In pursuit of its main mission, teaching kids how to eat healthier foods and resist the billions spent on marketing to convince them otherwise, the nonprofit known as Recipe for Success invites Houston area chefs to teach cooking classes and, on the first Monday of each month, serve up dinner with wine to raise money. It’s an under-the-radar thing mostly; but thanks to the quality of chefs like Killen, the rightness of the cause and the intimacy of the dining room, these Chef Surprise dinners sell out often as not.

As I discovered last night, there are a lot of excellent reasons to attend dinners upstairs at what’s come to be known as Recipe House. Of course some chefs are more talkative than others while they cook, but prime among these reasons has to be spending quality time with the chefs. Killen got to talk not only about what he was doing on each course but about what’s happening at his wildly popular Killen’s Steakhouse in Pearland, as well as update diners about Killen’s Barbecue. He’s hoping to get the place, scene of a weekend “pop-up” BBQ joint with long lines, open before the end of the year.

There’s no reason to think Chef Ronnie was nodding to my New Orleans roots, but he did follow up the wonderful ahi tuna-wonton tacos pictured at the top with a bowl of roux-dark gumbo that was both traditional and quirky. Since the guy has barbecue cooking most days of the week, using smoked pork as the “seasoning meat” made total sense. Still, I don’t believe I’ve ever tasted gumbo with blackeyed peas in it before. It may or may not have been good luck, but it sure was great taste.

As the chef explained, some of the dishes he served at Recipe House were inspired by things he’s working on for Killen’s Barbecue, and others were inspired by big hits at Killen’s Steakhouse. The Gulf blue crab cake with lemon butter was one of the latter. It was good enough for even me - who swore he’d eaten enough crab cakes to last a lifetime - to respectfully reconsider. From the crunch outside to the smoothness inside, it was God’s perfect crabcake.

Normal people don’t do ”tastings” the way chefs do, inviting 15-20 suppliers to bring in their wares for sampling side-by-side. The goal, naturally, is for the chef to pick (and purchase) the whatever-it-is he or she likes best. We got a little taste of such tastings at Recipe House, as Killen cooked up New York strip from two very different beef regions - so-called mishima from Strube Ranch in Pittsburg, Texas, and a USDA Prime wet-aged steak that’s corn-fed way up in Nebraska. Not surprisingly, both were great. But yes, they were quite different from each other.

The beef portions were such that no one in the dining room required more meat. But really, what do you expect of a chef with a steakhouse and a soon-to-open barbecue restaurant? Killen served up a satisfying pork belly with much of the fat rendered out by low-and-slow time in the smoker. Equally wonderful were the Bing cherry and port wine barbecue sauce, the sauteed Swiss chard and, best of all, the cayenne-kicked creamed corn.

To paraphrase those bankcard commercials, what’s in your dessert? As the meal at Recipe House wound down, Killen pulled out the course he personally was most excited about: pumpkin bread pudding drizzled with a very dark caramel, studded with cayenne-spiced candied pecans and finally ladled with those beloved “three milks” that give tres leches its name. All in all, dinner with Ronnie Killen (including charcuterie and coffee service by Revival Market) was a big success for a great cause. And since I had seconds on that creamed corn, nobody can say I didn’t eat my vegetables.

If you were Houston restaurateurs Grant Cooper and Charles Clark and wanted to spin off a more casual, more family-friendly and lower price-point version of one of your concepts, what would you do? You probably wouldn’t let Brasserie 19 inspire Brasserie 18 1/2. And you surely wouldn’t let your foundational Ibiza somehow morph into Ibizette. You might, however, if you’re smart, rethink the original Coppa to create something you call Coppa Osteria.

The restaurant, on the ground floor of a mixed-use development in the heart of Rice Village, is larger than I was expecting. But then again, it’s clearly set up to serve a lot of food to a lot of people. Still, with Coppa chef Brandi Key overseeing every plate that goes out here too, the remarkable thing is that the food’s of the same high standard we’ve come to expect from Cooper and Clark, whether the theme is Spanish at Ibiza, French at Brasserie - or Italian at Coppa.

