The 'Shroom:Issue 209/Critic Corner
Director's Notes
Welcome welcome welcome to another month! The relentless onslaught of time brings us closer and closer to who knows what? I know! Another set of reviews in Critic Corner! All I care about with August is that my vacation starts just a few days after this posts, so by the time you finish reading Critic Corner I'll be long gone somewhere probably hiding from theme park mascots or bursting into flames on a beach.
This month we've got Paper Plumm (talk) with A Paper Mario: The Origami King Review joining us, so be sure to give it a read!
And now for my regular announcements: We've decided to implement in Critic Corner something similar to News Flush over in Fake News, where no formal sign-up application process is required for one-time or limited sections. From now on if you just want to send in a single review for something you just read, watched played, tried, whatever, you just have to send me your review privately either to me directly in chat, or in a message to me on the forum at least one week before each 'Shroom is to be released! There's no commitment or obligation to provide a full monthly section (although you absolutely can shift it into one if you so choose), just send us your thoughts on a thing and we'll feature it here! If you have any questions or curiosities about this, please feel free to ask!
As always, if you would like to help Critic Corner, we always have openings for more writers! You are free to write for sections such as Character Review and Movie Review, or really anything you'd like to do! There's no pressure to have a huge section; they can be shorter and concise! The application process is very simple, starting with reading the Sign Up page, and sending your application to Meta Knight on the forum. Any idea you have is welcome, and if you have any questions or need help signing up, please feel free to reach out to myself or other 'Shroom peeps!
Section of the Month
| CRITIC CORNER SECTION OF THE MONTH | ||||
|---|---|---|---|---|
| Place | Section | Votes | % | Writer |
| 1st | Anton's Half-Baked Reviews | 15 | 55.56% | Hypnotoad (talk) |
| 2nd | Super Ninelevendo Entertainment Reviews | 6 | 22.22% | Ninelevendo (talk) |
| 3rd | Graphic Review | 5 | 18.52% | FunkyK38 (talk) |
A Paper Mario: The Origami King Review
Written by: Paper Plumm (talk)
A few days ago while perusing the Shroom, I learned of the terrible fact that no one had done a review of Paper Mario: The Origami King. If any game deserved a review of it, I feel Origami King is that game. It has plenty of great strengths, but also has many flaws. So here I go. Each month a different aspect of this game will be looked at in full. These will be its story and characters, gameplay, worlds and level design, and the last part will deal with the remaining miscellaneous parts and its conclusion. I hope you enjoy.
Let's look at Origami King's characters. Bobby is an excellent character. One of my biggest complaints with older entries is no matter how deep a partner's past is, as soon as they enter your party they become entirely irrelevant to the overall plot. Because any partner could be out at any time, they could not risk this, and thus the partners only reacted and did not act in the overall plot. Due to Origami King only having one or two partners available at a time, it allows for partners to have a larger stake in the overall plot. Bobby is the best example of this. He's actively with and involved the entire time. He has a whole character arc here and definitely sticks out more in mind than those partners. Character design limitations do not necessarily prevent uniqueness in storytelling. Professor Toad easily feels the most like old partners. He still has an active stake in the plot and is the only one to not die or appear to die over the course of the story. He just kinda stays there, waiting for you. Kamek and Bowser Jr. are a great duo. The two bounce off each other excellently. Bowser also feels great, he feels much more mellowed out and kinda mature here. It's very drastic from other Paper Bowser appearances here and I honestly find this to be his best Paper appearance. Princess Peach exists but doesn't do much. Luigi is a character I often wish got better use. He was really enjoyable but I think his character has way more potential then just as comedic relief. Speaking of comedic relief, the Toads were excellent. One of the things I looked forward to in Color Splash was repainting Colourless Toads, so seeing them expanding this aspect was incredibly enjoyable.
King Olly is one of my favourite Paper Mario villains to look at. One could argue that his motive reveal weakened his character but I disagree. One of the themes of Origami King is to seek enjoyment and originality within everything around you. Olly stands as the antithesis of this. He sees everything around him as the same and boring, and him as the only unique entity. He is so single minded about this he decides to remove it all and make it his brand of originality. Despite this, by doing so he removes any enjoyment and originality from this world. His Origami is all one and the same, essentially a hive mind.
If Olly is the antithesis of this, Olivia is its embodiment. She is so excited about everything around her, taking stride with it all. She seeks a unification of both sides and thinks they can live with each other. She seeks uniqueness even in its uniformity, such as giving Bobby a name despite his lack of one. She ultimately gives Bobby a purpose in life after losing all his memories. Following Bobby's death, Mario attempts to comfort her, with her being reminded of what brought her joy before, the world around her. Olivia's sudden change to joy is in my interpretation not of the nature of bad writing but of Olivia's own nature. She still feels this same sense of guilt inside, but attempts forward with a smile on her face, so those around her don't falter. And then despite these best efforts, those around do falter and she watches as her original goal of saving her brother fails, not due to anything out of her control but by her own hands. This ultimately breaks her psyche fully, everything tried has failed and now her final goal must be ended. Olivia did not end her being accidentally, this was deliberate. She was satisfied with the course she played and decided to no longer be a part of it. It's tragic and while it is poorly written its interpretation still ends up showing through in the end.
Paper Mario: The Origami King is not just another game in the modern tetralogy of games. I believe it represents its final entry. Ever since the modern tetralogy of games began way back with Super, it has been turbulent. Due to surveys at the time, all of its most highly praised aspects were shut down. They were told no originality or new characters, to stop using the gameplay formula that had been used, and to lean into a different art style, and to top it all off, most of the previous games' developers left. So those who were left, why bother? Sticker Star became the worst rated game in the series, with many despising the game. But with the chains in place, what could the developers do? But they did have an opportunity, so embracing the limitations wholeheartedly, Color Splash was made with expanding on what was loved and "repressing" what wasn't. Unfortunately even this didn't work, Color Splash is currently the series' worst seller and its reviews were on the level of Sticker Star. Intelligent Systems and Nintendo as a whole are not dumb. Whatever the formula was, it was clearly not working and thus I imagine this was around the time TTYD's remake was brought into the discussion. I think it's clear now what Origami King represents to this team. This was all or nothing. Whichever game succeeded the most would become the blueprint of the next era of Paper Mario. So naturally they made this the modern tetralogy's magnum opus.
