If I were the goat at the Giggling Goat gastro-trailer, I don’t know if I’d be giggling or grieving. On the one hand, the gourmet offerings, such as Japanese sweet potato fries and a lamb loin Greek salad, are mouth-wateringly delicious. On the other, the cabrito (i.e., goat) burger is the specialty on the menu.

And specialty it is. The thick, juicy patty, ground in-house, was grilled to perfection and bursting with salty, garlicky flavor between a buttered-and-grilled bistro bun. Topped with a bubbling layer of Jack cheese, chopped onion and tomato confit, and baby greens in a slightly sweet honey mustard vinaigrette, this billy burger was not for kids. Neither were the Japanese sweet potato fries. Unlike the orange-fleshed sweet potato that often shrivels and burns in French form, this yellow-fleshed variety was plump and dense, almost bready, like savory yucca. Doused with sea salt and served dangerously hot, the fries were a perfectly addicting side.

I wish that I could say the same for the rabbit purse. Unfortunately, the deep-fried Asian appetizer was just that, very deep-fried—oil snaked onto the plastic container—and stuffed with more cabbage and ginger than local rabbit. If grease doesn’t get your goat, though, give this snack a try. I was more partial to the zucchini fries. Though the trailer’s service was none too great—the guy behind the counter overcharged my credit card at first and then forgot to deliver what we’d ordered—the food was worth waiting for, especially the tender zucchini spears enveloped in thick breading, served with a house-made poblano ranch dipping sauce.

To accompany the burgers and fried assortments, the menu boasts several semi-healthy, fresh choices. My favorite was the lamb loin salad, with crisp baby greens, diced green apples, hearty feta, an outstanding olive tapenade, and an almost superfluous, very orange citrusy dressing. And let’s not forget the tender pepper-and-garlic-crusted lamb slices on top, which guided the salad from good to great.

Creative cabrito, ribeye, and pork burgers. Chimichangas, zucchini fries, and ginger-spiked tofu cakes. Salads with lamb loin, goat cheese, or stuffed tomatoes. We know how the goat feels. What makes you giggle?

South Shore Eatery, 1620 E. Riverside (512-750-5717). Open Tue–Sat 12–10. Closed Sun & Mon.

Posted by Megan Giller

Tagged: burgers, cabrito, Giggling Goat, Trailer Thursday

Years ago, I was under the impression that every Texan knew what a salt lick was, loved the smell of hay in an old barn, and knew better than to request chocolate pie for dessert, lest one be handed a cow patty from the fields.

But a dear friend of mine, a native Texan just like me, didn’t have a clue when it came to farming. She was raised in the Dallas area, and while she had a clear understanding of exactly how to navigate a complicated highway system, she’d never seen a cow in person. So I offered to take her to my hometown and introduce her to our herd.

We started in Austin, and drove a mere 35 miles down the road to Taylor, home of a few of our favorite Texas BBQ spots. When we hit Hutto, she asked me if I thought her cell phone would still work “way out in the middle of nowhere.” So you see, this was a real farm adventure. Heck, maybe I’d even let her drive the tractor!

Growing up on that farm, I knew that we’d say hello to a few new calves each season, and bid adieu to some cows. There was no hiding where they went: My grandpa would load a cow up in the trailer, drive her down to the slaughterhouse, and then a few weeks later we’d get white paper packages with red stamps proclaiming “SIRLOIN” or “GROUND BEEF.” And then my mom would cook dinner.

That’s the meat I grew up eating—and boy, was it tasty. We didn’t call it organic or grass-fed, but that’s exactly what it was; we knew it came from our pasture and it was always delicious. Not everyone has their own pasture, so let me just say this: Forget the ground beef in a tube and dole out a few extra bucks for locally raised beef, which tends to be organic and grass-fed. Check for options at your local farmer’s market. And if you have a favorite local beef supplier, do share the tip!

Posted by Amber Byfield.

