This week, we're not going to cook anything. You did enough of that during the holidays. Take a break and contemplate going out to a restaurant.

Before you make your pick, though, read this article through to the end.

Columns By J. Scott Wilson Diary Of A Fat Man Ask The Cook Short Orders The Weird Chronicles

There's a little Italian place in my neighborhood. It's not the best part of town. The auto parts stores and liquor stores far outnumber the kitchen shops and gourmet grocers. At night, the salsa music and the rap beats from passing cars fight for dominance. Police sirens are a nightly occurrence, as one or the other of our area denizens loses their fragile grip on the social contract.

The restaurant, George's, sits at the end of an aging strip center, sharing it with a thrift store that never seems to be open and a dry cleaner's that last took in clothes when Donna Summer topped the charts. The windows are framed with blue and white checked curtains, and colorful painted slogans make a valiant attempt to brighten up the facade.

Step inside and the first thing you see is the front counter, with the sort of cheap Casio cash register usually reserved for flea markets and bake sales. Unless he's in the kitchen or waiting tables, George, all five-plus wizened feet of him, will be behind the register, scrutinizing receipts and doing the bookkeeping.

You'd better look quickly, though, for the minute he sees you, George's face breaks into the sort of smile usually reserved for long-lost friends and ushers you to a table. The chairs seem to have come from a dozen or so sources, and the tables are covered with spotless red oilcloth. The walls are covered in stills from old movies, and autographed pictures collected by George in his youth, when he ran a thriving restaurant in Philadelphia.

Fortune being a fickle mistress, however, the Philly days are behind him, and George holds sway on this little corner. He's not bitter about it. It seems that as long as he's got a kitchen to create in, George is in his proper place on the planet.

Peruse the menu, with the slightly cracked laminate at times making some dishes a bit hard to read, and make your selection. This is what I refer to as a "dartboard" restaurant: you could throw a dart at the menu and whatever it hit would be a good meal.

Tonight, we'll have the Chicken Giovanni. It's not a dish I'm familiar with, but that's one of my favorite things to do when dining out: go adventuring! Besides, I trust George.

To start, we'll have the feta cheese with olives. Never has such a simple appetizer spoken such volumes! The mix of the smooth cheese and tangy Kalamata olives, especially smeared on top-notch wedges of garlic bread, is almost more than the palate can stand. Here is a flavor sublime, which by its very simplicity amazes. Sorry, there's no steaming vats of spinach-artichoke dip or tarted-up bruschetta on the menu. You'll simply have to cope.

Before the entreé, we'll have a bowl of minestrone, Italian soul food. The chicken broth here has never seen the inside of a freezer, and the pasta came in the door as bags of flour. One is tempted to recheck the menu and see if it comes in one-gallon sizes.

Soon enough, though, the main dish arrives, and what a dish it is! Sliced button mushrooms, artichoke hearts and strips of red and green bell peppers surround perfectly cooked medallions of chicken breast. The white wine sauce has layers of flavor that make you want eat one molecule at a time ... to savor the dish until such time as George has to call the authorities to escort you out. There are notes of basil here, hints of oregano and sweet thyme and who-knows-what-else. Here, in this nondescript little storefront, we've discovered Italian food that people in the tonier parts of town would cheerfully spend a C-note per table to procure. It's costing us $6.95, soup included.

At a request, provided it's still daylight, we'll go out back and I'll show you the secret ... the evidence that will prove to you that we've found a new favorite restaurant.

The back lot is just that: a parking lot. It hasn't been used as such in years, but the asphalt is still remarkably intact.

Outside George's back door, built from hundreds of cinderblocks and garden timbers that must have taken weeks of backbreaking labor to haul and put together, is George's garden. There are herbs in profusion, succulent red tomatoes promising flavor unobtainable from trucked-in produce, green bell peppers the size of my fist, and a bounty of other produce from asparagus to zucchini.

The rational part of your mind knows that this garden can't possibly produce EVERY bit of vegetable matter George uses, and you'd likely be right. But the fact that this oasis exists at all is testament to a commitment to start-to-finish quality that speaks to the sort of determination to produce good food that becomes almost a force of Nature. You could no more stop George from cooking than you could shout at a hurricane and make it stop.

Sure, George could go to work for one of the big boys. He could probably even be the head chef in no time.

But the name on the door wouldn't be "George's." And his passion for great food would have to shine through someone else's lens.

Now, George's is here in my hometown of Houston. But there are places just like it in every city, places where someone with a true dedication to their craft is doing business.

So, before you go out tonight, look at the small-print restaurants in the Yellow Pages. Check some of the online restaurant review sites in your city. Talk to some folks who have lived around your area for a while. Go to a place that doesn't have a dozen locations within driving distance.

You just might find George ... or one of his brothers or sisters in spirit.

Join me here every Friday for explorations of the nuts and bolts of cooking, food oddities and other items of general culinary interest. Drop me a line anytime!

Previous Stories:

• Dec. 20, 2004: Pigging Out For The Holidays
• Dec. 3, 2004: Quick Eats For Holiday Dinners
• Nov. 18, 2004: Waiting For The Bird
• Nov. 12, 2004: The Tale Of The (Fried) Turkey
• Nov. 5, 2004: Cleaning Out The Fridge
• Oct. 29, 2004: Make Simple, Fun Halloween Treats
• Oct. 15, 2004: Oniony Goodness
• Oct. 8, 2004: Edible Discoveries
• Oct. 1, 2004: Ice Cream Travelogue
• Sep. 24, 2004: Geaux Fish