People who don’t know better have, upon occasion, claimed that Austin’s not “real” Texas, thanks to its hipster reputation and liberal leanings that seem to contrast with the rest of the state. But when it comes to food, Austin can be best described as a concentrated version of Texas. The university, the state capital, and, more recently, the tech industry have brought people here from all over the state. Not to mention a history of transplants from all over the US (and the rest of the world).
Accordingly, you can find many Texan and broader southern specialties in Austin. Dishes like chicken fried steak and mac ’n’ cheese, as well as Gulf seafood preparations like baked oysters, can be found throughout the city. These culinary traditions represent the ways in which Texas, for all its independent streak, is often very much a part of the broader American South. Or at least it is when it comes to food.
True to Austin’s sensibilities, restaurants here put their own spin on the classics. The result is jalapeño-laced meatloaf served with barbecue sauce, secret-ingredient fried chicken, and an okra dish that will convert even the most ardent haters.
Not to mention a steak dinner to end all steak dinners. Texas is cattle country, after all.
A sign outside the Broken Spoke says they have the “best chicken fried steak in town,” which may be true. They are, however, infinitely better known for being one of the greatest honky-tonks in the world. Founded in 1964, the Broken Spoke is the best place in Austin to go two-stepping (don’t worry, they give lessons) and has hosted such luminaries as Bob Wills & His Texas Playboys, Willie Nelson, George Strait, and more.
If you eat this dish while listening to old-timey western swing, it will taste like pure Texas. I promise.
Serves 6.
1 egg
1 cup (240 ml) buttermilk
1 tablespoon salt
1 tablespoon black pepper
1 cup (125 g) all-purpose flour, plus ¼ cup (30 g) for the gravy
1 cup (90 g) cracker meal (or crushed saltines)
6 cube steaks (3 ounces/85 g each), or pieces of top sirloin pounded out with a meat tenderizer
Vegetable oil for frying
2 cups (480 ml) whole milk
Whisk together the egg, buttermilk, salt, and pepper in a mixing bowl.
Combine the 1 cup (125 g) flour and cracker meal in a shallow bowl. One at a time, double-bread the steaks: dip each steak in the flour mixture, patting it onto the sides. Submerge the steak in the egg mixture, then dip it into the flour again.
Pour ½ inch (12 mm) oil into a large skillet and heat over medium-high heat until hot but not smoking. Fry the steaks; you may have to work in batches so as not to crowd the pan. Cook the steaks until the batter is golden, about 3 minutes per side. Set the steaks on paper towels to drain and rest for about 5 minutes.
While the steaks rest, make the gravy: Pour all but about ¼ cup (60 ml) oil out of the frying pan. Reduce the heat to medium and add ¼ cup (30 g) flour to the skillet, using a whisk to combine it with any leftover grease and drippings from the steaks. Add the milk and cook, stirring, until the mixture is smooth and thickens to a gravy consistency. Season with salt and pepper and serve over the steaks.
Pimento cheese, a spread made from shredded cheddar, red peppers, and mayonnaise, has seen a revival in recent years. This version, from Noble Sandwich Co., calls for you to roast your own bell peppers instead of using traditional canned pimentos. The fresh flavor is worth the bit of extra effort. Serve this with chips or crackers or raw vegetables, or on sandwiches (which is, of course, how Noble serves them).
Makes 1½ quarts (1.4 L) of pimento cheese, a decent-size bowl for a party.
3 red bell peppers
1½ pounds (680 g) shredded sharp cheddar cheese
1 cup (240 ml) mayonnaise
2 teaspoons Worcestershire sauce
1 tablespoon sriracha
3 scallions, thinly sliced
1 teaspoon black pepper
1 teaspoon roasted garlic powder
2 teaspoons paprika
1 tablespoon apple cider vinegar
Salt to taste
Roast the bell peppers (see this page) and, once they’ve cooled, remove the skin, seeds, and stems (it’s okay to leave a little bit of charred skin, but try to get most of it off). Pulse the peppers in a food processor until finely chopped but not pureed.
Put the peppers along with the remaining ingredients in the bowl of a stand mixer and mix until thoroughly combined. Serve immediately or store, covered, in the refrigerator for up to 3 days.
