A Little Something Extra For The Texas Hill Country

The counties of the Texas Hill Country are about as different from the swamp parishes of Louisiana as anything could possibly be. While the climate of southern Louisiana is hot and rainy, the climate of the hill country of Texas is also hot, but drier. Some swamp parishes of Louisiana are below sea level, while the counties of central Texas are many hundreds of feet above the sea. The parishes of southern Louisiana are historically French in origin. On the other hand, the most recent historical and cultural origins of the hill country of Texas are mostly Spanish, Mexican, and German.

There are other differences as well. The swamps of Louisiana have alligators. The hills of Texas have scorpions. Cordgrass is native to Louisiana, while prickly pear cactus is native to Texas. Traditional music in southern Louisiana consists of jazz, blues, and zydeco. Traditional music in the hill country is a mix of German, Tejano, regional Mexican, country, and, of course, the diverse music found in and around Austin. The traditional foods are different as well. Louisiana food includes boudin, fried oysters, and gumbo while Texas food includes beef brisket, chicken-fried steak, and tacos.

However, Seth Hudson, owner of Parrain’s Louisiana Kitchen in Jonestown, Texas, has it about right. He says it best, when he correctly points out, that despite the differences, the swamps of Louisiana and the hills of Texas do have something in common, and that, he says, is “water.” Hudson says that the hill country lakes remind him of Louisiana. And this explains how a restaurant serving excellent Louisiana cuisine ended up in a very small town in the Texas Hill Country.

Seth Hudson is originally from Louisiana and moved here with his father, but like many people who visit hill country, he “fell in love with Austin,” and ended up staying. But just because he likes his new home in Texas, doesn’t mean he forgot about Louisiana, or, the importance of both his family and the traditional food of his youth.  As a result, Parrain’s Louisiana Kitchen on the north shore of Lake Travis is a product of both.

Seth is a friendly and engaging man, who is proud of the fact that he creates most everything from scratch. Initially, he opened a small deli in Jonestown. But after only 9 months, the positive response he received caused him to look for larger quarters. He liked Jonestown, so he quickly located a place right across the road next to the Lone Star Bar, but it needed work. Seth and his family completely gutted the existing building, and personally rebuilt the space. Concerned about the environment, and the preservation of natural resources, Seth sold an old automobile to raise money for the recycled wood he wanted to use in the construction. The large wood support beams, for example, are over 100 years old.

About 3 months ago, when the building was completed, Seth Hudson and his Parrain’s Louisiana Kitchen welcomed customers to the new location. The construction efforts of Seth and his family were a success. The atmosphere is cozy and laid-back, with ceiling fans swirling gently overhead to tamp down the Texas heat. In short, it is a perfect spot to enjoy some Louisiana cooking.

In Seth Hudson’s mind, building something from scratch neither begins nor ends with a construction site. Like the building in which he serves his food, he creates his menu offerings in much the same way, from the ground up. His crawfish are brought in fresh from Louisiana, and his oysters are from Aransas Bay on the gulf coast of Texas. Many of his menu creations are homemade, including the sausage. And, he uses gluten-free corn meal. While the food offerings are not fancy, the menu at Parrain’s Louisiana Kitchen is both Louisiana focused and very delicious.

Seth Hudson

The menu has all the items you would normally expect from a restaurant serving up fine Louisiana cuisine, including, gumbo, etouffee, boudin, andouille, catfish, shrimp, Po’ Boy sandwiches, and fresh and fried oysters. But, Seth Hudson has a little secret. In the back, between the building and the parking lot, there is a covered barbecue pit, where he smokes turkey breast, pork loin, and sausages over a fire fueled by pecan wood. He also has another little secret; his sister is the head chef.

My problem, when visiting restaurants serving up Louisiana cooking, is always deciding what to order, because, I want it all. I always wish that one of these places would come up with a “sampler,” so I could satisfy all my Cajun and Creole cravings on a single plate. But, in lieu of that dream, I usually go with the Po’ Boy, at least during lunch, and I normally order it with either shrimp or oysters packed inside.

