There is no legitimate definition for bistro on Urban Dictionary, and I have to admit I rate my own cognition, in general, as being reliable on words with foreign influence, so I’m just going to say that a bistro is a small eatery with an open grill, ideally with tables on the street under umbrellas, where the food is better than in your average lunch room and cheaper than a dinnerhouse, usually small, usually with cafe curtains and the grill area running along the side. In this regard, Lili’s is as close to a true bistro as I have seen in the city. And it’s on Magnolia. 

I stopped by yesterday while on a lunch trip with my Eccentric Friend, who called up and asked me if I wanted to go to Sprial Diner. Well, I’d just as soon go out to lunch as the next gal, so I packed myself up and got in the car. But since were were going to Magnolia, and since I’d already reviewed Spiral Diner (in DFW Child last year) I was agitating for something else.

“Can’t we go to Palermo’s?”

“Maybe.” She still driving to Spiral Diner.

“How about Hot Damn tamales?”

“Maybe.” Still driving to Spiral Diner.

“How about Benitos?

“Do they serve lunch?” Still driving to Spiral diner. “How about Paris Coffee Shop?”

“Do I look like I’m 80 years old?”

“Okay, then let’s go to Spiral Diner then.”  But when we got there it was CLOSED. “Guess we’ll have to go to Lili’s,” said Eccentric Friend. Lili’s is next door to Spiral Diner, by propitious chance. 

We entered Lili’s to the sound of light jazz and the clinking of silverware from behind a screen. It is dark in there, with ten interior tables and a couple on the street. We were met inside the door by the owner.

“She’s writing a restaurant review of you,” my Eccentric Friend told him.

“Aren’t you supposed to keep that a secret?” he asked. 

“I can’t control her,” I confided. And we went to sit down. 

The menu is unique and creative, and shows that someone actually designed this food for the house, it wasn’t copied out of some “Texas Haute People Food” guide. There are clear influences from Europe here. On the tables, kosher salt and pepper are offered in small serving dishes with a spoon — a nice touch. The Gorgonzola Fries with salt and a lot of pepper are American with an Italian twist. I had the Muffelleta sandwich (ham, provolone and olives on focaccia bread) considered a New Orleans specialty, and it was quite good and also huge, so that I brought home more than half to share with my husband. Eccentric Friend had Vance’s Classic Chicken Salad, which she ate with relish. 

During the meal E.F. showed me her new cookbook — You Are What You Eat by Dr. Gillian — carefully marked up with notes on how to carry out the project of revolutionizing her diet. This must be why we were supposed to go to Spiral Diner. I opened the book to a quiz of food sins such as “do you drink coffee?” and “do you eat meat or white bread?” Overall, according to this book, if you eat anything that wasn’t taken whole off the plant from which it grew, you’re in trouble. Despite being what I think of as an abstemenious eater, I had apparently racked up about 30 mortal food sins this week. And there were five or six more sitting on my plate.

“I’m starting this new diet on Thursday.” she told me.

“I know a personal trainer and dietician you can work with,” I suggested. Somehow, I know that the battle between Eccentric Friend and her food choices was going to be drawn out, not won or lost this week. I took a picture of the salt and peper jars next to the book with my digital camera, but it didn’t come out well. And in addition, the irony was just too much.

Now, the shadows were slanting rather long over the cafe curtains –  we were the last lunchers there at about 3:30 in the afternoon — and I pointed out to Eccentric Friend that is was time to go. She was planning on taking her teenaged son to Holy Hour as a disciplinary action against him for picking on his younger brother. “You’re going to miss it,” I told her. “You said it starts at 4.”

“I’ll never make it in time!” she exclaimed. “What will I do?”

“Go there for 45 minutes and tell him he’s lucky you were enjoying a late lunch.” I replied, and we got the check and  bustled ourselves out the door, the ‘go’ box with the extra muffeletta under my arm. The owner was sitting at at streetside table by the front door.  ”Hey, look, there he is, complete in chef’s jacket, get his picture,” she urged me. I have always suffered as a journalist because I’m not aggressive enough.

Restauranteur Vance Martin is both owner and Chef at Lili's.

“All right, what have I got to lose?” I agreed. I introduced myself and asked for a shot. His name isVance Martin, and when I gave my name, he instantly recognized the Italian cognome, or surname  We shook hands, it turned out he lives in my neighborhood. He gave us a few insights about doing business on Magnolia in particular and in the Near Southside in general.  E.C. and I then took off, get back in the car for our return to our region of Fort Worth — call it Nearer Suburbia. 

I told her thanks. ”You are a real lightning rod,” I said, “we’ve gotta do that again some time. ” But I wasn’t sure she heard me. She was off in another direction recounting a tale of her a psycho friend from childhood who keeps calling her at all hours and leaving extremely long and crazy phone messages … the story is so weird you really should hear it … but not today. She dropped me off at my door and I reflected that I was going to have a quality blog post almost entirely thanks to her. Exegesis?  Sometimes you need a real friend to get a good restaurant review, even if — especially if — they’re a little bit eccentric. 

Lili’s on Magnolia 1310 W. Magnolia Fort Worth Texas 76104 (817) 877-0700

Lunch and dinner entree’s about $10-$15

Monday to Friday 11-2:30 for lunch, Dinner Tuesday to Thursday, 5:30 to 9 p.m.  5:30-10. Friday & Saturday. Closed Sunday.

Editor’s note: Lili’s won the Best New Restaurant award from Fort Worth Weekly in 2007, the year it debuted.

Who should definitely go: Guys who want to impress a girl on a date. The ambiance is intimate, the food is chick-friendly without giving up meat entirely, and if it doesn’t go well, you’ve not set yourself back too far. Also, people who like a little bit of continental in their dinner.  Or anyone who wants a small, friendly place to have a cozy meal–as long as they don’t need any hot dogs or milk shakes.