These aren't developers who hate what they are making, perhaps it might have started out that way but one can clearly see the passion these developers put into these projects. Now, with that little discussion out of the way, let us talk about The Legend of Zelda: The Wind Waker. When a book or other form of media references another media it can be just that a reference, but can also allude to a greater idea. The entirety of the Purple Streamer is one massive reference to the game The Legend of Zelda: The Wind Waker. When I was looking at the game's story, this bothered me greatly. What was this reference's point and was it alluding to something greater? So, allow me a brief recap to TLOZ:TWW's story. The Wind Waker was released right off the heels of Ocarina of Time and Majora's Mask, two of the most beloved games in the franchise, and was distinctly different from any of its previous entries. Due to this, it was harshly criticised and shunned by most of the larger gaming community. Its two sequels that followed were seen as weird and experimental, and not nearly as beloved as many of the other games of its franchise, sound familiar? Origami King directly compares its history to Wind Waker's. This isn't just reflective in Wind Waker's tale, it's also very prevalent in the whole game and its characters.
The characters I am referring to are, of course, Olly, Olivia and The Origami Craftsman. The Origami Craftsman of course represents the creators of Paper Mario. He loves his job, the origami he makes. Then one day he decides to try something new, something forbidden. Thus creating Olly. This is similar in a lot of ways to Paper Mario's developers. They made the same games, the same style. But they crossed the line, they made something different and everything went wrong.
Olly in a lot of ways represents the toxicity of reception towards modern Paper Mario. Olly was not born evil, he is good deep down. But he becomes so absorbed in his big flaw and unleashing his wrath upon the world for it that he loses all sense of his own identity. Many of its most toxic fans are quick to point out the tetralogy's atrocious battle system. They become so absorbed in this sentiment, that they are unable to see the good in the series as well. They lose sight of its importance as well. Olivia, meanwhile, represents its good side. She sees it all for what is, a wonderful world. Sure, it has its flaws, but it's a world worth fighting for.
I could go on and on talking about the many different scenes and how they feed into this idea, but I'd rather not keep this too long. So let's end this. Paper Mario is a game with a vast tapestry of stories. It has a really solid overarching story and its small incendiary events are just as excellent. All of which blend seamlessly with the game's other aspects. I find this despite its lack of dialogue to be one of the most enjoyable stories. I wish you all a great August and September, and good luck going back to your studies or job. See you next time, this is Paper Plumm signing off.
Written by: Hypnotoad (talk)
Artwork by: Gabumon (talk)
Austin - Part 2
Local Restaurants and Food Establishments
This month I'll be covering restaurants and places you can get food around Austin, whether it's local markets, actual restaurants, or chains that had a start somewhat locally.
The Texas Farmers’ Market
Whenever I go on a vacation somewhere I always make sure to look up their farmers’ markets as they’re routinely and conceptually offering many regional and homegrown items that may be locally famous, but rarely seen in brick-and-mortar stores. I think what initially enamored me to them was stumbling out of my hotel in Paris by myself with no plan at all and just happening upon Marché Bastille, seeing true civilian life and culture along with plentiful food options that weren’t aimed at tourists and the ultra-wealthy like everything else I had come across. Living in Orlando has spoiled me with year-round summer, which certainly has its flaws in terms of sheer heat and the amount of bugs that want to eat me, but farmers’ markets here never close for the season as a result, and has allowed me to ingrain myself as a local much faster; whereas in New York they ran maybe from April to early September with maaaaaybe 4 weeks of good weather somewhere in there. Being that Austin is the Texas state capital it has The Texas Farmers’ Market, which at the time of me visiting Austin in March 2024 took place at two locations: Lakeline Mall on Saturday, and Mueller on Sunday.
Lakeline
Being that time, at this moment, moves forward linearly, I went to the Lakeline market on Saturday first. The issue with this is the Lakeline Mall is about a 25 minute (~16 mile) drive from where my hotel was, and a Lyft would’ve been enormously expensive. At the sacrifice of some time I opted to try to use a Lime scooter for as much of the way as I could, as it would cost significantly less and also has been a way for me to better see things around the area with a more fair chance of actually stopping at them on a whim. Little did I know that No Go Zones existed, and rampant construction would pigeonhole me into these areas and wrong-way traffic in what turned out to be one of the most miserable times I’ve had in years. This is of no fault to anything beyond the esoteric nature of highway construction, but served as a learning experience as I ended up only getting about 4 miles along before just summoning a Lyft to take me the rest of the way for about $45.
I’m not sure what I expected from a farmers’ market at a mall; I mean, some malls have large grassy areas, perhaps large courtyards, maybe an event space indoors, but what is most obvious nowadays and where the Lakeline market was located was in an enormous and empty parking lot. Space is space, but this just wasn’t cute, wasn’t picturesque (which is honestly half of why people even go), and wasn’t comfortable to walk on. Worse yet, parking lots have no shade, and direct sunlight with Texan heat made for a miserable experience that was made even worse by there being absolutely no seating available aside from disgusting curbs near car exhaust or on balding grassy medians covered with ant hills and cigarette butts. This market had usual farmers’ market standards: honey, jams, microgreens, a french baker, raw milk, elderberry syrup, CBD for kids, jewelry tents that absolutely no one is looking at, gluten-free cakes that absolutely no one is looking at. What I bought there was a wildly expensive cookie cake thing from the french baker because I would’ve felt bad for not buying anything after having looked for so long, and a smoked salmon bagel that had way too much cream cheese to actually enjoy on any realistic human level mostly due to the fact that I had to eat it in the hot sun standing up. Both were actually really good, ESPECIALLY the bagel and how it felt like it filled my soul; solid food to be snacking on, but were not designed to be consumed while walking around if you have any intention on actually doing anything else with your hands or not making an absolute mess. Some solid local brands that seemed to be big names in the area, with several boasting that their products are available at Whole Foods and other area grocery stores, showed me that potential was there but the venue and locale offered a weak backdrop. Solid quality control with vendor acceptance as I did not see a single MLM scam or corporate entity, with a solid push towards sustainability and direct local producers, and I extremely appreciate that their website has a list of every vendor each week with links to pages for them all. One walkthrough was enough as it just left me feeling very little other than misanthropic and sweaty and I instead wandered into the antithetical shopping mall. Luckily this farmers’ market wasn’t the only thing I visited here, also checking out the mall, H-E-B plus!, and Alamo Drafthouse.
As of May 2024 the Lakeline location moved to the Bell District in the suburb of Cedar Park, just about a 10 minute drive north from the mall, and I believe this to be the correct decision. At their new location on Bell, the main issues I had at Lakeline are resolved, as there’s a decent amount of shade and at least an attempt at providing ample seating, complete with almost entirely the same vendors. It seems that some people are upset by this change, though, as there’s less parking, obviously, as that removes a significant reason people chose Lakeline over Mueller.