On the day I visited Seth’s place, I went with the shrimp, and I was delighted, because there were a lot of shrimp, and each and every one of them was delicious. The fried shrimp on my sandwich were hot, lightly breaded, and not greasy. Other diners that day, including my wife and son, were enjoying another selection, the “Wild Card Basket,” where you choose your meat, and add a side of fries or slaw. Specials are also available, and, on the day we visited, the special was boiled crawfish, with potato and corn. And, if you so desire, you can enjoy a glass of fine wine or beer with your meal. It was all very good, but, my family, including myself, were too stuffed after our meal to try any of the bread pudding or pecan pie for dessert.

In Louisiana, they have a special word for a small unexpected gift, or a little something extra a merchant might give to a customer, and that word is “lagniappe."  The swamp parishes of Louisiana are a long way away from the hills of Texas, but that doesn’t stop Seth Hudson and his family from giving a lagniappe every single day to the citizens of Jonestown and the surrounding area, and that gift is Parrain’s Louisiana Kitchen.



With Respect To Mexican Food, I’m Fickle

First of all, I'm in love with Mexican food, but I’m fickle. The problem isn’t that I like it but don’t want to eat it all that often. I’d eat it every day if it was possible and practicable for me to do so. Also, I’m not one of those who like some of it, but not all of it. I like it all. My problem is that I can’t decide which Mexican restaurant in the Texas Hill Country I like best. Well, that’s not true. I can decide, and I do decide, but I change my mind nearly every day. That’s where my fickleness with respect to Mexican food comes into play. It’s not exactly true, but it seems that the “best” Mexican restaurant for me nearly always seems to be the last one I visited.

Given its relatively close proximity to Mexico, and the important influence that Mexican-Americans play in the region, the fact is that there are really no disappointing Mexican restaurants in the hill country. On the contrary, and, in my opinion, they are all very authentic, and all very good. Of course, I’m not Mexican-American, so my credibility to judge what authentic Mexican food is or isn’t may be questioned, but I do the best I can. Given the sheer number of places serving up Mexican food, it would be impossible to for me to actually visit them all, let alone do any kind of subjective or objective rating. So, I won’t try, and neither should you. You’ll just have to take my word for which one is best, and, continue to take my word for which one is best in the future. But, as I’ve already warned you, I change my mind from time to time. We’ll, that is not exactly true either. I change my mind very frequently.

My latest favorite place has been hiding from me in plain sight for years, and is just over in Leander, Texas. As in the past, my wife had to steer me away from my natural inclination to return to the haunts of previous “best” places, and try something new. Quite some time ago, a friend of my wife had told her about this great Mexican restaurant in Leander, but my wife didn’t remember what the name of the place was, or, just where it was located in Leander. That part didn’t bother me too much, because Leander isn’t all that big, and I’m fairly good with finding my way around places. And, like most men, I pride myself in doing it without asking anyone for directions, and I can’t be bothered with GPS devices.

Later, after driving around Leander for a half hour or so, and, after heeding my wife’s advice, I pulled the vehicle over and asked someone for directions to a Mexican restaurant whose name I didn’t know. Apparently, everyone in the hill country knows about this place but me, because even after giving a half-assed and extremely vague description of it, I got clear directions, and we quickly found the place. In my defense, I’m quite sure that within another 45 minutes, I would have located it without needing the assistance of others. We might not have been there in time for lunch, but we surely would have arrived for dinner. And, let me remind you that I’m only writing here about Mexican food, not what meal of the day I’d be eating it.

The restaurant at the end of our search, or as Texans say, at the end of our trail, is a place called Jardin Del Rey. Conveniently located (I can say that now that I found it) on Highway 183 in Leander, right by the Post Office (see, I’ve done all the hard work for you), it sits back off the road a bit, but is clearly marked by a huge multi-colored road sign right on the highway which clearly states, “Jardin Del Rey Mexican Restaurant.” I can’t believe I missed it after driving by it 3 or 4 times. I must have been distracted by my wife telling me to stop somewhere and ask for directions. Yes, I’m quite sure that was the issue now that I’ve had time to reflect upon it all.

Jardin Del Rey, is impressive, and at least for now, is clearly my favorite. Starting with lots of parking in the front , back, and side of the building, there is no doubt that friendly, prompt, and courteous service dictates the whole experience from the time you pull off the highway coming in until the time you pull onto the highway going back out.

