What looks just like an upscale New York steak house, but serves primarily seafood and is based on the West Coast? McCormick & Schmick’s Seafood Restaurant, that’s what, set to open shortly in the spanking-new Uptown Park at Loop 610 and Post Oak Boulevard.

That deftly age-darkened, clubby paneling, those white-jacketed waiters and of course the nosebleed $25-and-up entrรฉe prices ย— well, it reminds me of New York. Folks in Seattle say their M&S outlets remind them of San Francisco; God knows Fog City can drain your wallet as fast as the Big Apple, with a half-dozen oysters there running $15 at last visit. The readers of Washington, D.C., voted their two outlets into the “100 Very Best” list of capital restaurants, but they’re all lobbyists on expense accounts. The rest of us can hope to sneak in at happy hour or just before closing time for the famous M&S $2 specials, not a bad deal for smoked salmon cakes with chipotle mayonnaise or shrimp quesadillas, even by sensible Houston standards.

Some more twists in the tale: The Houston Chronicle recently reported that McCormick & Schmick’s dining competition in Uptown Park will be Champps Americana, dishing out burgers, pizzas and karaoke. If that’s not a big enough uh-oh for you, how about the fact that M&S is owned by Avado Brands, the very same restaurant company whose proprietary brands include the nearby Canyon Cafe ย— still dishing out dismal food amid Don Ho-dramatic decor at the corner of Post Oak and Westheimer, last I heard.

Those Rumors Were True

There was trouble in paradise after all at Armando Palacios’ long-running and self-named Armando’s [2300 Westheimer, (713)521-9757]. The doors closed at the end of May, I belatedly heard. Shows how often I ate there. My hopes rose a few months back when I heard that Palacios had acquired a new partner and rehired one of the original cooks from Armando’s glory days on Shepherd, but it all came to naught.

The last time I visited the swanky River Oaks Armando’s was for a party, and the food was heart-healthy, yes, but heartbreakingly bad. Do restaurateurs ever wonder if banquet business hurts more than it helps? How feasible is it to plate 50 dinners simultaneously without irreparably dog-earing the entrรฉes? And once you’ve been force-fed a dog-eared dinner, how likely are you to go back for more? Just wondering aloud, you know.

Word has it that Palacios is skulking round his other partner Cinda Ward’s joined-at-the-hip pair of eateries, the Palace Cafรฉ and Hogg Grill downtown, where he possibly dreams of a second coming. I hope so: I have to confess to a soft spot for the original Armando’s, which opened in that funky blue-green frame house on Shepherd shortly after I moved to Houston in 1977. It’s where I first learned to appreciate hybridized Mexican food ย— it’s not an inherent liking, mind you, but one that can certainly be acquired. I still miss the licuados and those simple chicken enchiladas; after he moved to River Oaks I somehow lost my way back. Perhaps Palacios lost his, as well. Margaret L. Briggs

This article appears in Jul 8-14, 1999.