I’ve been in Texas for four days, I have had more beef than I usually have in two months, and I find myself inexplicably feeling rather Texan.
People I’ve met here—from the salesclerk in the Origins store in El Paso to the sweet 21-year-old waitress at the Hotel Limpia here in Fort Davis—have been warm, friendly, helpful. Happy to talk. Not in a rush. The food is great, but I now have to begin a serious exercise program because I feel I’m getting fatter by the moment.
Lunch the other day, at the Chuck Wagon in Fort Davis, was a BBQ beef sandwich (I tried a bit of all three sauces: sweet, original, and hot, all three of which I think were homemade and quite delicious), BBQ beans, fries, and coleslaw. And a mason jar full of sweet tea. Yeah, I’m going southern. I like it. But I may explode from food. Dinner was at Hotel Limpia: burgundy roast beef with gravy on the side, three buttermilk biscuits (with real butter, of course), green beans, corn, and cream cheese mashed potatoes. OMG! Excellent. And whew!
They do say to feed a cold, right? Because then I’m doing the right thing, because I am fighting a cold that just refuses to let go. And I’m sure as hell feeding it…. (Hmmm, maybe it’s “feed a fever….”) Maybe I need more jalapeños!
Did I mention friendly? Because this morning at breakfast, a Mr. Rueben Sanchez chatted me up and explained that I should move to Fort Davis. You see, he isn't married either.... I love Texas!
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