Learning the meaning of "Spare Time"

When someone mentions what they do in their "spare time", I'm puzzled. Borderline baffled. So much so that I shake my head in amazement, raise my eyebrows while sighing and pretty much ignore the whole concept all together. Who has time for spare time, I wonder?

I don't have kids, I'm not in school anymore, I don't even have a long commute to and from work each day, so I'm pretty sure I don't have a solid excuse like other people might. But because I have officially submersed myself into what I refer to as 'adulthood' (working full time and maintaining a high standard of my home environment and personal life) over the past few years, I can't remember the last time I've had time to "spare".

Why is this, you ask? I'm what they call a "planner": By definition I am a "deviser", a "contriver". I like to plan to get things done, mostly by making lists. It's always go-go-go! Chores, itineraries, groceries, birthdays, errands, happy hours, you name it! The best part is that unlike most people that are known for making lists, I actually complete them. I've referred to my organizational therapy before by stating that "Busy is Fun!!". Although this is still true, I'm beginning to feel interested in the meaning of spare time. And because I'm not so familiar with what spare time feels like, I don't realize I have it until it's already gone... except for this past Sunday.

After making a run to TacoDeli (where I had the pleasure of experiencing the famous Mashed Potato, Egg & Cheese breakfast taco with their signature Dona sauce for the first time) it was off to the pool. Some might argue that pool time is spare time, but not in my book. My visits to the pool are a labor of love that includes squaring up to the sun in such a way that produces an even tan while browsing through one of my multiple magazines that have accumulated in my lack of spare time. Exhibit A: The stack that has been moved out of site into a basket on a shelf because I realize I can't get to them before my "clean freak" comes out and wants the counters cleared.

These magazines (and some books, as I have also noted before) make their way into my apartment and never seem to make their way out - mainly because I don't immediately read them. Even when I do get to the last page I feel obligated to keep them because of the wealth of information found on their pages... recipes and workout tips, new uses for old things, it's endless! I realize I'm beginning to sound like a hoarder, to which I will simply defend with "No". Have you ever read Real Simple Magazine? It's decidedly the best one out there. Oh, to write for them one day would be a dream...

Back to reality where the stacks of magazines await that mysterious "spare time": After the pool was going to be a Racquetball re-match, a game which I've recently learned to play and that was downright robbed from me a few nights before. I was up a whopping 13 to 4, just two points away from victory and somehow I ended up losing 16-14. I'll blame it on my lack of experience, given that I only learned to play about 6 weeks ago and T, my arch-nemesis, has been playing since he was a kid.

The sweaty walk back from the pool proved to be too much for the both of us, and as the blazing afternoon sun pushed the thermometer to yet another triple digit hell hole, we decided to stay inside. Movie time! Now, if I told you that the last time I remember actually choosing to get into bed on a Sunday afternoon and watch a movie while (gasp!) my lists beckon me from the other room was about 3 years ago, would you believe me? Yes, it's true.

At first I felt anxious, like I was making an irresponsible decision. Why would I waste my afternoon doing "nothing" while there was so much left to do? The chores started swirling in my head: you could empty the dishwasher, do a load of laundry, change the kitty litter, dust! And that's when it hit me: "Nothing" should be on my list. "Nothing" is relaxing, rejuvenating, pure repair... "nothing", I realized, transformed into "spare time" and it was all-of-the-sudden upon me. The feeling of "go-go-go" shouldn't lead to exhaustion, it should be inspiring. And for me it usually is - but thanks to T's habit of afternoon naps, I was (gently) forced to join his slow paced break from my busy world. Boo-hoo, right?

I'll admit that I didn't quite do "nothing". Afterall, I wasn't sleepy and I had already seen the movie that was playing. Nonetheless, I knew taking some time away from my normal routine would be a good thing, so I crawled into bed anyway. I settled in and an overwhelming feeling of "what do I do now?" washed over me. Then I looked to my nightstand where my TV remotes sit. Instead of on the actual table they're elevated by, you guessed it, magazines and books... just waiting to be read. They've been there for a few months now since the idea is to read them as I'm going to sleep at night; however as most of you have probably heard me say more than once, I get to bed too late as it is even without reading.

"A-ha! Real Simple is is!" The revelation that I could use this quiet time in bed to make some progress on my magazines was exciting. I smiled as I opened the first one, engaging in the beautiful photographs, clever recipes and finally reading the articles I tagged so long ago. It was like I was visiting an old friend and catching up on life. Over an hour passed by and I felt amazing. I thought to myself, "Why don't I do this more often?"

