COLUMNISTS

Mullis: Food so fancy even the water wears a dress

Nicole L.V. Mullis
For the Enquirer

My oldest daughter went to Austin, Texas, for a piano symposium and my family joined her. It was a late Christmas gift – a  chance to support her, eat Texas barbecue, catch a show at the Moody Theatre, and enjoy the warm weather.

After walking the streets of Austin for three days in unseasonably cold weather, some of us had run out of tourism gas. Personally, I would have been fine with whatever the hotel was serving for our last dinner in Austin. My oldest, who had been doing piano symposium stuff indoors the whole time, wanted to walk downtown for a late dinner.

So, we Googled restaurants.

Normally, my son, who is a living search engine, would help, having read every “best of” and “worst of” list on the Internet. However, he wasn’t feeling well and had decided to stay put with a pillow over his head. When we mentioned the Roaring Fork, he muttered.

“Go there. Supposed to be good.”

A brisk 30-minute walk later, we arrived at the Roaring Fork – freezing cold. Darkness and warmth met us, as well as the prospect of a 90-minute wait. As my eyes adjusted to the light, I could see we were under-dressed, despite wearing everything we packed that wasn’t pajamas.

This was the kind of restaurant my husband and I would go to on a significant anniversary, not a restaurant I would take two baby adults, one of whom had only eaten hamburgers since we arrived. We might be in Texas, but my daughters’ palates are distinctly Midwestern, with a weakness for French fries. I was about to suggest a discreet exit when the hostess approached.

“I can have a table for you in ten minutes if you can finish eating in under two hours.”

My husband assured her we could.

We waited by the fancy fire with the fancy menu, my daughters’ eyebrows scrunched into concern as they stumbled over unfamiliar entrees made with ingredients they didn’t recognize. There was a burger, but it came with items like Poblano peppers. I was about to suggest a discreet exit when my oldest pointed to a framed photo on the wall.

A dark chocolate torte sporting a sprig of mint and a dab of cream sat on a white china plate under the headline “Best Dessert in Austin.”

We’re staying.

With an eye towards our hostess, we made a game plan. We would order one burger because it was a burger, one bowl of chicken tortilla soup because my daughters were familiar with it, one Medjool date salad because I was unfamiliar with it, and one split-roasted double-cut pork chop because we couldn’t afford the steak. Then, the chocolate torte.

The hostess sat us. We ordered. While we waited, we watched a waiter carry eight glasses in one hand and place them soundlessly on a table. He filled four of those glasses with water from a wide-mouth pitcher wrapped in linen. My youngest giggled.

“This place is so fancy even the water is wearing a dress.”

A waiter placed a small basket on our table. Inside the linen were circles of cornbread with jalapenos. My youngest took a tentative nibble, then popped the rest in her mouth.

The burger came with Poblanos and French fries. The soup arrived as a medallion of rotisserie chicken threaded with tortilla strips and guacamole, around which the waiter poured soup. The salad was nothing short of decadent and the pork chop was a triumph. We finished it all, including the torte, in under two hours.

We walked back in the Michigan chill, our stomachs Texas warm.

Nicole L.V. Mullis is the author of “A Teacher Named Faith.” Contact her at nlvm.columns@gmail.com.