Restauranting duo Larry McGuire and Tom Moorman were in their early twenties when they opened their first restaurant, Lamberts, in 2006. Since then, they’ve opened several additional restaurants and become known for meticulously designed spaces and elegant food. Over the past decade, their restaurants helped shape what people have come to expect in Austin dining: a vibrant, stylish, and laid-back atmosphere with phenomenal food and a killer soundtrack.
The following recipes are from three different McGuire Moorman Hospitality restaurants: Lamberts (upscale barbecue), Clark’s (seafood), and Jeffrey’s (MMH’s refresh of a landmark Austin steakhouse). Here, these dishes are brought together as a traditional steakhouse dinner—steak, greens, and mashed potatoes—but given a bit of that McGuire Moorman flair.
This ribeye from Lamberts is a bit more dressed up than your standard grilled ribeye, with an assist from whole-grain mustard butter and a crispy brown sugar crust for truly spectacular flavor. Roasted garlic is served on the side as a condiment—you can spread a little on each bite of steak, or mix it in with the Pommes Puree (this page), or spread it on bread.
Serves 2.
1 ribeye steak (18 ounces/510 g)
1 teaspoon olive oil
Salt and black pepper
Whole-grain mustard butter (recipe follows)
2 tablespoons dark brown sugar
Whole roasted garlic (recipe follows)
Prepare a hot grill. Rub the steak with the oil, then season it lightly with salt and pepper. Grill the steak to your desired level of doneness, 3 to 4 minutes on each side for medium-rare (if it’s an especially thick steak, it could need longer). Remove from the heat and let the steak rest for 8 to 10 minutes.
Meanwhile, heat the broiler. Spread a thin layer of mustard butter evenly all over the ribeye, and sprinkle it on both sides with the brown sugar. Broil the steak just until the brown sugar is caramelized, about 1 minute on each side, depending on how mighty your broiler is. Slice the steak against the grain and serve with the roasted garlic on the side.
4 tablespoons (55 g) unsalted butter, softened
½ tablespoon Dijon mustard
2 teaspoons whole-grain mustard
¼ teaspoon sugar
Salt and black pepper to taste
In a bowl, whisk all the ingredients together until combined. Set aside while preparing the steak.
Whole Roasted Garlic
1 head of garlic
1 tablespoon olive oil
Salt and black pepper
Heat the oven to 300°F (150°C).
Cut off the top off of the garlic, exposing the cloves. Drizzle the cloves with olive oil, then season lightly with salt and pepper. Wrap the head of garlic in a piece of foil; add 1 tablespoon water before sealing the foil packet.
Roast the garlic for about 1 hour, or until fully cooked and soft. You’ll want to serve it warm, but let it cool slightly before opening the foil packet so you don’t burn yourself on the steam.
It gets hot in Texas. Really, really, unbearably, terribly hot. And while it makes for great swimming weather, it can seriously hinder those of us who like to cook.
Bless the toaster oven, your greatest ally during the endless summer. During the hot months, I use my toaster oven for everything I’d normally cook in a full-size oven, from chicken thighs to enchiladas. A toaster oven makes this steak a great hot-weather recipe: you can roast the garlic in the toaster oven, grill the steak outside, and then bring it inside to broil in—you guessed it—the toaster oven. All without heating up your house. (Your air-conditioning bill will thank you.)
Jeffrey’s opened in Clarksville in 1975, and for decades it has been the steakhouse of choice for visiting big shots and locals celebrating anniversaries and birthdays. McGuire Moorman Hospitality took over the space in 2013 and gave the restaurant a makeover for the ages. Jeffrey’s remains a steakhouse, but one with modern vision and design (and martini carts).
That said, this recipe is about as old-school as it gets: mashed potatoes with as much cream and butter as they can hold. Sure, it’s decadent and over the top, but hey, that’s what a steak dinner’s all about.
Serves 6.
4 pounds (1.8 kg) Yukon gold potatoes, peeled and diced
1 tablespoon kosher salt, plus more to taste
2 cups (480 ml) heavy cream
½ cup (1 stick/115 g) unsalted butter
Heat the oven to 300°F (150°C).
In a large pot, cover the potatoes with water and add 1 tablespoon salt. Bring to a boil, then reduce the heat to a simmer. Simmer until the potatoes are cooked through, about 20 minutes.
