Shallow People
Let's talk a little about pretentiousness. At some joints, you expect it. Like at Reata Rooftop, Michael's Ancho Chile Bar, and other hoity-toity hang-outs....
Rack ’em Up, Daddy
I tend to trot out some recurring themes on an annual basis. I’m not proud of this, but at least I didn’t do another...
Cocktail Week A-Cometh
Real talk: I would honestly rather discuss Marvel’s Luke Cage than talk about Fort Worth nightlife this week. Oh, don’t worry. This is a...
Grace-ful Women and Wine Wednesday
I’m a feminist. For some inexplicable reason, that word can terrify men and women alike. That simply means I believe in the political, economic,...
City Works on a Chicago Tex-Pat
I’m always on edge when Texans drag me to any place that bills itself as “Chicago style.” I once had a meltdown and literally...
No Tappa Kegga Brew
A while back, some off-duty bartenders and I were comparing notes about the ups and downs of making drinks for a living. We all...
A Little Pain and Fermented Grain
I’m precariously perched atop an unwelcoming bar stool, waiting out steel blue thunderheads, and drinking a jalapeño martini as Tom Waits growls, “I like...
No Wine-ing
I'm just not good with wine. I know what I like when I taste it. Conversely, I know what I want to spit out...
An Open Letter to Princess Birthday
Yo, drunk girl. Not you, the other one. Yes, you, with the tiara and the sash that says “PRINCESS!” on it. I see that...
From Finish Line to Wet Willie’s
In the 14-odd years I’ve lived in the Fort, I’ve been to Billy Bob’s exactly once, in 2002, to see Willie Nelson. I don’t...