The kitchen is open beneath high ceilings, and there’s an entire glassed-in room in the middle of everything devoted to making the dough for pastas of many shapes and pizzas of many toppings. All the same, what comes through loud and clear, even as a midweek evening tilts toward busy night, is the sheer comfort of it all. Yes, there are candles on tables. But Coppa Osteria is clearly a place that waits for no special occasion. The people living upstairas are probably lucky enough to eat here several times a week. I know I would.

Crusty Italian bread - think ciabbata by any name - is part of the delivery system for several of Coppa Osteria’s best antipasti. Chef Key has opted for prosciutto from San Daniele over the more common ham from Parma (liking the way the sea breeze make it taste sweet, she explains) and has also engineered uncommon sweetness into her caponata. Yes, there’s eggplant and tomato involved, but there are some lovely golden currants as well. A pool of garlic puree on the side makes the dipping and dunking irresistable.

One of the strokes of genius involved in Coppa Osteria is the understanding that families and others seeking a casual night out with Italian food will want the good stuff, to be sure, but they’ll want it primarily in forms already familiar. Food lovers of any age will dig into the arancini (meaning “little oranges”), deep-fried risotto balls held together by molten cheese, and who doesn’t love a terrific pizza? Several varieties of pie aim to please the slightly adventurous, but the deliciousness of the “simple” margherita speaks loudest about the care going into preparation.

Happily, pastas make up one of the largest and most satisfying categories on the Coppa Osteria menu, whether you tend to eat them as a midway course the way they do in Italy or, American-style, as your entire meal. The shapes and sizes roll over the tough like poetry written by Dante: rigatoni, linguine, ravioli, capellini, fusille… These pasta shells are known as conchiglie (yes, as in conch shells) and show up with one of the meatiest and most lovingly prepared bologneses you’re likely to get anywhere, topped with a spoonful of whipped ricotta.

There are several noteworthy desserts at the new Coppa Osteria, and in general they tend toward the Italian model of “not too sweet.” The lemon pudding cake pictured at the very top is a home run, outfitted with macerated strawberries and a surprising touch of fresh basil. It kind of mimics tomato bruschetta, in other words. And chocolate lovers should rally around the hazelnut chocolate cake, complete with a pleasing hazelnut gelato and an always-welcome cookie. Cooper and Clark have been serving diners in Houston for many years now. Along with their extremely talented and passionate Coppa chef, they know how to cook what we like.

When the new braised beef ravioli with stout BBQ and shaved Parmesan takes its place on your table with the still-new deviled eggs and, of course, the cheesesteak eggrolls, it’s a bit like realizing you’re not in Kansas anymore. Except that it’s Sullivan’s, not Kansas, the steakhouse created by the Del Frisco’s Restaurant Group and voted (by me, until now) least likely to do anything wild and crazy with its menu offerings.

And no, I can’t really say anything wild and crazy IS going on at Sullivan’s - but I’m happy with what I saw last night. And tasted. And drank. The new menu items created by Chef Teli are the first I remember in a long time, and (even better) they reflect the food focus that came in when the “club focus” went out with the closing of Ringside. There are still great cocktails, including the new ones pictured above; but the former throbbing club area is now three small private dining rooms. Or one large one.

There are two great new salads on the Sullivan’s dinner menu, of which this is obviously one. This one carries the less-than-inspiring name Market Fresh Greens. What’s impressive is that it actually tastes that way, with plenty of snap and crunch and sweetness, the latter supplied mostly by kernels of fresh white corn. The other new salad is a spin on insalata Caprese, better than some I’ve tasted on the isle of Capri itself.