Mueller
The main gripe with this one from locals is the aforementioned parking, but as my hotel was within walking distance from here it was actually extremely convenient and I could not be happier with my selection of location. This one takes place in Mueller, a master-planned community in north eastern Austin. There are multiple parking garages in closer distance to the market than my hotel, and street parking is free on Sunday, so I can’t say that there’s no effort to accommodate, but the sheer amount of people here was genuinely astonishing. A good amount of the same vendors as the Lakeline market, which anyone who ever goes to a variety of farmers’ markets in any 200 mile radius will discover, but had differences that were more geared to freshly prepared food that you can enjoy while wandering the area and enjoying their ample seating and grassy field. The vibes overall were just immaculate; good weather aided it, no doubt, but everyone around seemed to be having more fun, more talkative, interactive, vibrant, just raised the atmosphere. With some vendors being placed indoors, others outside, around a corner, spread throughout a park area, it was just interesting to walk around and discover things, and even move to a different area to enjoy some good people-watching if things started to get overwhelming.
An issue I had with this one specifically is the sheer amount of people making the lines for nearly every single food vendor excruciatingly long. At the markets local to me I can always expect the fresh lemonade stand to have easily a 25 minute wait at minimum and can make the sole determination of if I want it or not, but at the Texas Farmers’ Market at Mueller it was just simply every single one. Luckily, several factors synergized in ways that reduced the pain from this: the event is partially indoors with what seemed to be a quarter of the vendors inside, and the inside space being limited in terms of having both walkable pathways around and also lines, guiding the choices of this market’s more younger and physically asocial population to opt to just keep walking around until they can just walk right up. If this were to happen with the older clientele I typically see at my local markets, this would simply result in traffic jams and clogged paths with groups of people chatting. Babystrollers were an issue, and being in a wealthy planned-family section of the city the strollers were all basically SUVs and piloted by some of the most self-centered self-absorbed self-interested people who could possibly exist as they frequently parked their strollers perpendicular across pathways, but nothing that some good ol’ New York hand gestures and “are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me” won’t fix up quick.
Teddy V Patisserie is a vendor I saw at both locations, and also sells products at many Central Market locations along with many Austin-local grocery stores. They’re apparently very popular in the area for their half-pound cookies, and I’m familiar with a local wildly popular half-pound cookie, so I chose to try their massive walnut chocolate chip cookies, and it just wasn’t as impressive as, say, a bag of regular cookies; I get it’s their gimmick but they were just too thick, ended up too dry as a result, and awkward to eat when I bet that a more standard cookie size would’ve been absolutely amazing. I also stood in line for a while outside for some kolaches, which I can safely put in the ‘they were good and I enjoyed them’ category, but have nothing else to say beyond “it sure was bread with fruit/hot dog in it”. I wish I had something more to say, but I truly don’t, soft and sweet bread with a filling shoved inside or slopped on top, slightly different than slightly flakier danish, honestly not anything drastically new but I guess it has a strong following in Texas and the local Czech community, so, it ends up available in more dedicated places than just grocery store bakeries. Though I enjoyed this, and while other stands looked good, I just absolutely did not want to wait in another line again and really didn’t get that much. To avoid this catastrophe I’d recommend doing a lap around the place first to scope out options, and for bonus points if you’re with friends or family to all wait in lines individually with lists of things everyone wants and just get back together after; after all, any conversation you could possibly have in the line together would become entertainment for everyone else around.
Both of these locations sure had the fresh produce from local farmers that create the entire intent of a farmers’ market, but it was honestly pretty minimal at least in comparison to the quantity and popularity of all of the other vendors. It felt like a more pure and organic showing of what the area has to offer than any of the ‘Keep Austin Weird’ stuff littering everywhere else. Mueller was by-and-far better, and honestly made an excellent showing as a necessary stop during any trip to Central Texas, and I’d easily recommend it as a must-visit. With Mueller being located within an active community, and not a parking lot, it allowed for a morning at the market to easily transition to walking around other shops, visiting nearby restaurants, visiting the enormous H-E-B, and turning it into a whole day.
Alamo Drafthouse Cinemas
Founded in 1997, Alamo Drafthouse Cinemas “gives a shit” about the movie experience. All I ever hear about Alamo Drafthouse is how it’s perfect, it’s amazing, it’s a movie fan’s dream, a theater for people who aren’t just watching movies but are into cinema. A place where talking is banned, using phones will get you kicked out, food and drinks are spirited to you, cinema can be enjoyed alongside highbrow peers while the peasants at Regal toil with an experience not crafted by true auteurs. All of this is made possible by a commitment to a quality experience through alleged theater infrastructure, a premier dining experience, and a solid list of rules to keep audiences respectfully in check. The way this worked was before the movie started you could write down some stuff you wanted to be delivered whenever it came up, and then after the lights dimmed and movie started you just followed this same process while a handful of workers roamed the rows looking for sheets of paper left for them to grab. I appreciated this process in the sense that I would never get food under any other circumstances at a theater, especially when the movie is already playing; I never understand people who leave to go get more popcorn or a drink, missing a good 10-15 minute chunk of a 90-120 minute experience.
The Theater
The ticket for the movie was only $10.50, while Regal tickets currently sit around like $19 unless you go on a Value Day, which should’ve been a hint of the quality of the experience. I chose to view this as more of an enticement to get in with the expectation that you’re coming to the Alamo Drafthouse to pay more to get food and beer, mostly because I was going to be doing this regardless and needed something to look forward to. The seats didn’t recline at all, which shocked me because I would’ve figured this would be standard for what’s intended to be a higher-end ultimate theater experience, but I guess I should’ve compared this theater to others in the area, and some that apparently even have sofas. I don’t fault myself for this, as I chose the Lakeline theater for its location to justify coming this way for the Farmers’ Market, and instead believe that these theaters should be more open that they chose to have the worst kind of chairs, perhaps featuring that information in large font up top. Uncomfortably close to both people on each side of me, which was irritating because I chose a closed-caption screening that had less people attending and they still chose to park themselves immediately next to me. Both of them had their arms on the shared armrests leaving me with none for myself, which is their own personal faults as they had no one to their other sides and could’ve had a different armrest for themselves but chose to take both of mine, but I will also harshly fault Alamo for allowing this to happen by designing a theater that has shared armrests to begin with. Worse yet, these seat designs also featured a shared table, with no clear division for sides, forcing on me a vaguely-cafeteria feel for how I had to station my food alongside my table partner in some sorta silent acceptance. I think the seats were heated, buttons to toggle that, buttons to raise or lower the backrest or something, but after the lights were dimmed it was incredibly difficult seeing what any of these were, and unlike my seat neighbors I found it a bit uncouth to diddle around with them without knowing if it would summon a worker or set off fireworks or any number of unknown feats unadvertised. All of these purposely-limited features stinks with the foul aura of airliner cabin optimization, cramming in as many people as possible to increase potential ticket sales, at the phenomenal and debilitating cost of a far more uncomfortable theater experience than even when I was in college with theater major friends who made it an explicit point to be loud and obnoxious during a film playing.
