I Am So Popular: Food Glorious Food!

See, as a middle child, it fell to me for years to cook for my five younger siblings. This included taking a tube of fatty ground beef once a week, rolling it out real flat between waxed paper, using the lid of a jar to cut it into circles, re-layering these with more waxed paper, freezing the results and nightly thawing and crumbling a few to mix with, say, elbow macaroni and tomato sauce for a concoction known in our house as Girl Scout Stew. Wednesdays were Hot Dog Night. Fridays—no meat, seeing as we were Catholic—meant fish sticks or tuna casserole or frozen cheese pizza. Other nights we rotated in a few veggies, always from a can. And when we did have bread, it was frozen, off-brand white bread, which we enjoyed vivisecting, balling up the innards, and biting into, making Dunkin’ Munchkins seem like some Wolfgang Puck delicacy by comparison.

I only remember eating restaurant food—if you could call it that—once. My mom was in the hospital having given birth to yet another one of us. My dad loaded the rest of us in the station wagon, bought a bag full of fast food burgers, and parked out front of the hospital, where we ate in silence as my mother, no doubt relieved at having a break from us, waved down from a window high above.

The fallout from this culinary history for me shook down many different ways. First, I started working in restaurants as soon as I could, fascinated by what had eluded me as a kid. Second, I am a fan applying ketchup. To everything. Third, I’m a PFG cook if I do say so for myself. Nothing fancy, but it usually tastes mighty fine and doesn’t involved canned or frozen ingredients. Fourth, I can’t cook for less than eleven people and when I do make something there’s always plenty of it. Because the other thing I took with me was this: if you wanted seconds, you had to eat fast and dive in before it was all gone because, at least it seemed, there was never enough. So now there’s always more than enough.

I never did shake the habits of wolfing my meals, going back for more, and wanting to have the last bite, regardless of whose plate it might happen to be on. And I never lost my fascination for eating in restaurants, even though fifteen years of food service gave me some insights into food preparation you would rather I not share, I promise you.

My home cooking has fallen off in recent years. The kid, sharing my love of restaurants, prefers that we eat out. We were having a meal at Hoover’s not so long ago, when I asked him to help me come up with a list of our favorite Austin restaurant menu items. And I am here, now, to share our secrets with you.

Before I share, let me say that there are plenty of pricey eating options that I dig. I like to go to East Side Café, Musashino (beats the hell out of Uchi), Moonshine, Asti, Enoteca, and Chez Nous. But I’m also a fan of the less expensive. And I will even go to a place because I crave one single item on the menu, an item I will order every single time, despite countless other options. What I’m here to tell you about is the stuff that’s affordable. And good. Even (sometimes) without ketchup.

Hoover’s – This place has the best lemonade in town, served in a pitcher with a straw. I could go in, have just the gingerbread biscuits and a pitcher of this stuff and die happy for less than ten bucks.

Mother’s Café — Years ago, when I lived across the alley from this place, one Sunday night they had a very loud, very late party. When I called after 1 a.m. to ask them to turn it down, the dickhead who answered the phone called me a bitch. I walked over to talk to a manager, and as I stepped in the door, the dickhead came swaggering out and, not realizing I was the phone caller, loudly declared, “I just called some bitch a bitch on the phone!” I boycotted the place for years but recently went back, dropped my grudge (partially) and fell in love with their cashew tamari dressing.

Cisco’s Bakery—We found out about the migas at Cisco’s about sixteen years ago. Ever since, this is the place we go to celebrate birthdays, good report cards, Mother’s Day, and random Sunday mornings. (They’re so old school they don’t have a website. 1511 E. Sixth)

Hill-Bert’s Berger’s— I like the Lamar location. I go there for a veggie burger, with cheese, plenty of ketchup, and a vanilla shake.

Magnolia Café —I managed the south location way back in the early nineties, left on a note more sour than half-and-half left out in the August sun, but was eventually lured back by the queso (I recommend the Magnolia Mud version with black beans, pico and avocado) and gingerbread pancakes. The voodoo fish tacos rock pretty hard, too.

Mandola’s —I plan to write a full fledged, 1500 word ode to everything this place does right someday soon. For now, go get some of their eggplant fritters. Best six bucks you’ll spend, I promise.

Chango’s —I mentioned Mag’s fish tacos. I feel sad that I eat fish, but I also can’t bear the thought of quitting. I especially rationalize the habit when the evil PMS flares and my body screams for protein. At which point I get a Maximo burrito, stuffed with grilled mahi mahi, black beans, rice and veggies on a homemade tortilla, hold the dairy.

Thai Noodles Etc. House— Near campus, hidden behind the 7-11 on the drag near 26th Street, this tucked away place is most enjoyable for how the curmudgeonly wait staff doesn’t take shit from the customers. But they sure can dish it out. Do not, I repeat, do NOT put your feet on the chair or you will be yelled at. I’m serious. I’m not going to tell you what we order here lest they see these words, recognize me by my signature dishes ordered, and ban me from the place.

East Side Pies —I’m from the Northeast originally. I know from pizza. This place makes the best pies in town and all you trolls can just shut your pieholes right now and save your flaming comments telling me I’m wrong because, no I’m not, YOU ARE if you think this is not true.

Hyde Park Bar & Grill —Famous for their fries but that’s not why I go. Wom kim peach pudding, served warm and topped with cold cream. That’s what I’m talking about, people.

Evita Botanitas —This might be Austin’s best-kept Mexican restaurant secret. Been going for at least fifteen years. Ruben and Juanita Rodriguez serve up six different kinds of hot sauce, including this black bean sour cream combo that you’ll want to rub all over your body and then lick off yourself. The seafood chile relleno is also nothing to sneeze at.

Tom’s Tabooley —I love Tom. I love his wife Bridget. I love every single thing on the menu. But the habenero dolmas are sort of dangerous. Be careful.

Clay Pit —The trick with Clay Pit is to go for Happy Hour, sit in the bar area, enjoy your bartender Dred, and wolf down two-for-one appetizers like the crab cakes, the calamari, and all sorts of naan bread.

El Chilito —I live in the ‘hood. This is an awesome hangout. Get what you want.

Tam Deli—My new favorite. Warren introduced me to the shrimp and garlic sandwich which, weighing in at under six bucks, and served on this really crusty French bread, with super fresh, bright green lettuce, is worthy of a Pulitzer for sandwiches. So much garlic. So much. No ketchup necessary. (No website. 8222 N. Lamar.)

Clementine — This is my hangout when the dogs tell me it’s time to get the hell out of the house and leave them alone for awhile. Typically I get the apricot white chocolate scone, but recently I had the PB&J panini and I wasn’t sorry.

Upper Crust Bakery— Oh. My. God. The rhubarb pie (seasonal). The cheese soup. The brioche and challah bread (only on Fridays). Best bakery in Austin.

Okay, your turn. What did I miss?

Spike Gillespie hardly ever eats white bread anymore, and when she does, it’s defrosted. She blogs regularly for LaunchPad Coworking and at www.spikeg.com. She is also head mistress for the Dick Monologues. You can email her at spike@spikeg.com to reserve seats for the October 8th show.