One of the best new entrees, even to a non-salmon eater like me, is the - drumroll, please - salmon. The fish hails from the Bay of Fundy off the shores of Nova Scotia. It’s simply broiled, never a bad thing to do with super-fresh fish, and served with chilled cucumber-dill orzo. If you think Chef Teli sounds Greek and the orzo sounds like tzatziki, you’d be correct.

Joining the salmon in the seafood section, there are these impressive new bacon-wrapped sea scallops. Sure, chefs these days are putting bacon almost anywhere, including a lot of places where it doesn’t belong, but scallops need a little flavor boost if you ask me. That these get from the bacon, and even more from the lovely peach barbecue sauce.

In modern steakhouses, and not just because I’m constantly in touch with my cheap side, I love complete taste experiences - not just the traditional slab of meat with a list of sides you can order for $12 each. My favorite of the new entrees at Sullivan’s is exactly what I love: some incredible pepper-crusted pork, with “chorizo hash.” I’m not sure what all is in the hash, but I know I didn’t leave any on the plate.

As though to demonstrate that beef doesn’t always have to be BEEF!!!, here’s a lighter rendition with filet mignon and shrimp over garlic mashed potatoes. See, complete flavors. There’s a red-wine bordelaise getting deliciouly friendly with a beurre blanc underneath all that already-good goodness. I like it when Chef Teli gets wild and crazy in the kitchen.

Funny thing: how much a person can eat (or at least taste) and still get excited about dessert. Last night, that meant the amazing bananas Foster bread pudding that’s been around Sullivan’s a while - and that I love to make at home, though not as well - plus this new berry crumble streusel kind of thing. It is, as you can see, a bit like a cobbler, except with the crumble where the pie crust would be. With butterscotch ice cream, it is, as they say, a consummation to be devoutly wished.

I don’t usually start anything with dessert - not a meal, not a story, not anything. But I might consider doing so next time I visit weeks-old Boiler House Texas Grill & Wine Garden at the Pearl Brewery in San Antonio. With the bizarre notion of grilling as many things on the menu as possible, executive chef James Moore not only produces drop-dead savories but some incredible sweets like grilled pineapple pound cake with brandied cherries and brown sugar creme brulee ice cream, plus (in the foreground) Texas pear crumble with goats milk ice cream and almond brittle. Dessert piping hot from the grill suddenly makes all kinds of good sense.

This sort of food might seem a tad familiar, especially if you’re somewhere like Houston, Austin or San Antonio that has a Max’s Wine Dive, or at least one or more of the same company’s wine-centric Tasting Rooms. In terms of food, the aesthetic may spill over a bit from Max’s, where largish portions of familiar downhome dishes invariably get a twist from a talented chef. James Moore is such a chef, leaving his native San Antonio for training in many great food places, especially California both north and south, and then opting to come home.

As a contemporary restaurant, Boiler House understands that folks like to share - or at least anybody worth going out to dinner with likes to share. Thus the Small Plates section of the menu is dominated by foods that people can reach across the table and grab. Two of the better items are the chorizo besitos (“little kisses”) with lemon chive aioli and chimichurri and the quail poppers (pictured above). These show up at the party with bacon, jalapeno and a nifty version of Green Goddess dressing.

If you’re going to grill as many items as possible, it make sense to put a whole bunch of things on skewers. So it goes with this representative of the Large Plates, which are good for sharing too. The highlight here, beyond the grilled shrimp, is the serrano avocado relish. Other terrific entrees at Boiler House include the dayboat scallop kebabs with melted Yukon potatoes and romesco sauce, as well as the balsamic lamb shank with orange-pistachio gremolata. Next time you’re in San Antonio, head for the Pearl Brewery. You can drive, take a water taxi from your downtown hotel or just walk along the river past many lovely things like the San Antonio Museum of Art. You’ll be happy they stopped brewing Pearl Beer here, thus making room for Boiler House and so many other exciting restaurants.

