Dinner Report: Clear Springs...

You already know how I feel about Clear Springs Restaurant; I love the place and am a big fan of the catfish there.You'll like the stuffed animals inside. I looked up from the table and saw this duck and kept thinking of Gilbert Gottfried yelling AFLAC! That could make you ask for a different table.

So my daughter does not eat fish (something about owning a fish tank and not possibly being able to eat one of her friends), but she could not wait to get to Clear Springs for the burger.I wouldn't know. When I go to CS, I have one thing on my mind and that is the catfish. This is what a pound of it looks like.My son went with the Mahi Mahi, or in this case we joked, just the Mahi since it was only one piece.Anyway, we gorged ourselves something fierce and even though I didn't eat the whole pound of fish, my son and son-in-law stepped up to help finish things off. We ate so much that this is what we all looked like afterward! Such a precious little girl.If you haven't tried it, Clear Springs is some good eats!

Lunch Report: Shells in Clearwater...

We had no intention of going to the beach in some sort of a "get wet, get sand on ourselves, get sunburned" type of fashion, but it was worth a drive over to Clearwater just to show off the place to my daughter's husband who had never been to Florida before. Make no mistake, there are loads of more finely tuned beaches within the price of gas, but I have always had a fondness for Clearwater, and it is easy.

We all agreed that we were ready for lunch and with the help of Garmin, decided on Shells.

You can't come to Florida and not get yourself some seafood, and this was as good a place as any. We opted to sit outside at Shell's Bridge Bar on a deck with a Tiki Bar. There was a light but solid breeze that kept it somewhat cool, but thankfully we had an umbrella for shade.Our waitress Angie, was Johnny on the spot with iced teas and some incredible, warm and very soft rolls that were simply awesome. I think they could have brought us a few baskets of the rolls and sent us on our way, and we would have all been pleased.

But we ordered lunch and got even more of a treat.Our son-in-law got the Fried Seafood Combo which is loaded with an assortment of shrimp, calamari, coconut shrimp and catfish. With the fries, you could feed a small family of vegans.My wife and daughter shared the same combo but opted for whitefish as opposed to the catfish. My son ordered up a Beer-battered fish and chips platter and he described it as being "Sorta like Long John Silvers, only good."

I got another one of the platters that contained whitefish, bay scallops, shrimp and clams. The plates came with an incredible Cole slaw with a surprise - mandarin orange slices mixed in with it. Who comes up with these little twists? Good choice. As our waitress said, it makes the Cole slaw almost like a dessert.Speaking of the waitress, we had a seasoned pro who worked the entire Bridge Bar area almost unassisted and pulled it off without a hitch. She was quick with a refill of tea, knew all the daily specials and was quick to make suggestions when anyone hesitated with the ordering.

And I darn near stiffed her on the tip. Let me explain. You may recall me complaining about my crappy cell phone that has a mind of its own. I know, I probably should have replaced the stupid thing months ago, but I just haven't. And, since I use the handy Tip Calculator that comes complimentary with my cell phone service, it is often jacked-up just like the rest of the phone.

So, when we got the bill, my wife asked me how much the total was so she could use her phone (which works) to give me a tip amount. I know - we could have avoided all this had I simply demonstrated as much interest in mathematics in school as I do eating. The long and the short of it is, I told my wife the total, she heard a different number and thus, gave me a lesser tip amount than what I think the outstanding service deserved.As we were driving away, everyone totally stuffed and ready for a nap, somehow the cost of lunch came up (I think it was about $78.00 for the five of us) and my wife said, "That's not what you said." Suddenly, I was horrified with the thought that after having such good service, we looked like total cheapskates. My wife had told me a Tip amount of $10 and I left $12.00. I guess, technically $12.00 is fine but I would ask this of those of you who might find yourself in Clearwater, FL and get a hankering for a seafood platter. If you go to Shells, can you give an extra buck or two to Angie, and let her know we appreciated her service.

The Grill Report: Catfish...

Last week or so, I fried up some talapia out on the gas grill so as to avoid the smell of the fish in the kitchen. This week, my wife bought a pound of catfish for me to experiment with, now that we have figured out that you can keep the smell outside.

