Deep in the heart of Texas.

We arrived at our next stop after a long day on the road. We had driven all day and only been in one state – so you know we must have been in Texas. I was extra excited because A) I was meeting an old friend I hadn't seen since college, and B) I had never, ever been to Texas before. One thing for sure; there would be BBQ.

Now, I'm from the East Coast and that's usually the Carolina style BBQ camp. This means the meat (usually pork) is served pulled, shredded, or chopped. The predominant flavor is that vinegar-based sauce - it's tart. And cole slaw is invariably on top of it. Texas BBQ sauce is darker, thicker, tomato-ier, it's sweet. And this Q is slaw-free (or, at least, on the side).

After a fury of back and forth texting from the road with my friend, we agreed to meet at the landmark Texas BBQ joint, The Salt Lick. It worked out beautifully as we rolled into town in the middle of a beautiful sunset. The restaurant wasn't too far from their house – a little ways out of Austin, on the side of a long, lonesome, bucolic road in Driftwood, Texas. They call it Hill Country.

Opened in 1969 by Augustus 'Texas Boy' Roberts, Sr. and his wife, The Salt Lick grew quickly in popularity and went from being open only a few times a year to being open seven days a week. Upon walking into the large, ye olde wagon wheel, lodge-like space, I was greeted immediately by the massive open BBQ pit filled with MEAT.

Between the four of us we ordered everything – brisket, pork ribs, beef ribs, sausage, turkey and a half of a chicken. All of which came with sides of potato salad, cole slaw, beans, bread, pickles and onions. 'Thurman's Plate' was put in front of me (because that's the dish that 'Poppa always ate'); brisket, pork ribs and sausage. We did get some sweet tea, but as for the adult beverages, BYO. Thankfully our friends brought a mobile cooler filled with local beers and a box of wine (!).

About mid-way and 32596 bites of that sweet, Texas barbeque'd meat through the meal my friend asked me, “So, do you think it's GOOOD or do you think it's good?” Fred and I looked at one another and then back to her and replied in unison, “I think it's good.” And that kind of says it all. It's a really wonderful experience. The space is fun and authentic. The BBQ pit is fantastic. The food comes out at a clip, is inexpensive (the entire meal for four was around $60) and there is a ton of it. The service is friendly and approachable. We had a box of wine. Maybe it's those Carolina BBQ roots, and though I thoroughly enjoyed my foray into Texas BBQ, it was good. Really good. And really fun.

Missing were the wheelbarrows to transport us back to our cars.

And after that day of driving and that meal, we slept a sound sleep deep in the heart of Texas.

Well, since it took two days to drive through Texas, you get to hear about two restaurants....

The next day's lunch was all mapped out. And it was all Fred. He has been an avid fan of Top Chef, along with me, for many seasons, and had been reading all about the former Cheftestant, Paul Qui, and his flourishing career in Austin. More interestingly to Fred, Qui's brick and mortar iteration of his East Side King food trucks.

We found it hiding in the back of a divy dive bar aptly called Hole In The Wall, across the street from UT. The ultimate college bar; dark, dingy, old school rock music blaring from the speakers, with pool tables, pinball machines, murals on the walls and band stickers on everything else. Qui uses this iconic space to flex his tasty, funky fusion street food riffs on Japanese, Thai and Filipino cuisines. Using the ubiquitous cilantro, mint, onion, jalapeño combination in many of the dishes, Qui throws a little shout out to Texas to boot. Boot. Texas. Get it? Hello?

Fred ordered the Thai Chicken Kara-age, Liberty Rice, Poor Qui’s Buns, Brussels Sprouts Salad, and the uber melting pot of a dish; Chicken Tortilla Ramen (bacon dashi, chicken-tortilla-Tom-Yum paste, chicken thigh, avocado, corn, corn tortilla, pickled yellow onion, jalapeño, cilantro, garlic, lime).

The food was audaciously impressive. The dishes were heartfelt, inspired and esoteric. Everything was bright and fresh and colorful. The Liberty Rice; simply steamed jasmine rice, ginger, garlic oil, basil, cilantro, mint, onion and jalapeño – yet, so bold and herbaceous. The ramen was the perfect Winter comfort soup - so complex, layered and delicious, we couldn't stop eating it in even the arid ninety degree heat. All of this beauty confidently served up in little paper dishes with little plastic utensils. And putting a mere $40 dent in the wallet.