Cesar (or Cesare, originally) Cardini might not have been happy: seeing his once-new, now-classic, always-simple salad run off the road in directions he could never have foreseen. But as a judge of the event, I think that’s half the fun of Houston’s annual Caesar Salad Competition, which took place under the auspices of My Table magazine last night at the Four Seasons Hotel. Nearly 20 local chefs competed, four preparing “Classic” salads in a new Iron Chef format in front of the audience, the rest making “Creative” Caesars anyplace and probably any way they chose.

To toss Dickens like a Caesar, it was the best of salads and it was the worst of salads. But it was all for a super cause, so the Food and Beverage Managers Association of Houston would have money for scholarships and the like. That’s how the next generation of F&B wonders will be educated. That and maybe by tasting the Caesar “salad” pictured above, with whatever greens there are encased in an empanada and the whole thing covered in a salsa criolla. Hint: this was hardly the weirdest Caesar salad on display last night.

For instance, how about this braised pork belly on anchovy bread pudding, with cassis and fried Swiss chard? Other quirky spins on whatever Cardini used to be thinking included a “Caesar popcycle” (served frozen but resembling cheesecake more than any popcycle I’ve ever tasted) and a vegan version sporting kale where the Romaine should have been, with pinenuts, cashews and a quinoa crouton. Obviously, somebody was deprived of textures as a child.

While there was some debate about whether the “macaroonization” of everything belonged to 2011 or 2010, that didn’t deter this Caesar salad - which took the form of Caesar panna cotta with a granita of Romaine and, top and center, a Parmesan macaroon. Let’s just say this one fit right in with the truffled potato donut with Caesar glaze, baby Romaine and garlic foam.

Since winning or losing is a matter of adding up numbers, the salad above didn’t win. But we judges really loved it anyway. It was a chicken Caesar sausage (great idea!) on a challah bun. I was not all that surprised, once we left our sequested judging room, to discover that this one was made by chef Dax McAnear, now cooking at Triniti until Ryan Hildebrand’s new place in the old Ruggles gets off the ground. Dax is, gratefully, one of those chefs who never forgets to make stuff actually taste good.

At evening’s end, this salad from Inn at the Ballpark took home two awards: both the People’s Choice and Best Table Decoration. The entry was described as Hawaiian: roasted pork with caramelized pineapple and taro chips, plus a pineapple-sweet “island dressing.” Top honors for Classic went, as they often have over the years, to chef John Sheely of Mockingbird Bistro. And the winner in Creative was chef Alex Padilla of Ninfa’s on Navigation, for his extra-good Caesar BLT in a bacon-jalapeno tuile. It’s pictured at the very top. Yes, I did go back for seconds on this one later, and I suspect Cesar Cardini would have too!

I am happy to have my very own Brio Tuscan Grille “Inside the Loop” in Houston, serving River Oaks far better than it ever did or could from The Woodlands up north or from City Centre out west. Still, I’m sorry that Pesce had to go away to make room, right next to my old favorite Borders, which, of course, also went away. I had my very first meeting with Pesce founders Damian Mandola and Johnny Carrabba here, figuring out over dinner if we could work together on what turned out to be three seasons of their PBS cooking series. I was so impressed and charmed that night by their Texas-Italian bantering-cousin schtick. Little did I know that, three years later, I’d be writing that schtick for them!

I don’t remember the visuals of Pesce well enough to know for sure what’s new and what’s old, except I can tell you that (compared to Pesce under Damian and Johnny and, yes, even later under Tilman Fertitta), this is Italian cuisine filtered entirely through an American sensibility. The most important way you confirm this on the menu is that virtually everything is or can be an entree. Salad - in Italy just a palate cleanser - is an entree here, with chicken, beef or shrimp. Pasta - in Italy a modest course that’s part of every meal - is also an entree here, with chicken, beef or shrimp. It’s the Italian notion of abbondanza, carried to ridiculous (that is to say, all-American) extremes.

