's.  There's more to this pie than meets the eye.

Part of that is that it's not all about the pie.  It's also about pasta and beer.   Lots of beer.  To the tune of 110 different varieties available.  That, my friends, is a lot of beer.

The restaurant does "beer flights," where the drinker gets four 4 ounce glasses of different beer on a paddle to sample. The one you see pictured here is the Old World Flight (minus a few sips). For someone searching out their next favorite brew, I suppose it's a pretty good idea.

We've tried the Signature Trio ($9.49) off the appetizer menu. And as far as appetizers go, they're pretty neat. I can easily see someone making a meal off the cheesy garlic bread, the pepperoni rolls and those Italian nachos -- which, by the way, if you aren't able to eat pepperoni or Italian sausage, they'll make with beef instead. Very nice of them. But you want to know about the pie. Fair enough.

Old Chicago does an especially thick-crusted pie, in two varieties -- stuffed, like the Chicago Seven stuffie shown above ($16.99) with its cheese and Italian sausage, pepperoni and vegetables on the inside.

There's also the traditional non-stuffed pies, like the Thai Pie ($15.59 medium, $18.99 large) with its blessings of roasted chicken, onions, teriyaki and Mozzarella and Cheddar and Thai red chili pizza sauce. If you can call that traditional. The dough is very much on the yeasty side, thick and chewy, enough to keep you filled for a long time. Oh, they do offer thin crust, but it's not pushed like the "Chicago" style.

Calzones are made with that same thick dough, hearty and just about all you need for a lunch.

The restaurant also does steaks, chicken, fish and chips, sandwiches and pasta, like the pictured Grilled Chicken and Spinach Ravioli ($11.19) -- which isn't ravioli stuffed with chicken and spinach but the two main ingredients sauteed together and poured in a sauce over cheese ravioli.

Without the chicken, the dish is identical save the chicken on top.

And then there's dessert.

The place offers several sorts of desserts, including a cheesecake they claim takes two days to make and the Famous Big Cookie, served up in a hot pizza pan. There's something to be said for the simple elegance of the Little Big Cookie ($2.99, serves 2), though -- if for nothing more than it's a hot chocolate chip cookie that you're not going to take home in a box. In hindsight, I can't remember why in the world we would have ordered it without the "a la mode," considering that a cookie this big is begging for dairy.

My experiences with Old Chicago Pasta and Pizza is from the Conway location; a new location's just open in North Little Rock on Warden Road. Pretty decent for a chain. You'll find the Conway location at 1010 Main Street (next to the defunct Doe's Eat Place). It opens at 11am each day and keeps on going to midnight or later. (501) 329-6262. The North Little Rock location is at 4305 Warden Road... (501) 812-6262. And there's a website with all sorts of details.

Night in White Linen.

It is rare to be able to sit with one’s significant other, sharing an experience of a meal over several hours, enjoying one’s company while also enjoying the finest cuisine in a romantic atmosphere. Such is an experience that tends to escape most of us. We view our dining in different ways, sure, but more and more we view the dining experience as one of haste and rush rather than relaxation and enjoyment. Those feasters of old and their Renaissance tables laden with food and entertainment may (for the modern world) be past, but the ideas of Victorian splendor are still very much alive at the 1886 Crystal Dining Room at the 1886 Crescent Hotel in Eureka Springs, Arkansas.

I could write for days about the hotel that houses the restaurant -- on its historic value, on its world-class spa, on the haunting spectres seen by guests, on its lush hilltop grounds. To do so would be to mute out the grand experience I enjoyed with my husband on a blustery March evening. Such reminiscing will have to wait until later.

The wind was spitting a little mist into the air when we arrived. Clouds threatened the darkening sky. We ducked into the red-clad lobby and gathered our bearings before entering the richly paneled Crystal Dining Room on the north side of the hotel.

The room swept out before us, a great expanse of black and white linen-topped tables on a lovingly polished wood floor. Each tabletop was decked with a collection of fine crystal wine glasses, a sweetener service set, decanters of olive oil and vinegar, salt and pepper, French sea salt and two volcanic salts. On this Wednesday evening, the room was also bereft of diners.

Our kind host, Aaron Bazon, came out to greet us. He directed us to a table in the corner of the room, next to a window overlooking the back patio of the building. He shared with us details about the restaurant, welcoming us on our first visit. The lightning played outside the window as soft jazz echoed through the room. We ordered beverages, red wine for my husband, iced tea for me.

Aaron left us alone with our menus, and we spent quite some time shuffling through the selections. The price structure at the Crystal Dining Room is different from your average restaurant. Only the entrées come with prices. That’s because each meal at the Crystal Dining Room is meant to be an experience. It’s a coursed dinner featuring bread, a soup and salad, an appetizer, the entrée and dessert. We labored over the selection of each item for some time.

