Eatocracy has saddled up in Austin, Texas, all week not only to cover the annual South by Southwest music, film, and interactive conference, but also to prep for the third edition of our Secret Supper. And now, it's officially supper time in Texas.
He's well-known around town for hosting the "Meaty Monday Madness" gathering for his chef friends around the capital city. From there, they gather round and do what they do best: cook and eat. Chefs from fancy white tablecloth places to vegan food trucks to farm-to-table trailers. There is a sense of coexistence, despite varying types of cuisine, and we wanted to bring that same crossroads to the table.
To assist in tonight's meal and in that same spirit of delicious harmony, Chef Northcutt enlisted four of his chef-est friends, including John Galindo, owner of Izzoz Tacos and chef at the Red House Pizzeria; Mat Clouser of Rabbit + Hat Supper Club; Philip Speer, the executive pastry chef at Uchi and Uchiko restaurants; and Plinio Sandalio, the pastry chef at Congress Restaurant.
At an East Austin trailer park eatery, vendors and customers talk about the city's non-traditional food community.
Last night, Paul Liebrandt, subject of director Sally Rowe's new documentary "A Matter of Taste" stepped away from the SXSW fray to chow at Lockhart, Texas stalwart Black's Barbecue. While Liebrandt is known for his artful, on-the-edge cuisine at his New York City restaurant Corton, today, he's not in pursuit of the hautest bites in town. He's hungry for one thing: a really good taco.
Chef, your table is ready. It just might be in a parking lot. In the comments below, help us guide Chef Liebrandt to the very best trucks, trailers and taquerias in town.
Stayed tuned for more from Paul Liebrandt and director Sally Rowe and head to What's Next for full coverage from SXSW.
Eatocracy’s got boots on the ground at the annual South by Southwest conference in Austin, Texas, and we’re prepping for the third edition of our Secret Supper. While we're down here, we're immersing ourselves in the local tastes that not only “keep Austin weird” but also make it uniquely delicious.
Here’s what’s on the menu.
It'd been a beast of a week and I was utterly shot. Between the stress of having my mother in the hospital many states away and a massive onslaught of work, I felt as if the meager amount of sleep I'd manage to capture had absolutely no impact on my body or my psyche.
So I was brittle and bone tired by the time I landed in Austin on Friday night, checked in and slogged across the hotel parking lot to the first lighted place I saw. I approached it from the back - or the aft, as I soon came to realize. It was, of all things, a restaurant shaped like a boat that had just up and run aground into the asphalt , despite the helpful guidance of the equally improbable lighthouse, docked atop a patch of scrubby grass.
I took the only free seat at the U-shaped bar, amongst the men from the auto body shop (if their shirt patches were indeed accurate), young, tattooed Mexican dudes and families gathered for Lenten Friday fish fry.
I ordered a "mick-a-lada,' knowing what I'd get, but I'd never heard it pronounced or actually had one. The young, ink-sleeved shucker looked at me quizzically and then nodded. "Ohhhh, you mean michelada*! What beer?"
My turn to be caught off guard. Uh...uhhh...