So that's where we are: I'm committing to my magazines. By doing this, I'm committing to myself. And although there is still a large stack of them in that basket I can't see, I like to think that it serves as a treasure chest of relaxation from which I can pluck some "spare time" whenever I want... I guess I better put it on my list.

"Willing" is Half the Battle

I was just 12 years old when a Blue Wave Swim Team parent first asked if I could help give their younger child some technical stroke instruction. Although hesistant to "sell" what felt like should come naturally at that age, it worked out to be a pretty nice summer gig. Never did I think I would be filling my iphone calendar with 13 lessons in one week after giving them up for over a decade.

Since my spontaneous (and probably over-caffeinated) decision to post a boastful, borderline arrogant, craigslist ad at 1:00am after writing my blog about how I missed being in and around the pool, I've been in the water at least 5 days a week. My skin smells like chlorine, my hair has split ends, my nails are chipped... and it's awesome! I feel like my stars are aligned while I didn't even know they existed before.

T gave me a book to read towards the end of May called "Cure for the Common Life" by Max Lucado. I'm ashamed to say I haven't made it past page 10, but only because I've been busy giving lessons! What I am proud to say is that it only took 10 pages for the message of the book to kick in: Get back to what you love doing. For me, it was being in the pool.


Nevermind the fact that my mother and High School swim Coaches will tell you otherwise. Just because I didn't decide to stay in the pool all these years doesn't mean I didn't keep a special place for it in my heart. I believe a lot of what we grow up doing holds special places in each of our hearts. Whether it's something as simple as going to eat at a certain neighborhood restaurant every Friday night or as extravagant as going to the beach with your family for the 4th of July, these things tend to hit home. They bring us back to that spark, that happiness... back to life.

As I interact with the 15 kids I've taught so far, I feel lucky to have been blessed with the talent of swimming. Some of them are blessed with talent, too, while the others are learning to work hard at it. Both are impressive attributes of young, determined children and it's incredibly rewarding to see them improve. Just yesterday a 6 year old boy, with whom I've had five weekly lessons, ran back out of the house to say, "Thank you for my swim lesson!" on his own free will. This is the same kid that during his second lesson told me he hated swimming. I simply smiled, said, "You're welcome" and drove home with butterflies in my tummy.

I guess this blog is another part of my "Sweet Spot". The whole reason I initiated it was because I missed writing. And lucky for yall, I get to blab on about whatever I like ;) This time it's swim lessons, next time will be the Fall Weather, I presume... given that it ever cools off again. Until then, you can find me in the pool.

Those Summer Nights

As the Austin evenings have grown warmer, the bugs have grown louder. And I'm perfectly fine with it. To me it's a true sign that Summer has arrived. Maybe not on the calendar, but in the memory of my adolescence.

Up until I was corrected about 10 years ago, I used to think the lovely chirping came from some sort of a cricket. It's actually the male Cicadas (http://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cicada)
singing their nightly ballad. I like to think it's just for me.

During my 25, going on 26 Summers here in Texas, a good portion of them were spent at Balcones Woods pool. I would attend swim practice as early as 8am and literally stay all day. Some form of lunch was usually bummed off one of the Lifeguards (Doritos or an Ice Cream Sandwich) but if we were lucky, they'd go to Taco Bell or Schlotsky's and share some of their treasured fast food with us, the "pool rats".

The afternoons were usually spent napping on lawn chairs playing Truth or Dare or the forbidden game of "Buns Up" behind the tennis courts- at which point most kids would get hungry enough to go home for dinner. Not me.

I stayed until the last Adult Swim whistle blew at 8:50pm, when the skies became dark and the pool lights came on. That's when the summer bugs sing.

I still think about it every single time I hear them... About the care-free days in the sun with nothing to do except swim. The whole Summer was mine, to do with it what I wanted- and that was be at the pool, day and night.

I remember the intense feeling of freedom I'd get during the evening of the last day of school... sitting by the pool as the sun went down, knowing I had the next 3 months all to myself. It was truly priceless. And I realize that now more than ever.

I push the guilt I feel aside during my recent adult Summers- during all those Monday-Friday office hours I spend inside under fluorescent lights. The window I sit next to offers a view of the blue sky under which my instincts tell me I should be lying in a lawn chair eating an Otter Pop (green is my favorite).

I daydream of putting on my bikini rather than office attire each morning. I have more outdoor towels than bath towels. I have multiple designated "pool bags" that are always ready to go, given that I make time to be by the water on my Saturdays and Sundays.

