Lorenzo’s Italian Restaurant's culinary whizzes craft a menu of family-style Italian fare from traditional and progressive, fusion-inspired recipes. Old World Italy and New Mexico seductively tango like mismatched police partners throughout the grilled chicken fettuccini Alfanso, festooned with sausage and green chili ($14.25 for full order). A dozen dynamite pasta preparations grace the dinner menu, as well as grilled rib-eye steak, served with mushrooms sautéed in merlot and a side of fettuccine alfredo ($23.25). Lunchtime yields a crew of 18 pizzas (starting at $11) to satiate stomachs, and half-portion lobster ravioli ($11.50) with lemon and butter sauce tickles tinier appetites. Lips sip on one of seven Italian sodas ($2.50), supplemented with whipped cream to mimic the experience of drinking a carbonated cloud.
The Lescombes family knows wine. As sixth-generation winemakers, Florent and Emmanuel Lescombes embrace a family legacy that spans decades and three continents. St. Clair Winery currently cultivates 180 acres of grapevines spread across the Pyramid Valley's high desert, land that Florent and Emmanuel's father, H?rve, initially sought out because of the climate's similarity to that of his home in Algeria. The warm, sun-drenched days and relatively cool nights allow clusters of cabernet sauvignon, chardonnay, zinfandel, moscato, and other varietals to fully ripen while maintaining their natural acidity. These grapes are then used to help create more than 70 different wines produced under several labels, including everything from crisp, citrus-tinged whites to lush, silken reds with hints of French or American oak.
But the Lescombes family wasn't content to only share its wines in St. Clair's tasting room, so it also founded a handful of southwestern-inspired bistros that pair them with regionally focused comfort foods. The menus feature dishes such as burgers with flame-roasted hatch chilies and open-faced tuna melts with avocado and cilantro-lime mayo as well as a number of wines available by the flight, glass, bottle, or thimbleful.
Peek across the counter at the shop's resident chocolatiers, who massage creamy loafs of chocolate on sturdy marble slabs daily. For additional culinary theatrics, feel free to cheer on the expert orchard orderlies as they kettle-dip Granny Smiths into caramel-coated creations. Caramel apples range from the classically simple (starting at $5.25) to The Monster Apple, which is rolled in mixed nuts, layered lovingly in milk or dark chocolate, and drizzled in rich white confection with liberal discretion. For additional brain pampering, strip away the core and go straight for the score with freshly fangled fudges ($13.25 per pound).
Our Texas wines are more than a reflection of our personal dedication to making world-class wines. They represent our culture and desire to share all that means in one of life's finer pleasures. Handcrafted wines with true Texas spirit. Zin Valle - made in the place where the star touches the mountain. Salud!
Hot Dog on a Stick Founder Dave Barham opened his first Hot Dog on a Stick in Santa Monica in 1946, and the company has since burgeoned into an employee-owned franchise that's more than 100 eateries strong and spans 11 states. Best known for a 100% turkey hot dog dunked in corn-bread batter made from Dave's mother's recipe and cooked in soy oil, Hot Dog on a Stick also pioneered the dipping and be-sticking of mild american and spicy jalapeño jack cheese. Smiling employees in red-, white-, and blue-striped uniforms with, as Dave put it, "a splash of lemonade," hand over cherry, lime, sugar-free, or original lemonade that they make fresh every two hours by squeezing Ventura County lemons until they cry.
Last season was a hallmark season at Sunland Park when wagers skyrocketed 32% to nearly $54 million, yielding big returns for equine enthusiasts with an eye for winners. Bet a doll hair or two and watch the global stampede of speed-steeds in Sunland Park’s Simulcast Lounge and throughout the Grandstand and Turf Club areas. Your simulcast program will serve as a papery fountain of horseracing knowledge, helping you make wise wagers and avoiding such foolish bets as taking the long odds on Hägar the Horrible being funny tomorrow. In addition to a $10 betting voucher, you and your fellow Equus ferus caballus admirer can feed on cheeseburgers, soft drinks, and French fries while comparing the goofiest horse rap monikers on your profile sheet.