Food of Texas. Caroline Stuart
consumption of large quantities of beer, hold world championship cook-offs each year in Terlingua, a remote, almost ghostly town in the Davis Mountains of far West Texas. Across the state, Czechs hold an annual festival in the town of West (between Dallas and Austin) to celebrate their favorite pastry, the kolache. San Antonio and Austin still have some of the best Mexican food in the state. And along the Gulf Coast, neighbors gather on a weekend afternoon for crab and crawfish boils.
Mario Cantu of Mario's Mexican Restarant serves up authentic Tex-Mex while a mariachi hand accompanies.
The food of Texas ranges from homestyle fare to more sophisticated preparations turned out by some of the most refined restaurant kitchens in the country. Many Texans are proud to say they appreciate both of these culinary extremes for their unique character and flavor. That's a heritage worth preserving.
The legendary 1.2 million-acre King Ranch lies twenty miles south of Corpus Christi, and was established in the 1850s by Richard King. Pictured here are Darwin Smith (foreground) and Tio Klehurg (background).
The Biggest and the Best of Texas
Fact, fantasy, and wishful thinking
by Caroline Stuart
It's hard for Texans to be humble. Their bumper stickers proclaim "I wasn't born in Texas but I got here as soon as I could" and "Don't mess with Texas/' suggesting that Texas is not only a state, but a state of mind. Typical residents brag that their state has the biggest and best of nearly everything, from the most stars in the sky to the world's biggest moon. They might even lay claim to living in "God's country" and declare that you have to go through Texas to get to Heaven. Doubters, they might tell you, are cordially invited to stick around and see for themselves.
While such bravado might seem shameless to the uninitiated, Texans needn't look far to find facts to support their pride. For openers, the Lone Star State is eight hundred miles wide with incredibly vast stretches of land and open sky, but that's only the beginning. Among its many ranches, Texas boasts the largest in the country. In fact, the King Ranch spreads across more than 800,000 acres. That's more acreage than the state of Rhode Island! In 1853, riverboat captain Richard King bought this South Texas spread for only three dollars an acre for 15,500 acres of land. Then he stocked it with longhorn cattle, at five dollars per head. Today, vast herds of cattle roam the ranges of King Ranch, known as the birthplace of the American ranching industry. And since its inception a century and a half ago, it has founded two American beef brands and produced some of the all-time top running and performance horses.
At the annual Chili Cook-off, held near San Marcos, chili aficionados throw their hat into the ling to compete against other contestants' concoctions. Some participants guard generations-old secret recipes, while other participants ingredients are, well, not so secret.
For the curious-minded who aren't steeped in the traditions of life on the range, Texas also has more dude ranches than any other state. Here, city slickers and cowboy wanna-bes can get a taste of ranch life. After a day in the saddle, a trailside cookout of sizzling Texas-sized steaks, baked beans, home fries, and pecan pie makes a home on the range pretty appealing—and might provide the casual visitor with some insight into the nature of Texan cuisine.
Whether on the range or in city restaurants—and no matter what the dish—plates come to the table piled high with huge portions. But beef is the preferred fare, and no wonder: Texas is the country's leading cattle-raising state, contributing a major share to the local economy. And select cuts of the stuff, served on its own or in a hearty chili, can be had in the state's many popular steak houses.
The Paris Cafe in Fort Worth is known for its famous chicken-fried steak—not to mention its colorful personality.
Texas is by no means strictly carnivorous however. Its farms provide an enormous supply of produce, including much of the nation's winter crop. Wheat, spinach, watermelon, cantaloupes, strawberries, pecans, chiles, peaches, potatoes, and black-eyed peas are all grown here. And Texas sweet onions—similar to Vidalia, Maui, and Walla Walla onions—are quite famous. Some folks (especially Texans) swear that they are the biggest, sweetest, juiciest onions in the world—and mild enough to eat raw like apples.
And speaking of sweet and juicy, some of the finest citrus in the country thrives in the ideal climate of the Rio Grande Valley, including the Texas state fruit, the Rio Red grapefruit. Rice is another important Texas crop. Exotic strains like Texmati, pecan-scented, and jasmine share the soil with the more familiar long-grain white.
If Texas valleys and farmlands contribute some of the best produce and beef to Texan cuisine, then Southeast Texas coaxes another ingredient from the Gulf of Mexico. Everyday, shrimpers bring in huge hauls of America's favorite seafood to be fried, boiled, sauteed, souped, and sauced. Local shrimp are prized throughout the state and shipped nationwide. To fulfill the constant demand, commercial shrimp farming supplements the supply from the Gulf.
With such a variety of foods native to the region, Texans love to celebrate the heritage that has contributed to their cuisine, and they pull out all the stops to do so. From one end of the state to the other, good folks gather the best from their crop, game, and cattle to honor an area's specialties. On the fruity side, you can partake in the Poteet Strawberry Festival, Fredericksburg Peach Festival, and Pecos Cantaloupe Festival. And the Luling Watermelon Thump is punctuated by a seed-spitting competition that the locals take quite seriously.
For those who prefer stick-to-your-ribs samplings, there's the Wurstfest in New Braunfels, with a decidedly German flair; the East Texas Poultry Festival in the town of Center, with a lively flying-chicken contest; the Black-Eyed Pea Festival in Athens; the World Champion Barbecue Goat Cook-Off in Brady; and the Official Shrimporee of Texas in Aransas Pass. And for the strong of tongue and heart, the Palestine Hot Pepper Festival, the "hottest festival in Texas," features a chile-eating contest. Attendees might tell you that, short of a blowtorch, there's nothing too hot for a bold Texan to put in his mouth, and here the chile reigns supreme. But the celebrations don't end there. Barbecue festivals turn up all over, and everyone awaits the results of the granddaddy of chili cook-offs in Terlingua.
But this famous down-home character is counterbalanced by the state's equally famous opulent glamour and conspicuous consumption. For every pair of broken-in cowboy boots dancing the two-step and making tracks to local barbecues and cafes, a stylish couple dressed in glitter and gold savors haute cuisine in Houston, Austin, or Dallas. Whether in a low-down honky-tonk down the road from the farm or at a refined upscale establishment in a big city, it's impossible to miss the genuine hospitality, warm southern drawl, and easy comfortable attitude that emanates.
In light of this fabulous diversity of cuisine and culture, one fact remains: the Texas soil, forever yielding and forever stretching to where it meets the sky, provides.
At La Fogata Restaurant in San Antonio, owner Johnny Cavillo helps his friend Maria eat queso flameado, prepared with Mexican sausage, cheese from Oaxaca, and corn or flour tortillas.
So if Texans speak of their fair state in bold superlatives, perhaps the bragging rights are justified, even if exaggeration does creep in from time to time. Who can blame Texans for taking pride in what is truly one of the most colorful of the United States, for celebrating their shindigs and state fairs, shining cities and sprawling plains, the best beef and barbecue in the world, and on and on. The state is surely blessed with bounty.
Mama Ninfa Law renzo herself serves up some of the best Tex-Mex the state has to offer at her self-titled establishment, Ninfa's, located in Houston.