But considering today is only Tuesday and I was not in my bikini at all, my interaction with the Summer Bugs was on my evening drive on Mopac. I opened the windows and lowered Lady Gaga for once, just so I could hear their song. They offer me a sort of peace, a version of freedom through my nostalgic attachment to their annual impression on my younger self.

So here's to the nights we felt alive, the Summers I can't get back, and the people who made my childhood great. Oh, and to you, Summer Bugs ;)

A Saturday Well Spent

On Monday evening, A asked me if I would attend a (free!) bread making class with her on Saturday... a whole five days away. Aside from the fact that I've never made bread, my usual response would have been "we'll see", which we'll blame on a bad habit I learned from Mr. Boyfriend. Instead, I decided I've entered a "yes" time in my life. So, I said yes. The email she sent me the next day to which I was supposed to RSVP noted that it began at noon (a little early for my usual Saturday practices) and, wait for it, would go until 5pm. FIVE PM!! Now I'm very aware that bread takes time to rise and rise again and then bake, but good Lord! I was beginning to get hesitant. But, for the sake of "yes", I stayed true.

A received a commercial grade Kitchenaid Mixer this Christmas. Since the moment she got it open she's been going crazy with all sorts of concoctions, including homemade bread and pasta. This, naturally, is where the interest in the class originated. I am supportive of this interest because I get to eat her yummy creations. Thanks, A. The week flew by and by Saturday morning, I was actually glad to be getting out and doing some of the wonderful things this city has to offer.

Austin Healthy Cooking was our destination, located off Wells Branch Pkway between IH-35 and Mopac. It was a bit difficult to find at first, but alas, we were the first to arrive at 11:45am. If you're headed there, which I recommend, remember to turn at the Citgo and look for Suite # 119. Walking in the open door to a storefront kitchen, retail shop and pasta-drying factory was impressive right off the bat. The aroma of fresh something welcomed us in as our eyes took inventory of all the culinary delights. In the back of the store, a big window allowed us a perfect view of thousands of fresh pasta strands hanging out to dry in the temperature & humidity controlled back room. Mixers and spice racks, whole grains and fresh jams are just a few of the things available for purchase out front along side Chef Roy's working kitchen.

He informed us there were 12 people signed up for the class, and by 12:10pm 7 more had straggled in. He said it was his biggest turnout, which I was surprised by considering the class is free and he offers food! Two more appeared much later, I think intentionally to enjoy the fruits of his labor. Everything was just delicious, including his home-brewed peppermint iced-tea!

He started by explaining the basics of bread making, which I'll admit flew right over my head as my only real experience in baking is cookies, pies and other desserts that offer precise recipes. One thing I'll always remember he said: If the bread is not rising like it should, you can always add more yeast. I like this approach because another concept he offered was to become familiar with how bread dough is supposed to look, feel and react and you've got it made. If it's too wet, add more flour. If it's too dry, add some olive oil. To a total amateur he made bread making seem pretty easy. And I believe him... I mean, if he wasn't the real deal would he make his own flour?? Awesome!

After getting past the first loaves, he started to improvise and ask us what we'd like to make. We started suggesting things like salt on the top of the crust, mixing herbs and olives into the loaf, etc. He even made a decadent coffee-mocha loaf with leftover breadcrumbs and this morning's leftover coffee!

As the bread took their turns in the one oven he has, (yes, he managed to produce more than a dozen loaves of bread in three hours with just one oven!) he cooked up some of his house-made Smokey & Spicy Chipotle Fettuccine mixed with pressure-cooked chopped chicken, green bell peppers and bit of red wine and tomatoes. It was a perfect afternoon snack with a wonderful balance of heat from the Chipotle flavor and comfort from the dish itself.

We got to talking about his other classes he offers, ALL FREE BY THE WAY, one of which struck my fancy: Cheese. Later this month he'll be making fresh mozzarella and other yummy treats. More classes include Pizza, Pressure Cooking, even Gluten Free baking. I can't wait to get back there! I've included the schedule so you and friend can join the fun: http://austinhealthycooking.com/Class%20Schedule/Class%20Schedule.htm

Out came the loaves by the sets, each time with much anticipation from us students. Butter and olive oil topped the steaming slices, each just heavenly. I am now almost convinced it's easier to bake than buy. Now if only I could get my hands on one of those expensive mixers...

As the afternoon drifted away, it was time to say goodbye. Our bellies were full and minds satisfied. I'm sure A is already thinking of the next batch she's going to bake up, and you can bet I'll be there to try it.

