It's called the Green Mater Sandwich, the "maters" being thick slices of green tomato, fried to a jellied sweetness with a crunchy, pebbled cornmeal crust clinging just so. The disks are stacked loosely on some grill-striped Empire sourdough and layered with peppery arugula in a light lemon dressing, strands of pickled red onion and, to put it all over the top, a slathering of pimento cheese ramped up with fermented hot sauce and house-made mayonnaise.
I had come to the Market at Bonton Farms out of curiosity. The sunny, contemporary little cafe opened in November as part of the innovative Bonton Farms project to create a gathering space and market in a South Dallas food desert. I wanted to see it for myself.
I didn't expect to encounter a mind-blowing sandwich, or a salad made with the sweetest, freshest lettuce I'd eaten in Dallas so far, or a scoop of smooth, creamy honey butter pecan ice cream — the kind of small-batch confection that might end a meal at one of the city's best restaurants. I also didn't expect, after lunch was over, to wander the organic farm out back, where the generous spirit of the place is extended to customers, who can buy this precious produce right off the bush or vine.
Chefs Justin Box and Aaron Courtney got Bonton's menu of Southern standards and seasonal fare off the ground, then in January, Scott Tobey took over the kitchen. Tobey, formerly the executive chef at Origin Kitchen + Bar, Savor, Rapscallion and Stephan Pyles Catering, has a complicated job. His first priority is to teach people who have never set foot in a professional kitchen how to be a cook and start a career in food. The second is to provide the neighborhood that surrounds the cafe with a menu that is affordable, fresh and wholesome.
Creating a serious restaurant is lower on the list, but that is what is taking shape here, as Tobey makes the most of the bounty from Bonton's 40-acre farm, henhouses and apiary. Bonton isn't just growing vegetables and raising hogs. Its produce is from Row 7 seeds, a new company founded by a Michelin three-star chef to breed the most flavorful vegetables on Earth. Those pigs are Mangalitsas, a type that's been called the Kobe beef of pork. The classic hoppin' John is made with Bonton's Mangalitsa ham, the fluffy eggs in the breakfast sandwich were laid by Bonton hens, the spectacular hot sauces are concocted from the farm's array of peppers, including an unusual, heatless variation on the habanero called a habanada.
You'll get familiar with the habanada in the breakfast taco, where it's been pureed into a mild, fruity sauce served on the side. The warm flour tortilla is stuffed like a pillow with scrambled eggs, cheddar and bacon — but from the first soft, comforting bite it's taken to another level by the quality of the ingredients, particularly the smoky house-made bacon, and the careful way they are cooked.
Sweet potato hash, a plate of roughly cubed potato and medallions of smoky chorizo, is tied together with a tingly, vinegary sauce and crowned by two farm eggs. The pastry-like French toast starts with Empire brioche, but instead of giving it the usual soggy soak in raw egg, Tobey lightly coats the slices in a rich vanilla custard, and finishes the dish with house-made blackberry jam, bruleed bananas and a touch of whipped cream.
Bonton Egg Pie — "aka quiche," as the menu says — is also made with those good eggs and whatever vegetables Tobey can pick that day. I was dying to try it, but it was sold out on every visit.
Lunch dishes continue the theme of taking homey dishes up several notches. The yardbird and grits is one of the best, featuring a chicken leg and thigh from Windy Meadows, an organic free-range farm in Campbell. The bird is so deeply flavored, tender and juicy, we'd make the drive out for it alone. The Anson Mills grits, lavished with white cheddar and plenty of butter, were like icing on the cake.
Catfish is fried to a crisp, following the style of catfish joints in the neighborhood, and served with a fiery, fermented hot sauce and collards cooked in a two-day process involving aromatics and Mangalitsa ham hocks, with a finish of brown sugar and apple cider vinegar. "We just let them speak for themselves," is how Tobey describes it.
Bonton also makes a good, grass-fed beef burger — and when you order at the counter, asks if you'd like it cooked "well done or pink," and delivers it exactly right. If you're up for fries, there's a curly version with rosemary and a shred of Parmesan, but I'd go for a side of the seared shishitos instead.
The house salad, perked up with toasted pumpkin seeds, crumbled goat cheese and a light orange sorghum dressing, is reliable, though the greens never quite matched the perfection of the ones I had on that first visit. I also wish they'd toss in some of the terrific raw vegetables from the farm.
Recently Tobey brought on Aaron Palmer, a pastry chef he worked with at Wolfgang Puck Catering. In addition to the daily ice creams and other specials, Palmer has begun baking a batch of chocolate chip cookies every day, using chopped 62% Callebaut chocolate. By batch, we mean about a dozen of the warm, chewy cookies, and they, too, sell out fast.
