4527 Lomitas Ave.
Houston, TX 77098
Aaron and I are big fans of upscale sports bars, or really any non-divey sports bars that serve things other than fried stuff. I’m not opposed to fried stuff (believe me) but if I ate fried shit Sundays, Mondays, AND Thursdays, I would have to move into the gym.
In addition to non-divey sports bars, we also both love boobs. When Twin Peaks opened, it was a win-win-win-win-win situation. We love boobs so much so that we’ve made up a game for it: R or F (real or fake). It’s pretty straightforward. When we walked into Twin Peaks, we were both slightly distracted by the possibilities of R or Fs abound.
Aaron: Yeah, so *something something about work*
Amy: *Stares at waitresses’ boobs*
Aaron: *Stares at waitresses’ boobs* What was I saying?
Hostess: Party of two?
Amy and Aaron: *Stares at hostess’s boobs*
Enough about boobs. Ok, except for the fact that the theme is ski lodge. When you think ski lodge, you normally think cold, aka, bundle up with warm coats, etc. Right? But in reality, when you think ski lodge, you should really think flannel patterned bikinis, booty shorts, and snow boots! Duh! This version of a ski lodge is much better.
(Image courtesy of Twin Peaks)
I mean, really.
As we waited for our table, we watched a screen that had a rotation of waitresses and their bios. I believe this one is majoring in “international business and Spanish.”
I’m so sure. Also, this is totally not the girl we saw. It’s just a random picture I found on Twin Peak’s facebook page (yes I am FB friends with Twin Peaks, what.) but does it really matter?
On to the food and drinks. Wait one more thing. They have their own TV at every booth! And you can change it to whatever station you want! HOW AWESOME IS THAT?!
They make their own beer. Random but true. They have two kinds, the blond and the brunette. We also shared a medium-sized pulled pork nachos.
The short beer, or what they call “girl size”:
The tall beer, appropriately named “man size.” Not sexist at all, these names! Really, when you’re in the monkey house, just forget about plugging your nose and embrace the shit stink already.
He ate: I was still hungover from yesterday, but when our HOT waitress asked if what I wanted to drink, I didn’t want to look like a pussy by ordering a diet coke. So I got the short blonde beer instead. She described it as a Blue Moon type beer (Amy rolled her eyes at that as Blue Moon is to her the equivalent of a sorority girl’s piss) but I got it anyway. It was above expectation and came with some bits of ice on top.
She ate: I have a self-imposed rule of not drinking during the week, so I was perfectly happy to order the short brunette from our…short brunette waitress. She was very, very hot, but sadly her shift ended after our first round of drinks and Jessica took over after she left. Jessica, at first glance, was a scary hot mess. She was tall and skinny but that fact was overshadowed by the ten layers of clown make up she had on. On the third look when I forced myself not to scream every time I saw her face, I realized she is actually very hot and could be a model if she bought a Costco-sized tank of make up remover. She needs a makeunder, hard, Sammy style. Fuck it, now that I look at Sammy’s picture, she wears about fifty times more make up than Sammy. For real. Imagine two sets of eyelashes and one bright red line for lips. And an orange face. YAAHHHHIIIIIKES! We ordered the nachos, then ten minutes later Jessica came back and asked if we ordered food. We said yes and she said “Oh YEAH! Duh! I totally forgot. I totally already put that order in! Heehee!” I laughed and told Aaron in real life Jessica and I would be friends (like how in real life I would be friends with Kanye and Britney). I found her adorable and completely funny. Aaron said I had my skimpy clothes goggles on, and in order to be friends with me, all a girl would have to do is to dress slutty and act flirty.
My beer was really good. It had some bits of ice on top, which I found strange but was fine when I drank it. It came in a frosted mug with a handle, which I always love because it makes me automatically talk in a pirate voice, sloshing my mead around. I think I’m getting my pirate and renaissance things mixed up but who cares. I was only sorry that I got the short size, and on the next round I got the MAN SIZE. Because I am a MAN. The man size ALSO COMES IN A MUG WITH A HANDLE! It pretty much blew my mind. Aaron’s beer could be okay in the summer, but I was not a big fan. The only other place in Houston that I like is the Volcano. Their mug is so huge that i had to drink it with both hands (and pee fifty times in between) but it was totally, totally worth it. A gallon of Shiner? Don’t mind if I do!