We ate a lot of food – and fairly big food - but did not feel weighed down at all. I'd even say we left with a spring in our step and a long forgotten Clash song in our heads.

Paul Qui's Chicken Kara-age over Liberty Rice

Serves 4

Ingredients

Brine

1 cup water

1 cup sugar

1 cup white vinegar

1/2 cup fish sauce

1/4 cup chopped garlic

1/4 cup chopped thai chilies

Chicken

24 oz chicken thighs

1.5 fl oz of Chicken Brine

Sauce

1 cup water

1 cup sugar

1 cup white vinegar

1/2 cup fish sauce

1/4 cup chopped garlic

1/4 cup chopped thai chilies

1  1/2 cup Mae Ploy chili sauce

Liberty Rice

1 quart jasmine rice

1 quart water

1 tablespoon julienne ginger

1/2 cup garlic oil (heat chopped garlic in oil)

Veggies & Herbs

10 jalapeños

2 large yellow onions

1/4 bunch basil

1/4 bunch mint

1 bunch cilantro

Directions

Make the Brine

Place water, sugar, fish sauce and vinegar in bowl. Whisk until sugar is completely dissolved. Add garlic and thai chilies and whisk until both are well dispersed throughout the liquid.

Brine the Chicken

Take the chicken thighs and cut into 3/4-inch cubes, making sure to remove fat and tendons from the thighs. Place in bowl. Whisk previously prepared brine to redistribute garlic and chilies evenly. Ladle 1.5oz of brine into the bowl with the chicken and toss. Cover bowl with plastic wrap and let marinate for 8 hours before use.

Prepare the Sauce

Place water, sugar, fish sauce and vinegar in bowl. Whisk until sugar is completely dissolved. Add garlic and thai chilies to the mixture and whisk until both are well dispersed. Add mae ploy and whisk until combined with mixture.

Make the Liberty Rice

Wash rice in bowl until water runs relatively clear. Place rice in cooker and add 1 quart water. You want a 1:1 ratio of rice to water. Add ginger. Close lid and set the rice cooker to cook. Once the rice is done mix in garlic oil. Keep warm until ready to serve.

Meanwhile, Slice Jalapeños & Onions

Cut the ends and tips off of 10 large jalapeños. Using a mandolin slice the jalapeños into 1/8-inch slices. Cut the tops off of 2 large yellow onions. Peel onion halves making sure that the root of the onions remain. Slice the halved pieces of onion in half, so that the onions are now quartered. Using a mandolin slice the onion width wise into 1/8-inch slices. Place sliced jalapeños and onions in the fridge and hold until time to serve.

Prepare the Herb Mixture

Pick herbs, making sure that only the nicest green pieces are saved. Places herb mixture in bowl and toss herbs gently making sure that herbs are well mixed in the bowl. Place herbs in fridge and hold until time to serve.

Cooking and Serving

Place 1.5 pounds of brined chicken in a bowl. Pour cornstarch into the bowl and toss chicken, until well coated. Place coated chicken into sieve. Place sieve into empty metal bowl and shake chicken in the sieve until excess cornstarch falls into bowl underneath. Place chicken into fryer basket and drop into oil. Fryer should be at 375 degrees F. Cook chicken until crispy and golden brown. While chicken is cooking make sure to shake the basket so that the pieces are able to evenly cooked. Separate pieces using tongs if needed.

While the chicken is cooking take medium metal bowl and place small handful of onions and jalapeños in bowl. Set bowl aside until chicken is finished cooking.

When chicken is finished pull from oil and allowing excess oil to drain and the chicken to rest. Place chicken in the medium metal bowl that contains all the vegetables. Season chicken with 1/2 tablespoon of salt. Pour 1/4 cup chicken sauce over chicken. Toss chicken and vegetables in the sauce until all is evenly coated. The chicken and vegetables should have a nice glean to them but chicken should still be very crisp.

Place 3/4 cup cooking rice into individual bowls. Place chicken and vegetables on top of rice. Top with small handful herb mixture and your dish is ready to serve.

Serve the chicken piping hot with sliced onions and jalapeños. Top with mint, basil and cilantro.

Printable recipe.

One year ago: Ham Hock & Lima Beans
Two years ago: Cousin Flonnie's Spoon Bread
Three years ago: Spaghetti & Meatballs
Four years ago: Calbi BBQ (Food Truck)

This Bud’s For You.

