Texas Hill Country -

by Emily

The Hot Sauce Store to End All Hot Sauce Stores

I would like to invite you to Rustlin’ Rob’s in a little town called Fredericksburg, Texas…

Fredericksburg is mostly known for its wine (yes, there is a Texas wine country) and I personally consider it “the Las Vegas of the Texas wine world” since you’re allowed to walk around with open containers in the streets/stores. I even got mardi gras beads from one of the tasting lounges, and since I have a real garbage party girl streak, I was super into it.

The most surprising aspect of my carousal through Fredericksburg? Rustlin’ Rob’s, the wonderland of condiments and weird snacks, and unlimited free self-serve samples.

Beneath its glowing red chili lights (seriously, so many novelty chili lights) Rustlin’ Rob’s has quite seriously EVERY kind of jam, jelly, jerky, spread, dip, salsa, and um, quail egg (?) a girl could ask for. The best/worst part? IT’S ALL AVAILABLE TO SAMPLE. ALL OF IT. Every single product has a self-serve sample next to it. Now, I know you’re wondering why I called this the “best/worst” thing when clearly it’s the best thing. But after eating literally 30+ samples of specialty jelly slathered over cream cheese and Wheat Thins, you’ll know when your train turns the corner straight into Worstville.

Probably the most impressive section of RR’s is the hot sauce cave.

I have never seen so much hot sauce in my damn life. For all of you who are forever chasing the dragon when it comes to the hottest hot sauce, Rustlin’ Robs is your heaven.

It was the best of snacks, it was the worst of snacks. It was the heaven of snacks, it was the hell of snacks. Rustlin’ Rob’s contains multitudes. If you are ever in central Texas, I strongly urge you to stop by. And don’t eat lunch beforehand.

in Food Travel 1 comments

by Roo de Loo

Texas Tuesdays, Part I: The Carnivore’s Dilemma

A light lunch at The County Line, one of Austin's famous barbecue restaurants. Photo: Matthew Wexler

I had one thing on my mind during my recent trip to Austin, Texas—and it wasn’t where to purchase a pair of Wranglers or how to two-step my way into the arms of a stranger (although those options presented themselves repeatedly).

Meat.

How much and how many varieties could I eat? The answer: plenty. Let’s talk about a few of the best.

Where Do I Draw the Line?

When my companions ordered “The Cadillac” at the famous County Line Bar-B-Q, I knew I’d be in trouble. The family-size platters include sausage, chicken, marbled 2^nd cut brisket, original lean brisket, beef ribs and pork ribs—along with homemade bread and side dishes. The pork ribs were my favorite: smoky and sweet and falling of the bone. Just like me by the end of the meal. When County Line old-timer Dee Dee (with a purple bow in her hair that rivaled one of those Fred Flintstone beef ribs and an equally impressive smile across her face) arrived with a wedge of bread pudding and bourbon sauce, I nearly rolled out of my chair and right into hill country. But I’m a savory kind of guy, so I left dessert to the ladies and was still dipping handfuls of brisket into the County Line’s signature hot & spicy sauce as the rest of the group waddled to the parking lot.