Alamo has some house rules that helps to establish their culture and cred. “We encourage you to arrive at the theater up to 30 minutes early to enjoy our custom-made, ad-free preshow”, which sounds terrifying, but it’s really just a handful of interviews, behind-the-scenes shenanigans, little shorts, goofy things that are actually kinda cute. This time can also be used to settle in, look over the menu, order some food, get it, and inevitably eat it all before the actual movie begins and still give you time to order and wait for more. After the lights dimmed it became hard to see what to order or if I was accurately writing down anything legible, but the more I did it I started to feel more comfortable with it and decided that this should be the standard dining experience. Rather than dealing with chatty servers, I just write something down and they come by and take it without me having to stop what I’m doing to go through the honorable motions. Dehumanizing in a way? Sure, I suppose, but there’s dignity to be salvaged in not having to perform for the table. One of the things they’ve banned is entering a movie after it has started, punishing poor punctuality in the name of providing a high quality experience for guests. I’m sure bathroom breaks are a different story, despite having the same effect of seeing someone walk through, a door open with light spilling in, and a near-guarantee that of course the person trying to leave and get back in is someone in your row who can’t go the other way. What I honestly believe, though, is all of the workers skittering around was several orders of magnitude more distracting than a person or two walking in or out a couple times. They generated immensely higher gross profits by doing all of this running around, getting more people to buy more food, and I’m sure I’m the only one who is complaining about it, but they ran around nearly constantly grabbing all of the hand-written orders and pretty much every time having to stop while in front of the person–who, keep in mind, are all incredibly close together with these stupid seats–and whisper with the person ordering.
Their more famous rule, though, is absolutely no talking or texting. “We work hard to give you a premium experience with the sharpest picture and clearest sound in the biz, so we’re not about to let someone’s cell phone ruin that for you. That’s where our ironclad no talking/no texting policy comes in.” While literally every other theater has similar etiquette rules, Alamo takes pride in thoroughly enforcing them as one of their core tenets to upholding a quality experience, and use it as a point of advertising. People who break this rule get warned first, then kicked out if the disruption continues, but this disclaimer and known consequence doesn’t always prevent the bad acts from happening in the first place. Throughout the entire movie the guy to the left of me kept checking his phone, with decreasing subtlety as time went on and likely grew bolder knowing that he wasn’t being watched and people weren’t reporting him; I knew that I wasn’t going to because I figured that the servers constantly running around would see the a bright rectangle illuminating one particular guy’s face every few minutes that would hurriedly go away when they’d come by, but I guess I was wrong. Furthermore, the guy to the right kept having his Apple watch go off, making whatever noise it makes and light emit, to an equal consequence of nothing. With the sheer amount of workers buzzing around, I don’t think it should require community-led vigilance to get this allegedly unwavering rule enforced, which led me feeling more disappointed with Alamo than I was upset with the disturbances.
The way I described this to friends with my live impressions as I sat down in the lobby to decompress after the movie was “I'm not impressed. It is a movie theater. It has food. It is like a streetlight to homoerotically-dressed moths. Never have I seen more men wearing mesh shirts outside of a gay club.” This somewhat crass observation tells me more that the real theater here is the theatrics of coming here. A younger, more educated audience seeking not so much entertainment and value that a full family might be coming for, but to feel a sense of artistry and connection to the films they’re coming to watch. Reshapes it as something cool, a chic event, hitting that local independent theater vibe but actually shows more than one film a month. Overall, I’m not convinced that Alamo Drafthouse is anything more than Reddit cred, something to namedrop in a humblebrag review on Letterboxd, when in all actuality it felt like a substandard experience than I’d get pretty much anywhere else. Unfortunately, whatever superior screen, projector, sound system, whatever, does not create a higher value for me when the facilities were lacking in ways that felt specifically prohibitive and uncomfortable. Their recent acquisition by Sony hopefully steers things in a better direction, but their history of bankruptcies and canceling of new theaters and projects despite seeming to be raking in more money for food service does not have me feeling very hopeful. Whether this is an indictment of Alamo Drafthouse Cinemas or just revealing the Lakeline area as kinda trash will require giving either another chance, and I’m just not really feeling either.
The Food
One thing I’m fond of is limited-time themed menus, not so much the limited-time part but the thought going into the theme. Any movie theater worth their weight now has plenty of popcorn bucket designs and weird stuff to hit some kind of virality and draw in foot traffic, but with Alamo Drafthouse centering themselves around being a dining experience they have rotating menu items that help make each movie more of an event. For Dune: Part Two they had a few vaguely Middle Eastern/Central African items that included Fremen Desert Dip, Ornithopter Wings, and Spice Popcorn. Being at a movie theater, rather than going for a hummus dip tray or sloppy wings, I went with the popcorn, which, for $11.95, is freshly popped popcorn “tossed with real clarified butter infused with ginger, garlic, and berbere spices”. The popcorn came in such a large size bowl that was really unwieldy and awkward to deal with, especially with having the shared tablespace forcing me to have this on my lap, and was just such an enormous amount that I had no hope of finishing it. It really would’ve been better to offer different sizes; I get that offering one size streamlines it and perhaps forces people like me to get it, but cut the amount in half and still charge like $7 for it and I would’ve been fine. Certainly a unique flavor, one that was pungently spicy in a way that wasn’t overbearing but still compelled me to keep sipping away at my thankfully Bottomless Soda for $5.95 and an Austin Eastciders Original Dry Cider for $6 because why am I at a Drafthouse not getting some kind of draft. Unfortunately, that soda was refilled only twice, with me unsure of it requiring a written note for the servers to come grab as both times they just appeared and took care of it while uncomfortably whispering if I would like a refill. I also got the 10” Thin-crust Pepperoni Pizza for $14.95 because why not, this was basically going to be all I ate today aside from whatever groceries I snagged; a pretty decent snack that I sincerely deny was worth even $9.99 but I’m already in this deep.
All of the food felt very much like standard brewpub fare, higher standard than what I’ve gotten at most theaters I’ve gone to, but lower than if I just went to a Cheddar’s or something. The whole experience cost a total of $60, rounded out from the tip, which is certainly more than I would’ve spent going to a Regal, but I also left full. My personal preference would be to eat after the movie to decompress and talk about the movie with whoever I went with, so I just don’t think my priorities align with Alamo Drafthouse. Maybe if they have a special menu for a movie that I’m extremely excited to go to, and want to drive 4 hours to the closest location, but otherwise I think I’ll pass.
Lick Honest Ice Creams
Another thing I look for in new areas I’m visiting is ice cream shops. Yeah, it’s because I like ice cream and can eat a truckload of it easily, but also the good ones seem to have a finger on the community’s pulse, either ingraining themselves in the area somehow as an active small business, or by just being physically located in interesting areas that I otherwise would’ve skipped over. Lick Honest Ice Creams is a shop that was within walking distance from the Texas Farmers’ Market at Mueller, and was a name I saw all over the place in both recommendations and retail space. Ice cream is always good for these kinds of blissful cozy days just walking around, and a recognizable local brand brings a level of comfort and ease, so this felt perfect.