I talk about my family a lot here. Mostly my mom and dad, but also Aunt Babe and my paternal grandparents, Janie and Paw Shaffner. And, of course, Breeda (family by proxy). Although it’s been almost five years since I’ve seen any of the Shaffner posse, and about ten years since I’ve been able to go back to spend Christmas with them, we keep in touch to a degree via social media and updates from my dad. And though we all differ greatly spiritually, politically and socially (and socio-politically) we all love each other and I miss them terribly. Especially around the holidays.

I know. I sound like a broken record since I say that every year. Around the holidays.

Let’s see here, I can tell you that my Uncle Doug and his wife, Aunt Janice, have both had some health issues, but they seem to be on the up and up now. Cousin Carey is very happily married, been doing some travelling and tattooing himself. His sister, my cousin Lisa, sometimes has some pink in her hair and  is very exercisey and in shape (damn her). Aunt Babe moved in with her daughter Noel in Alexandria. Scott and Dolly and their kids live pretty close to Richmond and Scott just visited with my dad today. My dad tells me they are simply amazing parents. Uncle Pat and Aunt Trish always seem strong. Pat, as always, is the big brother, oldest of the sibs and essentially patriarch of the Shaffner clan. His daughters, Kim and Missy are both happily married with kids and great jobs and much success.

But what, or rather on whom, I want to focus today is Uncle Joe. Uncle Joe and Aunt Connie. Aunt Connie is my dad’s sister, and if you followed the paragraph above you can pretty much put together this particular cluster of Shaffners. You see, Uncle Joe passed away rather unexpectedly a couple of days ago. And with this news, I am left a little bewildered and, of course, quite sad.

When Dad and I made our annual Christmas trek to Roanoke, we always, always stayed with Connie and Joe. Dad would stay in the front bedroom upstairs and I would sleep on the couch downstairs by the Christmas tree. Suffice it to say, this was torturous geography when I was a child; the temptation of all of the beautifully wrapped presents just begging to be opened. It was also torturous from ages 18-28 when I drank a little too much holiday fun times and the family assembled in the living room EARLY Christmas morning - way earlier than I was ready to start the holiday coffee and present opening. But it was the ritual. And ritual is very important to me (I’m not sure why).

There seemed to always be a cat or two around. Usually at least one of them was finicky or scared or mean or fragile or an escape artist or never came out from the basement. There was always a fire in the fireplace. Uncle Joe always had a can of Budweiser in his hand. Until the Christmas Eve dinner at Aunt Babe’s. Then it was wine. A big beef tenderloin (mouth-watering and delicious) was an annual tradition and the centerpiece of our Christmas Eve dinner, which Joe was responsible for after Aunt Babe tapered off her chef-sponsibilities. But even back when Aunt Babe bought it and cooked it everyone would laugh about how Joe would show up and immediately warn her not to cook it too long. He was also a gun toting, very far right wing, Republican. And he was my Uncle Joe. He was family.

It’s funny. When I was in high school I dyed my hair a lot and often pierced things. I especially loved going to Roanoke for Christmas for the expressions on my family’s faces. The shock value. In college, I considered myself a bit of an upstart, and I loooved to protest almost anything I could involving government. I was very easily the leftiest lefty of the Shaffners. And probably lots of other families as well. Again, I still think there was some satisfaction in the shock value of that, too. I almost looked for some extreme sentiment to spill out of Uncle Joe’s mouth so that I could heave a huge sigh and clomp out of the room. And though I still lean pretty far to the left, what I love about my family, and people, and hell, this country, is that we all get to have those opinions and we get to talk and laugh and argue about them. And who better to experience all of those things with, who has to stick by you through decades of change, hair dyes, piercings and political protests? Your family, that’s who.

I’ve been looking back at Connie’s online photo albums that she’s been archiving for years. There are tons of pictures of the entire family spanning as far back as my Great Grandparents. I was particularly drawn to the ones from the seventies, with Connie, Joe and my mom and dad and their hippie friends, everyone with long hair - so iconic, camping at The Fiddler’s Convention in 1972, in New England in 1973, and Okrakoke in 1974. They all look so rad. My mom laughed as she told me about one of these trips to Okrakoke where everything seemed to be going wrong. Dad stabbed through his hand with a knife while trying to shuck an oyster, Mom was pregnant and wasn't in the mood to have sand in her pants and big green flies feasting on her. Joe insisted on camping as planned. Ordinarily Joe would have emerged victorious, but not this time. Mom and dad checked into a hotel with Joe kicking and protesting all the way. But so very Joe. Such a contrarian. So badass.

