DineOut

The Return of Sonoma
by A.T. Dieckman

"Are you in voice?" asks Neil Markert of an actress/singer who has stopped by his office. Her vocal timbre sounds a tad scratchy. "Get yourself a brandy," he suggests, "and a, hmm, Rumplemintz [a fiendishly strong brand of peppermint schnapps]. Then I'll roll you onstage." Markert, owner and CEO of Sonoma, and the actress share a laugh with Bob Heselpoth, promotions/banquets coordinator. The two men have been discussing entertainment. "I tried to put in a really talented strip show, but everybody was opposed to that," Markert says. More laughter.

Outside, a sign reads "The Montrose Tradition Continues" on the wall of the retro-chic '50s-looking schoolhouse-the building was originally a school for children with cerebral palsy. Converted into a restaurant and bar, Sonoma holds plenty of extra space. Theatre New West and The Invisible Bus (an improvisational comedy theater/workshop) also occupy the building, but there are several rooms that have remained locked and unexplored for ages. An indoor pool has to date gone unused. Just imagine the possibilities: a year-round tropical pool complete with swim-up bar and Ethel Merman show tunes accompanying synchronized swimmers, each with a color-coordinated cocktail. We can dream...

Back in the real world, Heselpoth and Markert meet in Markert's office. Heselpoth, in nightclubby attire-all black clothes and black wire-frame glasses-stands out against the file cabinets waiting to house the stacks of papers on Markert's old wood-and-metal desk, all of which makes the room look like a principal's office. In all likelihood, this room probably once was a principal's office-all the better to house Sonoma's patriarch and his paperwork.

Born in Richmond, Virginia, "many, many years ago," Markert is the embodiment of Southern Mayflower aristocracy. His family's roots in the colonies can be traced back to the mid-17th century. He attended parochial school and received degrees in the history of England from two bastions of the South, the University of Virginia and the University of Mississippi. Given this history, the lull of his voice, his wit, and the way he reclines in his chair, one might wonder why there isn't a mint julep in one hand and a straw hat in the other.

During his graduate work, Markert visited Houston with a fraternity brother and decided to stay. In Houston, he owned a number of properties, rented them out, and on occasion returned to Virginia for a visit. Seventeen years ago, he visited a friend's restaurant, Dockside, on Lake Gaston. Befitting the name, its deck was tiered down to the water so people could dock up and enter the restaurant from their boats. "I fell in love with it," Markert says. "It had a magnificent view. I told my friend, 'If you're ever interested in a partner or selling it, let me know.'" Two weeks later, the friend called Markert, already returned to Houston, and asked, "Ya wanna buy it?" Markert accepted and entered the restaurant business blind. "It was hard work, but it turned out very well."

At Dockside, he gave a certain band its first big break. The restaurant had culled a young crowd that enjoyed the live music on Fridays and Saturdays. A friend's son, a University of North Carolina student, approached Markert about a group he knew. "He said, 'Neil, we have a group that plays at our fraternity. You really need to get them up here.'" Markert declined when he learned the name of the band. "I said, 'I wouldn't hire anybody named Hootie and the Blowfish. Are you kidding?'" After a change of heart, he paid them $500 a night to play. A few years later, they went from performing on his deck on Lake Gaston to filling stadiums around the world. These days, they might be willing to play Sonoma for that same $500.

The restaurant in Virginia was a seasonal venture, leaving Markert with five to six months per year to attend to leisure, his properties, and other interests. Markert had known the Sonoma people, Jay Allen and Patrick Zone, for a long time. After it shut down last summer, Allen and Zone approached Markert to pick up where they had left off. Even without Allen or Zone in the picture, the name remains the same. One might wonder if the lingering appellation would be accompanied by a set of expectations, but Markert says he does not feel as if he is raising somebody else's baby. He knows what the place was like and what changes were necessary. Sonoma keeps its locale, but with philosophical as well as physical alterations; those modifications have changed the face of the restaurant. "It's not a new concept, but a new way of thinking. I have different processes that I go by."