Tobey and his novice crew are doing all of this, better than most other restaurants, with challenges the other places don't begin to face. Most vendors, including Empire, refuse to deliver to Bonton, so Tobey picks up supplies on his way in. After nearly nine months, even the health department inspector still hasn't come by. House-made pastrami on rye is finally coming to the menu, now that Kroger has donated a meat slicer.
But the restaurant is moving forward, and it's changing. Soon some of the dishes will be divided into individual elements — you'll have to order the chicken, plus grits, for example — so that the cafe can offer more items for about $3.
Soon most everything on the menu — including the spicy pimento cheese, the grilled chicken and that great Mangalitsa bacon — will also be packaged and sold in the market, which means it can be purchased with food stamps, unlike food served at the cafe.
The kitchen is expanding its catering operation to supply breakfast and lunch to The King's Academy, an elementary school near downtown. And it's aiming for a monthly dinner series, essentially a fundraiser, with a menu determined by the garden and served on the decks outdoors, making full use of a location that, even though it's just 10 minutes from downtown, feels light-years away from the stress and jangle of the city.
Early on, the cafe was losing about $35,000 a month, Bonton founder Daron Babcock told me. Now, it's beginning to break even and, if all goes as planned, it will help support other parts of the program.
That brings up the matter of prices. Compared with other Dallas restaurants that cook from whole animals, use local produce and top-quality ingredients, and practice the whole fermentation-and-curing thing, Bonton's prices are shockingly low. (When was the last time you paid $1.50 for a scoop of artisanal ice cream?)
The cafe is, first, a community project, and those prices keep it accessible. After a few visits as someone who could afford to pay more, it felt like taking advantage, and I began to leave bigger tips, and later, make a donation.
I was happy to be able to do it. The cafe and its gardens had also become a haven for me.
The Market at Bonton Farms
Rating: Three stars
Price: $ (breakfast $3 to $7, lunch $4.50 to $10.25, desserts $1.50 to $5)
Service: Though you order at a counter, take a number and find your table, this is no robotic fast-food experience. You may wait a little longer than expected, but each order is delivered directly from the kitchen with care.
Ambience: This sunny, contemporary cafe opened last year as part of the Bonton Farms project to create a gathering space and market in a South Dallas food desert. But the cafe and its gardens are also a haven for those beyond the neighborhood: Just 10 minutes from downtown, it feels light-years away from the stress and jangle of the city. Chef Scott Tobey's breakfast and lunch menu of Southern staples and seasonal fare is far more ambitious than it reads. The hoppin' John is made with Bonton's Mangalitsa ham and Sea Island red peas; eggs were laid by Bonton's hens; hot sauce is fermented Bonton peppers, and impeccable salad greens are grown on a neighboring South Dallas farm. Comfortable chairs and genuinely good vibes make you linger on quiet mornings, or enjoy the energy during the lunch rush. Afterward, take the time to walk through the farm out back — you'll be allowed to pick and purchase whatever's ripe, like a living produce aisle.
Noise: Shouty (74 decibels)
Drinks: Brewed coffee from Full City Rooster, hot and iced tea from Zakti ($2 each), hot chocolate ($1), plus bottled water and soft drinks ($1 to $1.50)
Recommended: Breakfast taco with Bonton Farms bacon, sweet potato hash, brioche French toast, Green Mater Sandwich, Yardbird and Grits, hamburger, brisket taco, honey butter pecan ice cream, chocolate chip cookie
GPS: When the weather is good, head to the communal table on the back deck overlooking the farm.
Address: 6907 Bexar St., Dallas; 972-707-0274; bontonfarms.org
Hours: Mondays through Saturdays from 7 a.m. to 3 p.m.
Reservations: Not accepted for breakfast and lunch. To reserve seats for the dinner series (the next one is Sept. 7), sign up through Bonton Farms' Facebook page or join the email list at bontonfarms.org.
Credit cards: All major
Health department score: Not inspected at publication time
Access: Restaurant is on one level.
Parking: Free parking in a few spaces at the front of the restaurant and on the street
Ratings Legend
4 stars: Extraordinary (First-rate on every level; a benchmark dining experience)
3 stars: Excellent (A destination restaurant and leader on the DFW food scene)
2 stars: Very Good (Strong concept and generally strong execution)
1 star: Good (Has merit, but limited ambition or spotty execution)
No stars: Poor (Not recommended)
Noise Levels
Below 60: Quiet. Maybe too quiet.
60-69: Easy listening. Normal conversation, with a light background buzz.
70-79: Shouty. Conversation is possible, but only with raised voices.
80-85: Loud. Can you hear me now? Probably not.
86-plus: Deafening.
Prices
Average dinner per person.
$ -- $19 and under
$$ -- $20 to $50
$$$ -- $50 to $99
$$$$ -- $100 and over