Idiosyncratic, nuanced, difficult, compassionate, generous, kind, opinionated, honest, interested, interesting, intelligent, a great cook, camper, fisherman, smoker of meats (and cigars), true to himself and good to his family. Salt of the Earth. That’s what comes to mind when I think hard about Joe.

Normally I would wrap up this post with a recipe, or sometimes a restaurant review. This time I decided to drive out to an old hamburger stand, deep in the Valley; Bill's Hamburgers. It's been there, unchanged, with it's eight (8) stools, since 1965 (which is really old by LA standards), and run by 85 year-old Bill who is as salty as his burger. Bill, and his jokes-to-offend-and-enchant every race, creed, sex, and color, has been there since day one flipping his burgers - and on the very same griddle that is but a few years his junior. Joe would like this guy and this spot, for sure. So I grabbed Maggie and six pack of Budweiser (in the can) to sit on the side of the road, eat a burger and make a toast. 

This one's for you Uncle Joe.

One year ago: M.B. Post
Two years ago: Homemade Pasta
Three years ago: Griiled Cheese Night at Campanile

Mozart. Music. Flowers & poetry.

 
It’s Sunday morning, we’ve just gained an hour, and it’s pouring down rain. It’s perfect. The next Dinner at Eight is creeping up and I’ve been testing recipes like it’s nobody’s business (or definitely like it’s my business). I’m very pleased with the creamy chestnut soup, though I haven’t settled on its garnish. The only problem with the soup is that I gave all my friends samples of it and completely forgot to take some to Jill so she can assess an appropriate paIring. So I’ll be making that again today.

Maggie is infusing the vodka with kabocha and acorn squash for her cocktail and Esi just dropped off her first go at the pumpkin bread pudding with bourbon-vanilla sauce. And I have made two, overly massive, rounds of the short-rib stew with mushroom and parsley dumplings. The second one pretty much nailed it. 

Save for the anxiety dream in which I told the guests the wrong date resulting in no one showing up, I think everything is on course.

It seems things are going well in my universe. Things are stable. Work is picking up, I finally caught up on Sons of Anarchy and sleep, and an old, college friend, Frampy, stopped through town for a visit. That was nice. Mostly.

But let’s get back to the stew. And the dumplings. You see, I had never made dumplings before this whole project. I didn’t really know exactly what to expect. The recipe I used is from The Colony Club Cookbook: one of the dozen old school cookbooks I brought back from my recent trip to Richmond. The recipes in this – and many of the cookbooks from this place and time – are very archaic and very, very simple. They are made for people who were already familiar with the techniques and ingredients that they require and also with how the end result should look, feel, smell, and taste. They are short and sweet.

But for someone like me, who is accustomed to Sunday Suppers at Lucques, with recipes that are pages long, these old school cookbooks are so simple that they become complex.

For instance, with this stew (recipe originally from Gloria Brahany), after searing off the short ribs in their flour mixture, I am supposed to combine four cups tomatoes, some garlic and a little Worcestershire, simmer for and hour and a half and pour over ribs. Fresh tomatoes? Canned tomatoes? This is my stock?  No red wine? No chicken or beef stock? The rest of the directions instruct me to add sliced carrot, onion, potato, and simmer for forty-five minutes. Well, that’s hardly enough time to get the veggies all soft and smushy. Where’s the bay leaf? Where’s the thyme? Hell, where’s the salt and pepper?

Apparently the good folks using this cookbook needed only some bare bones, a skeleton off of which they could riff. And it’s true, a basic beef stew is not rocket science. But what’s the point of a cookbook then, right?

So first off the lack of anything except tomato that would create liquid bemused me.  But the tomatoes quickly became a viable stock, if a bit too sweet. And too tomato-y. Also, Maggie thought that we should do mushroom and parsley dumplings rather than just parsley dumplings. Without thinking I followed the recipe for parsley dumplings and did not compensate for the amount of moisture the mushrooms would add. The dumplings fell apart if you merely looked at them too hard.

