led by our stomachs, part 2

The next morning we drove the hellish, abandoned stretch of earth toward the border and ended up in Terlingua, a desolate place with a single open restaurant and, seemingly, 12 inhabitants, all sitting immobile on the porch of the trading post with cigarettes in hand. We ate at the Ghost Town Café, and Daniel had great chili (as well he should, considering Terlingua hosts the statewide chili cookoff) and I had a good patty melt. The owners watched us carefully for our reactions, and we smiled weakly, mainly because even the air conditioning couldn’t defeat the oppressive heat.



After a long, dry, monotone trip through the Big Bend Nat’l Park (not as cool as you think it’d be…), we left the dusty stretch of West Texas behind us and traveled to the Hill Country, perhaps Texas’s most beautiful body part. Gentle rolls of land swathed in emerald and streams criss-crossing, it’s also home to the great tourist stop of Fredericksburg, which hosted Daniel’s favorite dinner. We ate at Der Lindenbaum, an (obviously) German restaurant on Main Street, and he adored the pepper-topped wiener schnitzel and fuchsia cabbage. I had the traditional schnitzel with potatoes and found it quite yummy.



That ended up being a blessed day, because we happened upon MY favorite restaurant that evening, back near our motel in Kerrville, a tiny, elegant room hovering over the Guadalupe River, which was solidly dark as melted sapphire and just as lovely. The place was called River’s Edge, and I had a Bolognese so spicy it made my annoyance of a cold clear up for one precious hour.



On our last day away, we drove to Blanco for the lavender festival and had lavender lemonade, one of the best drinks I’ve ever had in my life! It was cold and crisp and just kissed with lavender sugar, and I simply must try it soon. Will post recipe, I swear, because how chic would it be to serve lavender lemonade to your next guests?



The final restaurant on our list was the ages-old Bluebonnet Café in Marble Falls. We arrived at 1:45 and had to wait in line to be seated… and there were a LOT of tables. But it was obvious why the place was so packed from the second she set down my plate, shimmering with fried eggs and stacked high with fluffy biscuits. Oh. My. Goodness. I went all out and even got the breakfast plate with chicken fried steak, and I did not regret it.



But the Bluebonnet is known primarily for their pies, and once you catch sight of a slice, you understand completely. The meringue-topped varieties are piled with 6 inches of cloudlike meringue, and the apple pie made me swear off my hatred for apple pie instantly. The real kicker was the peanut butter pie, creamy and eggy and rich and delish. A very sweet ending.