You could be forgiven for thinking that the last thing Tiffany Derry needed was another restaurant. The chef had her hands full with Roots Southern Table, the Farmers Branch venue she opened to considerable acclaim in 2021. On top of that, she was busy babying along the two locations of her fast-food joint, Roots Chicken Shak, which she knew could go national.
But Derry and her business partner, Tom Foley, hungered for a new concept. At a meeting, she mentioned how much she loved Italy. After graduating from culinary school at the Art Institute of Houston, she’d embarked on a tour of the country, eating regional specialties, wheedling recipes from cooks, and soaking up the culture. As it turned out, Foley was just as passionate. “My mother’s Italian,” he reminded her. “That’s my food too!’ ” Derry laughed when she told me later, “The next thing I know, he’s leasing space and we’re opening an Italian restaurant!”
On a spring evening, three friends and I made our way to Farmers Branch, fifteen miles northwest of Dallas. Even though I had seen photos of Radici, which is just a few doors down from Roots Southern Table, I was surprised at how deliberately restrained the design was. Beyond the floor-to-ceiling glass front was a tall room clad in black, white, and soft gray. At first I thought there was no color. Then I realized there was plenty—on the plates that were emerging from the open kitchen, where Derry presided, looking quite calm for the owner of a week-and-a-half-old restaurant.
With help from the well-informed sommelier, we chose an Aglianico from Campania, for which the logical accompaniment was Derry’s substantial focaccia, its well-burnished surface topped with confited garlic. For good measure, we added silky slices of culatello di Zibello, the famous and fabulous black-pepper-massaged cured ham from Emilia-Romagna.
After that indulgence, decisions became harder. For a first course, we considered crowd-pleasers such as meatballs in pomodoro sauce but ultimately decided on suppli al telefono, golden-brown risotto croquettes shot through with pork sausage and dusky-flavored chicken liver. When we cut them open, ribbons of smoked mozzarella came oozing out.
Having polished off the suppli, we turned to pastas. Everybody wanted to try the lasagna, especially because it was a slightly unusual tomato-free version. The broad house-made spinach noodles were layered with a filling of ground beef, pork, and veal and topped with a duvet of white béchamel. Our next choice was the broad, ruffle-edged mafaldine bolognese, the sauce of gently braised meats brightened with tidbits of carrot and finely chopped herbs. But the best was the last, shell-shaped conchiglie, with sharp scents of lemon, thyme, and pancetta rising from a trove of garlicky littleneck clams.
At so many restaurants I’ve visited recently, protein cookery is hit or miss—the beef is brilliant but the fish is a fiasco, or vice versa. At Radici, all the main courses we tried were spot-on. A whole branzino shimmered under mounds of parsley-rich salsa verde. A Kurobuta pork chop (braciola di maiale)
arrived almost sizzling, its exterior a ruddy brown from a glistening drizzle of balsamic. But the most primally satisfying entrée was the gorgeous pollo alla griglia, the flame-grilled half chicken so moist that its light and dark meats were almost indistinguishable.
When it came to dessert, Derry gave tradition a spin. I loved her coffee-soaked tiramisu, even more for its rakish cap of toasty phyllo flakes and chocolate nibbles. But it was the pistachio-enriched olive oil cake—with its pouf of whipped crème fraîche and curls of tart blood orange marmalade—that I’d order again and again.
As we left, I looked back at the kitchen but didn’t see Derry. Perhaps she had stepped over to Roots Southern Table. Or maybe she was setting up a meeting with Foley; when I called her a few days later, she revealed that a second location of Radici was already in the works. With all this going on, I have a feeling she won’t be relaxing anytime soon.
This article originally appeared in the September 2024 issue of Texas Monthly with the headline “An Italian Obsession.” Subscribe today.