The interior of the restaurant was clean, colorful, and festive, with a lot of booths. Booths seem to be an important seating choice in all restaurants these days. It’s a little strange when you think about it. People want to go out and eat among others, in a public place, but would prefer a booth where they are somewhat hidden and separated from the other people eating there, but, I’m getting a little bit off target.

After requesting our booth, we were quickly seated. Immediately thereafter, warm chips and salsa were placed in front of us. The salsa was spicier than at most places, but not overly so, and it was freshened with the taste of fresh chopped cilantro. During the course of our meal, my wife and I went through two servings of chips and salsa, which should tell you that we liked it quite a bit. Normally we hold back on a second serving, so as to have enough room for the meal. But on this occasion, we made an exception to our “hold back” rule and made that second round of chips and salsa disappear in a hurry.

Jardin Del Rey’s menu offers a lot of food choices, and those choices are inexpensive. There are breakfast plates, lunch specials, and a wide selection of appetizers, enchiladas, platters, plates, caldos y ensaladas, and especialidades. As with most Mexican restaurants, many side orders are available at Jardin Del Rey, and include Mexican rice, Chile con queso, frijoles charros, refried beans, as well as other selections.

Passing up on any appetizers, we ordered our lunch while munching on the chips and salsa. My wife ordered the Soft Taco Mexican Plate, and went with the beef tacos instead of the chicken. They were served with pico de gallo, sour cream, and rice and beans. I opted for the Chile Rellano, which is always a gamble depending upon the restaurant where they are served. In a lot of places around the rest of the country, this food order would have resulted in a small, shriveled, and miserly stuffed Chile pepper being served up. Not so at Jardin Del Rey, where I got an unbelievably large Poblano pepper with the stem still attached, generously stuffed with beef and cheese, and served with guacamole, pico de gallo, rice and beans, and an order of soft warm tortillas. I have to tell you, if you like cheese like I do, you really need to visit this place. The cheese was hot and melted, and literally poured out of the pepper along with the beef when I cut into it with my fork. And, to top it all off, the pepper was covered with a liberal amount of cheese, and salsa.

With the great food and outstanding service at Jardin Del Rey’s in Leander, Texas, there is absolutely no doubt in my mind that this is the best Mexican restaurant in the Texas Hill Country. Well, at least it is until the next time I head out in search of Mexican food.

The Clash Of Cultures And The Webster Massacre

Historically, the Comanche did not make many friends, even among fellow Native Americans. The Comanche were a force to be reckoned with, however, for hundreds of years in what is now the American West and Mexico.

Skilled with horses, the Comanche were both proficient traders and brave warriors. The Comanche traded and fought with a host of diverse people and political powers from around 1700 until the late 1800’s, but were finally overwhelmed by the expansion of the United States as it pushed west.

One of the most famous and bloody clashes involving the Comanche occurred in Texas in 1839 (the exact date is disputed). The Webster family, along with some traveling companions, left Virginia for a new life in the West. While heading through Texas, they were attacked by Comanche warriors along Brushy Creek, in what is now Williamson County, just east of present day Leander, Texas.

The attack left all the men in John Webster’s party dead. Webster's wife and two children, one boy and one girl, were captured. The wife and daughter later escaped, and his son was safely ransomed. This was a happy ending, perhaps, to a not so happy confrontation between two very different cultures.

Although John Webster lost his life in the Comanche raid in 1839, his daughter, who survived the attack but was captured, lived until the age of 93, before passing away in California in 1927. The last Comanche warriors finally surrendered to authorities in the 1870’s.

While many pioneers continued to move west to eventually establish the western boundry of the United States in California, most of the remaining Comanche eventually settled in Oklahoma. During World War II, like the Navajo code talkers who befuddled the Japanese military, and made such an important contribution to this country in the Pacific, the Comanche code talkers were equally important in Europe confusing the German military.

The violent struggles in Texas of long ago, which helped produce events like the Webster Massacre, emanated from collisions of much different cultures. Today, the victims of the massacre lie peacefully in a common grave in a cemetery along the eastern edge of the hill country, a mile or so due east of Leander.

