Wednesday, July 31, 2013
10 curiously-named restaurants in Dallas-Fort Worth
Occasionally, we have to wonder who the brains are behind restaurant names. If it takes a parenthetical pronunciation to tell you how to say a restaurant's name, that's not good.
A poorly-chosen name doesn't mean that restaurant has bad food, necessarily. It does mean that time is spent talking about semantics when the focus should be on the sustenance.
Here's our list of restaurants whose names are hard to say, hard to spell, or hard to understand. What did we miss?
Slow Bone: We don't have pronunciation troubles with Slow Bone, but we can't help but hear the music from a '70s porno playing in our heads as we try to decide what kind of establishment "Slow Bone" might be. For those still wondering, it's Jack Perkins' barbecue joint on Irving Boulevard -- a perfectly proper place where all the slow boning takes place behind closed (smoker) doors.
HG Sply Co.: When this Paleo place opened on Lower Greenville in 2013, did they give up vowels in addition to giving up grains, legumes, and dairy? The name stands for "hunter/gatherer supply company," but the name sounds a lot more like a Home Depot knockoff than a place to enjoy a meal.
FT33: The explanation behind this Design District restaurant is actually kind of cool. FT stands for "fire table" -- the phrase yelled when it's time to prepare the next course for a table -- and 33 is the number of the most prominent table in the restaurant. Clever, yes. Confusing, plenty.
Uno Due Go: We hate to pick on a restaurant that's hardly open, but the spankin-new Uno Due Go that opens at Plano's northeast corner of Park & Preston has a name we still don't know how to say. The concept is a fast-casual pizza place, and you may have seen its sibling restaurants at DFW Airport. One Yelp reviewer gave the Boston restaurant five stars but noted early in the review, "I haven't the faintest idea how to pronounce it." Right with ya.
Grip: Try to search for "Grip" on the Internet. GRIP Mediterranean Grill, with locations in University Park, Arlington, and Denton is a restaurant that sells wraps. Which you "grip." Well, unless you're ordering a salad or a side.
20 Feet: Marc Cassel's seafood place in East Dallas, named 20 Feet, has to pay homage to seafood that swims or sits or shimmies 20 feet under water, no? No: Nancy Nichols at D Magazine says it's named for his five dogs -- they have 20 feet. Naming anything food-related after dogs is questionable, but naming it after their feet? A-paw-lling.
Hopdoddy: We kept checking our headline: Is it Hopdoddy or Hopdaddy? OK, we had it right. It's Hopdoddy. What is a hopdoddy? Apparently "hop" is for beer, and "doddy" is the name of beef from Scotland. Plenty of people wait in line for their hamburgers and good beer, too, but the name kills us. If we're making up words, why not BrewBurger?
Mot Hai Ba: The name means "1, 2, 3" in Vietnamese, which seems simple enough. But the new Lakewood restaurant from Colleen O’Hare and Jeana Johnson doesn't roll off the tongue, perhaps because we didn't spend such time in Vietnam like they did. The trouble with Mot Hai Ba is all its variations: Mot Ha Boi. Ma Hot Boi. Mot Hot Bot. Now try saying the real name.
Chicken Scratch: Since it opened, Chicken Scratch has tripped us up. What would it sell? Chicken feed. Chicken feet. Those would be incorrect, as the West Dallas establishment -- a beloved one, at that -- sells fried chicken. From scratch. We get it, but it wasn't easy.
The Pegasus News staff contributed to this story.