We recently celebrated the annual anniversary of Kenny’s 29th birthday. Few things say “man-grub” like hot dogs, so I thought lunch at Frank Hot Dogs and Cold Beer in downtown Austin might be a fun excursion.

Well, the food was an adventure…

After all, in what alternate universe would you expect Hill Country gourmet to shack up with Windy City street fare on a single menu? However, Frank makes it work.

Snooty artisan sausages made in-house and 100% Vienna beef hot dogs shipped in from Chicago are paired with creative and traditional toppings to deliver big tastes.

A nice selection of Texas grown-up brews, and my personal favorite – the sweet sudsy local Maine Root Beer- are all on draft to wash down every bite.

And I’m not even gonna talk about the whoopie pie…

Who am I kidding? Of course I’m going to mention the whoopie pie – rounds of chocolate cake sandwiching the richest cream in the world – whoooooopie!

If the food warmed my stomach at Frank Hot Dogs and Cold Beer, the people won my heart.

The owner made time stand still during the busy lunch rush. It’s as though he blacked out the rest of the room and shone the spotlight of his attention on Kenny and me. He easily chatted with us while we waited for a table.

Why? Because he heard we were first-time guests.

A few weeks later we planned to introduce our friends to Frank.

“It’s closed for Sunday dinner!” we realized as we stood disappointed at the door peering in to the dark restaurant.  The two remaining employees saw us, opened the door and invited us in.

“Cathy! Look at all this gorgeous salvaged wood!” Our friend Bill, a fine craftsman, exclaimed about the interior of Frank.

And that was just enough to get the employees talking. They poured a round of Maine Root Beer on the house, hung out with us for about 25 minutes and showed us all the behind-the-scenes care that went into Frank’s interior design and menu. Then they sent us off with a list of their other favorite restaurants in town to try instead.

Wow! We came hungry and left as friends.

So while the humble hot dog may be out-of-this-world at Frank Hot Dogs and Cold Beer, the people are sure to make you feel right at home.

Important Info:

Location: Corner of 4th and Colorado, Austin, TX

Website: http://www.hotdogscoldbeer.com/ The photo above is just a teaser of the many enticing pics on the Frank Hot Dogs and Cold Beer website.

Note: Closed for Sunday dinner. Vegetarian options available.

Our friends Fletcher and Calli came to visit this week. After a quick lunch at Chuy’s (remember, it’s an Austin staple!), and a long nap for Titus, we headed to SoCo.

Fletcher and Calli are our stylish young friends. They wanted to check out some vintage fashion shops. SoCo was the place to go.

We spent a bit of time here.

And, you may not know this, but I’m new at the whole taking pictures thing. Well, actually take a look at the pictures on here…or the lack thereof…and it probably wouldn’t take you long to guess that. I’ve been reading Pioneer Woman’s photography tutorials. I have blog photography envy.

So I’ve been practicing. And New Bohemia was as good of a place as any.

We are now the proud owners of just about a thousand pictures of red, white and blue boots.

But I discovered all kinds of cool things.

Like don’t use flash indoors for a close up of a white inanimate object.

And sepia covers a multitude of sins.

And do use the manual button. And do adjust the coloring. And do adjust the center weighting.

Kind of fun. Calli liked my results!

Boots, you’re getting the boot. Time for the trash bin.

Too bad the camera decided it too wanted to splash in Town Lake today. Yes it’s very tragic. All prayers and donations are welcomed.

My friend Danielle has a theory that in the heart of every man is still a small bit of a 12 year old boy. No matter how chic or successful the man, in the right company, bodily functions are still good for a laugh. It was junior high reunion day. Kenny and Fletcher had fun taking pictures of all the inappropriate t-shirts. I won’t post those pics. They make me blush.

However, this was Kenny’s favorite. Not really inappropriate. Just kind of big-headed.

All right friends. Come to see me soon. We’ll have fun in SoCo!

When I look out the front window at night I see him there, perched protectively next to mommy bird as she keeps the eggs warm in the nest.

The nest is strange. It’s mostly made of mud??? I think??? It’s not a pinestraw mess like other nests I’ve seen. But come to think of it, I don’t know where the nearest pine tree might be. Judging from my failed attempt in Dallas, 3 hours north of here, to buy a cut-it-yourself pine Christmas tree one year, my guess would be the nearest pine tree is in Missouri. “We’re too far south to grow Christmas trees”, the tree lot attendant informed me.