Drain the potatoes well, and then spread them on a sheet pan in a single layer. Dry them in the oven for about 3 minutes.
While the potatoes are drying in the oven, heat the cream and butter together in a small saucepan until the butter is melted. Run the potatoes through a food mill or potato ricer into a pot or mixing bowl, and then add the hot cream and butter. You’ll have to stir it quite a bit to incorporate the dairy, but in the end you should have a smooth, silky puree. Season to taste with salt and serve.
To round out the steak dinner, some greens from Clark’s. This works best with lacinato kale, but use whatever type of kale is available and looks good. The greens are grilled just briefly—you can use the last of the coal embers while the steak rests, if you’re making the whole steak dinner—and then tossed with lemon juice and pine nuts for a smoky and bright vegetable side.
Serves 4 to 6.
1 bunch kale, stems removed, leaves left whole
3 tablespoons olive oil
Pinch of red chile flakes
Salt and black pepper
Juice and grated zest of ½ lemon
¼ cup (25 g) freshly grated Parmesan cheese
2 tablespoons pine nuts, toasted
In a large mixing bowl, drizzle the kale with 2 tablespoons of the oil. Season with chile flakes, salt, and black pepper, and toss together until everything is covered with seasoning.
Prepare a hot grill (or heat a grill pan over high heat on the stovetop). Grill the kale directly on the grates in one large bunch, turning periodically with tongs until it is cooked and tender, about 4 minutes.
Transfer the kale to a mixing bowl and add the lemon juice and the remaining 1 tablespoon oil. Toss to combine, then transfer the dressed kale to a serving dish. Finish by sprinkling the greens with the cheese, lemon zest, and pine nuts.
Note: If you have delicate, early-season kale, you can leave the stems on.
Chef James Holmes’s grandmother Lucy must have been one incredible woman, as she inspired Holmes to name both his daughter and his restaurants after her. One thing’s for sure: she had a fantastic fried chicken recipe. And while Holmes didn’t divulge the exact secret to Lucy’s seasoning mix, he says this will get you pretty close.
Lucy’s uses their house-made Bayou Betty hot sauce for this recipe, but Holmes says “go with your favorite. Or, for the faint of heart, you may omit.” Either way, he recommends drinking Lone Star beer both while you prepare the chicken* and while you eat it, and that you eat the leftovers cold the next day.
*Please be careful when frying!
Serves 4 to 6.
1 quart (960 ml) buttermilk
½ cup (120 ml) Louisiana-style hot sauce
2 tablespoons soy sauce
2 small fryer chickens (about 2 pounds/910 g each), cut into 10 pieces each (with the breast split), or have the butcher cut them for you
6 cups (770 g) all-purpose flour
¼ cup (60 g) salt
¼ cup (28 g) black pepper
1 tablespoon granulated garlic powder
1 tablespoon onion powder
1 tablespoon ground cayenne
1 gallon (3.78 L) peanut oil
In a large bowl, stir together the buttermilk, hot sauce, and soy sauce. Add the chicken and let it marinate in the refrigerator for at least 12 hours, but ideally 48 hours.
When it’s time to fry, mix together the flour, salt, black pepper, garlic powder, onion powder, and cayenne in a large, shallow dish. Heat the oil in a large, deep pot to 325°F (165°C).
While the oil heats up, coat the chicken: Take each piece out of the marinade and dip it in the flour mixture, massaging the seasoning into the chicken. (Holmes says this is the key to achieving that crispy crust.) As you coat the chicken, separate the pieces into two groups: dark meat (thighs and wings) and white meat (breasts). It will be harder to tell which is which once they’re covered in batter.
Fry the chicken in batches according to the type of meat: dark meat fries with dark meat, white meat fries with white meat. Don’t crowd the pot; you should only have one layer of meat frying at a time. Fry the chicken until the crust is golden brown all over, 10 to 12 minutes per batch. Transfer the fried chicken to a baking sheet lined with paper towels while you fry the rest. Serve either hot or cold.
Parkside is Austin chef and restaurateur Shawn Cirkiel’s flagship restaurant. Opened in 2008, Parkside serves its twist on classic Americana, like its signature macaroni and cheese. The beauty of this dish? It would be as at home on your grandmother’s Thanksgiving buffet as it would be in a white-tablecloth restaurant.
