have enjoyed a rise in national popularity. For years a traditional favorite on South Texas ranches where they originated, it wasn't until the 1980s that a nationwide fascination with regional dishes and Mesquite grilling combined to spread the word all over the state and eventually the rest of the country. A Dallas chain, On the Border, has preached the fajita gospel well beyond the Red River, into 27 states and as far north as Michigan.
Texas also gets credit for several modern Tex-Mex innovations. Whether you love 'em or loathe 'em, ballpark nachos (melted processed cheese poured over tortilla chips with optional pickled jalapeño slices) originated at the Texas Rangers home field in Arlington and are now served all over the country. And the popularity of fruit slush drinks catapulted the classic Mexican cocktail, the margarita, into the frozen drink limelight.
Johnny's Mexican Restaurant in San Antonio is famous for its cabrito—a delicacy of tender young goat meat traditionally prepared in an earth pit oven.
Frankly, it's utterly impossible not to find good Tex-Mex just about anywhere in Texas, although the closer you get to the border, the more likely it is you'll find something authentic and fresh. If you can't find it, just ask around. Every Texan claims to be an authority on where to get the best. At least you know you'll be getting one expert's opinion.
New tires and delicious barbecue, sold in one place. The slow-smoked beef brisket is a specialty.
Where's the Beef?
Chili, butt rubs, and big buns
by Caroline Stuart
Where's the beef? Texas has it! Beef and the backyard grill are practically sacred in the state, and a barbecue is the cornerstone for countless social gatherings. Politicians use barbecues as platforms for delivering campaign promises, and hosts of family reunions use them to ensure a good time had by all. Larger-than-life, cattle-baron-style events are still held, too, and any or no excuse at all will guarantee a crowd, whether the occasion is a church supper or the Fourth of July. But barbecues are not limited to large functions; it's practically mandatory for a Texan to be able to cook outside at home, and most Texans seem to have an insatiable craving to do just that. The many warm months make it possible to move the kitchen to the patio.
The word barbecue is commonly used to refer to the simple process of cooking outdoors. But the methods vary wildly, depending on whether the food is over a charcoal or a wood fire or on a gas grill. Grilling food over a hot wood fire is the oldest method of cooking. Nowadays, the wood fire takes the form of prepared charcoal chunks, or briquets. Grilling is a fast and effective way to cook, but little additional flavor is obtained, especially for quick cooking items. Smoking—that is, cooking in a pit barbecue or wood smoker—uses the heat and smoke of hardwood chips to cook meats slowly, gradually infusing them with the smoky taste real barbecue lovers demand.
The Mikeska brothers—or Barbecue Brothers, as they have come to be known—are meat-on-the-grill connoisseurs. Each of them owns their own barbecue restaurant, in six different areas of the state.
Every self-respecting outdoor cook has his or her own favorite method, temperature, times, rubs, sauces, woods, and specialties, the merits of which are often hotly debated. After the smoking process, some folks season their meat with a rub, a mixture of dried herbs and spices that is massaged into the meat before it is cooked, producing a wonderfully flavorful crust. Rub recipes are limited only by your imagination; sauces and mops are much the same. There are as many secret recipes for sauces as there are folks doing the barbecuing, but among the folks who prefer to add sauce, the tomato-based varieites predominate. Nearly everyone, however, agrees on the requisite accompaniments. Simply put, no barbecue would be complete without baked beans, coleslaw, and corn bread or that thickly sliced, crispy Texas toast. But a slice of white loaf bread will do just fine.
City Market Barbecue, located in Schulenburg, is famous for its jalapeño sausage, and is credited with its invention.
Year-round, you'll find good old-fashioned fun at Texas barbecue festivals or cook-offs. Just look for smoke, and follow your nose to the pits and pit meisters who start tending their smokers before daybreak. Soon, you'll join other barbecue fanatics, hundreds or even thousands, who travel great distances for the lip-smacking taste of long-cooked ribs, mopped chicken, highly seasoned sausage, and the piece de resistance, dry-rubbed brisket of beef.
Beef at its most basic—the hamburger—has had a secure spot in the hearts of Americans for years. Several states have claimed its invention, but Texas insists that it originated here in the 1880s, and Texan Fletcher Davis introduced it at the St. Louis World's Fair in 1904. Regardless, Texans love their hamburgers, and burgers served in Texas can pack in as much as twelve ounces of ground beef. The ideal hamburger is grilled crisp on the outside and juicy on the inside. Piled high with layers of cheese, lettuce, tomato, onion, and pickle, and anointed with mustard or mayonnaise, it makes a good meal with a casual Texas attitude.
Beef has a long history in Texas. In 1893, Amarillo's population was "between 500 and 600 people and 50,000 head of cattle." It is used in countless dishes. Indeed, some surveys tell us that hundreds of thousands of the popular specialty known as chicken-fried steak (battered and fried steak) are eaten every day in Texas. Tex-Mex food showcases beef in beef-filled tacos al carbon, and in El Paso the signature dish is shredded brisket salpicon salad.
The Lone Star State works its charm on visitors, many of whom regularly succumb to buying a pair of cowboy boots and tucking into a big steak dinner or rack of ribs before crossing back over the border. Competition among barbecue joints is fierce—you can't drive far in the state without passing one. They're usually modest places where you eat from paper or plastic plates and sit at wooden picnic tables in the shade. But beef and barbecue are subjects passionate enough to make hearts flutter. So who knows, maybe those visitors won't leave Texas after all. Many don't.
Barbecue pork ribs are the specialty of the day at the Mt. Zion Missionary Baptist Church Barbecue in Huntsville.
Around the State
Creative chefs are redefining Texas cuisine
by Dotty Griffith
Texas chefs are a wild bunch. Many wear cowboy boots in the kitchen. Some strum guitars when they're not working. But all take dead aim at preparing food that is as imaginative and as distinctive as they are. Texas first showed up on the nation's culinary radar screen in the 1980s, when Dean Fearing, Stephan Pyles, and Robert Del Grande spearheaded the Southwestern cuisine movement. Their paths have since diverged in recent years. Dean Fearing, with several books and a television series to his credit, continues as executive chef of Rosewood Hotels and The Mansion on Turtle Creek in Dallas. His signature Southwestern cuisine is sublime.
Stephan Pyles detoured from the "new Texas cuisine" road when he opened Dallas' "global seafood" restaurant, AquaKnox. Later he joined forces with Carlson Restaurants Worldwide (parent company of T.G.I. Friday's), which put him on the trail of expansion, soon opening Star Canyon in Dallas. Now he's part of the chef stampede to Las Vegas, where he has opened a second Star Canyon. Also busy with books and television, Pyles is developing a casual, relatively inexpensive Mexican taco bar concept, called Canonita.
