When we put out a call for short-and-sweet notes about our state, you did not disappoint.
What does Texas mean to you? Is it ”Dairy Queen on a summer night”? ”Risking everything for a bluebonnet photo”?
In our February "Love Letters to Texas" collector's issue, the Texanist takes a walk down memory lane.
Texas Monthly has been giving Texans, both new and old, insights into this exceptional state for nearly half a century. Our February 2019 collector’s issue curates stories from our archives that celebrate the Texas icons and oddities that so many of us treasure, and reflect our love of the state’s land, traditions, and characters.
Appreciations by current and former staffers who know them all too well.
Over the years, Texas Monthly’s most celebrated voices have written about the places that shaped them, from the Panhandle to the border. We revisit some of the classics.
Icons and archetypes that reveal what it means to be Texan.
In the age of gastropubs and microbreweries, Texas still boasts a few real dive bars—where the jukebox is irreplaceable, the beer is domestic, and the patrons feel like family—if you know where to look.
I always knew that the work my dad did as an Episcopal priest and grief counselor was important. But I didn’t understand how important until the birth of my son.
A strand-by-strand look at the roots of a Texas phenomenon.
To experience the majesty and peril of the desert on my own terms, I spent a week alone in the Solitario, the most remote area of Big Bend Ranch State Park. I confronted my darkest fears—and made small talk with an insect.
Nachos, tomatillo sauce, chile con queso—will the real Mexican food please stand up? A crash course in Texans’ favorite fusion fare.
Come hell or high water, you’ll want to read our compilation of down-home aphorisms.
For eight years, I had a love affair with Houston. When the good times ended, we drifted apart. But while it lasted, we had the time of our lives.
At the Fort Worth stockyards, cattlemen buy and sell amid the last vestiges of the Old West.
Especially not in Sweetwater: the score at last count was Humans 10,000, Rattlers 0.