The ‘Honest’ part of their Honest brand is that there are no artificial colors or flavors, no high fructose corn syrup, no preservatives, the origins of all of their ingredients is known and local if possible, and as much of the inclusions and recipes they can is made in-house. They have cool and unique flavors, which is critical for my interest in any of these places. Strange things and seasonal options help spur curiosity and breathe life. I just wish I could taste them. The ice cream is clearly artisanal with heart and soul put into it, and is of solid quality, but the flavors were barely noticeable beyond the most generic base. I chose Orange Chocolate, which tasted like no more than weak chocolate with no orange to be noticed at all, and the Grapefruit with Champagne Marshmallows, which had absolutely no citrusy tang to it and not a single marshmallow to be found. This had me genuinely questioning if I caught COVID without noticing, but I had been tasting everything else just fine all day. Nothing was freezer burnt or seemed low quality in any way that would compromise the flavor, it was just so minimal.
Despite what glowing reviews say, and what their backstory spins tales of, this very much looks like a big city ice cream shop; and honestly, Vania, if you’re saying this is what a small town shop feels like then I genuinely do not believe you’ve ever entered a zip code with a population of less than 25k. What I envision a small town shop to be is either just shucking Hershey Ice Cream from a barrel, a tiny stand that pumps out soft serve from bulk mixes, or being served from a wooden barn that smells heavily of spoiled milk; but Lick is very clean, streamlined, curated and intentional, heavy on the morals and mission, and very well-marketed with pints and ice cream sandwiches granted shelf space at Whole Foods and many other retail locations. This very much looks like a clone of every other mid-size city’s high-virtue proudly local ice cream shop that acts like they’re the only place using olive oil or cobbler, which is perfectly fine and I actually appreciate their existence, but just because a place uses locally-sourced ingredients and knows where the cows live doesn't mean it's a small town ice cream feel–just so we’re all at an understanding here.
Maybe some flavors are more successful than others and I happened to select the weakest of the season, which puts more weight in taking advantage of free samples no matter how greedy you feel with trying every single one. Luckily for me, my opinion is validated, and what I should’ve done is try some other places out, and did actually stop by Amy’s Ice Cream by the Whole Foods flagship and had a very standard experience which is all it took to feel better. The rest of my options are buying several pints to stuff in a freezer to attempt to consume in a single week, drive a significant distance away from anything else, or build my day around places like Merry Monarch with their horrific hours of 5:30-9pm and closed Sunday through Tuesday while I was there; I guess it was just doomed to be. It’s just that if Lick was voted as the best ice cream in Texas then either Food & Wine magazine has outed itself as being bought and paid for popularity advertising, or the choices are just that dreary.
Colleen’s Kitchen
I’ll start off by saying that I went here entirely because I wanted chicken and waffles, almost entirely for no other reason than that, and jumping off of quick searches for “austin chicken and waffles” and seeing what happens. Colleen’s Kitchen made several lists of recommendations and was within walking distance from things I already planned on doing, so they were added to my list.
Right at the top of the menu, where it should be, is ‘Buttermilk Fried Chicken + Waffles’, with two pieces of boneless fried chicken, a waffle, maple powdered sugar, and syrup all for $19. Seeing the price and then hyperfocusing on the singular ‘waffle’ rather than the plural of ‘waffles’ definitely concerned me, and sorta threw me off of considering other sides to go with it. I definitely wanted to try the Grilled Banana Bread, but now I was unsure what that $9 price would actually bring, and my decision fell to just enjoying the technicality of having chicken and waffles for lunch like I wanted and then moving on with my day. The waffle was in the shape of Texas, because of course it was; tickled me enough to forgive there being only one. It was actually pretty good; I was impressed how breasty the chicken breast was, like it was from a fresh rotisserie rather than a standard processed tender, but it’s obvious they burned it a bit because my nose is very attuned to bad fryer oil smells, if the obvious black char somehow escaped my vision as it had their chef’s quality control. Pictures on their Yelp page indicate that this kind of burnt breading is hit-or-miss, as some others had it and some didn’t, but the chicken I had was much more burnt than anything I saw on here. I’ll be generous enough to chalk this up to a chaotic brunch service that they were handling with as much grace as possible, and perhaps sensed in me that I’m not someone who would fuss much over it when instead they could save the 10 minutes refrying it and push me out sooner to make room for a lady with layered ombre hair.
The actual setting and atmosphere was so light and clean, definitely had that boring church lady feel, that kind of overly sanitized southernness, the ‘ooh hoo hoooo, auntie Colleen has some chicken figurines, she’s sooo kooky and fun and eclectic but classy!’ when the average kooky auntie for me is someone who sells crack, the kind of thing you’d see on tradwife twitter accounts, disconnected from any kind of actual southern ambience and just a white lady posting "bless your heart" memes on facebook (Thanks for the quote, Banjo <3). Kinda reminding me of Chicken Salad Chick and their entire aesthetic but with more actual taste and sensible decor elements that made it feel genuinely welcoming rather than CSC’s unintentional extremely offputting exclusionary WASPiness. It’s not so much the indulgent hospitality that I admire local diners for, but rather the photogenic and demure approach of modesty that feels like the setting of a scripted Real Housewives outing. As I was a solo diner, I was sat at a ‘community table’ where I got to listen to a lady complain about everything she possibly could, primarily about the wait on food despite the place being PACKED with people as the enormous farmers market within 40 seconds walking distance was in full swing, before becoming self-aware 25 minutes in and realizing that she was irritating, disappeared into the bathroom, and came back kinda whining and making consolations in an attempt to save face and say SOMETHING nice. This is not a complaint about the restaurant, of course, and more a defense and acknowledgment of the hellish state of food service that they were managing to operate very smoothly despite the mad rush and circumstances and still had a miserable woman project her multiple personal shortcomings on the place in what ended up being ineffectual as their great service allowed for no openings.
Kemuri Tatsu-ya
Kemuri Tatsu-ya was on several recommendation lists for restaurants in Austin, lists that I generally glance at but really don’t bother with because the places on them are often Michelin-starred intellectual slop or have ‘$$$$’ on Google Maps. Founded in 2017 by the same owners of Ramen Tatsu-ya, a popular Austin ramen shop with several locations around Austin, it quickly won over the hearts of foodies and critics who named it one of the best new restaurants. Branded as a ‘Texas Izakaya & Smokehouse’–a Japanese/Texan fusion restaurant–they serve dishes that meld the two cuisines in fun and creative ways, alongside plenty of beer, liquor, and themed cocktails. I chose to go here because I’ve had fantastic experiences at a local izakaya, Susuru, and enjoyed how the theming became part of the eating experience in a way that allowed for enough immersion and dissociation from reality, if just for 90 minutes, to remember that life is here to be lived. Also, because they serve brisket, and this technicality for trying true Texan brisket felt silly enough to go for it.