After we ordered, Aaron shared with us tales of the week. Earlier on, the room had been filled with attendees of the Governor’s Conference on Tourism, packed wall-to-wall with visitors enjoying different set-up stations of goodness, from salads and soups to cook-to-order entrées. I could imagine how the room must have looked, packed to the gills with people.

Our bread course arrived. Bread here is not looked at as an afterthought; it’s an integral start to the dinner. The rustic French-style bread rounds were served up on the corners of a large square plate before us, on the edge of a small sea of mingled balsamic vinegar and olive oil, with a dollop of fresh basil pesto and a crown of fresh butter in the center. Our drinks were refreshed. As we each spread a little pesto on our slices, my husband and I shared a giggle, the sort that you share when you’ve been together for ages and find you’ve discovered something special together. The pesto with its delicate basil flavor balanced well against the slightly sour and springy bread. The balsamic vinegar provided a more tangy note to the simple dish.

Aaron came back out to talk with us. He asked where else we’d dined in the area, and offered a few recommendations. We weren’t expecting that at all. He shared with us that the Crystal Dining Room isn’t competing with most other restaurants. It’s a unique experience that’s usually savored and kept for special occasions such as weddings, anniversaries and the like. The length of service and the prices put it in a different category and class of eatery. We agreed that so far, our experience had been unparalleled in town.

Out came the next course, soup and salad. My husband had chosen the soup of the day, Vegetable Beef, and the Couscous Salad with Shrimp. The meaty broth of the soup was very rich, full of chunks of vegetables and tomato. The salad, tomatoes and cucumbers and green bell peppers and olives and onions tossed with Couscous and topped with delicate baby shrimp, had a unique mouthfeel and texture. The little pink shrimp, cooked perfectly, perched on the salad and shimmered with a bit of the Oregano Garlic Vinaigrette specially prepared for the dish. He told me he could have just eaten the salad and soup and been happy with the meal.

I’d chosen the house soup, the French Onion Gratin, and was pleased not only with the dark and savory beef and onion broth but also with the softly dissolving crouton beneath the not-overwhelming crown of Gruyere. The Bundled Grilled Hearts of Romaine and Radiccio I had chosen as my salad came out warm from their trip over the grill, topped with roasted walnuts and a bit of Parmesan cheese. The sweetness of balsamic vinaigrette met each bite casually -- apparently applied before the grilling. I found myself agreeing with my husband that yes, I could indeed make a meal on that course.

Aaron once again joined us and regaled us with stories about dining in the room. He told us about how the wait staff had been trained to provide coordinated service, something that’s become a bit of a lost art around these parts. For a service of eight diners, four waiters can come and bring out the dishes to the diners all at once, in a carefully orchestrated ballet of action, clearing and resetting and presenting each course. That’s something I’d like to see. It may be common in I believe the finest restaurants in the largest cities, but I don’t believe I’ve seen it in my adult life here in Arkansas.


The next course arrived. My husband had chosen the Crab Lorenzo, which I had secretly coveted. This dish was the very first entrée ever served here in the Crystal Dining Room, back when it opened in 1886. Of course, it’s a smaller portion, being an appetizer. It reminded me of a deconstructed crab cake, with layers of shredded crabmeat, slivers of onion and mushroom, crusty bits and oh my the cheese. He was kind enough to share the dish, and I was thankful. This was certainly the sort of dish that had been bringing people back to the restaurant for more than 120 years.


My own choice of appetizer, the Crescent Crab Cake Parcel, was a crab cake within a puff pastry envelope, served up with a remoulade style sauce presented in a hollowed out lemon. The flaky layers outside concealed a perfect round of crab cake within, meaty and without much filler, savory bliss perfectly accompanied by the sauce. Its presentation was a thing of beauty; pulling open the crust was like pulling apart the petals of a flower. Almost too pretty to eat.



We were appreciative of the time in-between courses. It had allowed us to both enjoy our dinner so far and had given us a chance to query Aaron on a variety of subjects. After our appetizer course he showed us the restaurant’s vast wine cellar and its special nitrogen gas wine preservation system, which allowed for several glasses of wine from the same bottle over time to still be as fresh as the first. The fine collection of ports and sherries and high-sugar wines were quite tempting. One bottle of port was dated 1944.

And then back to our table, and we were introduced to our main courses. My husband had chosen the Delmonico-Delmonico, a steak apparently so good it was named twice. The massive 16 ounce prime rib can come the traditional way, seared, blackened or served with a Steak Diane-style creamy brandy sauce -- the latter of which he had chosen. Roasted new potatoes and roasted asparagus accompanied the dish, along with a large cheese cracker -- Parmesan cheese baked into a large rectangle that adorned the steak. The pliant steak was buttery and delicious.

