The Besser’s Do Austin. Chapter 2. Settling in.

[written by Paul; edited by Kathy]

When we first agreed to move to Texas, my wife jokingly suggested that I was taking her away from her family and friends in California to another foreign country to give birth This was a not-so-subtle reference to our 6-month Belgium assignment where Dane was born (in Brussels). I have now concluded that her statement is closer to the truth than I originally thought!
The other day I was invited to a lunch with a director at SEMATECH, who is also a Motorolan. Having lunch offsite at Motorola is quite an adventure, because no good restaurants with fully clothed women are located within 20 minutes of Motorola. So lunch is expected to be a 1.5-hour affair if you go off-site. This lunch was held at this very famous plantation house that is now a restaurant. It is a beautiful restaurant in the middle of a poor neighborhood. The house is authentic and posh, although very simply decorated, on a large plot of land. It has a large porch and stately old oaks and magnolias, as well as peacocks running wild around the premises. The food is very expensive and very good.

But two things just slapped me in the face with the reminder that I am not in Kansas (California) any more, Toto. The first was the incredibly slow pace. There appeared to be only one waitress and one manager for the entire restaurant. And even though we were the only diners present, they were quite content to take our order when they felt the urge. This was a restaurant in the South where lunch proceeded at a slow, relaxed pace. However, this particular restaurant annoyed even those at the table who were from Texas. And even though Austin is now the 18th largest city in the U.S., one of the fastest growing cities in America, and a technology development center for integrated circuits, it is still the South and things are sometimes different here. It reminded me of when I lived in North Carolina.

This argument was supported with the second observation about lunch. For more than ½ of our lunch, the conversation revolved around varmints (or rascals) and how they are eliminated. Possums and ‘coons are considered varmints and not subject to any kind of humanitarian treatment. Stories of varmints living in attics and varmints being displaced into your yard by housing construction were rampant. The discussion turned to whether a metal trap was better than a Smith and Wesson trap. Everyone had an experience trapping some kind of rascal or another, and everyone agreed the possums and cats are stupid and that you don’t want to mess with raccoons, especially cornered ones.

What was particularly entertaining to me was how serious parts of the conversation were. One person, who correctly perceived that I did not bring my gun to Texas, offered to loan me one of his if I should have a ‘rascal problem.’ The way I see it, I had two outs to this suggestion. I could argue that a gun might make too much noise in a residential neighborhood OR that it was that it was just plain dangerous (maybe even illegal) to be shooting guns in an area with such a dense human population. I chose option one. He scoffed at me and suggested that he had some rounds that are quieter than a BB gun when fired from a .22. This is accomplished by utilizing slow travelling ammo that does not break the sound barrier. Thus, there is no popping sound when it is fired. He clearly put a lot of thought into this. I told him I would call him if the varmints were getting the better of me.

Guns are serious in Texas, and we are in the capital of it – Austin. Recently, the legislature began debating a new law that would permit the carrying of concealed weapons into the three places where they are not currently permitted: church, government offices, and hospitals. Apparently, some Texans feel the concealed weapon law is too restrictive. I can see needing a gun in a hospital or a government office, but why you need one in church is beyond me.

Speaking of church, the tally is up to 12. This is the number of neighbors who have offered literature on their church to the agnostic Bessers from California. We are still on the fence. The only shows on TV on Sunday mornings concern fishing and religion. I’d rather take Dane fishing, I think.

As was the case with the varmint discussion, Kathy and I have concluded it is the “shock factor” that motivates many of the discussions with Texans we have met. One person invited us over for a BBQ. Sure, why not, we thought? Then he proudly announced that he was serving dove and quail. This was the shock aspect. In reality, the dove was awesome. He had marinated it and had wrapped the bite-size pieces in bacon and speared them with a toothpick. FYI, nature dictates that dove pieces are “bite size”. Of course, he shot the dove (all 20 of them) while hunting, as he did the deer that was becoming jerky in his one of 4 smokers in the backyard.

Everything is bigger in Texas, including the native appetite for BBQ. BBQ is not just something you do to cook meat. It is a way of life and very serious business in Texas. Most residents have a smoker rather than a grill. Kathy and I have gone to at least six BBQ restaurants since arriving. Of course, we judge BBQ restaurants by four metrics – quality of meat, quality of sauce, quality of sides/drinks, and atmosphere. If you ask Kathy, she is also looking for a place that serves meat some way other than well done. All meat is cooked the entire way through and we cannot figure out why. Anyway, we are in search of a place where all four are good and the meat is medium-rare.

But a true Texan cares only about meat. This was demonstrated in shock experiment #3 of this letter. A buddy of mine that I have not seen in 11 years works at Motorola. He and I graduated from NC State together. He took me to a place for lunch that is 35 miles away. “Kreitz’s is best BBQ in Texas,” proclaims the local paper. It is in a town of 400 residents (Lockhart) and has been operating since 1900. As I walked in, I nearly tripped over the fire for the BBQ. It is on the edge of the entrance for all to see and be burned by. The BBQ pit is 18’ long, and the heat enters it from the external fire. I guess this way the meat is cooked although not directly under the flame. Anyway, there were four choices of meat – pork chops, sausage, lean brisket, or fatty brisket. (BTW, this is the only BBQ place to serve pork chops: it is usually pork roast).

You buy it by the pound. No sauce. No sides. No plate. No fork. You get meat, on wax paper, with a plastic knife and some white bread. In the next room, you can get a beverage, cheddar cheese, pickles, avocados and onions. Then you sit at tables like an elementary school student in a cafeteria and chow. To its credit, it was fantastic and worth the drive. I heard from Scott that he went on a Saturday and waited in line one hour! If you ever go, try to avoid Paul’s three rookie errors: 1) watch out for the fire, 2) don’t ask for a fork or sauce, and 3) don’t ask if there is a place to wash your hands!

On the brighter side of things, Austin has a great place for pregnant women. The Renaissance Women’s Center, which I affectionately refer to as the Renaissance Waiting Center due to the length of time you have to wait to see a Doctor. But Kathy is in love with the place. Every aspect is geared towards women, and this is where she will give birth to our baby boy (in September). It is only 10 minutes from our house and has free valet parking for expectant moms.

Austin also has a wonderful grocery store, Central Market. There is no better place to get groceries. It is laid out like a labyrinth, and you meander through the aisles from fruits and vegetables to meats to breads to canned goods to wines to dairy, etc. And everything is fantastic. They had seven varieties of bananas, they make all their own juices, sushi, and pastas, sell only their own baked breads, and have all kinds of meats, cheeses and fruits for you to sample. You can literally eat your way through the store (Dane does every time we go). We just love the place. You have to come see it!

There is so much more to discuss, but I will save some topics for the next letter. Take care, and please call, e-mail, or, better yet, come see us.