If you’re not already busy on the evening of Friday, June 3, consider going to the Edible Austin-sponsored Texas wine dinner at the AT&T Conference Center in Austin. I could be prejudiced, because I was one of the judges who got to choose the finalists, but it sounds absolutely grand. For $100 you’ll get to sample fifteen dishes  from five Central Texas restaurants, paired with fifteen Texas wines. Maybe you don’t know Texas wines at all. This is your chance to see what they’re all about. Maybe you DO know Texas wines–this lineup features some of the best (trust me). The five restaurants to be spotlighted, which competed against twenty-two others for the honor, are Hudson’s on the Bend (Austin), Bin 555 (San Antonio), Garrido’s (Austin), Navajo Grill (Fredericksburg), and the JW Marriott Hill Country Resort and Spa (San Antonio). What will the food be like? Here’s  Bin 555‘s menu (created by  Patrick James Edwards, chef de cuisine, with Jason Dady and Jake Dady, chef-owners). First course: crudo of Gulf Coast grouper with cured Poteet strawberries, shaved 1015 onion, jalapeno, and fennel pollen (paired with Becker Vineyards Provencal Rose 2009). Second course: roasted lamb loin with herb glazed turnips, porcini-blackberry “soil,” and blossoms of wild wood sorrel and rosemary (paired with Becker’s Iconoclast Cabernet Sauvignon 2009). Third course: Texas Ruby Red Grapefruit “Dreamsicle” with Vanilla semifreddo, opal basil, and chantilly cream laced with Fowler’s Texas honey (paired with Becker’s Clementine 2010).  Bon apetit. (Image from, what else?, Becker Vineyards.)

Awesome Tomatoes

Feature: Fried Green Tomato

Critics 83% Audience 91%

Movie Info

Genre: Southern, Comfort Food, Comedy

Synopsis: The Whistle Stop Café it ain’t, but the Fried Green Tomato, on the corner of South First and Live Oak, holds the deep South dear to its crunchy, plump heart. The trailer serves up first-rate junk food featuring the signature fare, a thin yet sturdy slice of the rotund fruit deep-fried and gleaming with goodness. The tomato has mastered this role (we’ve heard the words “Oscar-worthy” growing through the grapevine), and though this is more of a character study, the plot is certainly furthered by her supporting actors, homemade pimento cheese and everyone’s favorite heartthrob, the bacon strip. When the three come together, good times and hilarity ensue. Though some critics have already sputtered all through the gutter about the film’s being “wincingly overwrought,” we delighted in the overall cheesiness, which sent our stomachs aflutter.

Rated: PG-13, for mild off-color heirloom humor and a few adult-size calorific sandwiches.

Distributor: Costco, unfortunately, is the supplier of the trailer’s bland wheat bread. Nice, thick, slices of lightly toasted sourdough, or even buttermilk bread, could have won one of these performances Best Sammy of the Year.

Running Time: Less than 15 minutes. Or, if you want to linger, there are nice tables, and the SOFI trailer park is dog-friendly. Just watch out for the flies.

In Theaters: Showing now!

Box Office: Under $10.

Cast:

Caprese Salad. A few Italians might roll over in their graves if they saw this concoction, but more likely, they’d push aside that dirt and dig in: The “salad” was that good. It’s hard to go wrong with a stack of fried green tomatoes and fresh, melty mozzarella, topped with pesto and a sweet balsamic reduction. A bit on the oily side, but still a nice twist on a household name.

BL(FG)T Sandwich. The BLT was taken to the next level with fried green tomatoes, crisp romaine lettuce, and huge bacon strips. We would have liked to see a little more of that ranch dressing in the performance, though, before this one can earn the “FG” in its name.

Dirty South Sandwich. No, Matthew McConaughey is not in this movie. This is a different kind of dirty Southerner, with (surprise!) fried green tomatoes, bacon, pickled jalapeños, ranch, and pimento cheese. Reminiscent of Mary Louise Parker in a movie with a similar name, the cheese shone in this role—pink, alluring, and a little trashy. (In other words, we could see this pimento-studded star dealing weed in the future.)

Supporting cast. The crab cake slider was clean sold out by the time we got there, and we’ll have to leave the pimento cheese sandwich, the “local” salad, and the FGTs Foster (green tomatoes fried in pancake batter with rum sauce and vanilla ice cream) for our next feature.

SOFI Food Court, 603 W. Live Oak (817-937-6730). Open Mon–Sat 11–3 & 5–8. Closed Sun.

Posted by Megan Giller

Tagged: comfort food, Fried Green Tomato, sandwiches, Trailer Thursday

Courtesy of the alcoholian.com

Mason, Texas. It’s not just known for topaz digging, deer hunting, or its claim be the home of authentic Cooper’s Barbecue—as opposed to the famed smoke pit in Llano. But we’re not discussing barbecue today. Instead, we’d like to note that Mason has fast gained recognition for its small little wine tasting room off the town square—the home of Sandstone Cellars Winery.

Though much of the Hill Country is made up of limestone and granite outcroppings, the Mason area is known for its sandstone deposits, which makes for a sandy soil rich in iron and minerals that according to Sandstone Cellars winemaker, Don Pullum, make for aromatic wines. Something celebrated Texas sommelier Drew Hendricks of Pappas Bros. restaurant in Houston noted when introduced to Sandstone Cellars wines earlier this year. Hendricks is not only the Corporate Wine Director and Director of Education for Pappas, but sits on the board of the Guild of Sommeliers and is the co-founder of the annual TexSom Beverage Conference in Dallas. Both he and Master Sommelier, James Tidwell of the Four Seasons Las Colinas began the conference as a forum for Texas sommeliers to continue their education and challenge their palates in annual blind tasting competitions.

