Texas de Brazil blends the steak-centric cuisine of Texas with the traditional churrasco method of slow-roasting meat over an open flame grill to form a luscious meaty mélange. The full dinner ($39.99) marches out a cavalcade of choice cuts, allowing diners to welcome continuous windfalls of flavorful proteins. Brandish your table's provided card, green on one side, red on the other, and it will function as a meat traffic light that summons servers to either send stacks of seasoned beef, pork, or lamb skewers or halt plate traffic like a decorated culinary crossing guard. Or feel free to substitute greens for the grill by stepping into the sprawling salad-bar conga line ($24.99), two-stepping through toothsome goodies such as imported cheeses, steamed asparagus, and dozens of other hors d'oeuvres.
Commence your weekend with starter such as crawfish-and-artichoke dip ($12) or a bacon-chocked steakhouse salad with green-peppercorn buttermilk dressing ($7). Entree salads include larger, decadent options like the McIlhenny, masa-fried oysters over greens with homemade buttermilk dressing and McIlhenny tabasco chipotle ($11), or a Southern fried-chicken salad with a Jack Daniel's mustard vinaigrette ($10.50). Get back on the meatwagon with the steakhouse bacon cheeseburger ($9.50) or the blackened prime rib, served with roasted-pepper and portobello-mushroom salad ($24), or dive below the surface of the plate for barbecue shrimp smothered in Abita Amber sauce ($16.50).
Against a backdrop of burnished wood walls, an intricately wrought gilded frame surrounds a Budweiser poster. This playful contrast between sophistication and informality extends to the rest of the dining room, where candles cast circles of light on crisp white tablecloths and a wood-beam ceiling as crowds enjoy live rock music played during happy hour.
When it comes to the cuisine, chefs prepare the same steakhouse fare they unveiled in 1969. Succulent slabs of steak cook on the grill alongside fresh seafood dishes, which are then topped with elegant flourishes such as crawfish rémoulade or jumbo lump crabmeat in the shape of a top hat.
Rough wood walls and exposed brick-and mortar accents frame wood-topped tables at Sante Fe Cattle Company, lending it the look of an Old West ranch or corner saloon. Behind walls covered with western movie posters and cowboy portraits, the kitchen staff cuts steaks by hand, commands yeast rolls to rise, and builds sauces from scratch instead of melting them from freeze-dried blocks. The kitchen follows precise family recipes to grace tabletops with a menu of southern-style favorites, such as hickory-smoked ribs, chicken-fried steak, and fried catfish fillets. Live music fills the room on certain nights, and mist fans on the outdoor patio cool people off after a long day on the range or singing about spending the days on one.
Nooley's, an high-ceilinged eatery on Highway 44, welcomes patrons with cold beer, comfort food staples, and football games on the flat-screen TV. Po' boys with au jus gravy, shrimp tossed in wing sauce, and fresh-cut curly fries loaded with cheddar cheese, bacon, and other toppings are just a few of the treats on the menu.
A name like Crazy Dave's Daiquiri Bar and Grill carries with it certain expectations. One wouldn’t be surprised, for example, to hear that raucous crowds regularly descend on the bar to cheer for their favorite sports teams. Nor would it seem strange to spot a funky band or a karaoke diva on the restaurant’s stage. There is one thing that Crazy Dave’s takes seriously, however: its daiquiris. Twelve flavors of daiquiris blend into 28 combinations with whimsical names such as the Flamingo—strawberry and piña colada—and the Mr. Wonderful—white russian, strawberry, and amaretto. The grill offers a hot and spicy counterpoint to the blended drinks’ chill with its Southern-style po’ boys and seafood. All entrees come with fries or beer-battered onion rings, which double as lifesavers in the event that someone falls into a gallon-size jug of daiquiri.