So, make it work mommy bird. If you don’t have pine straw, use mud.

“You’ll want to take that nest down,” my realtor advised.

“Are the birds up there again?” Mr. Lucilla (I don’t remember his real name) asked. “I went to war against them last year. I did whatever it took to stop their nestbuilding.”

I suppose it was good advice as baby birds are particularly messy, and like any war, the rationale made sense to someone somewhere.

But not to me. I’m a mommy. I’ve lost babies before they were ever born. I could not find it in my heart to bring such pain to another mommy, even a bird. The picture in my imagination of her sadly visiting and revisiting my front porch to look for her eggs was more than I could stand.

After all, before we know it, time, like the little birds, will fly away and they’ll all be gone.

Until then, when you visit my house, watch your step at the front door and enjoy nature’s little show.

P.S. I’ll post pictures when I can find the camera. Moving…aargh!

My family likes Fridays. My husband has the day off. My son gets to spend time with his dad. I get to sleep in. Even, of late, the dog likes Fridays.

Francie, our 64 pound chocolate lab, spends the day with her new doggie friend Dusty, a friendly yellow lab. We try not to think about it much, because when we really stop and consider it, our sweet little girl…who, in doggie years, actually is catching up with me in age…is spending a whole day with a doggie grandpa…but she’s happy. She has all his attention to herself. What woman doesn’t like the undivided attention of her man?

And, yes, we are one of THOSE families: the kind who schedule doggie play dates.

Before you judge us as being too enthralled in our dog, let me tell you the truth. Yes, I think you can handle the truth.

We’re not that great of dog owners. Don’t get me wrong. Our dog is up-to-date on her shots. We feed her twice a day. Our son pets her regularly (although I’m pretty sure she wishes he wouldn’t). We let her out to take care of business. Sometimes, when others aren’t looking, I even let her sleep in bed with me. I wish I didn’t. Now, when we leave, she thinks she can sleep in the bed alone. Brown hair on white sheets is just plain yucky.

However, at our last house, we had a long hallway. So when we adopted Francie in the middle of winter, and she was only 10 pounds, it was easy to rationalize that we could just throw her ball in the house, watch her chase it, and VOILA! She had her exercise.

Fifty-five pounds later, that plan has backfired. When I attempt to take her for a walk now, she takes me for a walk. And if you know much about labs, they were bred to walk…and walk…and walk…and walk. In fact, originally, they were bred to keep up with their owners as they covered large expanses of territory while hunting ducks and other fowl. Thus the name, labrador retrievers.

So we feel a little guilty that we prefer our arms as God made them – in socket – and that Francie does not get the exercise she was bred to have. In our guilt, we overcompensate and schedule doggie play dates for our dog.

Francie likes Fridays.

After we dropped Francie at Dusty’s house, we went out to lunch. When Kenny interviewed for his job in Austin, I read the local food guide. I read about a restaurant I’ve been craving to try – Manny Hattan’s New York Delicatessen and Restaurant.

Manny Hattan…no, I do not know his real name…came to Texas from…well, none other than New York City. He brought with him favorite family recipes and opened a one-location-only thriving delicatessen.

Have you ever had this experience? One moment you don’t even know something exists and the next minute you cannot exist without it?

I had that experience at Manny Hattan’s. Potato Knishes. That was my downfall.

Imagine thick pillowy flaky golden pastry filled with mashed potatoes. Then imagine two slices of this pastry as the bread for a sandwich filled with pastrami blanketed in broiled swiss cheese.

How brilliant! This comfort food was divine.

Kenny ordered the famous reuben sandwich. The waiter was very patient as he explained his aversion to rye bread. She suggested challah bread, a traditional Jewish bread that is thick and doughy and delicious. Kenny was a very happy man when she delivered his sandwich. It was literally 5 inches tall.

I’m definitely going back. I want to try the matzah ball soup and the chicken in a pot, which appears to be their take on chicken and potatoes and dumplings. And sometime I’m going just for dessert. They fly the cheesecake in fresh from the Carnegie Deli in New York City. One day for breakfast, I might even be brave enough to try a bagel with lox and cream cheese.

Hmmm. That’s a lot of carbs.

I wonder if Francie should take me for a walk?

So that February weekend of work in Austin was a harbinger of good things to come. My husband took a job in Austin and we’re back in our beloved Texas. This time I hope to stay.

