If clones are going to attack, let them do it with weapons of flaccid tuna slices, gooey uni and fluffy tobiko in shades that would make a Day-Glo palette wince. That's what Sushi Kyoto II does. A replica of Sushi Kyoto I in Coppell, the Kyoto clone along this SMU pavement strip bombards you with buxom scraps of fresh raw fish: silky tuna that disintegrates in the mouth with just a little tongue pressure; smooth, delicately smoky salmon that can easily be parsed with chopsticks; sweet satiny hamachi; fluffy tobiko. Even the uni, the urchin gonad ensemble that makes infrequent successful appearances in Dallas, is firm, nutty and smoothly cool. Octopus is tender and chewy, with a gentle touch of salinity. But one of the most compelling dishes in this place isn't a fleshy aquatic critter at all. It's a snarl of seaweed pimpled with sesame seeds. The flavors in Sushi Kyoto's seaweed salad are so clean, crisp and addicting, it'll seduce all your friends and family who belt raw fish-phobic squeals whenever sushi and dinner are mentioned in the same breath. It also makes a great vegan French tickler.
How simple. How healthful. How easy to like, even for those few souls who haven't been initiated into the ways of sushi. The California roll--tuna, avocado, rice and a light coating of roe--is sort of a basic building block of American sushi dining. This is starter sushi, as much American as Japanese. Some would say it's passé, but not us. If it's over, then prime steak was out after 1966. (Actually, it was, but it hid in the mountains like a patient guerrilla fighter.) Same with the California roll. At this solid, unpretentious and thoroughly popular sushi palace, they make this old standard flawlessly. The flavors meld and blend in your little puddle of soy sauce. Start here, then work deeper and deeper into the dining ways of the Far East.
The perfect sweet treat is indulgent, both cakey and gooey, and self-contained: the cupcake. Why people bother with slicing up a big hulking cake is a mystery, especially when the Cupcake Kitchen and their enorma-cups are just a phone call away. A one-dozen minimum is required for delivery, but there are no limitations to the complete satisfaction one achieves with a bite of, say, the Triple Chocolate Threat or the You Got Chocolate in My Peanut Butter! For the fruity, there's the Mellow Yellow or The Creamsicle. And there are still more to taste. The cupcakes come in regular (large) size or Li'l Cakes, and each dozen can be made up of three varieties. Of course, you could bake your own damn cupcakes, but after partaking of Cupcake Kitchen's moist cake, rich-but-not-too-rich icing and delectable flavor, who needs to? Currently Cupcake Kitchen is open only for weekend delivery service.
It could happen to you, and it probably has: You're shopping, you're trying on, taking off, and you haven't been successful. What's more, you are now in a state of shopping fever. Sweat has formed on your upper lip, your stomach is growling louder than you can and you haven't found anything fresh in which to clothe yourself. Take a deep breath, we have found salvation. Not only does Nikolini feature incredible originals in the way of clothing and shoes, but it is also connected to one hell of an organic Greek restaurant, Organicity. The options are now limitless...a dip in the hummus, a glance at some Mary Janes, a bite of dolma, a quick try-on for that exceedingly cool A-line skirt. The original designs are on the steep side, but the bites are reasonable.
Not many places in Dallas serve goat. Only one that we know of allows you to enjoy your goat (the bovid ruminant kind, not the leering lecher type) with a mango margarita. India Palace is such a place. But India Palace is more than just a herder's handiwork laced with tequila. It's a cornucopia of mysterious Indian flavors such as Balti dishes: an Indian cooking technique that utilizes a cast-iron pot stuffed to the gills with a crush of spices--onion, garlic, ginger, coriander, cumin, fennel and mustard seeds--that collapse into a rich sauce to bathe the dish centerpiece (such as beef). Good flat breads, opulent aloo gobi (spicy potatoes and cauliflower) and delicious mulligatawny moghlai ("pepper water" soup), too. Plus India Palace makes enthusiastic use of bargain-hunter buffet tables at selected times. It's also drenched in Pepto-Bismol pink with burgundy accent points, which just might get your goat before the goat gets you.
There can be no argument that the fish is fresh at TJ's Seafood Market--it's flown in two to three times a day from exotic ports of call. A regular United Nations of fish, you've got your Dover sole from England, your sea bass from Chile, your tilapia from Ecuador. Swimming closer to home are shrimp from the Gulf of Mexico, catfish from Mississippi, rainbow trout from Idaho and lobster from Maine. Few other fish markets go to such extremes to bring you the variety, the freshness, the quality of TJ's.