New Chinatown, Houston

1. Yes, Lee’s Sandwiches hails from California, but that just means it’s a spot where you can experience Melting Pot America in its myriad glory. Your order is called in Vietnamese and English; it’s a little like being in a train station in seventies Saigon. The baguettes and croissants are made on the premises, as are the Vietnam- ese sandwiches. The grilled pork is, at $2.50, a cheap ticket to heaven. 11210 Bellaire Blvd., Suite 113; 281-933-9988

Town Slogans

  • 1. Aransas Pass
  • 2. Brownsville
  • 3. Castroville
  • 4. Comfort
  • 5. Corpus Christi
  • 6. Crandall
  • 7. Crockett
  • 8. Devine
  • 9. El Campo
  • 10. Granbury
  • 11. Gun Barrel City
  • 12. Hico
  • 13. Honey Grove
  • 14. Jasper
  • 15. Luling
  • 16. Mathis
  • 17. McAllen

Taken for Granite

Yes, the wildflowers of Llano County can be spectacular— sometimes. If the rains come in fall and spring. If the searing heat holds off until summer. If, when the blooms do appear, they aren’t crushed by zillions of kiddos and pups posing for photos.

The Last Resort

At first blush, it’s almost impossible to tell the age of a resident of south Brewster County, and there are two good reasons for that. The first is the effect of the arid Big Bend environs, of the baking sun, beating winds, and unrelenting dust. Faces age faster in the desert, the skin browning and creasing and toughening up in ways that city and suburban dwellers don’t have to worry about. But the other reason for the difficulty in determining someone’s age out there cuts the other way.

One-track Mind

It’s a steamy Friday afternoon, and I’m fighting for my life on Interstate 10 heading into Houston, battling never-ending construction and kamikaze drivers. Why? Because of jealousy: Houston, which I relentlessly belittle, as every loyal Austinite should, has a newly minted light-rail train system. My oh-so-progressive city doesn’t.

One-track Mind

It’s a steamy Friday afternoon, and I’m fighting for my life on Interstate 10 heading into Houston, battling never-ending construction and kamikaze drivers. Why? Because of jealousy: Houston, which I relentlessly belittle, as every loyal Austinite should, has a newly minted light-rail train system. My oh-so-progressive city doesn’t.

Land That I Love

The last time I was in this part of Palo Duro Canyon, the authorities were after me, for all I knew with dogs and helicopters. That may be overstating the case, but there were helicopters overhead, and my backpacking companion and I were certainly paranoid that the law was on our tail. We were trespassing—heinous and despicable behavior for which we would eventually be arrested and receive our official comeuppance.

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