In article >, Lee Rudolph
> wrote:

> I did a gig in Huntsville a couple of years ago, and my host and his
> henchman took us to the Cafe Texan. On his recommendation I had their
> chicken-fried steak, which I'd had just once before, 20 years
> ago or so, I think in Amarillo--at that time, because Clavin Trillin had been
> raving about the dish for so long that I though I should give it a try. I
> didn't like it then, and I didn't much like it in Huntsville, though I
> am sure it was very good of its kind. The rest of the meal was,
> however, memorably good (particularly green beans drenched in butter,
> and pecan pie). I can't vouch for the "good prices", since I was
> a guest (on the other hand, I know from my gig that my host is tight-
> fisted, so I can't believe it was very expensive).

I was paying, so I know the prices were good. The food wasn't
wonderful, but it was decent, fresh and kind, and that was astonishing
in country where I felt that decent home cooking wasn't appreciated at
all. It seemed like, at least, a beginning.

>
> I was told that it's also the "first port of call" for all the
> foreign journalists who come to town to cover the executions.
> We were the only customers that evening, however.
>
Were you not there for the executions? I can't think of any other
reason to go there.

The first evening I arrived there my contact, a clever, thoughtful,
intelligent young wonan, arrived hot and fresh at some awful burger
joint near the highway having just watched someone being turned off.

It turned me off my ( already unappealing) meal.


Lazarus