Food Food Food

That's what I seem to be doing while visiting my family here in Texas. To walk it off, perhaps I should cancel my return flight to Chicago and just walk the 1,200 miles home.

My mom took me to a new Tex-Mex restaurant that featured deep-fried cheese avacadoes: You cut an avacado in half, fill it with fajita beef, mold Monterry Jack cheese around that, coat it with a batter and deep fry it.

Oh. My. God.

Perhpas there IS such a thing as "too much."

Yesterday, I had lunch with my dad at a local Tex-Mex place whose portion sizes border on the obscene.

Then, for dinner, we went to another establishment that has great fried oysters. My dad, step-mother, and I all had the dozen-oyster platter.

Today, we're all going to my aunt and uncle's place on the family ranch for a family reunion. My uncle is the one that makes the award-winning fajitas, so I'm sure there'll be plenty to eat.

We won't be arriving empty-handed either. Last night, I made Lorraine's fabulous eggnog cake (which truly is fabulous -- I've already made one and tried it) and two buttermilk pies, a southern favorite. Each pie contains two cups of sugar, a stick of butter, three eggs and a cup of buttermilk (and three Tbs. of flour, just in case you want to make one). We'll be taking those even thought my Aunt Dixie told us not to bring anything.

I'll take lots of pictures while on the ranch. It'll make great blog-fodder, especially if I get on a horse or something.

After that, I'm spending three days in Austin, visiting a friend with whom we have our circle of restaurants we always visit. There's "Boofay Palassay" (Buffet Palace) and "A-boo Ga-Den" (Bamboo Garden -- one time some of the neon letters were out, and only "a boo Ga den" were working, so we've called it "A-Boo Ga-Den" ever since. That was about twenty years ago. )

We'll also have to eat green enchiladas at a place called Matt's and (please don't laugh) a big breakfast at I-Hop.
We like big breakfasts at I-Hop.

I'd better call Continental Airlines and cancel that flight. . . .