I set up a reservation because I had no clue how busy this place was gonna be, or how limited the seating. I greatly appreciate this whole new world where you can text whoever is coordinating the reservations to let them know that you’re going to be late because your Lyft driver not only was unable to find the entrance to the hotel for a whole 20 minutes, but then proceeded to drive significantly under the speed limit the whole time. Thankfully it was like 6:10pm on a Thursday so it wasn’t very busy at all, and the host staff was pretty laid back. Being a solo diner likely helped with this with me not needing a full table, so I was taken to the bar seating. I can’t say I was initially thrilled about it as I'm very cat-like in my preference of booths and their high sides and defensive positions, but at least I was sat next to a wall. The atmosphere and decor sell this place well before the food does, a stylized east-meets-west with a tastefully curated blend of Japanese road signs, retro advertisements, and bamboo ceilings alongside cowboy hats, farm tools, and hunting trophies that marvelously worked in harmony. This trickles down to details like the physical dishes the food was served on, being a mix of traditional earthenware and metallic cafeteria trays. It oozed a sense of warmth and comfort that could not be pinned down to one individual’s experience and rather a universal sense that almost felt liminal if not for the bright friendliness exuded from everyone around.
The playfulness in the decor is present on the menu too, both in design and items offered. Their Classics selection puts the most focus on the Texas-Japan dichotomy, with items like Chili Cheese Takoyaki (octopus fritter with chili) and Hot Pocketz (bbq brisket and smoked gouda wrapped in a crispy tofu skin), but the rest of the menu is filled with curious surprises like the Taiyaki Cornbread, BBQ Tsukemen, and of course the Puff Puff Pass cocktail for two that got them some viral cred. Their chinmi menu offers ‘exotics’ and ‘rarities’ for those gutsy enough to try dishes like shiokara that are an acquired taste even to native Japanese, providing an exciting dive into the chefs’ culinary skills and suggested sake pairings. I feel like I missed out by skipping this, but I’m confident that this delicacy menu should be enjoyed only with a group of close friends with a penchant for thrill and adventure on a scale that can appeal to the cautious and the daring, though I’m equally sure that it would’ve been a good experience having the server watch my reaction.
My bill included, in the order of arrival, the Matcha Painkiller ($7.50), Cornbread Taiyaki ($3.25), Brisket Tsukemen ($15), Ton Maki ($9), Tebasaki Chicken Skewer ($9), and Cornbread Pudding ($14) plus tax for a total of $62.52 before my like 25% tip or so. Admittedly not a fan of matcha or coconut, I still went with the Matcha Painkiller because I liked the maneki-neko container it came in and I was in the mood to release my biases, and found it tasty enough to struggle saving it for the entirety of my stay. The Cornbread Taiyaki had no filling, but came with a side of sesame butter and honey; felt and tasted fresh from the pan, as I’m sure it was, with the bread being so seductively sweet and crispy with a warmth that spread. The Brisket Tsukemen is what I chose for an entree, eschewing the more traditional brisket tray for the ramen bowl. Initially a little disappointed at the slim amount of brisket provided, I found myself not caring so much about that with my Ton Maki and Tebasaki Skewers coming out shortly after, providing more gorgeously smoked meat to bulk with. I was a bit perplexed with how to properly eat the Tebasaki Skewers, as they were essentially bone-in chicken wings on a stick that I had to pull off and eat individually as I lacked the knowledge and grace and euphemistic fortitude to properly suck and slobber them off. While the Brisket Tsukemen is what I came here for, it was the perfection of the sides and ultimately the Cornbread Pudding that stole the show. For the dessert, it was sake kasu cornbread, candied pecans, sesame seeds, Blue Bell homemade vanilla ice cream, and seasonal fruit that ended up being a heaping stack of strawberries, served in a miniature skillet fresh from the stovetop. By this point I was already stuffed, but the Cornbread Pudding was so good that I found a way to cram it all in–sticky, sweet, crunchy, chewy, hot, cold, savory, fruity, it was everything.
It seems I have a knack for getting sat next to people on a first or second date, with the pair here being a business bro and a surgeon feminist, with her skillfully alternating between trauma-dumping super hard about her dead brother and then dropping insanely obvious horny hints, while he missed every single one while teetering back and forth between asking needlessly complicated questions or mansplaining how to write an email at her. I share this detail because the server was also very talkative, and kept zinging them with solid reads that they kept completely missing, but also was extremely kind to me and made me feel very welcomed and attended to in a situation where I was feeling very alone. Going to restaurants solo is always weird for me–feels awkward and isolating, quiet and typically uncomfortable. I will credit the servers at Kemuri with understanding basic social cues, like my providing either a weak or a full-throated response to something they said as an indication to either let me continue eating or continue talking with me, respectively, a soft skill that far too many wait staff neglect to put care into. It’s not missed on me that happily slurping away at a very strong mix of shochu and rum lubricated my social wheels and numbed anxiety I tend to have, but hitting that level of comfort to be able to relax and escape is exactly what a traditional izakaya should be and Kemuri Tatsu-ya should be proud.
Whataburger
The fun thing about traveling all over is seeing regional chain stores and getting excited over what’s essentially a really trash franchise chain frozen burger. Whataburger is one of these, but slightly different, focusing on cooking everything fresh and made-to-order. This, along with plenty of nostalgia and waxing poetically about American gothic, has made this 24-hour fast food burger joint into an unlikely source of Texan pride.
My experience was that of just barreling through downtown Austin on a scooter, being kinda hungry after visiting like eight grocery stores and buying mostly just chocolate bars and weird milk, and seeing the big ‘W’ lit up. Whataburger was on my list of regional things to try, and until now just never made a special trip out, so seeing it so close felt like an opportunity I had to take. When I got there I couldn’t get in through the one side because the glass was broken, and everyone looked a little sketchy, but that’s all part of the spirit. I was left alone by everyone, including the workers after they dropped my food off, and was able to just chill. It had gotten dark by this point, and being in a city I was unfamiliar with I had to gather my bearings before figuring out what I’m doing next, and this just felt like a save point.
