What intrigued us about Farmhouse was that (1) they're local and (2) they team up with local farmers and restaurants within a 50-mile radius of Austin.
It's a great summer drink in that is served fridge-cold, has low alcohol, and is lo-brow where no-one will quietly judge you for putting ice cubes in it.
As the pandemic continues, I worry more and more about our chow slingers.
The Vodkadora was simply amazing. Every sip was a smile and a reminder of the better knots in this mortal coil.
As far as I know, there are no black-owned restaurants in Allandale proper or in the immediate stomach-hood. So instead, the bride and I partook of a baker’s half-dozen of black-owned restaurants in North Austin.
We first partook of croissants the size of fallen boulders on Hwy 82. Complemented with lattes from Black Bear Coffee down the board, Kennabelle's kroissants were a perfect harmony of a crispy-buttery exterior with a soft-as-a-mountain-meadow insides.
The bread bowl, created by slicing off the top of a monkey-head sized loaf of sourdough and carving out the innards, is perfectly crunchy on the outside and soft on the inside (but dense enough to not get soppy). The bread perfectly complements the thick, flavorful chowder.
I adore Dorothy Parker, the sassy satirical writer of 1920s New York, so we had to stop in to eat at the Algonquin Hotel last year to see the infamous round table where Dorothy and a number of notable friends held daily court during lunch starting in 1919.
Nathan expertly grinds out good-uns using New Mexican artisan roasters, turning the Bear into a morning mountain must-stop.
The earthy wriggles of crispy hash browns and coffee-and-cream gravy adorned with clouds of egg whites and snowy asadero, a dawn of sunny yolk, motts of scallions, red onions pickled purple, and the plum perfection of amarnth microgreens all atop a hazy gray plate itself atop a blushing picnic table still takes my breath away.