And speaking of abbondanza, who ever heard of two feet of carpaccio - though again, the alleged idea is “to share.” There is absolutely nothing wrong with this version of the paper-thin, uncooked beef dish made famous at Harry’s Bar in Venice. If you’re eating with fewer than six people, though, the quantity might be a bit much, whatever you think of the quality. Who knows, maybe it’s supposed to be ready for its closeup as an entree, just like everything else at Brio. For the record, it’s really good.

Even better than the carpaccio, though it also runs on excess, is this starter of spicy shrimp and eggplant. The shrimp find themselves pan-seared and blanketed with a black pepper cream sauce, which also has a habit of soaking into the Romano-crusted eggplant directly below. The only other starters I’d really like to try are the many, many versions of bruschetta and flatbread. Then again, I’m the kind of guy who thinks 4,000 years of troubled European history are justified by the existence of pizza.

At entree time… well, I sampled two. For color and a somewhat lighter touch, go with the grilled swordfish skewers pictured at the very top. It’s Essence of Mediterranean World, the kind of fresh tomato-olive-herb dish I’ve enjoyed on ships sailing between Italy and Sicily via the Straits of Messina. But I also couldn’t resist what the menu offers (with quotes, no less) as Chicken “Under the Brick,” an oh-so-literal translation of classic Italian pollo al mattone.

Not surprisingly after all that’s gone before, dessert at the new Brio Tuscan Grille in River Oaks isn’t a matter of one sweet item - but of five. I couldn’t resist the finale called the dolcino sampler, featuring five “little sweets” that aren’t all that little. To be precise: there’s key lime pie, spicy carrot cake, tiramusu, caramel chocolate cake and New York cheesecake (“It’s really from New York,” my server explains encouragingly). Brio, part of a restaurant group that includes Bravo in other cities, is headquartered in Ohio. Based on the serving sizes at the new place in River Oaks, they’ll surely be moving their corporate offices to Texas any minute now.

The four branches of Tilman Fertitta’s military empire - known around the corporate offices as Dining, Hospitality, Entertainment and Gaming - arrayed themselves forth in Houston last night, with plenty of giveaways, promotional materials, glittery costumes, food and drink. In fact, in the days of the former Soviet Union, we might have called this event Tilman’s May Day parade.

At one level, Landry’s wanted to show off its seemingly endless array of popular restaurant brands, many far better known in more cities than the original “Landry’s” seafood concept resurrected from actual people named Landry in southwest Louisiana. Like Morton’s Steakhouse. Like McCormick and Schmick. Like Oceanaire. For people who don’t read the business news every day, there were even a couple surprises, like these two kitchen guys dishing up “Cajun shrimp” with chunks of buttery garlic bread from Bubba Gump Shrimp Co. When did that become another Landry’s chain?

One of the evening’s major pushes was Hospitality, a.k.a. hotels. The sales pitch began with where we were standing, inside the Inn at the Ballpark - though several displays pointed to its soon-to-be new “flag,” Westin. Hotel sales staffers were quick to emphasize that neither the management nor the ownership was changing, only the name and the reservation system. Other focuses included Landry’s popular hotels on the Kemah Boardwalk and on the Gulf in Galveston - yes, the ever-pampering San Luis.

While Hospitality, Entertainment (including the new Pleasure Pier in Galveston) and Gaming (four Golden Nuggets when Biloxi, Miss., launches), the main restaurant showcase was across the street from the Inn/Westin at the first Vic & Anthony’s Steakhouse. And that meant tastings like this creamy seafood ravioli from Grotto and La Griglia, two Houston-born Italian concepts Fertitta bought from local restaurant legend Tony Vallone, who knew a chance to concentrate on his tony’s money machine when he saw one.

And this being Texas, there had to be one or more things reflecting, celebrating and mostly toasting with margaritas our state’s Mexican heritage. That pointed to Cadillac Bar, which served these ultra-crispy, ultra-tasty ahi tuna tacos alongside a couple of meaty items from Saltgrass Steakhouse. It was interesting to see such different concerts sharing a table, though sometimes it was probably just a traffic-flow marriage of convenience.

