New York Times Discovers Marfa. Again. And Again. And Again.
The New York Times is hopelessly addicted to stories about how cool Marfa is. Like this one. Or this one. Or this one. Or this one. Today’s story is about how much of a foodie town Marfa has become.
At the weekly farmers’ market the next morning, housed under a gigantic shade pavilion downtown beside the railroad tracks, I try a savory pork asado burrito and buy a half dozen chicken tamales for later, before stocking up on tortillas, pecan brittle, bok choy, bread, yogurt and eggs, all with a vague feeling that I can’t believe my luck.
…A few days after I’ve eaten at Cochineal — enjoying a salt-and-pepper shrimp salad over fennel and oranges in a gravel courtyard under an orange-streaked sunset — the restaurant’s owner, Tom Rapp, tells me that he and his partner, Toshifumi Sakihara, opened it last year as an extension of the “global home cooking” they did at their restaurant, Etats-Unis, on the Upper East Side of Manhattan.
Mr. Rapp is pithy about the history of Marfa that’s made Cochineal viable: “In the beginning there was cattle, sheep and the railroad. Then there was Judd. Judd begat Crowley,” he says, referring to Tim Crowley, a philanthropic Houstonian central to the town’s revitalization. “Judd made Marfa a destination but did little in remaking the town. It’s in a fourth phase now that there is infrastructure, hotel space, restaurant space. It’s a solidification of what they gave.”
There’s nothing more unappealingly bourgie than whining about how bourgie something has become, so I’ll refrain. I’m all for farmers’ markets and nice little homegrown restaurants that give people jobs and contribute to the local economy. But is it really true that fancy restaurants and new hotels are a “solidification of what [Judd] gave”? Seems like he fled out to the desert to get away from all that crap. He once said, “In West Texas, there is a lot of land but nowhere to go.” I don’t think what he meant was that he really wanted a smoothie.
Tagged: marfa.