"It has a warmer feel," says Heselpoth. "The biggest change is that Neil is here every night, and the customers know who he is, and he remembers them by name. That's one thing they were lacking in the first go-around¾it didn't have a..."

Markert pipes in, "If you say father figure, I'm going to knock you out."

"No," Heselpoth laughs. "It didn't have a clear leader. That's what Neil has brought to the restaurant, a face behind the name." Heselpoth, former general manager of Pacific Street, adds, "I saw his vision, that he was someone who really got it, and was someone who knew what it took to take this place to the next level."

The culinary concept remains fairly true to the original New American bent. In Markert's words, the restaurant's concept is food and service that is "presented beautifully at a fair price." In Heselpoth's words, "Fine dining with a view."

Some items remain fully intact from the original menu, like the pork shank, which Heselpoth refers to as the "Fred Flintstone plate" (the portion is big enough to bloat a logger). Portobello nachos are another item left from Sonoma's former days. Heselpoth's taste for greens has led to "Bob's Vegetables," a popular off-the-menu item originally created to please his particular palate. Heselpoth pledges that executive chef Ricky Cruz and sous chef Ray Hassan are willing to go whatever mile needed to please any guest, not just the staff.

Actually, staff aren't the only ones praising the kitchen. So are the critics. Citysearch & Zagat both give the current Sonoma regime four stars. Heselpoth postulates the restaurant draws an 80-percent gay and 20-percent straight-but-gay-friendly crowd. That crowd seems as pleased as the critics, showing up in droves, especially for that beloved of all institutions, brunch. "Sunday brunch has become phenomenal," Heselpoth says¾but without, Markert inserts, a "wild, throw-down, drunken brawl" direction. Sure, club music pumps its ravenous bass while voracious gastronomes imbibe their mimosas. But the comestibles are served with civility¾the kind of civility a Southern aristocrat is capable of serving.

Sonoma

1415 California, 713-522-7066

Mondays: The Original Monday Nite Texas Jazz Jam, 8 p.m.­midnight, hosted by Carol Sanders & Leo "The Voice" Polk, w/Straight-No-Chaser Jazz Ensemble

Fridays: Skyy Happy Hour, $3 Skyy Vodka, 5­7:30 p.m.

Saturdays: Classic Cocktail Hour collaboration with Meteor, an alternative to bar hopping for couples

Sundays: Brunch 11 a.m.- 3 p.m.

RECIPE

Scallops a la Neil

This dish hails from the Chesapeake Bay area, dating back to the 17th century. Markert's grandmother's family came to Charleston, South Carolina, in 1643. The family had homes in Charleston and the Chesapeake Bay area, both big seafood regions. The recipe passed from one generation to the next, and Markert's grandmother handed it down to him. Served at Sonoma, it is Markert's favorite dish, "because it has my name on it."

Markert is not one to cook using specific measurements, nor is his executive chef, Ricky Cruz. Most talented chefs are not. Rather than giving exacting measurements, Markert recommends that a cook use instincts. Start with small amounts first. There's always room to add more as the dish progresses.

Fettuccine Scallops
Butter or oil (vegetable or canola) for sautéing, enough to barely cover the bottom of the pan
Chopped parsley
White Sauce:
1 small container heavy cream
Garlic (powdered or preferably freshly minced)
Butter (about 1 tablespoon, room temperature)
Chardonnay
Cornstarch (optional)
Water (optional)

In a large pot, boil the fettuccine according to the package directions. Drain and reserve.
If a thick sauce is preferred, dissolve one or two tablespoons of cornstarch in 1/4 cup of water. Have this ready in advance of cooking the white sauce.
In a pan, sauté the scallops in butter or oil, flipping them over occasionally to ensure even cooking.
A quick note: The rest of the cook time here should only be a few minutes. If the scallops cook too long, they will toughen. With that said, add the butter and heavy cream to the pan. Stir until the butter has melted. Add a pinch of garlic and a splash of chardonnay. Continue to stir, allowing the combination to thicken.
If a greater thickness is preferred, stir in cornstarch mixture until thickness is achieved.
Serve the sauce atop the fettuccine and garnish with a light sprinkle of chopped parsley.