Road Trip Part 3: The Republic of Texas

Elizabeth had never been to San Antonio and I had not been since I was nine years old. So we decided to go. It was a hot, very humid day. We walked up to the Alamo, about a mile from our hotel. It was one of the least entertaining historical sites I have ever seen.

"We ask that gentlemen remove their covers," an older man said to me upon entering. "This is holy ground."

I removed my Angels hat but I couldn't help but let out a little laugh. Holy ground? The rest of the exhibits were pretty much along those lines: this is the most important place in the history of the country and possibly the world, but whatever you do, don't take any pictures. The gift shop, on the other hand, was impressively stocked and staffed, selling ten dollar bottles of barbecue sauce and souvenir coins. (And, of course, you can buy lots of pictures there of the things you weren't allowed to photograph yourself.) The priorities are clear. We were there a total of 20 minutes, then walked down to the Riverwalk and took a boat ride, which was much more fun and informative.

After that we were quite hungry. There were the usual assortment of chain restaurants, none of which I was willing to visit: Hard Rock, Joe's Crab Shack, Hooter's, Rainforest Cafe, and probably some others I am forgetting. I'm not particulary opposed to chain restaurants, but I was certainly not in the mood to eat at one on the banks of the Riverwalk. There was a restaurant called "The Original Mexican Restaurant" that I refused to visit on the grounds that the name was dishonest. We decided to just take a stroll and see what caught our eye. 

We had stopped at a restaurant called Boudro's - looking at reviews now, it seems to be the best-reviewed restaurant on the Riverwalk - and a pulled pork sandwich with black pepper sauce caught my eye. But the host told me it would be a while before we could have an outside table. I wanted to eat immediately and I wanted to eat outside, so we kept walking.

At Republic of Texas, there were several outdoor tables available. Yes, the fact that it was the only restaurant out of a dozen we'd passed with available tables should have been a warning, but I wasn't thinking clearly. I needed a cold drink.

Not a challenging menu but I didn't expect it to be, and to be honest I didn't really care.

I would rather drink the water out of the Riverwalk than eat one of these.

Not too shabby, eh?

The Tecate was ice cold and exactly what I wanted. I finished it in about thirty seconds. There would be more.

Elizabeth had a strawberry daiquiri and she enjoyed it very much.

The chips were okay but obviously not fresh. The salsa was the most watery, flavorless salsa I have had in years. (Not that this stopped me from eating a lot of it.)

Elizabeth had the cheese quesadilla. As usual, she couldn't finish her plate so I took a wedge of it. There was plenty of cheese and once some sour cream and hot sauce was applied, it was pretty good. It's kind of hard to screw up cheese grilled inside a tortilla, and Republic of Texas did not. I know that's a pretty tepid review, but that's the kind of place it is.

I had the Pollo Rojo: two chicken enchiladas smothered with red sauce, topped with cheese, and placed between rice and beans. Like Elizabeth's quesadilla, this was adequate. No better, no worse. I would never recommend it to anyone - without the hot sauce I added, it was incredibly bland - but it did the job of satiating me. (On the menu, it was under a section called "Texican," which sums up the food perfectly. Even though I don't really know what that means.)

I wish we had waited the extra time to eat at Boudro's, but I'm still glad we bypassed all of the chain retaurants on the Riverwalk. (I can take the subway for 20 minutes and eat at any of those in Times Square.) Republic of Texas was far from a good restaurant, but other than that terrible salsa, it wasn't really bad. The service was good and it was certainly an enjoyable location in which to eat.

And the best part: you have now read about my two least favorite meals of the trip. We got them both out of the way in the first 48 hours.

Road Trip Part 2: Cracker Barrel

Years ago, Elizabeth told me she was craving Cracker Barrel. I said I didn't think there were any in California and this surprised her; we looked and sure enough I was correct. I didn't ever remember going to a Cracker Barrel. In fact, all I really knew about the place is a vague memory from a few years back that there was evidence they segregated their customers by race when seating them.

But when we were planning our trip and she said she really wanted to eat at Cracker Barrel, I said of course we could... once. As it turned out, we were hungry and the car needed gas in eastern Arizona on the first night of the trip and right when we pulled off the highway we saw a Cracker Barrel.

There was a strong recognition when I walked in: the "country store" portion of the building, selling hard candy, cheesy postcards, and souvenirs that fall somewhere between patriotic and jingoist. I realized that technically I had been to a Cracker Barrel before: on one of the road trips I took in my early 20s I stopped in one night, took a look at the place and left. Now, a decade later, here I was again.

Did you ever read Bill Bryson's The Lost Continent? It's my favorite of his books though I admit it's pretty mean-spirited; he takes a little too much delight in making fun of people. So I don't want to do that here... but it's impossible for me to write about the place and not mention that quite a few customers - I would even guess the majority - were obese. I'm talking morbidly obese. I never thought I would see a restaurant with a higher percentage of obese people than Claim Jumper, but this particular Cracker Barrel put any Claim Jumper I have seen to shame.

Of course, many of the menu items are served with not one, not two, but three side dishes. It's possible to get a fried chicken dinner with steak fries, fried okra, and mac 'n cheese. (To be honest, I considered doing that.)

Just some of the kitsch that was on our table.

I had an unsweetened iced tea; Elizabeth had a raspberry tea.