Okay. Round two. This time I began with marinating the short ribs in red wine, salt and pepper overnight. I then used about half the tomatoes but added two cups of home made chicken stock and a quarter cup of the marinade wine. I doubled the garlic, added a bay leaf, a sprig of fresh sage, a little thyme and a generous amount of salt and pepper. For the dumplings I compensated for the moisture by adding a great deal more flour, less milk and a drop more salt. I also made the dumplings considerably smaller as they poof up twice their original size once they steam up. They still looked weird to me, but after I did some research online, they looked exactly the way they were supposed to. 

Another example of how stripped down the instructions in the cookbook are. There is no description of how things are supposed to turn out.

The fact that I used LindyGrundy’s meat the second go ‘round also made a world of difference. I would have used theirs the first time but they were closed on the day I needed to get started. Of course, their meat will be used for the stew at the dinner party.

So, in the time it’s taken me to write this, the sun has come out and the sky is clear and bright blue. I’ve still got that extra hour. It’s perfect.

But we are full-on in the throes of Fall and Winter is three weeks away. The holidays are not far off. It’s time for stew.

Short Rib Stew with Mushroom & Parsley Dumplings

Serves 6

Cut 2 lbs beef short ribs into serving pieces. Marinate in red wine overnight.

Combine 1/4 cup all-purpose flour, 1 tbsp salt, 1/4 tsp pepper; dredge ribs in mixture and brown on all sides in 2 tbsp hot fat.

Combine ribs with 2 1/2 cups chopped Roma tomatoes, 2 cups chicken or beef stock, 1/4 cup marinade wine, 4 cloves of chopped garlic & 1 tbsp Worcestershire sauce. Cover and simmer for 2 hours. 

Add 4 sliced carrots, 2 medium onions, chopped, 1 medium potato, peeled and chopped, 1 bay leaf, a sprig of fresh sage and a tsp of thyme. Cover and simmer, stirring occasionally for 2 more hours.

Skim off the fat and season with salt & pepper to taste.

Mushroom & Parsley Dumplings

Sift together 1 1/2 cup sifted all-purpose flour, 2 tsp baking powder, 3/4 tsp salt. Add 1/4 cup chopped parsley and 3 tbsp chopped mushrooms. Combine 1/4 cup milk and 2 tbsp vegetable oil, and add to dry ingredients. Stir just until flour is dampened. 

Form small, large-marble sized balls atop bubbling stew. Cover tightly and bring to a boil. Reduce heat (do not lift cover!) and simmer for 15 minutes longer.

Printable Recipe

One year ago today: SugarFISH
Two years ago today: Scallops with Wild Mushroom Risotto & Rosé Fonduta

Relating to Relate with the Relationchef.

Y’all know I love a little food adventure. But, admittedly, after my culinary extravaganza in San Francisco a mere forty-eight hours prior, I was slightly daunted to travel to San Diego and back in one evening for dinner this past Wednesday night. And my car is scary.

But I said I would do it, and do it I would.

This meal of which I speak was a special preview dinner for Chef Dan Moody’s new pop up, Relate (opening night was Thursday). Yes, he hath flown from the nest of Chef Ludo and jumped into his very own venture, serving up his contemporary French-influenced fare, peppered with a bit of classic American and Asian. I enjoyed his dishes from the Sous Chef night at Test Kitchen – particularly the foie gras- powdered donuts, and was eager to see what he would do with an entire food-cosm all his own.

And so, at 4:30, I hopped in the car with high hopes of not breaking down and arriving at Bistro St. Germain’s by 7:00pm.

And then there was traffic. And then there was more traffic. And then there was none. And then I flew down the I-5S like a bat out of hell to arrive a little before 7:30, right in the middle of Dan addressing the room prior to the first course. I felt a little like a jerk. I so hate being late. Then I saw the waving hands and smiling faces of Kevin and Holly beckoning me to join them and I felt a little better.

Not unlike the Ludobites model, Dan chose Bistro St. Germain’s as it's more of a breakfast and lunch spot, quaint, very casual and looking to explore new roads. I would have liked the lights a little bit dimmer (night-time make-up and all), and perhaps some music, but I appreciated the original paintings on the walls and found the spot to be comfortable and welcoming.