As the evening wore on, the crowd of meeting planners, corporate events decision makers, pharmaceutical reps and anybody else who can deliver bigger-than-average bucks to Landry’s products grew louder, fuller and drunker, as they would. More guys started getting their pictures taken with alleged Vegas chorus girls, or maybe only with that silly shrimp mascot from Bubba Gump’s. And judging by the dozens upon dozens of lovely young professional women wearing Little Black Dresses, we should all be expecting followup sales calls and emails any moment now.

Of all the great performances that pass through downtown Houston’s Hobby Center for the Performing Arts, one of the greatest, happily, isn’t going anywhere. So whether you’re attending a one-night-only show or one of the blockbusters like Disney’s The Lion King, thanks to the Cordua family, the best pre-theater meal you can imagine definitely has not left the building.

You know you’re in the world of pater familias Michael Cordua and his talented chef-son David when this platter of “chips and salsa” turns up, the chips made from plantain instead of corn and the “salsas” ranging across the tropical universe. With roots in Nicaragua - and restaurants like Churrascos, Americas and the casual Amazon Grille to prove it - the Corduas always take the broadest, most delicious views of our part of the world. “The most yummy,” Michael Cordua would surely note by way of correction.

Sometimes, in creative ways, Artista’s points of reference go far beyond Latin America. In France, a tart Tatin is a dessert made with sliced apples. And that is the basic construction for this tomato tart Tatin made with confit tomato with creamy burrata cheese atop a crust of parmesan and rosemary. There’s even some tossed mesclun greens on the side, as though to help explain why the dish is listed as a salad.

Shopping for a format closer to home in Texas, one of the best ways to start a meal at Artista is this plate of ahi tuna taquitos. With the now-familiar sushi-grade fish plus crabmeat, mango, avocado and tobiko caviar, all on a crispy rice-paper shell, these tacos are a reminder that one of the best ways to have dinner here and make it to your seats on time is ordering a bunch of starters. Clearly, the Corduas are just fine if you opt for the small-plate approach.

The quiz question: when is a pasta dish not likely to feel heavy? Answer: when it shows up naked. Okay, so that’s a bit of wordplay, since the Italians call pastas like these gnudi (pronounced “nudi” and understandable exactly as it sounds). Except these gnudi spoons aren’t really naked, a kind of super-light ravioli stuffed with spinach and ricotta and delicately sauced with porcini mushroom cream.

Carnivores rejoice, since the family that gave Texas its first Churrascos restaurant a long time ago has no particular vegetarian thing going on. The best proof of this is this dramatic appetizer portion of smoked lamb lollichops. Starting with what my youngest daughter used to crave as “lamb on a stick,” this dish wanders all the way to India - picking up a spicy vindaloo glaze and creamy, cooling raita along the highway. The “fries” you get with that are yucca, a powerful Cordua touch borrowed from the Americas.

If you’re still interested in an actual entree at Artista (or like me, kind of on the fence), one of the best ways to talk yourself into ordering one is this roasted striped bass. The fish is wild-caught, meaning it’s both mild and flavorful at the same time, and outfitted with warm leeks in a vinaigrette. What you see mostly when it arrives, though, is the haystack of fried potatoes on top. I’ll look for a needle in that haystack anytime.

By the time our striped bass arrived with a side - in our case, this terrific wild mushroom bread pudding - it was almost time for the show to start. Dessert would have to wait for intermission, which is a pleasure you wouldn’t dare embrace with a restaurant blocks away in downtown Houston. Still, I have to emphasize that Artista is open for lunch during the week and for dinner even when there’s absolutely nothing playing at the Hobby Center. If you want neither rush nor crush, you should let the dazzling entertainment of Michael and David Cordua be your evening’s big show.