Austin Is Still Waiting For The Golden Spike

The Texas Hill Country is a positive place, so, my observations and commentary are most nearly always positive. But, as a historian, there are times when I have to “pull back on the reins,” and call things as I see them.

It was in 2004, when the voters of Austin, Texas, approved spending money to authorize a short thirty mile rail line to carry commuters from Leander south to downtown Austin. I won’t even get into the money spent, and the fact that the hours the train will run are basically just during rush times and nothing more. And, despite the fact the train is not even running yet, there has already been a fare increase. In my humble opinion, something is “asleep at the switch.”

As an observer, and commentator, here is what I have to offer on the matter. With apologies to the mysterious author Watty Piper, if he, she, or it really ever existed, the Austin rail project is The Little Engine That Could Not. Despite the fact that the actual rail was already in place, given that it is an existing freight line, it is now December 2009, coming up on two years since the original scheduled opening, and nearly six years after the vote, and still no train is running.

As a historian, here is what I have to offer on the matter. The Transcontinental Railroad, a span of over a thousand miles, was built in just six years between Iowa and California. There was no existing track, it was started in the midst of our momentous Civil War, and the engineering and logistical challenges across the frontier were enormous, especially over the Sierra Nevada Mountains.

As an observer, commentator, and historian, here is what I have to offer on the matter. Both the Austin Rail project and the Transcontinental Railroad took six years to complete. The Transcontinental Railroad was built from scratch and covered over a thousand miles. The Austin Rail project used an existing rail line and covered a little more than thirty miles. The Transcontinental Railroad spanned the Great Plains and mountain ranges. The Austin Rail project, well, to be kind, did not.

To sum it all up, in my humble opinion, if the Austin powers to be, were in charge of getting the Transcontinental Railroad built, we’d still be waiting, over 140 years later, for the golden spike to be driven into the rail bed in Promontory Summit, Utah. The circumstances speak for themselves.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m all for the commuter rail. But, I would like to see the hours expanded, once this darn thing gets running, if it ever does. In any event, get that “golden spike” driven into the ground. In the meantime, we’re all waiting. The deserted passenger platforms, from Leander to downtown Austin, look a little sad at this point.

There Is A Story Behind Everything, Even If It Remains Nameless

I’ve driven past the intersection of FM 1431 and Nameless Road in the Texas Hill Country too many times to count. I used to chuckle when I drove past, figuring it was just one of those roads that never got an official name for one reason or another, and by default, the local officials just called it “Nameless.” I couldn’t have been more wrong.

Curiosity finally got the better of me; I did some research and then took a drive up the road. What I discovered, is that Nameless Road runs by a now-deserted little settlement. The interesting story behind this settlement, and the road that runs by it (or through it), is, of course, how it got its unusual name.

The area was settled along the banks of Big Sandy Creek just after the conclusion of the American Civil War. The small, but thriving community, eventually petitioned the United States Post Office Department for a post office in 1880. The settlement, then known as Fairview, had its original name rejected. Five other attempts to get a post office using other names were also rejected. It seems that government bureaucracy was alive and well in the 1880’s.

Eventually, the exasperated citizens of the settlement sent the officials in Washington, D.C., an extremely strong message. In their response to the latest rejection of a recommended name, the notice sent was very clear, “Let the post office be nameless and be damned.” How typical of Texas was the response. There are a great many people in Texas today, I would guess, who would send the federal government the same response.

Well, apparently, that was all it took. Our country’s 19th century postal service then agreed that the settlement’s post office should be called, “Nameless,” but dutifully left off the “damned” part.

Whatever the name, the settlement never became the success of Austin, Dallas, El Paso, or Houston. After the ruckus over the name of the post office, the post office itself lasted not more than ten years before it was closed. The town slowly dwindled away, and with the closing of “Fairview School,” in the 1940’s, there wasn’t much left.

Today, all that remains of Nameless is the former Fairview School (renamed Nameless School), the cemetery, and the historical marker erected by the State of Texas. To access the school, its grounds, and the cemetery just off Nameless Road, I had to cross a creek, unchain a large gate and walk up a dirt road. The only other alternative, and an easier way to get in it seemed, was to walk up what appeared to be someone’s private driveway. Not in Texas am I going to do that.