All photos by Jay Barker

Oh Snuffer's cheese fries, where would we be without you?

One of the many events the weekend was Taste Addison. The fest, which celebrated its 20th birthday, served up bites from sixty-plus restaurants in the metroplex.

Rhett Miller and his Hair was on hand, but photographer Jay Barker just grabbed a whole beef-truck full of food porn.

Enjoy.

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Jay Barker

Scott Romano (left) took home the giant skillet.

Last night brought the Observer's annual celebration of station-to-station face-stuffing, a tasting event and cooking competition that packed downtown's sleek Fashion Industry Gallery and packed on a few pounds as well.

The highlight of the night, not counting the three Tiff's Treats I stuffed in my pocket on the way out, was the cook-off, which pitted Whiskey Cake's TJ Lengnick against veteran chef Scott Romano. Romano took home the prize, as you can see above; find out how, and see more, in Jay Barker's slideshow.

Our own Cheap Bastard, Alice Laussade, judged the event and will be along shortly with her take on the proceedings.

Jay Barker

A woman holds the plate in question.

Savor went off smoothly this weekend. The International Grand Tasting, hosted at the Irving Convention Center, did not sell out but felt very near capacity by 8 p.m.. You can check out the food and the people-watching in our slideshow.

Folks in the know ate quickly and spilled out onto the patio to drink wine and listen to live music. Inside, people bumped elbows and jockeyed for positions to be served at tables handing out everything from pepper jelly on crackers and kulfi pops to mushroom meatballs and a chilled spring pea soup.

If you were there, you know the plate pictured above very well. The plastic artist's easel stamped with an American Airlines logo was my albatross for the first fifteen minutes of the evening. The large disk had a spot for everything: a notch for your wine glass, a couple of holes to hold your utensils, a big trough to hold food in the center and a handle to give the user a firm grip.

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"This right here is the epitome of a hipster palace," my boyfriend so eloquently put it. We had just stepped through the front doors of Hid In 2612, a blink-and-you'll-miss-it pop-up bar located at 2612 Commerce in Deep Ellum for just four nights. The brainchild of bartenders -- excuse me, mixologists -- Michael Martensen and Brian McCullough of Cedars Social and Smoke, respectively, the bar temporarily occupies the space soon to become an extension of Cane Rosso's dining room, part of their expansion plan to accommodate the inevitable flux of new guests once their appearance on Food Network's Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives airs.

The rustic, loft-like, 1,400-square-foot space was divided into several smaller themed areas. To our left: a small wooden deck covered with decals of black ants and lawn chairs, with bright white light streaming up from underneath the planks, like a backyard Fourth of July party on the moon.

To our right: another small sitting area, the walls covered with vintage photos of women in Mad Men-era hairstyles, interspersed with Warhol pop-art bananas and Campbell's soup cans.

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Here Weego!

This year, like most years, the multi-million-dollar-slinging advertising competition known as the Super Bowl was largely dominated by those in the motor vehicle category. But if you were paying close attention, somewhere between the David Beckham ogling, flipping back and forth from the Super Bowl to the Puppy Bowl and alternating chicken wing and seven-layer dip binge eating, you might have noticed some ads featuring our favorite topic, FOOD.

Here's a rundown of the 10 best.

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Last night was Industry Night at Il Cane Rosso, and the kids (Jeffers and Zielke) from Smoke and Bolsa were serving up pie. Local and delicious were the themes.

The bar stools across the pizza pit directly in front of the mouth of the big red alien-like oven are the best seats in the house on any even slightly chilly night. The heat from the wood-burning stove penetrates out, and it's hard not to stick your hands out to catch more of the warmth.

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Sara Kerens

The space, in quieter times; the tacos, in less eaten ones.

We arrived at Wild Salsa a few minutes before our reservation on Saturday night, but the door wasn't even closed behind me when I realized we wouldn't be sitting soon. America's librarians, in town for a big conference, had descended on the downtown cantina in force, and the waiting area was a dense sea of lovable nerd. The dining room was loud and packed, too, and the staff looked like they'd been hit by a really well read tsunami: frazzled faces, snippy tone, 10 minutes for a cocktail.

We checked in at the hostess stand and learned that they were still seating 7 p.m. reservations, and were working on a two-hour wait for walk-ins. At the bar, we ordered margaritas (smooth but seemingly light on booze) and mentioned that there seemed to be a lot of bookish types. The librarian sitting at the bar heard me and jumped right in: "We do our research." To which my dining companion, taking possession of his tequila rocks, said: "I didn't know they still made libraries."

Fun times all around.

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The other night my wife, who's pregnant, worked late. I knew the chivalrous thing to do was to take care of dinner -- to have an idea, to hammer the idea through, to execute it without wavering. If I'm married 100 years I'll never fully realize how much value there is in just making the damn decision, but I'm slowly getting better. If only the decisions weren't so universally terrible.

This particular round of suspect decision-making led us to The Cheesecake Factory on Northwest Highway, which is very close to my wife's work. But upon walking through the million-pound doors, I remembered: Oh yes. I chose the world's most popular restaurant.

I have never not waited at the Factory. If you have ever not waited at the Factory, I guarantee they were closed and you were actually trespassing. That's the only reason a Cheesecake Factory is ever not completely full: Because they are closed and you're alone and it's only a matter of time until you think to yourself, Hey, where the hell's the bread? and then start unbolting the TVs from behind the bar.

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Photo by Leslie Minora

If every night ended with buckle, the world would be a better place.

​So, we're new around here. And in an effort to assimilate us into both Observer culture and make us less alien to the Dallas food scene, we were sent to the City of Ate-sponsored Supper Club at the Kessler Theater last night.

This week, Tim Byres of Smoke served up a menu that riffed on the theme "Texas roots," a homey mix of spice, barbecue and fresh ingredients -- four courses, each paired with a different wine. Herein, we recap our excellent meal with our excellent dining companions...our boss, Observer editor Joe Tone, and his boss, his lovely wife.More >>

Nick Rallo

A judge cracks into Scott's Scotch egg

One of the dishes that blew the judges minds at Iron Fork last night (still full, by the way) was Scott Romano's Scotch egg. A Scotch egg is traditionally prepared by hard boiling an egg, wrapping it in sausage and breading, then deep frying the whole damn thing. If you're an egg slut (an Anthony Bourdain nomenclature), this dish is for you.

Last night, Scott Romano wowed the Iron Forkers (and food nerds) by wrapping his soft boiled egg in the secret ingredient --California avocado. It was a fun process to watch.

Luckily, we were able to capture most of it on fancy pants video. After the jump, watch Scott Romano, chef at Charlie Palmer in Dallas, buzz through making a winning Scotch egg. A note: Scott mentioned during the process that he boils his egg for exactly 11 minutes to give it the proper runny-ness. (food-gasm).

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