“This conference has been a great way for Texas sommeliers to get to know each other and sharpen their knowledge of wine,” says Hendricks. “There’s always something new to be learned in wine.”

Learning about Sandstone Cellars’ portfolio of wines, was certainly an example to Hendricks about the many notable selections of Texas wine, which is why this month’s Texas Wine of the Month comes from this lonely little winery out in Mason: The Sandstone Cellars VII, Touriga Nacional, 2009.

This relatively low profile Portuguese red grape is a varietal worth watching as Texas grape growers continue to explore the best grapes for the state, and thereby better defining the Texas terroir. Known for its high tannins and concentrated black fruit flavors, touriga is what Pullum would consider an excellent blending grape for its ability to add spice, complexity, and structure to a wine.

“Touriga grows so well here and I’m a big believer in using it as a blending grape,” says Pullum, who supplies Sandstone with grapes from his own Akashic Vineyards. “The 2009 touriga turned out to be so well balanced that we thought it could stand on its own as a straight wine.”

In Hendricks’ opinion, Pullum was spot on. “The structure is just perfect,” says Hendricks. “I love that the Sandstone wines are a perfect balance between laboratory wines and super earthy Burgundy-style wines. Their touriga is a great example of a good artisanal wine. Sandstone is just doing a fantastic job.” And he’s not the only one to think so, at a dinner pairing on Tuesday evening, Hendricks poured this wine for Ray Isle, Executive Wine Editor of Food and Wine Magazine who later tweeted: @islewine: Mighty excellent ’96 J Prieur Montrachet tonight in the company of equally excellent @drewhendricksms. Sandstone Touriga from TX cool, too.

Hendricks notes flavors of deep dark cherry, mint, plumb, and a mushroom, earthy quality to the wine. “For me, this wine would be braised meat heaven,” says Hendricks. “Pair it with short ribs or a lamb shank, and you’re in for a great meal.”

At $30 a bottle, the Sandstone Cellars VII is a great value for what you’re getting. While it’s not readily available at retail outlets throughout the state it is easy to order directly from the winery. It’s also on the wine list at Fearing’s and The Pyramid in Dallas, and as you may have guessed, Pappas Bros. Steakhouses in Dallas and Houston.

- Jessica Dupuy

Tagged: Don Pullum, Drew Hendricks, Jessica Dupuy, Pappas Bros. Steakhouse, Sandstone Cellars Winery, texas wine, Texas Wine of the Month, TexSom

Photograph by Jody Horton

On March 29 we received this letter to the editor:

The greasy slop recipes in Home Plates are disgusting, the photos were stomach turning. The chili looked like diarrhea, the meat was charred and carcinogenic, and anything fried and/or covered in cheese and grease is disgusting. The enchiladas look like exudate from an untended wound.

Doves wrapped in cream cheese and bacon destroys the delicious taste of doves. Try potted dove or quail, that is a real Texas dish. I’ve lived in Texas all my long life and I have never eaten such horrible food. But then I am not fat and unhealthy as are so many Texans. Anyone eating the food in Home Plates would soon be butt-sprung, gut-busted, old before their time, and headed for the cardiac care unit. Your article should make a lot of people turn vegetarian.

I have a question for Patricia Sharpe: Do you eat such unhealthy food and if so, how much do you weigh and how many bypass surgeries (heart and/or gastric) have you had?

Even if these recipes are only “tongue in cheek,” Home Plates will only promote the belief that Texans are ignorant, tasteless, crude, backwoods red necks! Just stop it! Try printing articles that make us look better and don’t hold us up to ridicule, if that is possible.

Barbara Duvall
Houston, Texas

Oh well – can’t please everybody! That question about Pat, of course, was answered in her classic 2005 essay “Confessions of a Skinny Bitch.”

It was when I was talking to our cover boy, Buffalo Gap Ranch owner Tom Perini, about frying chicken, that I realized something: The common denominator in a good half of the dishes we feature in our April cover story, “Cook Like a Texan,” is a cast-iron vessel.

Think about it: If you own one – and of course you own one – you would definitely use a cast-iron skillet to fry chicken, catfish, and CFS. You could cook migas and enchiladas in it too. And while you would never do tamales or brisket on cast-iron, you could broil a ribeye or some jalapeño dove poppers on a skillet if you didn’t have a grill handy.