Serves 8.
1 pound (455 g) dried elbow macaroni
Salt
4 tablespoons (55 g) unsalted butter
½ cup (65 g) finely chopped yellow onion
¼ cup (30 g) all-purpose flour
4 cups (960 ml) whole milk, cold
1 bay leaf
3 black peppercorns
2 sprigs fresh thyme
2 cups (215 g) shredded Gruyère cheese
2 cups (225 g) shredded white cheddar cheese
½ cup (25 g) dried bread crumbs
¼ cup (25 g) shredded Parmesan cheese
Ground black pepper
Heat the oven to 400°F (205°C).
Boil the pasta in salted water until slightly undercooked, about 2 minutes less than the package’s instructions say to cook it. Drain and set aside.
Melt the butter in a saucepan over medium heat. Add the onion and cook until it is translucent, about 3 minutes. Turn the heat to low and add the flour; cook for 2 minutes, stirring constantly. Gradually whisk in the cold milk, then add the bay leaf, peppercorns, and thyme. Bring the sauce back to a simmer and simmer until slightly thickened, about 5 minutes.
Strain the sauce into a medium pot. Set the pot over low heat and gradually stir in the Gruyère and cheddar, whisking until smooth. Season to taste with salt and ground pepper. Add the cooked pasta and stir to combine, making sure the sauce is evenly distributed through the pasta.
In a small bowl, combine the bread crumbs and Parmesan.
Pour the pasta into a greased 9 by 13-inch (23 by 33-cm) baking dish and top with the bread crumb mixture. Bake until the sides are bubbling and the top is golden brown, about 20 minutes.
Evan Voyles has been designing and building neon signs for Austin stores and restaurants at his studio, The Neon Jungle, since 1994. His work includes many iconic Austin images, including signs at the original Alamo Drafthouse, Magnolia Cafe, Lucy’s Fried Chicken, and much of the neon on the South Congress shopping strip. Here he explains how these signs became the signature for so many businesses and came to encapsulate the aesthetic of Austin itself.
When my antiques store burned down in 1994, I had a bunch of signs out back in what I called the neon jungle. They weren’t harmed by the fire. Everything inside was gone, cooked. I had a pair of jeans, a pair of boots, and about twenty killer American neon signs in back. I was in the sign business overnight.
It started out along South Congress, and South Congress is my biggest body of work today. I tried to build a community of signs to go with the community of neighbors. I’ve spent twenty years trying to carefully craft a chess set along that row. I made South Congress look that way, and I’m very proud to have contributed to the visual culture of my hometown.
What attracted me to signs in the first place is that you’ve basically got three types of artwork in front of you. You’ve got sculpture, you’ve got painting, and then the neon is line-drawing with light. Ideally these all work with each other instead of against each other. We don’t live in a world that’s all night and we don’t live in a world that’s all day. During the day, the sculpture and the painting make the point. Neon in broad sunlight—you can’t see it. It might as well not be there.
I figured the signs would last if I built them like the old guys did. I was collecting signs that were sixty, seventy years old, and they still worked. I thought, “If I just do it like these guys, my work will stand for decades.” My signs look handmade because they are handmade. Flawless isn’t my taste. I want the signs to look funky. I’m channeling the ’30s and the ’40s, when things were made to the best of their abilities, with the best of the materials they had.
I rivet everything, and now I’m almost making a fetish out of it. The rivets aren’t decorative—they hold it together. They’re structurally necessary. Nobody uses rivets anymore. Welding is faster, and people think welding looks better. I don’t. I am ruled by the old methods.
A sign also needs delight. Delight is the sugar, delight is the salt, delight is the hook that gets you in. It’s one thing to look at a sign and go, “Yeah, okay. It says that.” It’s another to look at a sign and go, “Oh man, I want to go there.”
It isn’t just how the piece works for me or the client, it’s how the piece works in the context of where the sun is, where the trees are, where the traffic’s coming from, where the wind is coming from, how fast you’re going, how far up the building it is, where the driveway cuts, where the door is, what are your hours, what are you selling?
Take Justine’s. That restaurant was on the edge of town when it opened. The East Side was not hip. Who knew East Fifth went that far? Who even knew there were houses over there? I’d tell people, “Here’s the thing, go at night because they’re not open during the day, and at the end of a very long, dark tunnel you’re going to see a flickering light underneath those trees.”
