Twisted Root in Fairview is Extra Twisted
I adore a good burger, but I don’t allow myself to eat them all that often. Like quesadillas and steak, a burger is reserved for special times — like right before I’m about to swear to eat better. But last Sunday night we found ourselves at The Shops at Fairview, which is located in the NEVERNORTH area of Dallas that rarely sees a foodbitch. We were well past Plano at the iPic theater in the name of The Hunger Games, and we left pretty hungry ourselves.
That’s when it got weird. The Shops at Fairview is like a huge, clean, sound stage. Inside it are outposts of lots of eateries we have down south, but they’re all bizarro versions. Patrizio’s, La Duni, Gloria’s, etc.
I’d never been to a Twisted Root before. This is embarrassing, sure, but remember what I said up top: I don’t eat burgers very often. I knew before going in that this wouldn’t be well-received by original Twisted Root fans, but I felt like a burger so I decided to give it a shot.
This place felt crazy. I read like a cruise ship covered in tzotchke vomit. The soundtrack was schizophrenic; bouncing from Dixie Chicks to Elvis to Johnny Cash and all over the musical map.
The ordering process was disorienting. There were menus and specials and drawings and jokes taped all over the walls and it stressed me out big time. All the staff looked under 17. It was just trying SO hard to be something it wasn’t.
The burgers were good. Messy as hell, but good. The fries were a bit over salted, even for this salt-lover. I ordered an overly complicated Texas-style burger. In hindsight, a simpler burger would have made things easier. But I liked the homemade accompaniments like peppercorn ranch, chipotle ketchup and mustard. The huge pickle jar station threw me for a loop, as I accidentally stocked up on a Kool-Aid-marinated variety. PUKE.
All in all, I realized multiple times how much I wished I was in Deep Ellum, where the Twisted Root was probably full of folks at 8:45, rather than being closed up around us and the other couple of customers there. As we walked out into the breezeless, sound stagey air, past people who didn’t seem to notice, I whispered, “Let’s get the fuck out of Fairview.” And we did.