texas

“There is a freedom you begin to feel the closer you get to Austin, texas.”

Willie Nelson

You can drive for hours and hours, through nothing at all. Through ghost towns, abandoned gas stations and open plains. Occasionally, you’ll see a marker pointing out the double-digit population of a town you’re passing. But, that will be the only sign of life on a road that seems to stretch on to infinity.

Perhaps, somewhere in amongst this nothingness, you’ll stumble upon a place to eat or grab a drink.

It’ll, no doubt, be the type of place where you could be certain that everyone has a gun hanging off their belt. The type of place where you’d meet the real salt of the earth people that will tell you all about their world, one you’d probably never thought existed. A world of different viewpoints. Where history is not too long gone. Where horses and ranches are not just in the movies, but are still a part of day-to-day life. A world where time moves differently, where open land is in abundance, and where food is cooked low and slow.

It’s places like this where you see the true sights of the American south. The locals clad in denim, proudly wearing their Stetsons and spurs, looking like the embodiment of the lone cowboy that every child wanted to be when they grew up. The ageing band playing tunes on guitars with missing strings, foot-drums and washing boards. The pit-master sweating over the hot coals, producing the most mesmerising smells and tastes.

Most of the people here can’t fathom living elsewhere. Even if people leave when they’re younger (for college, adventure, or love) there seems to be a deep yearning to return to where it all began. To take care of your family, your people and your heritage. To take up the mantle of the family business that has been passed down from generation to generation.

They keep to traditions in a way I cannot compare. Recipes handed down through the family and repeated again and again. Procedures, techniques and equipment that were born in a time long gone. Sometimes it seems like stubbornness against practicality. They’re stuck in their ways but, for the most part, it’s for the right reasons.

It’s far from what I would consider to be my norm. But, it makes so much sense to me. If you get to eat three meals a day, be with the people you love, and be happy, what more do you need?

I’ve travelled around a lot of America and have come to realise that different parts of the country are special for very different reasons. Texas is special in its own unique way. The people are born from music and food. Yes, the chain restaurants have rolled into town, yes, the influx of money has brought in a new type of businessperson, yet, no matter where you are, you won’t be far from a catchy tune and something authentic to eat. 

After all, southern food is as American as the dollar bill. 

Chicken-fried-steak. A big bowl of chilli with cornbread to boot. A steaming bowl of collard greens. Bright orange mac-n-cheese. Buttermilk biscuits smothered in white gravy. Sweet and sticky pecan pie. These things always remind me of times spent in Texas. 

However, when eating your way through this part of the country, one thing becomes very apparent. When people were taken from West Africa and put into slavery, their location changed but their cultures did not. The ingredients available to them were different, but their recipes, techniques and traditions stayed the same. The oldest form of cooking in the US comes from this time, when the people forced into slavery were the ones cooking. These are the recipes that have been passed down through the generations. Many of the most popular dishes, ones which you would think are American through-and-through, are actually taken directly from West Africa. Gumbo, Fried Chicken, Sweet Potatoes, Cornbread Stuffing, Okra, and Shrimp n Grits are all examples of this. It is important to remember where these things came from. The history of American food is very much the history of America.

Food has always been, and always will be, the great connector. A way to put aside differences and share a moment together, taking part in something as basic, as human, as eating a meal. Even back in the times of slavery, food brought people together. The only time when slaves and their ‘masters’ would share the same table, was when a whole hog had been cooked on the BBQ.

Then, as it is now, the food of the south is to be eaten family style. Big portions, all in the middle of the table, everyone sharing and chatting. 

I believe that everybody needs a place. A place where they feel comfortable. Where they can be who they want to be. A place they can go when times get tough. A place where they are accepted for who they are, not what they look like or what they believe in. Texas will not be this place for a lot of people, however, it has become that place for me. Austin, specifically, is the place where I feel most at home.

It’s the part of Texas I love the most. A weird, very un-Texan, liberal bubble of a city, right in the heart of a deeply conservative state. A city built around live music, the outdoors, good food, good drink, love, and acceptance. Where most restaurants and bars have more seating outdoors than indoors. Where live music can be found at any time of any day. Where the artwork found on the walls of the city is the perfect reflection of the colourful locals, and the culture they have created.

It might just be my outsiders point of view, but some of the best things to eat and drink in Texas are fairly new to the state. I’m not saying that things were stagnating, but the older restaurants and bars seem to do fairly similar things. The home favourites, the sure-to-be-winners. Sure, there were the old-school pit-masters doing their thing, day in, day out, but new restaurants seemed to veer heavily towards fast food.

Then, as divisive as they may be, the hipsters arrived and began to make adjustments and improvements. Aaron Franklin brought BBQ into the hipster circle, making queueing for 5 hours a ‘cool’ thing to do, by offering free beers and turning the whole thing into a street party. The kerb outside a BBQ joint quickly became the place to be on a weekend morning. Food trucks such as Biscuits & Groovy would serve up quirky adaptations of country favourites. Pop-up restaurants would appear and disappear overnight.

And, it wasn’t just the food. The coffee culture changed as well. In a place where you could only ever get a super dark, almost burnt, filter coffee, flat whites are now on every menu. Coffee shop owners would travel to Europe, Australia and New Zealand to get a feel for what was popular, and bring those things back to the city, as well as tiny towns like Amarillo, Waco and everywhere in between.

Hipsters, city workers and cowboys all occupy the same space. They may not understand each other's ways, they may not see eye to eye on everything, but they are all there for the same reason. They are all a part of the rhythm of Austin. That thing that makes Austin what it is.

No matter the changes that are made, no matter the shifting demographics, one thing will always remain. Austinites have a deep love for what makes their city unique. No matter who they are, or what they do, they will do everything they can to keep Austin weird.

Texas is the kind of place where people just happen to have a bottle of bourbon to hand, no matter the occasion. You’ll just be chatting away, a bottle gets produced and, before you know it, it’s 5 AM, the bourbon is gone, and you’ve moved on to drinking whatever bottle has been haunting the liquor cabinet for years.

Texas is a place where I feel welcome. A place that challenges me and comforts me in equal measures.

To fall in love with Texas is one thing. To fall in love with a Texan is another. Both have happened to me, and I’m a better person for it.