That’s the sign—the trees catch it. The whole restaurant glows; it’s this bright spot in the night. Is that not what we all want, the bright spot in the night?
Quality Seafood has been in business, in one form or another, since 1938. It currently occupies a large storefront on Airport Boulevard, and it includes a seafood market, oyster bar, and restaurant. The market is one of the best places in town to source Gulf seafood, and, as this creamy, decadent blackened drum dish shows, they also know what to do with it.
You can buy store-bought blackening spice or make your own—either way works.
Serves 2.
2 fillets red or black drum (6 to 8 ounces/170 to 225 g each)
3 tablespoons blackening spice, store-bought or homemade (recipe follows)
3 tablespoons unsalted butter
Shrimp cream sauce (recipe follows)
Pat the fillets dry and press the spice mix onto the surface. Brush off any seasoning that doesn’t stick to the fish. (If you’re using store-bought blackening seasoning, have a light hand with it, as these tend to be saltier than homemade.)
Heat a cast-iron skillet over high heat until hot but not smoking. Melt the butter in the pan and add the fish. Cook on each side until the fillets turn white on the edges (about 2 minutes per side). Remove the fish and serve with shrimp cream sauce.
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 tablespoon minced shallot
1 garlic clove, minced
8 ounces (225 g) Texas Brown shrimp, peeled and deveined, chopped
1 teaspoon Creole seasoning
1 cup (240 ml) heavy cream
½ tablespoon Tabasco sauce
½ tablespoon Worcestershire sauce
½ tablespoon unsalted butter
Salt and black pepper
2 tablespoons chopped scallion
Heat the oil in a sauté pan over medium heat. Add the shallot and garlic and sauté for 30 seconds, then add the shrimp and Creole seasoning. Sauté for 1 to 2 minutes. Add the cream, hot sauce, and Worcestershire sauce. Bring to a boil, then reduce the heat to a simmer. Simmer the sauce until it thickens and reduces by half, about 5 minutes. Add the butter, season with salt and pepper, and fold in the scallion. Serve hot.
Homemade Blackening Spice
1 tablespoon paprika
2 teaspoons granulated garlic powder
2 teaspoons chili powder
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon black pepper
1 teaspoon dried thyme
½ teaspoon ground cayenne
½ teaspoon ground cumin
Combine the paprika, garlic powder, chili powder, salt, black pepper, thyme, cayenne, and cumin together in a small bowl.
Gulf oysters are often quite large, and while they’re plenty good raw, their size lends them nicely to baked or grilled preparations. You’ll find baked oysters all over the Gulf Coast, particularly in New Orleans, but the tradition has crept all the way up to Austin in these baked oysters from Mongers, a restaurant and fish market that specializes in Gulf seafood. This recipe also works well on the grill, if you like your oysters a little bit smoky.
Serves 6.
2 cups (480 ml) milk
1 shallot, cut in half, peeled
1 bay leaf
2 whole cloves
3 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted
3 tablespoons flour
Salt and white pepper
Pinch of grated nutmeg
1 ounce (28 g) Gruyère cheese, grated
1 ounce (28 g) Parmesan cheese, grated
1 tablespoon chopped fresh tarragon
1 tablespoon chopped fresh chives
24 to 30 Gulf oysters, scrubbed and shucked on the half shell
⅓ cup (35 g) toasted bread crumbs
Heat the oven to 400°F (205°C).
In a medium saucepan, heat the milk, shallot, bay leaf, and cloves until the mixture simmers. Remove from the heat and let the milk steep for 30 minutes.
Put the butter and flour in a skillet over medium heat. Whisk the mixture constantly until the flour no longer has a raw taste, about 2 minutes. Remove from the heat and set aside.
Remove the shallot, bay leaf, and cloves from the milk and return the milk to a simmer over low heat. Add the flour mixture to the milk and whisk until smooth. Cook the sauce, whisking often, for 10 to 15 more minutes, until thickened. Season with salt, white pepper, and nutmeg.
Remove the sauce from the heat and add the cheeses and herbs, stirring until the cheese is melted. Let cool to room temperature.