When walking in there’s a kiosk you can order at, which has increased in popularity in many food places, and I absolutely adore it because it gives me time to peruse the menu more closely and make my decisions without drastically affecting the pace of another person’s day. I chose the Sweet & Spicy Bacon Burger, and made it a Whatameal with medium fries and a medium drink, upgrading my drink to a milkshake for a total of like $14–about average and unfortunately a little lower than what current prices are at for similar meals. Being a special advertised item, I made sure to get the Dr Pepper Malt Shake. The Dr Pepper flavor was there, but more on the backend as you swallowed it and otherwise just tasted like a sweet milkshake. The color made my brain think it was chocolate, and I think it just speaks more towards the state of fast food milkshakes that it didn’t taste too different from a chocolate shake anyways as none of them really have any strong flavoring. It was nice to dip my fries into, though, as they were hot and crispy and perfectly salty. The burger was alright, came with american and monterey jack cheese, grilled onions, and mustard alongside the eponymous items. I just wish it gave me the option to not include ketchup; at least, I think that was ketchup on there because if that was the spicy sauce it sure as heck was not spicy. I chose a brioche bun, out of options that included a large bun, small bun, and Texas toast, then also added lettuce and pickles because that little bit of cool crunch and vinegar is often desperately needed. I was genuinely amazed at how fresh and delicious the bacon looked, and overall just how nice the entire burger looked put together. You take those things for granted when the standard has become the most laziest and weak floppy pickle slapped onto an uneven and barely reheated burger you get from more popular national chains, so it feels silly to recognize when a cheap fast burger like this looks like a real burger, but it’s a necessary observation.
Whataburger has entered and left and will re-enter the Orlando market, as Orlando collects regional chains like Pokémon cards. I wouldn’t be opposed to trying them again, but I’ll be curious to see if their strong Texan support carries it like it has Buc-ee’s.
Antonelli’s Cheese Shop
Antonelli’s Cheese Shop in Hyde Park is what I envisioned for the Whole Foods specialty cheese section I rambled on about last month, and realistically I support the existence of this more. They offered cheese tasting, which was good and bad; good that it allowed me to figure out which one I wanted, but bad because it allowed the couple who came in before me to sample absolutely everything in the case while they stood in front of the whole thing blocking me from seeing what was in it clearly as they hogged the whole narrow store while they grabbed wine bottles to do fake-casual posing for photos of them looking at the labels. EXTREMELY knowledgeable crew, with a large variety of cheese that spanned many regions, types, and tastes, along with a good selection of accompanying items for charcuterie and pairings. A lot of specialty chocolate bars are available, including rare and more well-known ones, alongside plenty of jams, spreads, prepackaged meats and boards, everything you’d need to make a cute little date night or just engorge yourself on gouda as I did.
Not a lot to say, just a really good cheese shop that I feel should be highlighted in some way.
Quack’s 43rd Street Bakery
Now, as much as I talk about how delis that are too clean just come off as suspicious, I had this statement tested when I came to Quack’s 43rd Street Bakery. Absolutely I would not say this place was dirty, by any means, but it was definitely not as sparkling as their other two locations Captain Quack’s Coffeehouse and Lady Quack’s Cakery. It had that lived-in and loved kinda simplicity to it that made it feel more locally grown and not a sterilized start-up, felt full of passion and care. Nestled close to Antonelli’s, and right across the street from Fresh Plus Grocery, in the same particular vein of crunchy idealism dirtiness, Quack’s was very openly queer, with multiple pride flags proudly displayed. All of the people there–workers and customers–seemed close and familiar, a very open environment that just felt incredibly inviting, comforting, and fun.
They offered a variety of coffees, teas, and other drinks, along with cookies, cupcakes, brownies, tarts, pies, cakes, all sorts of baked treats. Thoroughly impressive artistry with their cookie and cake designs, it was hard to not buy at least one of everything. I got the Quack’s Cocoa (cocoa, cinnamon, cayenne, and vanilla), a magic pecan bar, a snickerdoodle cookie, and an incredibly cute shortbread cookie decorated like an armadillo. Everything tasted really good and really fresh, despite it being closer to the evening, with it all tasting like a generous hug. The prices were fair, definitely edging on being a luxury treat, but by no means were they absurd or predatory. Just a couple tables and chairs outside where you can hear the next group over vastly oversharing about their life in ways that were intoxicatingly scandalous providing ample entertainment, but the vibe was very much that of a cute close-knit community coffee shop and bakery that you can just ride your bike up to and get a cupcake shaped like a hamburger.
Terry Black’s
Far from being the Austin foodie tour that most others even bother coming to this city for, I did not intend on trying any brisket. Heathen, blasphemer, yankee, I don’t care how good it is because nearly everything I read about and heard personal anecdotes of just did not seem like my kinda thing. I’m not a fan of coleslaw, don’t like beans at all, the popularity of these places is so large that wait times can take a while, upwards of 6 hours if you want to get the better ones, with the lines likened to tailgating where you can talk it up with those waiting around you as if bringing lawn chairs and a cooler filled with drinks is a reasonable thing to be thinking and actually doing while waiting for food. Suggesting to go on a weekday because the wait is only 2-3 hours isn’t any better because you still need to physically be in the line. I get enough of the chatty queue neighbors going to Disney World all the time and I’m just not willing to put myself in that situation for enormous and expensive portions of a food that I just don’t have any personal appreciation of, like, I’m the one getting the fish & chips or chicken tender plate at a steakhouse, this is not for me. Like, come on, that article I posted is tagged as “in town for one day” and you’re recommending standing in line from 7am to 1pm in blazing sun just to have a barbecue tray? What a horrifically boring thing to be proud of at worst, and a terrible condemnation of the city of Austin at best if there was nothing else for you to spend your time doing; absolute disgusting shame and truly deplorable to even be suggesting this, Brooke, I hope that affiliate link click revenue is worth it for selling your soul you absolute monster. But, on my final full day, after a personally eventful morning, I decided to just suck it up and go to one, because it’s my first time in Texas with no plans for it happening again in the foreseeable future, so missing out on this massive segment of their food and culture just seemed like it would’ve been a mistake. Not Franklin’s because I just extremely didn’t want to support that kind of thing, not the smaller ones because at that point I can just do 4 Rivers locally, so Terry Black’s became the choice as it’s in the upper echelon, made quite a name for itself in only 10 years which I suppose is a story in itself that I don’t care to get into, but promised a more sane experience and its location pulled me towards other areas of the city I had plans for.
