RESTAURANTS Star Canyon

ANDREW ROBINSON IS ONE TOUGH CUSTOMER. Growing up in the San Francisco Bay area- the epicenter of America’s gastronomic renaissance-he cut his culinary teeth on Chez Panisse, Square One and Stars. He’d lunch on Alice Waters’ free-range chicken sandwiches garnished with goat cheese and hand-picked basil. He’d prowl Chinatown for dim sum, North Beach for fresh pasta variations.

Andrew’s wife, Kelly, is no pushover, either. A Texas native, she thought they’d moved to a gastronomic backwater when they relocated to the Baltimore area. She found the food bland and boring despite the region’s rich haul of seafood, usually served breaded and incinerated in deep fat.

We met them at the West End’s Taste of Dallas, and they began grilling me: Did I know a good Thai place? Where’s the best brunch? A good setting for a business lunch?

Just what I was looking for: critics!

“D magazine wants to rake you for dinner, on us,” I told them. “Where would you like to go?”

“Can you get us into Star Canyon.’”

(See, you can take the boy out of California, but you can’t take California out of the boy.) Since its media-blitzed opening last spring, Star Canyon and celebrity chef Stephan Pyles come as close to California trend surfers as anything to hit Dallas: “an absolute genius” (The New York Times). “Almost single-handedly changing the cooking scene in Texas” (Bon Appétit).

Star Canyon is just what a California boy would look for in a restaurant. The Southwestern creation of homeboy Stephan Pyles (of the late and lamented Routh Street Cafe), it’s become the hottest meal ticket in town. Maybe we couldn’t get them in. Andrew said even the Mayor couldn’t get a reservation on short notice. (Andrew-is Special Events Manager for the city of Dallas.) Luckily, the first convenient date for four was a month away, about the average wait for a reservation.

When the day came, Kelly wondered what to wear; she’d be coming straight from the office. (Kelly sells real estate for Centex. ) So will everybody else, 1 told her. Office clothes are the gear of the hour for early week-night diners. Later in the evening and on weekends the dress code veers more towards both extremes: kickback-casual or all duded up. And as always in Dallas, there are enough women in black to make a respectable funeral procession. (Why is that, I wonder? In New York women wear black to differentiate themselves from tourists. In Dallas is it because no woman thinks she’s thin enough?)

Waiting at the bar, we ran into Michael Fiebrich of Wilson & Associates, the restaurant’s designers. Michael was pleased when Kelly asked about the wall sconces: stylized metal longhorns crafted by the family of artists who created a sculpture garden in Austin. Working with Stephan, Wilson planned the place as a pinata of little visual surprises: glance down and note that the tables have lone stars welded into their bases. Look up and the ceiling arrests you with leather tiles tooled with the names of Texas towns. A series of Stetsons in Kodachrome colors is tucked into cubbyholes. The lamps on the table are curved horns. Cowboy motifs decorate the china.

Seated at the table, we discover that even the menu is a work of art. What to order? My theory: you’d be crazy not to take die chef’s suggestions…who would know better? So we agreed to Stephan Pyles’ fall harvest menu. It opened with a hearty chowder of white beans and pumpkin topped with roasted garlic croutons and pomegranate creme fraiche. Kelly commented on the texture: the beans retained a pleasing firmness, and the pumpkin was chunky, no! the usual puree. The sweet-sour astringency of pomegranate was a perfect counterpoint.

The next course: molasses-grilled quail on a bed of arugula with a crumble of Texas blue cheese. Spicy pecans and a fan of sliced, wine-poached pear crowned the presentation, Kelly enthused about the many flavors arid textures you can taste at once, yet each is distinct and complementary. The smoky richness of the quail was perfectly accented by the earthy fullness of the arugula, a misunderstood green that’s not so much bitter as densely flavored. The texture of the pear, at once gritty and buttery, had an added bite of clove and cinnamon and a stab of serrano chile. Smoke and the dark sweetness of molasses infused the layers of flavor into a crescendo so exciting we wanted to cheer.

Even my husband, Jerry, who generally rejects quail as “labor-intensive,” left no tiny bone unpicked. (We square offon this topic: in my opinion, calories should not be too easy to consume.)

If Stephan Pyles made a convert with the quail, he then scored another success with his next course: coriander-cured venison. When Kelly said, well, she’d try it, I knew game was not her bag. (See, here’s why you should consider the chef’s suggestions. Otherwise Kelly would never have known that venison could be served in thin, pink-in-the-middle, fork-tender slices to rival the best prime beet filet.)

Saffron-scented steam emerged when my fork broke through the golden crust of the risotto cake that accompanied the venison. Stephan explained: short-grain rice is stirred with rich chicken stock, nutty Pecorino cheese and an onion sofrito, then left to cool until it can be formed into cakes. Finally it’s dusted with commeal and grilled.

