led by our stomachs, part 1

At yesterday’s twilight, we rolled into our driveway, bellies full and legs stiff from an ambitious road trip across our great state (former a republic, lest we forget) centered almost exclusively around food. Where most people would spend time deciding on recreational activities, nice hotels, and cultural fripperies, we spent hours finding quirky restaurants in strange towns. I mean, why else would ANYONE intentionally drive to Amarillo, the un-deodorized armpit of Texas?!

Our first stop was not far away, the Chef Point Café in Watauga, just northeast of Fort Worth. Guy Fieri of “Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives” had done a piece on this eatery that says it’s a “five-star restaurant in a gas station,” but we found it a bit underwhelming on the quality side. Certainly charming and full of local yokels, the café sports fold-up tables and paper napkins with escargot and scallops on the menu.



I tried the stuffed blackened pork chop, which was actually TOO stuffed with crab, though it swam in a delectable asiago cream sauce. I’d go again, but I’d stick to a cheaper entrée, like the chicken scampi, which was less ambitious and more delicious.



Next was the famed Big Texan Steakhouse in Amarillo, and it’s one of those wonderful places that advertises its 72-oz. steak-eating challenge every few exits for 100 miles outside the city. We had steak, predictably, rolls, potatoes and mac-and-cheese, and it was good and fun, though eating under such a wide variety of dead, stuffed animals was a tad creepy.



For breakfast the next morning, we were the first customers at Biti Pies, a bakery that specializes in itty-bitty pies. (And yes, the primary reason we had to go was my female obsession with all things miniature.) Went to a local coffeehouse to eat them and discovered the best darn chocolate meringue pie I’ve ever eaten. Though the buttermilk, pecan, and coconut cream varieties were just as perfect!


We drove down the flat, crusty expanse of the Panhandle down to the flat, dusty expanse of Odessa for lunch at Rockin’ Q Smokehouse and had pulled pork that just about melted in your mouth. The ranch beans were sweltering with jalapenos but the cole slaw cooled it right off.



On to Marfa, to see the fabulous Prada Marfa and see the alien lights dipping over the horizon (and yes, Scully, we saw them!). We were out so late our only option was a 24-hour diner near our motel in Alpine. Nothing to write home about.

I shall continue relating our culinary adventures on the morrow.