I nearly died because my Lyft driver was a modern southern baptist minister who I guess let Jesus take the wheel because through His guidance she did NOT let a single car-width space escape her swift grasp. She saw I was going to Terry Black's and she said “I know that boy is white but he knows how to smoke his meat GOOD. You gonna leave SATISFIED” and then swerved into traffic and sat perpendicular across opposing traffic while slamming her horn rather than waiting to turn. I gave her a tip and a Good Driving note because I know this woman would’ve pulled out a baseball bat to beat anyone else to death if they tried to get in front of me. My major gripes about this place all revolve around the hype and the immediate effects of that, which I believe should condemn the entire smokehouse barbecue lifestyle and not just Terry Black’s, though, from what I read about other places, this one in particular could serve to shut down for a good week or two to train their staff on how to act like considerate beings. The line didn’t feel as bad as I was led to believe it would be, perhaps in great part due to me going on Monday at 1pm, but as I’m checking my timestamps on Lyft rides and pictures it’s becoming evident: I got in line at 11:50am and sat down with my food at 1:15pm. This is unacceptable for any standard of food from what I believe should be reality, but it’s become a point of pride for many Texan brisket places to emphasize just how popular they are and drive a sense of urgency to arrive earlier and earlier to get any of their limited product in a way I’ve been seeing getting disconcertingly mirrored across the country. Yeah, sometimes the wait for The Cheesecake Factory is also this long, but that’s if you go at peak times without a reservation, and even then you’re free to wander around once you got that little remote blinker that will go off, or even a mobile/text to let you know your table is ready as I had with Kemuri Tatsu-ya. One way people pass the time in line is by talking with other people in the line; sure, some people may like that, but I don’t, and to just start doing it and not pick up on any physical and verbal cues that I want nothing more than for you to rapidly disintegrate is a factor that has me not want to experience something like this again. Sure, you can call me antisocial, but I’m just anxious and don’t want to smalltalk with people who I’m not sure if I need to worry about hatecriming me if I put a little too much glitter in how I speak whether I’m in Austin or not. If you are someone, like my dad, who cannot walk through public without telling random strangers full life stories unprompted then this is a great place to wait an hour or more for some food.
As the line meandered along, I came across a window where you could order beer at, which no one cared about it seemed, before finally getting inside. Once inside the area is riddled with shirts, hats, freezers, wine displays, all kinds of impulse purchase things before getting to where you’d first order your sides at one area and then meat at another. From this point on the guy behind me would NOT shut up, would NOT stop asking me if this is my first time, saying how excited he is to come back, that this is his second time, that he brought his wife this time, that he whatever whatever. I did my best to ignore him and provide any nonverbal indication that I incredibly did not want to have this conversation with him, but he just kept nervously laughing at my silence before going into another question. Once we got to where you ordered sides you had to be ready, as the ladies back there were driving everyone through as quickly as possible. Good for them, honestly, and luckily I knew this much ahead of time and tried to be ready for what I wanted because god forbid you ask a question and slow the line down. After being shoved through this part, next up was where they sliced meat fresh for whatever you wanted, to then be quickly ushered to pay and then be spat out into the open where a crowd of confused people had formed. For having good line control through the whole process until here, it felt like a water slide with too many people being sent down, a traffic pileup on an icy road, escalator moving too quickly, any kind of chaotic buildup analogy makes you understand how uncomfortable it was, especially on an incredibly slippery tile floor. In this massive pile somewhere was the incredibly small drink fountain area, which seemed to be perpetually in process of being restocked and I pity the worker given that sisyphean task, but it was ridiculous trying to get a cup filled here with so many people in the way with no sense of order in who’s in line for a drink and who’s just diddling around. I could’ve sat on the outside patio, but it was just way too hot, and honestly when is sitting outside ever the better option when considering bugs and elements.
This can almost all be totally ignored as just a personal gripe that has really no effect if you truly know what experience you’re in for, and just me sounding off to set free some thoughts, but what is actually an issue is their floor management. Corralling dumb herds of people through the line is one thing, getting them to all flow through the cafeteria quickly without dawdling is one thing, being somewhat quick with what you want to order is one thing, but constantly hovering around me looking annoyed and trying to take away my food the moment I set down my fork and maybe take a sip of my iced tea that I need to sip gingerly from because they apparently HAVE to make it fresh once they figure out they’ve ran out rather than anticipating business and having it already prepared activates fight-or-flight anger with me. Every time he’d come by and reach for my entire tray without even saying anything to me I’d have to say ‘no, I’m still eating’, ‘I’m not finished’, or physically hold my tray down, and he’d make some snide remark like ‘you looked done’ or ‘are you not done yet’ with extremely obvious contempt. I could feel myself vibrating the entire time, my hands shaking so hard that I could barely hold my spoon for the peach cobbler, all due to the whole place being an overstimulation hell. Nothing but chaos and speed, hardly any order in place because of how anxious the floor staff seem to be as well with having to push their way through the fountain pile up to get in and out of their work area, multiplying the effects through me and apparently others around who had no clue where to stand in line for drink refills or how to navigate the labyrinth of tables to find a seat without there being someone on their heels. Now, I get that I was taking pictures of my food, and that this place is super busy and likely needs to have a constant flow and refresh of customers and tables, but I was continuously eating while I was taking pictures because it’s possible to do things with my hands while I’m chewing, and–I can assure you–I did not want to be in here longer than I needed to be. Other people were taking pictures, other people were doing no eating at all while talking and talking, so why? Was it because I was sitting alone at a table meant for two, even though there was no smaller seating? Was I just chosen to be picked on by notoriously grumpy and rude workers? Do they just not care anymore about having return customers because they’ve become such a tourist trap that the stream of new faces is endless?
What I’m honestly the most disappointed about is the bag of Miss Vickie’s brand chips I was given, not because Miss Vickie’s aren’t good or anything, but because this would’ve been a fantastic opportunity to have homemade potato chips and this is honestly such a massive missed opportunity. I understand that a lot of these barbecue places phone the sides in, have other places make their pies, and sure you can say that it’s supporting the community and blah blah but it just feels very meh. In the small town I grew up in, proud family diners and restaurants would have their own recipes, make all of their own desserts and sides, spanning generations of local fame, and instead what I’ve been noticing more and more is little shops that have their minuscule core business of selling nasty coffee or boba tea or whatever and then everything else they sell is just 3rd party small vendors with pre-packed cookies and treats. I guess that kind of case is different, excusable, actionable, supportive, but Frito-Lay and PepsiCo products at a world famous family feud coattail-riding restaurant is just a different level that I feel is just rotten food service gimmicks to bring up the net profit rather than squeezing a little bit of that brisket pride into anything else going on at this place.
I’m not going to make any claims of Terry Black’s being the best, worst, overrated, underrated, any placement relative to others in Austin and Texas in general as I have little to compare it to, and reddit already exists if you care to look into that to cherrypick posts that validate your opinions, but I can say that I don’t think I’ll ever come back here again. I don’t care enough about subtleties in smoked meats, the community atmosphere of waiting in lines for hours, just really anything about this place. Other reviews out there do a great job of fluffing up the experience thoroughly, while I intended on only being a vibe check to cross an item off a list and found my vibes were soured. I’m a miserable person and this was a miserable experience, but give it a try if you’re a social masochist and have opinions on meat salinity. I shouldn’t ever be empathizing with the people giving 1 star reviews on Yelp, but here I am opening that page while writing the final sentences of this review just nodding my head at nearly every single one of them. Theme park wait times, theme park prices, theme park insanity, and without even any rides.
| The 'Shroom: Issue 209 | |
|---|---|
| Staff sections | Staff Notes • The 'Shroom Spotlight • Poochy's Picks • Credits |
| Features | Fake News • Fun Stuff • Palette Swap • Pipe Plaza • Critic Corner • Strategy Wing |
