THAT PLACE is still there?

THE FORGOTTEN, OVERLOOKED AND TAKEN-FOR-GRANTED BUSINESSES THAT WE WOULD MISS TERRIBLY IF THEY DISAPPEARED

Story by Emily Toman // Photos by Kim Leeson

The latest development here,rumors of a new restaurant there,and closures every other week — such is the typical fodder for business-news talk. But what about those oft-forgotten institutions — the ones that do not beckon with novelty or glamour but, rather, persist quietly, like a patient grandparent, waiting for us to visit? When we do, we are reminded why they endure: because they are genuine, loyal, sturdy and loved. They are a constant in a perpetually changing environment. Periodically, pay a visit to our neighborhood’s oldies. It will make you feel warm and a tad nostalgic. (Oh, and you should probably visit your grandparents, too.)

A Tex-Mex tradition on the move

WHEN TUPINAMBA SETTLED INTO the old Crystal’s Pizza space on Inwood just north of Forest in 1996, the shopping center bore no resemblance to the bustling neighborhood development that exists today.

“There was nothing out here,” owner Eddie Dominguez says. “But, from day one, we had great business.”

Over 67 years, the family-owned Tex-Mex restaurant has survived four location changes; another one is coming soon. In December, Tupinamba will occupy the southwest corner of Walnut Hill and Central Expressway directly across from Preston Hollow Village, which is one of the most high-profile intersections in Dallas.

The move will usher in a new era for the old-fashioned establishment, which has built its reputation on the basics — tacos, enchiladas, and rice and beans — amid the wave of trendy dining options flooding our neighborhood.

“It’s always been about food and service,” Dominguez says. “People will come to you if you have those things.”

The first Tupinamba opened in 1947 in Oak Cliff and operated there for 10 years before moving to various locations around Preston Hollow and North Dallas. Its previous homes include Lovers Lane; Northwest Highway across from Bachman Lake during the area’s 1960s economic boom (the building later housed the first Taco Cabana in Dallas); and on Midway at LBJ. Dominguez, who graduated from Thomas Jefferson High School, says he tried to stay in the neighborhood with each move.

Tupinamba’s origin, as Dominguez tells it, is an immigrant success story full of drama, love and betrayal. During the Mexican Revolution, his father, Papa Froylan Dominguez, known here as “Sonny,” fled the country at just 9 years old. The notorious Francisco “Pancho” Villa was recruiting an army, causing many families to separate. Sonny spent his early life working odd jobs in Texas and its border states until he landed a gig as a dishwasher at Dallas’ original El Fenix.

“That’s the way he learned the kitchen,” Dominguez says. “The cook took him under his wing.”

During that time, Sonny fell for Consuelo, a waitress working at another pioneering TexMex restaurant, El Chico. They married and together began building their business, open- ing The Acapulco right across the street from El Fenix — to much success. So much so that Sonny began to hear rumors that his business partner was plotting to murder him in an attempt to keep the restaurant’s profits to himself. The couple didn’t stick around to find out what would happen next. They immediately left The Acapulco and launched Tupinamba.

The restaurant became known for its fried Tupy tacos, which still are the biggest seller and appear to hold their own against new taco crazes that have hit the area over the past several years.

Dominguez doesn’t try to replicate the popular items of his neighbors Rusty Taco or Torchy’s, but he still pays attention to trends. He recently added to the menu his version of the puffy taco made famous in San Antonio.

Dominguez expects Tupinamba’s new location to attract a more diverse crowd, but he doesn’t underestimate the value of his regulars.

“I have customers who I used to put in high chairs,” he says. “You create relationships. This is a family that you have.”

Did you know?

“Tupinamba” is the name of an allegedly cannibalistic South American Indian tribe that inhabited Brazil during the 16th century.

Eddie Dominguez’s mother, Consuelo, first encountered the word on a restaurant in Mexico City, liked it, and decided it would become the name of the family business.

Business in the front, party in the back

MOST PEOPLE KNOW DUNSTON’S STEAKHOUSE from behind.

Pull around to the back of the Lovers Lane restaurant on a typical Monday night, and you’ll see a nondescript entrance leading to a dark hallway. At the end, past the “employees only” kitchen, a door opens to a back-room bar full of oldDallas elites — most of whom would not want their names in this article.

“In the early ’80s, this was the gathering place for men from the Brook Hollow and the Dallas Country Clubs,” says Chad Dunston, who operates the restaurant with his wife, Anna.

The nostalgic ritual stuck. And Dunston’s old-school steakhouse tradition remains relevant 45 years later in today’s neighborhood, even as many young families are trying to avoid fatty, over-processed meals.

“The perception is that people don’t think Dunston’s is healthy,” Anna says, noting that everything is homemade without additives or giant hunks of butter plopped into every dish. The salad bar is fundamental to the operation, and over the years, the menu has been updated to include fish options, vegetable skewers and healthier sides such as grilled Brussels sprouts. There’s even a nutritionist on staff.

However, make no mistake: the Mesquite-grilled steak is the staple at Dunston’s.

Chad’s father, Gene Dunston, opened the first iteration of the restaurant on Harry Hines in 1955. It was known then as

The Wheel-in Drive-in, but when Gene turned his focus to the dine-in concept, he renamed it Dunston’s Steakhouse. The Lovers Lane location opened in 1969, followed by six other branches that have since come and gone (including the spot at Forest and Marsh now home to Cindi’s NY Deli).

Dunston’s and Kirby’s reigned as the two main steakhouses in Dallas until the early to mid-‘90s, when upscale concepts such as Del Frisco’s entered the scene. Dunston’s steaks are cheap by comparison. But even in a neighborhood full of highend clientele, the restaurant has thrived on its regular customers.

“You go to the high-end steakhouse once a month,” Chad says. “You come here once a week.”

When Chad and Anne took over the Lovers Lane restaurant from Gene, who is now 83 and still operates the Harry Hines location himself, the regulars reacted with a resounding request: “Don’t change anything.”

Most of the updates have been subtle but necessary to attract younger patrons. The restaurant started carrying craft beers, for example, and Anna and Chad have worked hard to improve the wine list, catering to connoisseurs who wouldn’t mind having a fancy bottle of wine with their low-cost steak.

And they don’t have to try too hard to achieve the oldschool, kitschy atmosphere that many new restaurants attempt to replicate. Dunston’s is the real thing.

“By default, we’re sitting on mid-century modern chairs from the ’50s,” Anna says. “This is an easy place for us to be.”

Did you know?

Via a lottery system, Dunston’s Steakhouse was the first restaurant in Dallas to receive a liquor license in 1971.