“If you eat too many of these things, it could very well be your last meal.” -John Kelso
The Bride looked concerned.
“Are you picking up Manske rolls today?” she asked.
I tried to read her face. “I can certainly make that happen,” I said.
She was quiet for several long moments. She gazed into my eyes.
“I don’t want them in my house,” she said.
“They’re that good?” I said.
She bit her lip and looked down. “Only get one,” she said.
“On Fridays, when you buy one, you get one free,” I said.
“One,” she said.
“That’s a sin,” I said. “And I don’t want to go to hell.”
Yep. Them Manske rolls are that good!
Manskes are served from the oldest operating restaurant in San Marcos, Gil’s (nee Manske’s) Broiler on North LBJ. Sometime in the 1950s*,**, Roland and Ruth Manske started Manske’s Grill and conjured their large cinnamon rolls from leftover dinner roll dough. These plate-sized curls of delight became known as Manske rolls. In 1966, the Manske’s sold the restaurant to Gil Rainosec who renamed the place Gil’s Broiler. But Gil kept the popular Manske Roll on the menu.
In 1999, Gil sold the joint to the affable Ruben Becerra who promised to keep the ovens burning for the Manskes. That led to ill-fated plans to up production and distribution with a stand-alone Manske company, but the operation went bankrupt in 2002. That brought the Manskes back to where they belonged: in the back of Gil’s.
My first Manske experience was not a good one. I visited Gil’s, ordered a burger, fries, an iced tea, and a Manske and sat down. The burger and fries arrived, but no Manske. After swallowing the beef and taters, I waited for the Manske. No Manske. I approached the counter to remind them that I had ordered a Manske, and they handed me one cradled inside a clear-plastic clam shell. I went back to my table, popped open the clam, carved off a bite, put it in my mouth, and thought “WTF.” It was awful.
I shared my assessment with a San Martian at the office, and he responded as if I had urinated on Davy Crockett’s grave while whistling Santa Anna’s marching hymn. After I provided more details, my friend said, “Dude! You have to warm them up!” Apparently, the first words the locals coo from their cribs are “Mama!”, “Papa!”, and “Warm the Manske for 30 seconds in the microwave!” So I decided to give them rolls another run.
Heat makes the sun burn, heat allows us to exist on this planet, and heat ignites the magic of the Manskes. Hitting those babies with 30 seconds of microwaves (or while warming up the oven to 300 [our preference]) turns an ugly duckling of tough and congealed into a delicious gooey mess of swan-y swankiness. In fact, the directions order you to not only allow them to cool (if you pick them up and they are still warm) but to put ’em the fridge for a bit before bringing them back life. Another remarkable thing about the rolls is that they’re all natural and vegan (thus requiring the special treatment). And yet another remarkable thing is that each one will only set you back three bucks.
The broiler grills up (smashed?) burgers that are old skool greasy and pretty decent and the fries are exceptional. I’ve tried the Gil-A-Monster (St. Louis dressing, tomato, grilled onions; $4) with a small fries ($2). I’ve also tried a double-patty burger ($6) and the Gil-A-Chick (fried chicken strip; $6). But in the end, it’s the magical Manskes that keep ’em coming back. Just make sure to warm ’em up!
Gil’s Broiler & Manske Roll Bakery, 328 N LBJ Dr, San Marcos, Texas, (512) 878-8888
* It’s unclear exactly when Manske’s Grill started. One source reported “1950” while others state “1940s.” I wasn’t able to find the exact date, but, according to old phone directories, Roland Manske didn’t move to town until 1953, and his grill wasn’t listed. My on-line source for old San Marcos phone books went dry after 1953 (but I’ll be at the library soon, so I may refine this date then).
** I reviewed old phone books filed at the San Marcos library. The first mention of the “Manske Grill” appears in March 1954 located at 608 North Austin Street (this location later burned down and the business moved; Austin Street was later renamed LBJ Drive). The grill is listed in the white pages, but not the yellow pages, which apparently required a fee. I suppose it’s possible that Manske’s Grill existed before it was listed, but I’m gonna run with the grill firing up sometime in 1953 through early 1954.
———–
November 2024 update: I tried a double burger and, yo, that’s the way to go!
————-
austin wanderlist 