Here’s a quick recap of the last best food I will have in Austin for awhile. (I’ll only be gone two weeks, so don’t feel too sorry for me. Some of you might have an idea where I am headed based on the unintentional embedded clue in the previous sentence.) But I took a break from packing and errands and the to do list and stepped out with a couple of my favorite girlfriends last night here in Austin.
First we visited Henri’s Wine and Cheese on South Lamar. Cozy, hip atmosphere with charming yellow roses and a mini mason jar on the table filled with tattered “’Trivial Pursuit’ cards which basically said to me, “Settle in for awhile.”
Which we did. The wine was delicious as was the antipasto board. Our super friendly server made a custom board for us as I wanted something from each of the listings on the short but enticing menu. We enjoyed two cheeses, Thai salami, smoked salmon spread, herbed goat cheese cream, and the pies de resistance…chicken liver lavender pate.
No one touched the strawberries. (Lovely pop of color but snooze.)
Inexplicably we were still hungry and the other girls wanted cocktails instead of just vino so we scooted on up the road to The Gibson Bar which some of you may recall used to be a really kick ass camera and photography store back in the day. But now it is a dark, sexy, casual bar with extremely attentive servers, flat screen TVs patiently waiting for college football season, and decent music playing. Food comes from the famed, as-seen-on-TV trailer out front: Luke’s Inside Out.
On my suggestion Chrissie ordered “The Cow” bahn mi while Shelley and I decided to split the burger. When the question came, “It comes with chips, do you want to change those to fries instead?” my vote was predictable.
I love french fries. Love. Always have my whole entire life. My death row meal most certainly includes french fries. When I was ten years old I got a pet hamster and decided to name him Pomme Frite as an homage to my favorite food. (My family lived in London then so I was a bit affected with my continental flair and of course went with the French term for french fry.) But the hamster turned out to be a girl hamster so I tweaked her name to Pomme Frita.
At any rate, dedicated french fry connoisseurs such as myself reserve a special appreciation for the rarified sub-category known as The Crinkle Fry.
Am I the only one who hears a harp playing right now?
If you think I love a french fry, I get absolutely weak in the knees for a crinkle fry. So without pause we upgraded the plebian chips to crinkle fries and clutched our cocktails with eager anticipation as we awaited our baskets of food.
I don’t even know what to say. Not only were they among the best crinkle fries I have ever had, it might have been the best burger I have ever tasted in my whole life.
But because I exercised like a maniac yesterday and didn’t want to unravel all of that hard work I showed super human restraint and only ate half of my half of the burger.
I may have shown a tad less restraint with the fries, stepping over my invisible 50% line. But c’mon…they were crinkle fries.
It was a sublimely gorgeous evening in Austin with a fullish moon, pink sunset, and slightly-cooler-than-brutal temps. The food was fantastic, the friends even better. What a perfect send-off as tomorrow Little Chick and I head out to Montana where the Professor is already standing somewhere in a trout stream waiting for us.
Stay tuned for updates from the 406…
(Copyright 2013 by Christine Warren)