I had chosen the 10 Spice Encrusted Beef Tenderloin Filet, first pan-seared with the spices and then oven baked to doneness. Accompanied by the same sides, the round of steak was fork tender and spiced with far more than the pepper-melange so many restaurants have come to rely on. I couldn’t quite determine all ten spices, but flavors of cardamom and onion were just as prevalent to me as salt and pepper. It was a surprisingly exotic steak.

And one, sadly, to which I could not do justice. My husband and I stared at each other across the table, sheepishly admitting the expanse of the three hour meal had defeated us. Outside, the lightning was gone and the clouds were parting, a few stars managing to make it through the dark above.

Ah, but dessert! How were we going to manage that? Aaron told us never fear, it was quite normal for the dessert to go home with the diners, considering the amount of food presented over the course of the meal. Cherries Jubilee was out, obviously, but we chose the brownie over the cheesecake for our final course, and one large shareable brownie was packed up for us, along with the remains of our steaks.

We did share a final glass of a sweet dessert wine as Aaron wrote down a few wine selections for us to choose to take home with us from our trip. It was a delightful nightcap to the evening. Later that night we’d share that brownie under the stars, still somewhat drowsy from a long and enjoyable dinner.

The Crystal Dining Room isn’t for the sort of person who wants to eat and go. Chances are your dinner there will last hours. Bring along a special dining companion or two or three, be prepared to enjoy conversation and wine, and bring a large appetite.

You’ll find the 1886 Crystal Dining Room in the 1886 Crescent Hotel in Eureka Springs. Reservations are suggested. Attire is on the formal side, and romance? Well, you’ll have to provide a suitable companion yourself. Check out the website for the hotel for more information or call (800) 342-9766.

Unusual Arkansas: Eureka Springs' Basin Park Hotel and its Claim to Fame.

Eureka Springs is full of oddities.  It has haunted properties, strange shops, eclectic restaurants and extraordinary geography.  One oddity worth a visit is the Basin Park Hotel.  Find out what sets this strange but beautiful hotel apart from all the others.

A Patty Melt and a Fried Pie at the Hurley House in Hazen.

I posted this picture a few days ago on Twitpic and asked people to identify it. I got a lot of answers, but no one even came close to figuring out that this patty melt is from the Hurley House Café in Hazen.

Unless you’ve traveled Highway 70 these past few years, you probably have never heard of the place. I haven’t seen any sort of advertising out there. It’s not that sort of place.

My Fried Pie Destiny.

This is the story of a fried pie. Or, more succinctly, how fried pie opened doors for my life.

I have to take you back to 2006 or so, when Vivian and Carl Barnhill came over to Today’s THV and appeared on the morning show there with the famous little half-moon pockets. I produced that show over eight years, and over that time we had a lot of different restaurants and such in. But those pies… they were something else. Something better than all the fried pies I’d ever tried before.

It was something about that crust, buttery and light and a little savory, a family secret closely kept but available to sample for just a buck 75, filled with all manners of good creamy and fruity fillings. Those pies haunted my dreams.

Fast forward to September 2007. After eight years I’d left that station to strike out on my own. I started this blog, this crazy mixed up travel and food blog, just to keep my writing chops. I was thinking about places I needed to go to fill out the fledgling project, and I thought of Ms. Lena’s. I had to go. It took me a few months to get there, but I did go.

All that… has been chronicled in a previous entry (which you can find here). It’s what happened afterward that really changed things for me.

You see, just a few days after I wrote that entry, it was featured on the Arkansas Times Eat Arkansas blog. I went from a blog that might draw five readers a day to one that was pulling in hundreds of views daily. It was my moment.
That was the start of a real whirlwind for me, that took me out of state and all over the place in the first six months of 2008 and then all over Arkansas in the years since. I even ended up as a primary contributor for the Eat Arkansas blog. And somehow, I hadn’t been able to get back to Ms. Lena’s on a Saturday morning for those fried pies.

Sometimes, when you crave something bad enough, you just do it -- no matter how weird or inconvenient it may be. While it might have been more prudent to find an assignment out east of Little Rock to go follow and just add a stop-by to my trip, I found myself unable to wait to satisfy that craving any longer.

So I bundled up my toddler daughter and off we went late one Saturday afternoon, making the 55 minute drive to DeValls Bluff for a little taste of heaven.

When I turned off of Highway 70 onto Highway 33, I could already smell those pies. The scent of that impossibly flaky yet crisp crust permeated the air a block away. We pulled up and I pulled Hunter out of the car and took her in for her first experience with Ms. Lena’s pies.

