If someone had told me a month ago, or a year ago, how much I would love Texas, I would never have believed them. The great beauty of this state, and the incredible variety present here, fly in the face of all my preconceived notions about what I would find as we traveled through. From Austin we drove to the Guadalupe River State Park for four nights of camping (with hot showers!). The river itself is stunningly beautiful and the park is full of easy hiking/bike trails (a little too easy for our taste). Located about 40 miles north of San Antonio, the park is close enough to the hill country for easy exploration. In my last post I mentioned how similar the climate and vegetation are to the Mediterranean and it turns out that there are people growing the crops we expected to see in such an environment (though we never saw any of them from the road)! There are vineyards and olive groves and there is a whole Texas wine trail with over 400 vineyards to explore!
We spent one day doing the wine thing around Fredericksburg. Most of it was perfectly drinkable (even to our French palates), and a couple of the wines were even surprising. Honey has decided it’s better for him not to know the appellation so he doesn’t find himself comparing American wines to French standards. The flavor profiles between American and French are just too different. That doesn’t mean the American versions are bad (I happen to really like Willamete Valley Pinot Noirs, for example), just that the results are completely different from what the French produce. Not quite apples and oranges, but perhaps more along the lines of trying to compare plums to apricots.
One of the things that did surprise us is that even with 400 active vineyards in Texas, they don’t grow enough grapes to fit their need. It may be that many of the wineries are recent additions to the landscape and haven’t yet converted sufficient acreage to vines, but there are few visionary producers who started growing and making wine in the late ‘80s and early ‘90s, so I would have thought others would have caught on sooner. As it stands, many wineries have to buy grapes from elsewhere in the US (Oregon and Washington mostly) to supplement and balance out their homegrown varietals, especially when they want to make whites since the Texas heat renders most white wine grapes unsuitable. We did have a full Texas white that we really enjoyed called a Roussane, which is a very mineral-heavy white originally from Côtes du Rhône, but we mostly enjoyed the bold, hearty reds more adapted to this climate.
On another outing, we discovered a small, locally-owned grocery store at Bear Creek near Canyon Lake. They sell their own local organic produce, homemade bread, and the best steak we’ve ever had, along with a fabulous smoked ham from the BBQ joint across the way. Neither of us could get over the flavor of the beef—you could practically taste the pasture in every bite. In that same area around Canyon Lake is a regenerative farm1 called Pure Pastures, which I spotted because they do something I haven’t seen before with their ground beef and lamb. You can get it plain, or you can get it with liver and heart ground in, which I think is genius. Organ meats are absolute nutrition powerhouses, and provide vitamins and minerals to the body in forms that are easy to absorb, but most people (myself included—except for sweetbreads which are my pêché mignon2) find them hard to stomach. Honey loves a thinly sliced and breaded slab of veal liver deglazed with raspberry vinegar (a French classic), but I find it a bit “overwhelming.” If it’s all ground up together though… Much easier to mask as a chili or a hearty bolognese! So I fantasized about these grinds, and then they were out of stock when we went to their store. Womp womp. To console ourselves (mostly me), we bought a boneless leg of lamb and the creamiest raw milk kefir ever. No disappointment can last long in the face of good, healthy food!
So much activity (and indulgence) calls for an equal amount of rest and we made sure to spend plenty of time lounging, reading, and relaxing. The river was too cold to swim, but we both took a quick plunge before shivering back to life in the lovely March sunshine. After the state park, we stayed with a lovely Boondocker host on the north side of San Antonio. Ray moved to the US when he was 16 and we spent several enjoyable evenings chatting about our respective lives as the night turned cool around us. He kindly shared his excellent internet and I have to admit that we enjoyed every minute of having such a high speed connection after having virtually none in the campground! Ray lent us tools when we had to change out our water pump, and he even gave us a foldable set of legs for our Coleman stove which also work with our tabletop, so now we have several outside cooking options!
Even though there are 1M fewer people living in San Antonio than in Austin, the city felt much more spread out. Maybe because the topography isn’t as dramatic in this part of the hill country so there’s less to look at on the way in. The riverwalk is a lovely surprise, though it would be more enjoyable if the restaurants weren’t all the same type of boring chains you can find anywhere and everywhere. The cooling effect of the river compared to the street above was dramatic and we found that it was a perfect way to enjoy a frozen margarita (me) or a quickly warming beer (Honey) and watch people strolling by. There are some neat old buildings tucked in between newer architecture, and historical plates set at intervals provide some historical context for the area. We walked for a while and then grabbed a bite at an Irish pub (it was terrible) before finally heading home.
The day before we were supposed to leave, we went to San Antonio’s third annual Wild Game Sausage Showdown in Southtown. This neighborhood has more the kind of vibe we tend to enjoy. Little shops, cool spots to eat, cute houses and lots of people riding bikes. We walked around a bit before going to the showdown, as much to work up an appetite as to scope out the neighborhood, but the heat quickly drove us to seek shade and the promise of a cold drink. Participants in the contest competed in four categories and the price of admission got you a free drink and the privilege of tasting everything on display and voting for your favorite in each category. We learned that it’s illegal in Texas to sell game meat to the public (maybe it’s illegal in the US in general?) so the point of this competition was for different game and meat processors to showcase their recipes to hunters and sportsmen in partnership with the Texas Parks and Wildlife department. Before you have my head about poor Bambi, let me say that hunting within strict parameters applies necessary pressure for herd and pasture health and several game wardens were in attendance enjoying the finished products.
We started off strong, but by the fourth stall, Honey and I were well sated. Not quitters when it comes to food or duty, we bravely continued until we had tasted every single sausage from every single provider. Neither of us much cared for what they call summer sausage, a thick, cold slice of meat with chunks of “cheddar” throughout, but the link sausage (same but smaller and served hot) was alright. I loved the jerky and Xav really enjoyed the dry sausage. Lots of great flavors and spices, a variety of styles. Most were a combination of venison and pork for less chew and more flavor. At the end we were able to go back around the stalls and grab some things to go. We’ve been having a piece of jerky here or there in the days since, able to fully savor it without the pressure of having to eat more and more and more.
We had to stay a few extra days in San Antonio, waiting for medication for Goya to arrive via general delivery. Fortunately our host was flexible and very generous with his space, letting us extend once, and then again with no fuss. After the postal ladies at the main branch finally found our mislabled package, we took off and made our way to the Amistad National Recreation Area, very near the border with Mexico. This area marked the beginning of my love affair with the desert, which I will write about more extensively in my next post.
For two nights we camped on top of a hill with a spectacular view of the reservoir. We were graced with flaming sunsets and sweet, creeping sunrises; cool breezes and brilliantly sunny days. We walked around the reservoir, went to see the pictographs at Seminole Canyon State Park, one of several sites in Texas housing prehistoric rock art, and planned out the next section of our trip. The night before we were leaving a fit couple on bikes rode up to our campsite and started chatting us up. They’d spent a decade sailing around the world and are now spending some time touring the US in their Airstream. We exchanged information and stopped in for coffee on our way out the next morning. They have more of a plan for their travels, but it would be fun to meet up again further down the road. Who knows? We may have made our first traveling friends!
A great introduction to the principles of regenerative agriculture is Gabe Brown’s Dirt to Soil. It’s a quick read about saving a farm and restoring soil health to produce nutrient dense food by re-establishing natural processes and moving away from conventional agriculture.
Little sin or weakness—special indulgence.