For tonight, though, I did escape with two bundles of specially-priced $5 pasta bundles of my own: Wild Mushroom Linguine and Tomato, Basil & Garlic. Once home, a quick boil of some salted water awaited the Wild Mushroom strands. Just six minutes later they were ready to mix with the white-wine and mushroom balsamic reduction to which I added a freshly chopped tomato. Truly homemade goodness! I'm still savoring the flavors as I write this...

Thanks to Chef Roy, Owner of Gourmet Texas Pasta & Austin Healthy Cooking, for being such a gracious Chef and host. Look for his pastas and other products at the local Farmer's Markets around town, or you can get the real experience by visiting his store: 2013 Wells Branch Pkway Suite #119, 78728
http://www.gourmettexaspasta.com/
http://austinhealthycooking.com/

The Buzz about TRACE

I first heard the news of one of my best friends getting hired at The W Hotel back in October; at which point the realization of such a socially prestigious connection hadn't hit me. After tonight's experience, I now understand.

We all know that the newest spots in town are always "the coolest"... for a while. After the shimmery cloud of novelty settles, we're usually left with something that resembles the place right down the street. I'm here to say this is not the case with TRACE.

I've always voiced my longing for a good hotel restaurant and bar here in Austin. I've been to most here in town and none have ever made me want to come back. Well, maybe my recent visit to TRIO at The Four Seasons was better than expected... but how many years did they take to figure that out??

So after hearing for weeks about The W and what TRACE has to offer, we made a plan to go: 4:30pm in the Living Room. But which one? There are four! This is Starwood Property's more modern and casual take on the lobby bar; which, I have to admit I kind of love. They've pulled off four separate spaces that offer four very different atmospheres and environments. Couches and pillows and rugs and fireplaces all invite you in after being greeted by about 12 cute valet guys... I was beginning to feel like I was on vacation!

I was the first to arrive (A'hem! Yes, I was actually on time) and plopped myself down on a smokey gray sectional sprinkled with brightly colored pillows, perfectly positioned for back support. I liked it already. Although the waitress took more than a few minutes to greet me, the drink I ordered, Black Peppercorn Martini, was good. A little on the sweet side, but who can resist a gin martini muddled with basil?? Not me.

C came out to greet us and so the VIP treatment began. He gave us a brief tour of the other spaces before moving us to The Secret Bar, aka The Red Room, and got us a cozy corner spot. All versions of red were strategically combined to produce a very rich and sexy feel... and at 5pm on the day before New Year's Eve, what more could you want?

While the bathrooms were not the easiest to find, I appreciated that they were individual rooms versus larger rooms with stalls. The honeycomb slate tiles kept the sleek feel while the miniature lamp fixtures next to the framed mirrors above the sink kept it warm. I especially liked the "vacant/occupied" airplane style lock system they each have.

We enjoyed a second round of cocktails before venturing to the actual restaurant for dinner: I ordered a French 75, a drink I thought had been around forever but I just discovered, is apparently easier to mess up than I thought. A recent experience at the Fleming's bar was disappointing but The Secret Bar must have a secret recipe... my French 75 was killer! I was very pleased to say the least.

I'll admit that from the street, Lavaca that is, TRACE is very visible. Once you get inside the hotel and work your way in to one or more of the living rooms, it suddenly doesn't seem so clear. My advice is to just follow the hallways back... they all lead to the restaurant. It's maybe a total of 20 steps from the front door, but I did see a lot of guests asking where to go...

The entrance from the hotel is in a hallway lined with a wall of "floating" wine bottles, quite a welcoming site if you ask me. You cross the threshold and into the restaurant bar you go. A zig-zag of bar counters lead you to the hostesses where behind them you see the dining space. Lush curtains hang from ceiling to floor while the mirror mosaics on the opposite wall give a touch of mystery. The half-moon booths offer comfy yet stylish seating with the tufted fabric and Victorian styling. Lighting wasn't an issue for us as we were naturally under a lower ceiling, but I can understand how other tables might feel a bit in the spotlight. C said that was one of his priorities before I even mentioned it, so I feel confident they'll figure it out.

There were five of us to start with a possible two more to join. A gorgeous bar-level table of eight sat open, almost like it was waiting for us. Beautiful honey stained wood served as our table top leveled between two white pillars. Round silver starbursts were laid as our placemats beneath a pair of perfectly heavy utensils... just a simple fork and knife, nothing too fancy to crowd the table. The stools we sat in shouldn't be called stools, rather bar-level la-z-boys. I love it when they have cushioned seats and backs! To tip the beauty scale while being clever, they use Marine Upholstery disguised as luxurious white leather! What a great idea! Not to mention this means they don't have to worry about bringing in their outdoor furniture. How clever is that?!

