Little Deli & Pizzeria – Austin, Texas

In the 1973 Woody Allen movie”Sleeper,” the neurotic comedian, writer, actor, and film director declaimed, “I believe there’s an intelligence to the universe, with the exception of certain parts of New Jersey.”  Comedian George Carlin pounced on New Jersey’s license plate, deriding the “Garden State” sobriquet, expressing that it should be “The Tollbooth State.”   In response to his son-in-law Michael “Meathead” Stivic’s “I hate Jersey” comment, Archie Bunker declared “Everybody hates Jersey! But somebody’s gotta live there.” New Jersey is the Rodney Dangerfield among the fifty states.  It gets no respect, especially when compared with its nextdoor neighbor New York.  Perceptions among some outsiders is that the population of New Jersey is replete with Italian-American Mafia types like Tony Soprano.  Others perceive as accurate the unwatchable MTV “reality” television series Jersey Shore which perpetuates Italian-American stereotypes of New Jerseyans.  Its gratuitous use of the ethnic slurs “guido” and “guidette” are an affront to every good and decent resident of the state. Admittedly I haven’t spent much time in New Jersey.  My first visit was just long enough to qualify on the M16 rifle before the Air Force sent me to RAF Upper Heyford, England.  Would you consider it boasting if…

La Barbecue – Austin, Texas

Every summer, a predictable ritual takes place. After hibernating comfortably since the previous autumn, men attired in aprons emblazoned with the slogan “kiss the cook” will selflessly volunteer to “cook” a meal. This, of course, means grilling, a decidedly masculine affectation and the only type of cooking most men can be entrusted to do. When this ritual is completed and guests are sated, lavish praise and thanks are heaped upon the “chef.” In truth, the only aspects of this ritual for which men are typically responsible is getting the grill lit, placing the meats on the grill and turning them (after our female better halves warn us that the meats are burning). Normally all the preparatory work—buying the food; preparing the salad, vegetables and desserts; preparing the meat for cooking; organizing plates and cutlery; preparing the plates—is done by our wives and girlfriends. Ditto for the post-dining rituals—clearing the table, doing the dishes and putting everything away. Insouciant clods that men are, we can’t figure out why our ladies are upset when we asked how they enjoyed their “night off.” Men love to play with fire.  Those who get really good at it–and have a lot of patience–may eventually graduate…

LeRoy And Lewis Barbecue – Austin, Texas

What can you say about a wife who practically pushes her husband out the door so he can gallavant through the Lone Star State in pursuit of barbecue?  That’s precisely what my Kim did.  She didn’t do so out of malice or because she’s tired of me.  Far from it.  We’ve been together for four decades.  There’s no one whose company I enjoy more and it’s mutual.  Throughout my Air Force career, we were stationed far away from family and had only ourselves to rely on.  We’ve grown together both figuratively and literally (mostly me).  While I would love for my Kim to be by my side every moment of every day, she knows I sometimes need to explore culinary horizons by myself, advance scouting for when I can take her with me. Mysandrists might decry the Austin weather as divine retribution for me traveling without my bride and our debonair dachsund, The Dude.  An uncommon cold spell has limited my outdoor activity to getting in the car and driving to one of the anointed restaurants on my list.  On February 8, the high temperature in Austin was 88.  Since my arrival, the high temperature has been in the low…