Top each oyster with 1 tablespoon sauce and bake on a sheet pan for 15 minutes, until the sauce is browned and bubbling. Top with bread crumbs and serve.
Here’s Jacoby’s take on meatloaf, which gets a hint of Texas flavor from jalapeños and barbecue sauce. This is one of the juiciest meat-loaves I’ve ever made, which is to say that it throws off a lot of liquid while cooking (heed the advice to cook it on a rimmed sheet pan) and is also astoundingly delicious.
Serves 6 to 8 with leftovers for sandwiches.
2 tablespoons vegetable oil
⅔ cup (85 g) finely diced onion
⅓ cup (50 g) finely diced jalapeños
3 eggs
⅔ cup (55 g) panko bread crumbs
2 teaspoons salt
1 teaspoon black pepper
⅓ cup (75 ml) chicken stock
2 teaspoons minced fresh rosemary
2 teaspoons minced fresh thyme
3 pounds (1.4 kg) ground beef (80/20)
Barbecue sauce (recipe follows)
Heat the oven to 375°F (190°C).
Heat the vegetable oil in a sauté pan. Add the onion and jalapeños and cook until the onion is translucent, 3 to 5 minutes. Remove from the heat and set aside to cool.
Once the cooked vegetables have cooled, combine them with the eggs, panko, salt, pepper, stock, rosemary, and thyme in a medium bowl and stir until combined.
Add the wet mixture to the beef in a large mixing bowl and mix with your (very clean!) hands until well incorporated.
Form the meatloaf by forcefully throwing small handfuls of the meat mixture into a loaf pan, about ¼ cup (60 ml) at a time. (This step may seem like an odd thing to do, but it will help the meatloaf develop a nice texture.) Press the meat down so the mixture is evenly pressed into the pan and forms a nice loaf shape.
Cover the loaf pan with foil and set it on a sheet pan, in order to catch any drippings that might bubble out during cooking. Bake the meatloaf for 40 minutes, then remove the foil and bake for 25 more minutes or until it reaches an internal temperature of 150°F (66°C).
Remove the meatloaf from the oven and allow it to cool in the pan for 15 to 20 minutes. The meatloaf will shrink slightly during baking, and it throws off quite a bit of liquid.
Remove the loaf from the pan, leaving the liquid behind, and serve it in thick slices with barbecue sauce.
Barbecue Sauce
¼ cup (60 ml) corn syrup
¼ cup (60 ml) molasses
⅓ cup (75 ml) apple cider vinegar
⅓ cup (75 ml) ketchup
1 tablespoon homemade blackening spice (this page)
Combine all the ingredients in a saucepan and bring just to a boil. Immediately remove from the heat and serve warm.
Contigo is a restaurant you would only find in Austin. The restaurant is almost entirely outdoors, a patio of long tables and picnic benches, trussed with strings of lights. Chef Andrew Wiseheart and his team prepare dressed-up bar food with a Texas accent, including rabbit and dumplings, crispy fried green beans, and one of the city’s finest burgers.
This, though, might just be my favorite thing on the menu. Okra and walnuts are a brilliant pairing, as the seeds of the okra mimic the texture of the walnuts. Jalapeño and vinegar give it welcome sass. Okra haters, try this one. You might surprise yourselves.
Serves 6 as a side.
3 tablespoons vegetable oil
1 pound (455 g) okra, sliced ½ inch (12 mm) thick on a bias
½ teaspoon salt, plus more to taste
½ cup (60 g) thinly sliced shallot
1 jalapeño, thinly sliced
4 garlic cloves, thinly sliced
½ cup (50 g) toasted walnuts, roughly chopped
½ cup (75 g) Sun Gold, Juliet, or cherry tomatoes, cut in half
½ cup (120 ml) sherry vinegar
4 tablespoons (115 g) cold butter
Black pepper
Heat the oil in a large sauté pan or cast-iron skillet until nearly smoking. Add the okra and ½ teaspoon salt and sauté until it begins to brown, about 1 minute.
Add the shallot and jalapeño and sauté until the shallot softens, about 1 minute. Add the garlic and sauté for 30 seconds. Add the walnuts, tomatoes, and vinegar; cook until almost of the vinegar has evaporated.
Remove from the heat, add the butter, and toss until it is melted and the vegetables are glazed. Serve immediately.
