There are many things I note as a dining critic. Sometimes it’s the waitstaff’s body language as they invite you to pluck fresh bread from a basket or their barest gesture as they make a wine glass disappear. You never know ahead of time whether the detail that ends up being important is the floral garnish of a cocktail, the anecdote you witnessed two tables over, the time between courses, the temperature of the room, or the name of a wine that made it into the notes you feverishly typed after a visit.
Sometimes it’s the tile that splashes across a wall, its detailed rendering a cityscape, drawn by hand and transferred to creamy black and white tile.
That was the case with José. Brady Wood’s splashy restaurant in the Park Cities was where I first discovered work from Ceramica Suro tile factory in Guadalajara.
I didn’t expect to be drawn into a fever-dream of an art weekend as I researched the origin of that tile. Nor did I realize the myriad connections Dallas has with José Noé Suro, this impresario of tile, ambassador of the art world and of his city, a two-hour flight away.
But sometimes, apparently, that happens, too.
For the June issue of the magazine, I went to Guadalajara. You can read about it here. I found out why so many people in Dallas cannot stop talking about Suro and covering their spaces with his tile. I’ve included the places you should eat and stay, if you go there. (Because, you know, I’m also a dining critic.) But, really, I was there for the art, the artists, the jacarandas that bloom purple.
Read the story here. It’s online today.