Star Canyon is not a place to skip dessert; if you can’t eat it, you can always admire it as artwork, Tonight’s treat was rice pudding, but not your nursery dessert. This rice pudding packed the playful suiprise of white chocolate. And it was steamed inside a corn husk: a tamale! Stephan topped it off with sweet fermented pineapple, and presented it on a plate inscribed with southwest themes drizzled in the richest, deepest chocolate you’ll ever taste (flown in from Maui). At once homey and tropical, the creamy filling has an almost Brandy Alexanderesque flavor, thanks to the white chocolate playing against the rum-fermented fruit topping- The dessert was roundly applauded: Kelly and Andrew said they’d order again (but Andrew admitted he hadn’t been enticed by the thought of a com husk filled with rice pudding. Score one more for chefs’ suggestions.)

Having once been a waiter, Andrew likes good service: the proper balance of solicitous unobtrusiveness. Small things: at Star Canyon, the water glasses are large and kept filled. Wine glasses are quietly topped. A new kind of nine-grain bread appears miraculously at the very minute you plan to reach for it. If stars were to be given out, Andrew and Kelly would have heaped the firmament on Stephan Pyles, his staff and everyone instrumental in creating Star Canyon.

The ultimate judgment: would they come back on their own? Yes, as soon as they can get a reservation.

the experience

Decor: Dressed up cowboy whimsy heavy on heritage; copper and leather hand-tooled bar, snake-shaped door pulls, longhorn iron sculpted sconces, cactus and barbed wire etched glass, barn dance mural over the open kitchen, cozy niches. Warm lighting glows from long-horn shells with buckskin shades. Early evening light is filtered through hand-stitched buckskin window screens. Sundown colors: terra cotta, brick, forest, gold. Design credits a Who’s Who of home-grown artists and artisans.

Chef: 5rh generation homeboy Stephan Pyles, formerly of the dearly departed Routh Street Cafe. There, barely out of his 20s, he became the founding father of the “new” Texas cuisine. Still boyish at 42, Stephan has refined his vision, reborn for the ’90s in Star Canyon, with the aid of co-owners Michael Cox (formerly a Morton’s manager) and TCBY president Herren Hickenbotham. They seem to be making good on a promise to provide the ultimate Texas dining experience at accessible prices.

Cuisine: Open kitchen with 20-foot Texas limestone fireplace; a clutch of hyperactive young chefs with the energy of line-dancers steps and scurries to slice, dice, stir and whir native ingredients into dazzling dishes with a cowboy cum Latin, Cajun, soul and Southwestern spin.

Sound and Music: Softly-stylized cowboy songs burble below the busy din, reverberating off all that tile and iron. Not the place for an intimate conversation.

Dress Code: After work, professionals in power suits or creative casual; after dark, those who went home to change show up in low-key dress-up or upscale dress-down. Lots of black dresses. In summer: a rainbow of beige.

Table Setting: Texas oak inlaid with mesquite stars, china hokeyed up with tongue-in-cheek buckin’ broncos and barbed wire with a neo-Fort Worth garage sale cachet.

Flowers: What else, a yellow rose on every table.

Who Goes There: Everybody who’s anybody, plus wannabes and watchers waiting at the bar. Customers and clients, 35-plusers, affluents and influentials, serious foodies and wine groupies, anybody you’ve ever heard of in Texas, plus visitors from all over; German tourists, Japanese investors, advance purchase vacationers savvy enough to have booked a reservation along with their flights.



Lookout for: Movers and shakers, any touring celeb or bead of state who happens to be in town at the moment.



Prices: Surprisingly affordable. No kidding: shellfish tamale with anchos, $6.50. Entrees range $14-$ 18, average lunch around $12, dinner around $30; extensive fairly priced wine list includes big selection of Texas bargains. You could wine and dine big time for less than $50.



Best Seating: Don’t miss a trick from a perch at the counter, Order a slice of wild venison sausage pizza, a glass of Texas pinot, and pick which show you want to watch: the kitchen or the room. Dining a deux? Ask for one of the niches or nooks. Wannabe seen and see? Table 30. Escape the din; eat outside. Or round up seven friends and reserve the wine room for 8 at 8.



Address/Hours: 3102 Oak Lawn Avenue at Cedar Springs, Suite 144 in the Centrum Tower, near downtown. Reservations (required): 520-STAR(7827)



the menu

Texas wild game and poultry, Gulf coast seafood, local cheeses, certified Black Angus beef, barbecue, tamales, Mexican, Tex-Mex, down home influences with a Napa/Santa Fe edge.

Appetizers: Jalapeno-stuffed smoked quail, wood-roasted rabbit enchilada with avocado relish and mango cream.

Entrees: Honey-fried chicken with spiced whipped potatoes and buttermilk. biscuits. Gulf Coast red snapper on Texas jambalaya dolloped with chilipiquin aioli, a kind of spicy garlic mayo. Maple-glazed spit-roasted pheasant stuffed with blue corn chorizo dressing. Wild mushroom meatless enchilada with corn griddle cakes, chile relleno filled with black bean chili, steak ’n’ cowboy beans with red chile onion rings and Habanero horseradish potatoes.

Desserts: Lace cookie taco and berries under caramel, Maui chocolate empana-da with dried cherries and whiskey butter, sweet potato carrot cake, apple spice cake with pecan ice cream.