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Dallas Real Estate: Behind The Doors of 1604

3496 / THE TOWER RESIDENCES AT THE RITZ-CARLTON, DALLAS 5:00 p.m. The glam begins. After a brief tour of our new home logistics — where we get our mail, store our wine, and work the state of the art elevators, all with champagne in hand — we jet up to 1604. Otis meets NASA: The Tower’s elevators are electronically synced to your key fob, so you don’t even have to punch in your floor number — it reads it for you. (And oh so hygienic.) If you are, say, a guest who actually has to touch the keypad, you simply tap in the floor number and up you go — the elevator will never stop at another floor, so Ritz security is supreme.  What do you do if you want to visit a neighbor, borrow a cup of sugar? Good question. (Friends will also have had to get by Willie, a 6′7″ former linebacker doorman.) En route we run into a friend, physician Dr. George Zoys — he LIVES here, actually, and loves it. Come on by for a drink, we tell him, if you can outsmart the elevator. (The Tower Residences are about 75% sold out.) Our home: 1604 is a two bedroom with study plus powder room, kitchen, laundry room, dining room and balcony extraordinaire, 2700 ish square feet. First thing we do is check out the view: wow! We spy Cowboys Stadium and even snatches of Fort Worth. Guests arrive. Conventionally, if I were at my home, I’d have made a frantic run to Whole Foods or Tom Thumb for cheese, fruit, or whatever they had on hand ready-made. But life at The Ritz-Carlton Dallas is different: you ring up the kitchen or Dean Fearings and they happily prepare your hors d’oeuvres, sending up a complete wait staff. And so we had folks stirring up pumpkin shooters and mini wasabi filets, serving vino. For two hours we nibbled and chatted as the rain settled in over Dallas and moved east — our balcony view of Dallas was nice and dry. Oh yes: at some point I said something about being  chilled, and like magic Thomas Smyth, Director of Residences, had a fire glowing in the fireplace at the touch of a button.

Next thing you’ll tell me, I said, is that I can turn on the fireplace from my key fob.

7:30 pm: Dinner for four at Fearings. By now our cocktail guests had departed — Halle and Ali to a concert, Pam to dinner, Anna to her babies, Jeanne, Glenn, Sara and Gillea to Cattle Barons. By now it was pouring but the four of us footed the skybridge that connects The Tower Residences to the hotel. Neither of us curly girls frizzed. In fact, I had no idea how much it was raining until later.

8:00 pm: We enjoy the meal of a lifetime at Fearing’s, one of the driving reasons why many people buy Ritz real estate: you’ve got the Number One restaurant in hotel dining (dry) steps away, available for in-home catering, and a boost on reservations. In fact, Barbara Capasso personally escorted us to the restaurant lest we get lost. Or wet.

“Are you doing this just because I am a writer?” I asked.

“No, we treat all our guests like this,” she said. “We are renown for our personalized, attentive service.”

And yes, when we finished dinner — a sampling of Dean’s signature Tortilla Soup, Cast Iron Alaskan Halibut on Gulf Lump Crab “Succotash”with Tabasco/Bacon Gastrique and Fried Green Tomatoes, Maple-Black Peppercorn Soaked Buffalo Tenderloin on Anson Mills Jalapeño Grits and Crispy Butternut Squash Taquito, Barbara was there to roll us escort us home.

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