Vivian came around the corner when we got there, recognized us right away. She’d been alerted that I was coming because of my post on my Facebook fan page. We chatted a bit about old times and about my former co-workers who still come by to visit. Yes, indeed, that day at the station didn’t just draw me into a pie-trance. My fellow morning show folks were similarly affected.

I came out of that shop with a dozen pies -- one of each flavor of the day and another half dozen chocolate pies (my husband’s favorite) -- and placed the slightly open clamshell boxes in the back seat. You have to, if you want them to make it home.

And when he came home from work that night, my husband thrilled over those chocolate pies. And Hunter? She was just as thrilled as her daddy, pinching a bit of crust between her fingers and licking the filling.

You know, I’ve been a whole lot of places these past few years. I’ve learned that pie isn’t just popular around here, it’s an art form. It’s everywhere in Arkansas -- big fluffy meringues and creams, tart and juicy apple and cherry and pear and other fruit pies, and all sorts of variety of fried pies. There’s just something different about Ms. Lena’s… that makes it still worth that Saturday morning drive. That’s something that should really be shared with the world.

I just find that now I'm really in a place where I can do so. That's so cool.

Of Hubcaps and Smaller Things at Cotham's in the City.

Since 1999, politicians and the movers-and-shakers of the world have been able to take some miles off their pilgrimage to the revered Cotham's Mercantile in Scott - thanks to a cavernous, multi-leveled edifice built within eyeshot of the state capitol. Let's talk about Cotham's in the City.

Secrets of the Oaklawn Corned Beef Sandwich, Revealed.

Racing season. Hot Springs. Oaklawn. What says Oaklawn more than fast ponies, cold beer and hot corned beef sandwiches? That’s right, the legendary Oaklawn Corned Beef Sandwich. You ever wonder why, or where it’s from? Read on.

Another Thin Slice at Iriana's Pizza in Little Rock.

I've been thinking about my favorite pizzas lately, and got to the thin crust and wondered, which should I share? Well, of course, it must be Iriana's.

For those not familiar with the place, it’s in a storefront across from the Chamber of Commerce, next to The Hop. Inside, the space is all blacks, whites and grays accented by red lampshades and the red straw cups that adorn each table. It’s also a damn fine place to grab lunch.

The menu is simple… a short list of pizza toppings (just 13), a short list of sandwiches, a couple of salads, some breadstick options. Simple is good, though, especially when you’re dining solo or going dutch. You can order the small salad or the large one, the half sandwich or the whole. Nice options for this tight pocketbook economy.

Salads ($2.49 small, $4.29 large) come with Italian or Ranch dressing, that’s it -- and they’re served up with a single bulky twisted breadstick. The average pizza place uses the same dough for both pizza and breadsticks; if they’re doing that here I’m not getting it, because the breadsticks are thick, yeasty things, a bit chewy and probably meant more for dipping in sauce or wiping down with butter. That being said, they’re not typical and that’s a fine thing.

But you’re not looking for me to talk about a breadstick. You clicked through because you’re curious what I think about Iriana’s pizza. Okay. Fair enough.

Iriana’s is to me what I think of when I think of a typical Arkansas cracker-crust pizza. The particular type of pizza is thin but can hold its own. I mean to say, you can pick it up and eat it without it becoming droopy or falling apart. It’s a pizza meant to be eaten with the hands, not the fork.

The restaurant’s known for its “sweep the floor” pie, a combination of pepperoni, Canadian bacon, sausage, peppers, onions, mushrooms and olives. You can get a 12” pie or a 16” pie, but if you’re not looking to share or take it back to the office with you at lunch, you can indulge in a slice instead. A plain cheese slice is $1.89; pepperoni or mushroom are $2.19 each and a Sweep the Floor slice will come up $2.59. It’s a decent deal, considering the size of slice we’re talking about -- I’m guessing it’s a sixth or eighth of a large pizza, a big flat slice that’s bigger than the plate, quite probably eight inches long and wide at the top.

I usually go for mushroom, because I like mushrooms and I like the way Iriana’s does mushrooms, fresh and thinly sliced to go along with the pie itself. The slice is somewhere around a third of an inch thick at best, and when you pick it up it stays together. The sauce is smooth and a little salty; the cheese is a little sharp, and the crust is firm and crunchy.

There are no desserts at Iriana’s -- you can go down the street to the River Market to go assuage your sweet tooth -- but there is beer. The restaurant’s open 11 a.m. to 10 p.m. Monday through Saturday and closed on Sunday. They do offer limited delivery. (501) 374-3656. Check out the website.