We started with some Market Plates that C put together for us. Assorted cheeses and candied nuts with pork pate and fried olives- a perfect little snack for everyone. It was presented, along with the menus, on a plank of cherry-stained wood to emphasize the sustainable efforts of the restaurant. The menu focuses on farm-to-table products mostly grown and harvested in Austin and the surrounding areas so you can actually TRACE your food from start to finish.

We then decided on the main course. After asking our server about the Beef plate that A & I would share, I found out it was 4oz. of shortribs paired with 4oz. of Ribeye... all boneless! Hallelujah they've answered my prayers! Don't other restaurants realize we don't come to a nice dinner to get ribs under our nails and cut through the gristle from a bone-in steak? That's what I'm paying you guys for,
so do it for me.

I should have asked the Chef to come out so I could personally thank him, but instead I was enjoying the flavor of it all too much to think about anything else. The ribeye was cooked perfectly (med-rare) and the ribs were just so moist! I'm not much of a beef person, but every now and then it just hits the spot. Dessert was a must after I saw the Apple Huckelberry Cobbler with Lemon Thyme Ice Cream. A perfect sweet for two people but a little big for just me, the cobbler was yummy and not too bready. All too often restaurants over-do the streusel toppings and it ends up drying out the actual fruit. Not this time! It was well balanced and almost refreshing because of the not-too-sweet apple pieces.

As if we hadn't indulged enough, they brought out a tray of locally made square bon-bons with 'TRACE' on the top. Dark chocolate with Tito's Vodka and a bit of Chile spice at the end, a Milk Chocolate with Whiskey and a Semi-Sweet with Raspberry Liqueur. Had we not ordered dessert already, it would have been a wonderful surprise to satisfy the inevitable sweet tooth after a rich meal like that. Even so, we gobbled up every last bite.

After hearing so-so reviews from well-known locals and even people I see on a daily basis, I was a bit worried. Now I'm wondering what the hell they're thinking?! Everyone at our table enjoyed every bite, the service was great and the decor was nice and calm. What more do you need in a dining experience?
Five Stars from me!

Sunshine & Lawn Chairs

Although baking my body in the sunshine is nowhere near healthy, I like to think that the Vitamin D I'm acquiring and pure relaxation is... and as I've said before, Mr. Boyfriend tells me I don't relax enough. I'd like to see the argument against taking a nap on a comfortable lawn chair with the sounds of a waterfall splashing softly in the distance.

I can't tell you how many times the phrase "I'm going to go lay out" (or some version of it) has left my lips during my life; growing up a swimmer, it was perfectly natural. Putting on my bathing suit first thing in the morning was (and is) like my version of coffee - it woke me up and got me energized. Now that I don't have actual swim practice to attend I can go strait for my bikini instead of my racing suit. Monday through Friday requires actual clothing, but thankfully, from March until October, the weekends are for the pool.

I could tell today was going to be one of the last days warm enough to bask in the afternoon heat before it gets replaced with true Fall temperatures. So, I happily tied on my suit, grabbed my best towel and threw on my sunglasses. It was only 3 o'clock and dinner wasn't until 7 - I had at least two good hours all to myself and the sun. On a whim, I grabbed the book I'm currently reading Shit My Dad Says, although almost every time I tell myself I'm going to read while at the pool I don't even get the publication out of my bag.

Maybe it's because the sun isn't as strong during this time of year as it is during the Summer (and therefore doesn't produce such definite tan lines) or because the book is absolutely hilarious while also endearing, I started reading as soon as I laid down. As any practiced sunbather has probably done, I held the book at such an angle as to not block any part of my body. Hey, an even tan is a good tan, right? I spent the next hour and 20 minutes (flipping over half way through, of course) turning page after page, all the while giggling and at times, tearing up with emotion. If you've ever felt like your Dad was hard on you as a kid or even as an adult, read this book. It will help you understand and appreciate the lessons he was probably trying to teach you at the time.