I had the fried shrimp plate, selecting as my three sides cole slaw, steak fries, and "dumplins." The cole slaw was really good, and the cocktail sauce, spiked with pepper, was outstanding. But I didn't care for anything else. The shrimp were undercooked, the breading separating from the shrimp as soon as I picked up each piece. The fries were room temperature and flabby. The dumplins had no flavor whatsoever. But there was a lot of food.

Elizabeth had the chicken n' dumplins with mashed potatoes and green beans. She liked her plate (I'm glad one of us did) but when she gave me a taste of the chicken I could not differentiate between it and the dumplins.

Our server was really nice and never let my iced tea get less than half full, the restaurant was clean and all this food - it could have served four people - was a little over twenty bucks. I can see why some people would feel comfortable here. But I just can't get past the fact that the food seemed as bland and uninteresting as any restaurant food I can ever remember having.

We would not eat at Cracker Barrel again on this trip.

Road Trip Part 1: Farewell And Adieu To You, Fair Spanish Ladies

Several people asked me about having a going-away party, but I wasn't in the mood for such a thing. However, I did want to hang out with some people for a while before I left, so I suggested we get together at Bar Celona on Friday afternoon for a few drinks after the movers came by. The back patio of Bar Celona - in the alley, away from the traffic of Colorado Blvd -  has been a favorite spot for me and my friends to hang out for more than half a decade now. Several of my friends stopped by and after a round or two of drinks we picked over the happy hour menu for some snacks. (All of Bar Celona's happy hour items are five bucks between 4-7.)

Amy went inside to order some food and she ordered a lot of it. We started with the tortilla española - as the name indicates, a Spanish omelet with onions and peppers and a mild romesco sauce. Although I would have liked some extra spice to it, I certainly liked the dish.

Albondigas: meatballs with saffron and allspice, tossed with some cheese (perhaps manchego?) and arugula. These were delicious and I'm glad Amy placed more than one order. They went perfectly with my Dos Equis beers. 

 

The sliders were fine: not bad by any means, but there was absolutely nothing special about them. (They would have been better if served on a softer bun.) Still, I ate at least one, probably two, and had no complaints.

Three orders of Spanish flatbread also hit the table. 

My favorite was the Spanish sausage flatbread, with chorizo. I've had this several times and it always hits the spot.

This flatbread looked strange - I have no idea what was on it - and I did not have any, but other people seemed to enjoy it. 

I have had the patatas bravas at Bar Celona dozens of times over the years. These were by far the best I've ever had. (Other people agreed with me.)

We slowed down a little after shovelling in all that food. Some people took off, others showed up, some who had left even returned. There would be more food later on. 

I won't say who this person is, but let's just say his name has appeared here many times over the years. He was hanging out down at Lucky Baldwin's (as I mentioned when I wrote about the place a couple of weeks ago, there were years when I was there almost every day) so he brought me a Guinness - almost always my beer of choice back in the day - over to Bar Celona.

Later in the evening (well after happy hour was over) we were hungry again so we picked up the menus and placed more orders.

Elizabeth ordered the piquillo peppers stuffed with goat cheese and served with romesco sauce. These were outstanding. We could have eaten three orders of them.

Of course there was another round of those patatas bravas. 

I've never been a fan of the empanadas at Bar Celona. I feel they are always overcooked dough with a flavorless interior. So I didn't try any of these. But other people enjoyed them. 

Grilled bread with cheese, fresh garlic and tomatoes. Fantastic. Well, once I took off them tomato. 

Dave got a skewer of chicken with grilled bread and chimichurri sauce. I'd never tried this before but took a tiny taste and really enjoyed it.

I stayed out much later than I had planned (Bryce and I could not remember how many years it had been - probably 6 or 7 - since we'd had a beer together after midnight) but it was worth it to hang out with everyone. And the food was certainly better than what I had the next night on the road. But more on that tomorrow.

Del Taco Grilled Chicken Tacos

Last summer I wrote about Del Taco's Chicken Soft Tacos, which I have loved for a long time. Recently they came out with something called "Grilled Chicken Tacos," which appears to be just a fancy name for their chicken tacos. Still, that's all the reason I needed to try them - especially since they are offered with two new sauce flavors: ranch and chipotle.

I tried the "new" tacos a couple of weeks ago but, while writing about my favorite places in Pasadena before I moved, I never got around to showing photos of the tacos. So, being tired from a 3700 mile road trip and not wanting to exert myself too much (road trip posts will start Monday), I'll show you the photos and briefly tell you that I loved the chipotle and regular versions of the taco, but did not care for the ranch.

The closest Del Taco to New York is in Ohio, so I probably won't be having any of these for a while. I will miss them.

Condiments Across America

Greetings. I finally just got my own internet again for the first time in two weeks. (But hey, it's not like I've missed reading about any Pujols home runs.) I have at least 20 posts I can write from the last two weeks on the road, and I promise I will start soon. But in the meantime, I thought I'd offer this.

I had to throw out all of my refrigerated condiments when I moved. If you've been reading for long, you know how much I love condiments, so it was necessary to start again. The above is what I picked up on my trip across the country.


Bought in El Paso

San Antonio

New Orleans

Mobil

Rockledge, Florida

Viera, Florida

Florence, South Carolina

Roanoke Rapids, North Carolina

Ladysmith, Virgina