I love this state. And here in the heart of Texas, I almost feel as though I’m in another country. It’s hours of driving in any direction to visit another state…or another country! It’s only May and it’s hot as…well we all know where. AND FINALLY…we are back to the land of Tex Mex. I can’t tell you how many fish tacos and chips and salsa and chips and queso orders I’ve consumed in the two weeks we’ve been here. It just isn’t the same elsewhere. I think that wannabe Tex Mex restaurants in other states need to discover a couple ingredients – cilantro and peppers. You know even jalapenos would be a good start…but why stop there? Branch out. Serranos, anchos, habaneros, tomatillos, chiles and many more peppers are just waiting to be invited outside of Texas.

Austin has it’s own set of beauty rules. I haven’t learned them all yet, but here are a few I have observed.

1. The more ink and piercings the better.

2. Dreadlocks are mainstream.

3. If you have an infant it’s best to let it all hang out to breastfeed in public.

4. Plastic surgery has not found its way here. The amount of skin people show here seems directly proportional to the number of curves in all the wrong places.

5. Beauty is on the inside. People here have been kind and warm and friendly. And SMART! So snappy and witty. Truly interesting.

So it’s in this beautiful town that we’re putting down roots in a small suburban home made of white Texas stone. We’ll hang our son’s lone star with pride and pray to God this is one dream that just won’t end.

I like lists. My favorite list is my “Where in the world would I like to go?” list. These places can range from the spots of local interest to far-reaching exotic destinations.

While in Texas, do as Texans do, because as we all know, they really do know what is bigger and better in Texas. For me, this meant add the two following destinations to “the list”: San Antonio and Austin. 

I checked off San Antonio a couple springs ago.  Austin eluded me.  With a possibly semi-permanent impending move to Georgia, I wondered if Austin might remain out of reach.

But, ha! Not so was my luck! After a whirlwind pack-up of our home in Keller, my husband was invited to Austin for a weekend consulting gig.  A friend offered to keep Titus, and I won the jackpot of 20 hours in Austin.

What to do with so little time? Southern Living has a fantastic travel guide online. Use the Editors’ City Guide to select a city.  What to do? Where to eat? Where to stay? The site answers this and more.  I trust Southern Living to consistently deliver a quality product, so with so little time, Kenny and I opted to pick from their list of suggestions.

It was a gray, rainy, cold afternoon and evening the Saturday of our arrival, so we opted to take the “driving tour”.  We spent most of our time in Zilker Metropolitan Park.  This 351 acre park is home to Barton Springs, a natural spring swimming hole that remains a steady 68 degrees year round.  It is also home to a botanical garden, which from all accounts is incredibly beautiful.  Unfortunately, we arrived after the garden closed for the evening.  The park provides the city with outdoor theaters and acres and acres of green lawns.

Austin locals are very friendly and, like most Texans, are incredibly proud of their home.  A man at the park spent ten minutes with us telling us all the great things about Austin.

We continued across the river to Austin’s downtown. What a cool town!  Austin’s tagline is “Keep Austin Weird”, and the locals make a great effort to support local establishments.  The streets and streets of inviting art galleries, eclectic restuarants, funky bars and quirky fashion boutiques are a testament to this city’s success – local establishments are alive and well!  I could have spent days, maybe weeks, walking the streets and poking around in the cool places downtown.

 With the overcast sky and drizzly day, Kenny and I were ready for an early dinner and a quiet evening.  He had an early appointment the next morning and needed to prepare.

He picked our restaurant from Southern Living’s guide – the Shady Grove Restaurant. His friend the next day confirmed this is an Austin “establishment”.

 This was one quirky joint.  A little bit of tex mex, some funky California inspiration, and good down-home cooking live in a very happy harmony on the menu at this place.  The rough floors, vintage 60’s metal patio furniture, diner style booths and various “roadkill” art pieces create a classy trashy dive atmosphere.  I think Austin may be the one place on earth this level of eclectic actually works.

I adored my food – fresh-squeezed lemonaid, meatloaf with a chili-tex-mex-tomato sauce and garlic smashed potatoes.  It reminded me of my mom’s meatloaf, but with an edge to it.  Kenny ordered the green chili hamburger touted by Southern Living’s guide.

My only complaint? I was too full to order the chocolate icebox pie I’d been eyeing on the dessert menu.  (Chocolate icebox pie!  If that doesn’t make you feel like Grandma’s come to town, I don’t know what would.)

I don’t know.  Maybe I’ll backtrack to Austin someday.  And when that day comes, I’ll listen to my dad’s advice: “Life is short.  Eat dessert first.”