The photo above comes from chili champion Christine Knight, who provided the Big Kahuna Chili recipe for the April issue. Say Knight:

My treasured cast iron is the same cast iron my Granny, Odessa Mickey Monroe, used to make EVERYTHING in. My Granny Passed it to my Mom who used it for 15+ years and my Mom passed it along to me and my husband about 10 years ago.

We don’t actually know, but we think my Granny’s cast Iron is circa 1950′s. I myself don’t actually cook much in it, but I fondly recall beans, cornbread, chili and the chocolate icing for Granny’s sheet cake all coming out of that iron skillet!

Does your cast iron have a story? How long have you had it? What do you cook in it? Any special seasoning or cleaning tricks? Chime in with a comment.

I spent the last seven years living away from Texas – that’s right, got back as fast as I could – and there were times, especially in smallish Missoula, Montana, that the best restaurant in town with Texas food was certainly our kitchen.

That wouldn’t have happened without Lisa Fain, a Dallas (born) and Houston (raised) native exiled to New York City who has run the Homesick Texan blog since September of 2005. “One of the most revered food blogs anywhere,” says TM contributor June Naylor.

With Fain’s help, I never had to buy flour tortillas at the supermarket. And while it wasn’t quite the same without the Longhorns (or, more accurately this past season, the Horned Frogs), my wife turned the Homesick Texan’s steak fingers with jalapeno cream gravy into the perfect BCS game meal.

Eat My Words asked Fain – a Texas Monthly reader since the age of 9 – a few questions in connection with our “Cook Like a Texan” package. (more…)

How had six years gone by since I attended the Buffalo Gap Wine and Food Summit? It’s the best of the small-scale wine and food fests in Texas–maybe in the country–and the most scenic, with walk-around tastings under the live oaks behind the Perini Ranch Steakhouse and a gala seated dinner in a big white tent lit by chandeliers. The weather cooperated this year, well, pretty much; it was chilly Friday night but wine is a very effective antifreeze, and Saturday was glorious. Here’s a quick gallery of pictures; you’ll recognize steakhouse owner Tom Perini in one of them; he was the cover boy for Texas Monthly’s April feature “Cook Like a Texan.” With his wife Lisa Perini, Tom is the co-organizer of the festival.  Mouse over the pictures to see captions. (And where the hell is Buffalo Gap? Thirteen miles south of Abilene, folks.)

Long before this month’s “Cook Like a Texan” package, in December, 1983, Texas Monthly published a cover story boldly headlined “The Texas Food Manifesto”. The author was Alison Cook and even today, more than 27 years later, the story is an astonishing tour de force. And an enormously fun read.

It begins as a passionate call to arms to Texas food lovers across the state: “The hour is late. We must wake up to the titanic food struggle now facing Texas. We must understand what great Texas cooking really is and protect it against its despoilers….”

Which, at the time, including several Dallas restaurants celebrated by then Times-Herald critic Michael Bauer. Wrote Cook:

I fled from the New Southwestern cuisinoids back to Houston, where my neighborhood bistro promptly proceeded to serve me … oysters in cilantro pesto.

By then I was fairly demoralized. I’ve never felt ambivalent about cilantro; I’ve always like its impertinent astringency, its slap-you-up-side-the-head green taste. But suddenly all the wrong people were eating it for all the wrong reasons. Like mesquite chips and tomatillos and red and green chiles, not to mention tequila and cactus pads and seafood in unfamiliar contexts, cilantro seemed to be headed toward the land of culinary ephemera. It might even, with a bit of bad luck, become the kiwi fruit of the eighties. Leave cilantro alone, I grumbled. Let’s not ruin a perfectly nice herb, of which a little has always gone a long way, by pressing it into service willy-nilly. Ditto for mesquite. A little discretion, please; a little care for the appropriateness of things. Perhaps remedial organizations were in order: Cilantro Anonymous or the Society for the Prevention of Mesquite Abuse.

Cook goes on to meditate on everything from “the importance of eating Tex-Mex” to chicken-fried steak (“it’s almost never any damn good”) to the alarming rise of the fake-o Texas restaurant (“Already Neo-Texas joints are popping up on every other street corner, places named the Texas this, the Longhorn that, the Bubba’s whatsit.”).

The story’s scope is epic, as is its length: just under 14,000 words, including sidebars like a Texas Culinary Hall of Fame (and Shame) and a 100-plus item “Ultimate Texas Menu.”

Today, of course, Cook is the restaurant reviewer for the Houston Chronicle and writes a blog entitled Cook’s Tour. And she’s still a terrific read.