Leaving San Antonio, we drove through the back roads of the Texas hill country to the little town of La Grange in the heart of Tex-Czech country.
This part of Texas was heavily settled by immigrants from Czechs and Slovaks from Bohemia, Moravia, and Silesia in the mid-nineteenth century. They have left a lasting impact on Texas culture, including of course (with the German settlers), a legacy of music that, with the added influences of Black and Mexican music traditions, eventually produced western swing and Tejano music, from Joe Patek and Adolph Hofner to Flaco Jimenez and Selena.
I wanted to visit the Texas Czech Heritage and Cultural Center in La Grange, but of course it was closed on Monday.
But the was this beautiful example of middle European architecture-- the La Grange City Hall.
Texas is quite a diverse state, in spite of its red tendencies. We stopped for lunch in Katy, a suburb of Houston, and found a brand-new food center featuring at least a dozen Asian restaurants--Chinese, Vietnamese, Korean. We settled on Phat Eatery, which specializes in Malaysian street food.
The chef is a 2022 James Beard Award Semi-Finalist and the food was excellent. We had salt and pepper calamari and Kerabu prawns with pickled green papaya and mango, peanuts, and toasted black sesame in a tangy sauce.
Next stop: Galveston Island on the Gulf of Mexico.
I rediscovered the Gulf. The water was cool and refreshing.
O enjoyed the fresh south wind.
We visited the Galveston County Historical Museum. It has a great exhibit on the devastating flood of 1900, still the most destructive natural disaster in US history. With winds put to 140 miles per hour and a storm surge of over 15 feet, a hurricane struck the town, killing over 6,000 residents and destroying over 3,400 buildings.
Isaac Cline was the chief of the fledgling US Weather Service in Galveston at the time. He tried to warn of the impending storm, but no one would listen. O and I both read Erik Larsen's book, "Isaac's Storm," which recounts the tragedy in detail, so we were quite interested in seeing the museum.
The museum also had many artifacts from the rest of Galveston's history. These Kodak Brownie box cameras were manufactured until 1921. My dad had one and it became my first camera.
There is also a small paleontological section. I was quite taken by the Hell Pig.
We drove out to the far east end of the island and watched the shipping head out to sea.
These sassy long-tailed blackbirds were everywhere, showing the lowly gulls and pigeons who's boss.
Galveston has probably the most extensive inventory of Victorian homes in the country. We cruised up and down the neighborhoods gawking at the beautiful structures.
Many of them show signs of neglect. Still lovely, though.
Back in the day, Galveston Bay was the only sizable cargo port between New Orleans and Vera Cruz. Much of the cargo needed to sustain the country's western expansion came through here, making Galveston the largest and richest port in the US.
The tall ship Elissa is a reminder of those days.
That evening we celebrated our visit with a bowl of excellent gumbo and the largest oyster po'boy ever. Seriously, the thing must have had at least 20 deliciously crispy oysters in it.
And look at the perfect ice cap on that martini!
The next morning, as the sun rose over the Pleasure Pier, we started the long drive to the Big Easy.
Rather than head inland through Beaumont, we elected to stick to the back roads along the Gulf Coast. Starting with a ferry from Galveston to the Bolivar Peninsula.
The 8:00 ferry pulls away from the dock. The ferry runs every hour 24/7. And it's free.
And there's the ferry from Bolivar on its way back.
It was great being on the water, even for just a half-hour ride. Just in that short time we saw a porpoise.
We stopped in Port Arthur for breakfast. Edith's Place is a Black-owned business that has garner good reviews for soul food. Unfortunately, that's lunch. Breakfast was kinda meh.
Loved the murals, though. It looks like Procter Avenue where Edith's is located was a happening spot in the '50s.
Not so much these days. We saw this kind on decay all over Texas outside the big cities. I can understand how seeing the remnants of what was compared to desolation of the present, day in and day out, breeds grievance. Which is fertile soil for fascism.
Especially when there's a whole media ecosystem dedicated to blaming that decay on certain types of people, rather than the elites who have rigged the system for their own benefit.
Anyway.
Our drive along the coast was accompanied by flights of pelicans.
The Bolivar peninsula is flat and flood-prone. So everything here is built on stilts against the inevitable storm surge.
There were times when the road, protected by a seawall, was actually lower than the waterway.
Kind of eerie to pass a huge tanker sailing by above you.
Everywhere there are refineries flaring off the excess petroleum byproducts.
Another ferry took us to Cameron, Louisiana.
The ten-minute ride was accompanied by lots of birds.
I was expecting the coastal bayous of Cajun country to be jungly and swampy. Instead, there were miles and miles of flat marshland, filled with birdlife.
The roadside were filled with spring flowers.
New Orleans waited patiently at the end of our long drive.
We checked into our B&B in the lower Garden District (a funky old house in a funky, friendly, lovely old neighborhood, a little worse for wear, but with comfortable bones).
Then we let the revels commence.
Toup's Meatery is the kind of restaurant big cities do well these days: casual neighborhood places headed by chefs with a vision.
As you probably guessed, the vision of the chef at Toup's involves meat.
With porky goodness high on the list.
This drink is called the Pork Chop and Apple. A different take on an Old-Fashioned in combines pork-fat-washed whiskey with cinnamon-infused apple bitters. I usually don't like bourbon-based drinks. They're a bit too sweet for my taste. But this was pretty good.
I love cassoulet.
I have been lucky enough to have sampled it in its original home--Carcassone in southern France. I've savored the excellent version at Le Central in SF, and tried many other versions in many other places. Hell, I've even made a pretty credible version myself.
Well, other than the OG Carcassone version, this is probably the best cassoulet I've ever eaten. The beans have been simmered a very long time in a very rich, deeply-flavored stock, the garlic sausage is savory and succulent, the duck confit is crispy-skinned and meltingly juicy. And the seared foie gras topper puts it over the top.
It is such a rare pleasure to eat a dish that is prepared by a chef who obviously understands and is passionately committed to extracting the ultimate savor from all the ingredients.
O had a chopped salad with lump crab that was light and perfectly dressed. Everything was excellently prepared.
As we walked back to our car, we were struck by the beauty of the huge oak trees that have grown up along the streets all over the city.
Magical.
P.
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