The menu is around five courses at $55 with an additional $15 for pairings (that night from the Mount Palomar Winery). The French Onion Soup course and the Beet Chip in the lobster course were absent due to first night hitches in the giddyup, but this was certainly not a hill to die on.

So let us begin with our amuse; a Carrot Consommé Shooter. The shooter was soft, supple, slightly chilled and topped with a bold ginger foam. I really liked the subtlety of the consommé matched with the zing of the ginger. Pop goes the palate!

Next up we were poured a glass of 2007 viognier (thank baby Jesus, it was finally Wine O'Clock) to ride along with the Roasted Baby Beet Salad, Golden Beet Vinaigrette. Historically, I’m not big on viogniers, but have been opening up to them a bit more recently. This was very buttery and reminiscent of a chardonnay in that it seemed to have that double malolactic quality. Conceptually a good choice for the beets. This salad was beautiful, colorful and innovative – and, while executing itself simply, had a lot going on. I adored the crisp, earthy addition of the baby purple radish in the dish. The lettuce leaves on which all rested were somewhat difficult to conquer without a knife. I just used my hands.

Our next wine was the 2008 cortese, and was not unlike the viognier, but perhaps a bit milder, more minerally. This went with the Butter Poached Lobster, Warm Egg & Caviar Salad, Leeks with Fennel Jam, Onion Froth. Again, this dish was beautiful both aesthetically and conceptually. Holly loved the fennel jam, Kevin did not. I found all of the elements involved in the dish to be surprising and of interest, if not sewn together ideally. I really appreciated the challah underneath it all - it’s crispness adding a nice contrast in texture. The 63 degree egg was also a lovely element. The laced magenta micro-greens were a perfect touch as well.

I was super excited about the next dish, the Rabbit Cassoulet, as I am a huge cassoulet fan and always order it when I spy it on a menu. This, paired with the 2006 merlot, was absolutely my favorite dish of the evening. And I believe Kevin and Holly felt the same. My only beef with the dish is I wanted a hundred more bites of it! I really appreciated the shout out to the Chinese New Year and the advent of the Year of the Rabbit. Again, Moody’s use of the garnish in the micro bull blood ended up being a star element of the dish, bringing that snappy freshness in. While not being what I would want as a tremendously drinkable wine, the merlot ended up working quite well with the dish.

Moody’s calling card, if you will, the Spiced Beef, Spinach Avocado Puree, Crispy Porcini Spaetzle, Black Truffle, Guiness Gastrique was up next, paired with a 2007 meritage. This dish reminded me of a perfectly composed photograph: when the viewer’s eye lands at a precise (and intended) spot on the image and travels around for a while along the artist’s map, so to speak. This, too, had a successful (and intentional) trajectory. The beef was beautifully cooked and its spice was quite the eye-opener – BLAM! But then it was slightly neutralized by the avocado, reawakened with the gastrique and toned back down with the spaetzle. While I doubt anyone was complaining, the truffle seemed little more than an afterthought. This paring, I felt, was the most successful.

After a brief intermission for the resident artist, Christopher M., to present Moody with a portrait, we were served our final course: Smoked S’mores, House-Made Graham Crackers, Agave Marshmallow, Chipotle-Orange Ganache, Tequila Créme Anglaise (a dish of his appearing hitherto at Ludobites), paired with a port. I’m not a huge sweets gal, but I enjoyed this dish. The marshmallow embodied a succinctly campfire smoked quality that, Moody explained, was created with a smoking gun (no, not a real gun, of course). A port was the right choice, but I found this particular one to be too young and thin to even come close to standing up to the dish.

I enjoyed my meal. I related to my meal. If this pop up was, in this, my City of Angels, I would return to see how it morphs throughout the month. I am curious to see a few things pushed and pulled this way and that, and I would like to see much more innovative and daring pairings. But hot damn, Mr. Moody, big ups!

So, and then, I drove home at warp speed while listening to Mogwai’s Mr. Beast at an Earth-shattering volume, to crawl into my jammies, pour a glass of cabernet, and watch the latest episode Jersey Shore (yeah... so shoot me) with Maggie and the pups as I ruminated on yet another foodventure.

Relate at Bistro St. Germain's
1010 S Coast Highway 101, Encinitas, CA 92024
858.367.3709
www.relaterestaurant.com
Tuesday through Saturday 2/3/11 – 2/26/11, 6:00 PM – 10:00 PM