Books or magazines aside, laying out to me is like Church for some. The second my skin touches the towel and the sun warms my face, I feel at ease. I'm reminded that there is a power bigger than us. I specifically remember one Winter that seemed to last too long... it must have been early April before temperatures reached the mid 70s, acceptable bikini weather. (Anything below 74 is a bit chilly, even in the sun. Believe me, I've tried it more than once.) When I was finally able to season my wintry white skin, it was like I had just floated up to heaven. I felt my body sinking into the lawn chair like it was a puffy cumulonimbus cloud...and the rays of sun energize my soul like Red Bull gives those cartoon characters wings. I guess a little bit of me feels like that each and every time I lay out.

Another Summer behind us, I must bid farewell to my 2010 days of sunbathing... Halloween is almost here and then comes Thanksgiving: not exactly pool weather. I look forward to welcoming the month of March (although there have been times, 1999 & 2005, when I was able to get sun kissed as early as January) when I know my 2011 tan will begin. Until then, Sun, shine brightly on my Summer-bound friends Down Under.

"I'll have the Fish Tacos and a Mango with no salt, please"

When I walked into Z Tejas on a referral to apply as a hostess way back in 2003, I had never tried their food. I was hired and therefore enjoyed the free training meals provided as standard practice. Although I don't remember the first thing I tried, all I know is that I keep going back.

Here we are in present time, September 27th, 2010 and I have just devoured another plate of the ever-so-delicious Z Tejas Catfish Tacos. Not only are they irresistible to the point that even when I intend to get something different, (because all of it REALLY is SO GOOD) my mouth starts to water thinking about their one of a kind Asian Dipping Sauce. You'd think I know how to make it since I worked there for 2 1/2 years, but nope. I guess some things are meant to stay a mystery.

What else must I consume while taking in the delight of one of the three Z patios? A frozen Mango Margarita (or three), of course. No salt, please. Just the perfect blend of creamy fruit puree and tangy tequila... there's nothing else like it.

Other stanbys include the Ahi Tuna Appetizer, Queso, Shrimp Tostada Bites, Fried Snapper, Miso Salmon, the Mushroom or Seafood Enchiladas, Chicken Avocado Sandwhich, Diablo Pasta... and you can't forget about the salads! The servers used to tease me that I was having my usual "Ranch Soup" when I took the liberty of making my own salads back in the day... I probably did over do it. But it was so good! Apart from the House Z Salad with their homemade Ranch, the Pecan Crusted Chicken, Jerk Chicken and Trout Salads are to-die-for. It's honestly hard to decide each and every time.

When I was finally able to dine at Z Tejas without feeling like I still worked there, it occurred to me that it was the food that kept bringing me back. Not the joy of seeing old buddies or that I live within walking distance of the place, but that I and everyone I know genuinely love the food. That's why I was a bit worried that the menu would change when Jack Gilmore, Executive Chef (and the genius that wrote Z's menu) left to open his own place, Jack Allen's, which is just as awesome, but on the opposite side of town. Who was I kidding? If I was able to recognize that it's the food that draws the crowd in, surely the big wigs know how important it is.

The most astonishing thing about some of my favorite dishes at Z is that they include two ingredients that I cannot stand. Some people don't believe me, but I don't like bacon. I never have and never will. In fact I hate it. I hate the smell, the texture, the taste-everything about it. So what kind of dressing does the Pecan Crusted Chicken Salad have? A warm bacon vinaigrette. And I love it! Mainly because it happens to not taste much like bacon to me and instead lures me into submission with the warm goat cheese and perfectly cooked chicken.

The second thing I despise is cilantro. I never really knew why I didn't like it until someone pointed out that it tastes like soap. How did I not put my finger on this before?! It has such an aroma, like a terrible perfume that has expired and sat in the sun. The idea that people like the way that tastes just blows my mind. But, I hear it's a genetic thing: You either have the palate for it or you don't. I still don't understand why my sister feels the same way about bananas. Bananas! Anyway, the Pan Fried Snapper is drenched in a cilantro pesto cream sauce. Alas, it does not taste like cilantro to me. I think it is because they got 2 out of 3 right: pesto and cream vs. the lone cilantro. Either way, it's the one thing with cilantro in it that I can eat without making faces you'd think were reserved for hangovers.

And with such a wallet-pleasing happy hour (1/2 priced apps and $1 off margaritas from 4-7 in the whole place), I can enjoy my fish taco and mango pair for a cool $11.55. Who can resist?? Not to mention the free-with-food-purchase cornbread. Psst! The secret to how moist they get it is Plain Dannon Yogurt.

So... as a tribute to my once employer and now favorite food provider, I will make one statement: If I were to have to eat at one restaurant for the rest of my life, Z Tejas would be it. Take that, Taco Bell.