Pulled nachos. Comes in medium or large. This is the medium. Good lord.
He ate: I thought the nachos were going to be TERRIBLE so I was happy when they were edible. Actually, they were surprisingly good. The pulled pork was really tender and it came with a sweet tangy sauce.
The place made me want to go to a strip club real bad. Next to our table the waitress sat down and talked to the group of guys. It was completely sketcharama. It probably didn’t help that she was by far the ugliest waitress in the restaurant and had some belly rolls when she sat down. There was another waitress wearing a Star Wars belt. I did not find that hot at all. NOPE I DID NOT. I DID NOT STARE AT HER THE WHOLE TIME. Nope. She definitely knew how to play to her audience (this place is near Rice. Enough said.)
And yes, the TVs in each booth was clutch. We will definitely come back here.
She ate: The nachos were delicious. We almost got the queso instead, and after seeing the nachos, no matter how awesome the queso could have been (it was not that awesome, I saw someone else get it), the nachos were the right choice. They looked like a tower of regurgitated throw up (I guess that’s repetitive, but you get my point) and poo, which was an immediately sign that they were going to be delicious, according to my new bible, My Inner Fatty. Aaron was right on point: the pork was tender, tangy, and sweet. I liked that the nachos came in a tower with sour cream, melted shredded chedder, queso (yes that’s different), mashed refried beans, pork, sweet tangy sauce, and green onions. All the ingredients were layered so each chip gets a little of each ingredient. The chef cleverly drizzled the sauce and queso so that each chip had a lot of flavor.
I personally LOVE nachos, as they were the most expensive and coveted item in junior high, and whenever I got them I treasured the velveeta dripping down my seventh grade fingers. My fond association for nachos are not shared by Aaron, who considers them substandard food, but agreed to share them since he felt like having some sort of “chip product.” Because I hold nachos in such high standards, I am always disappointed when they’re done poorly, like in movie theaters (Tostito rounds? Really? Kill yourselves.) or Chuy’s nachos, which is actually one of my favorite restaurants. Chuy’s has great chips. They’re thin, perfectly fried, and always served warm. As soon as you sit down you’re served with a basket of these delicious crispies along with some salsa, which, again kill yourselves if you eat the salsa, and creamy jalapeno, which I want to take a bath in. For some reason, their nachos uses these bigger, thicker chips. They’re spread out in one layer on a big plate and topped with shredded cheddar. Then, I think they grab a four-year-old off the streets and ask the child to microwave the crap out of the plate of chips and cheese. Then, the four-year-old misunderstands and presses random buttons on the microwave, and considers it nachos.
Now that you know about my boyfriend Nachos, we can go on to other topics. I told Aaron “this is totally our new place to go for football!” and he said I say that about every place. I rank sports bars by 1. Can I get something healthy 2. Does it smell 3. Do they have nice TVs 4. Do they have good beer and 5. How far is it from our house.
1. Yes, they have a chopped and spinach salad, next time when we go on a weekday, I can eat that.
2. It smells like boobs so it’s a go.
3. I think that’s been answered. In addition to individual small flat screens at each booth, the bar is absolutely FILLED with huge TV screens everywhere you look. We might even go on New Year’s Day to watch the Crossfit marathon, since it’s on ESPN Front Row (I didn’t even know that is a channel).
4. They have their own. What what!
5. It’s only 10 minutes from our house so WIN.
Another item that looked interesting to me is the rib eye sliders plate. I will try those (which means I will get a salad, convince Aaron to get those, and try a bite) next time and get back to you guys.
Overall, a thumbs up.
As we were leaving, I saw three families with small children at their tables and almost pulled a Sweet Home Alabama (stupid movie, don’t see it) and said “You’ve a baby! In a bar!” but restrained myself. I’m classy that way.
tl; dr: Go to Twin Peaks, stare at some really hot boobs, don’t expect the world, watch personal tv, get the nachos and tall brunette beer.