Thanksgiving is a day that, among other things, our entire nation uses as an excuse to gorge ourselves. It's in that spirit that I write about my most recent visit to the Lone Star State.
After last week's
successful deer hunting trip, I met my parents in San Antonio for a brief 24 hours. On the way from San Antonio to Fredericksburg, we stopped at
Rudy's Barbecue, something of a legend in those parts for quality 'cue. I hadn't eaten there since college (many more years ago than I care to admit), and my memories were fond.
I opted for the "beef" (also called brisket or sliced beef, or any combination thereof). It was outstanding -- smoky, tender, and not a bit dry. Wedged between two slices of stick-to-the-roof-of-your-mouth Wonderbread, slathered in sauce, it was heaven. In my opinion, sliced beef defines Texas barbecue, and you won't get much better than Rudy's. Appropriately enough, Rudy's is also housed in a convenience store and gas station -- not unlike
my K.C. favorite, Oklahoma Joe's. Coincidence? I think not.
That evening, my parents and I attended the Gillespie County Wild Game Dinner at the fairgrounds. And good thing, because I'm sure it attracted well over 500 attendees. What a hoot! For 20 bucks, you were entitled to every kind of wild critter under the sun, as well as an open bar that served Pilsner Urquell on tap and
Becker Reserve Cabernet.
But the real belle of the ball was the dinner. It was served buffet style from seven stations, and I had everything from axis venison chili to smoked wild turkey to chicken fried scimitar oryx. And it was all good (which can't always be said for some wild game feeds). Most notable? Not a vegetable in sight! (Of course, back when I lived in the Lone Star State, I quickly learned that a Texan's idea of vegetables typically includes pinto beans, mashed potatoes, and corn.)
After the dinner, there was a huge live auction that featured tons o' guns, hunting trips, and various assorted Texana. It was a quick trip, but uniquely Texan nonetheless.
I opted for the "beef" (also called brisket or sliced beef, or any combination thereof). It was outstanding -- smoky, tender, and not a bit dry. Wedged between two slices of stick-to-the-roof-of-your-mouth Wonderbread, slathered in sauce, it was heaven. In my opinion, sliced beef defines Texas barbecue, and you won't get much better than Rudy's. Appropriately enough, Rudy's is also housed in a convenience store and gas station -- not unlike my K.C. favorite, Oklahoma Joe's. Coincidence? I think not.
Well Scampwalker, we had fun showing you the fun we have on a weekly basis in the "Burg".
ReplyDeleteTime was short, but we had a blast with you!
You wrote about it perfectly.