I have a long history of terrible fish fry incidents. There was the time we bought one of those super deep fryer type things that has a cover on it to keep the oil from splattering all over the place. That was a total disaster. It was then that I decided that we would fry things the old fashioned way - in a skillet with the grease flying up and landing all over everything.

The last time I got a new gas grill (I go through gas grills at a rate of about one every three years), my wife and daughter bought me one and splurged for the little side burner attachment. You never know when you might need to heat up a tortilla. Outside.

But when my wife got the bright idea to ban all fried fish from the kitchen, I suddenly had found the purpose. I guess I just never bothered to look at the pictures on the box - you know, suggested ways to use your new gas grill with side burner attachment.

But enough of my yammering on about the grill.

I love catfish but I prefer it cooked by a licensed fry cook from a certified restaurant. The reason is really simple; the thought of undercooked catfish gives me the creeps. People in my extended family often talk badly behind my back about my tendency to under cook chicken. If I can't cook chicken right, how the hell am I to verify that the fish I'm about to eat is not just this side of sushi? It is quite a problem.So, here is what I did. I used my special breading device to get the catfish nuggets ready for a long bath in a hot greasy tub. I used some standard catfish stuff from HEB. It might have even been Hill Country Fair!I got the fry pan loaded up with some oil and started it frying. If you look at the oil in the pan, you can actually see the trees in the reflection. I assure you, no birds crapped in the oil prior to or during the cooking session.Up next, a few catfish nuggets in for a swim. I started with some of the chunkier nuggets. I'm told that in a deep fryer, you would let these things cook for about 4 minutes. But in this case, the nuggets don't get fully covered in oil, so I figured I'd just let them cook for a several minutes on each side, and it would work out.

Everything went great. If 4 minutes was supposed to do the trick, I was pretty sure I'd be good with about 10 minutes in the pool. Okay, who knows how long I cooked them really? I forgot to look at my watch when I put them in and I just stood there and played with my nuggets until they were done.

I'd show you a picture of the finished product, but I started popping them in my mouth as soon as I pulled them from the pan. They were cooked fully and tasted great! I'll try to save some for you next time.

Lunch Report: Blake's Cafe...

I had this urge for catfish like you would not believe. After my visit to the Rib House the other day, I had a sneaking suspicion that I might need to make a quick return for the fish, but at the last minute, a friend mentioned Blake's Cafe off the FM 725 exit from IH-10 just West of Seguin in McQueeney.

Mind you, it was just after noon and I needed to get myself back into our jurisdiction by 3:30PM for the kick-off of the NFL Playoffs, Packers-Seahawks game, but we figured an hour from San Antonio to get there, an hour to eat and look around, and an hour back, and we'd be in like Flynn.

We have been to the Guadalupe River before, but just never in McQueeney. As soon as you pull off of IH-10 and head toward the small town, you can appreciate the wonderful landscape of the area. I stopped to take pictures at several spots along the way. Loved the cows! As if I have some sort of ESPN or something, I had mentioned on our trip to Buc-ee's that the drive into San Antonio is pretty ugly. I suggested some buried Cadillacs. Here, they chose buried boats! And of course, like all places that are a place, McQueeney has a post office, and I snagged a picture.As soon as we pulled into town and saw Blake's, we were eager to get in and get started with the vittles. The interior is typical of the style I really like - an old barn or dance hall turned into a bar, and later, a restaurant. To top it off, old signs and collectibles attached to the walls and suitable for admiring as you wait for your food.

As we waited to be seated (several minutes as we requested non-smoking vice first available) we looked around and checked out the plates as they came out to other diners. The special of the day included some sort of smothered chicken and before I could allow the thought to leave my lips, my wife reminded me that I was here for the fish.Once seated, we waited for several minutes so people could walk around and ignore us. But as I mentioned, I'm fond of the signs and memorabilia on the walls, so I really wasn't worried. When our waitress did come and take out drink order, I was concerned that she seemed less than enthusiastic about our participation in this afternoon's lunch service.Not to worry. Before too long, we were munching on a hot loaf of bread with butter and my wife was actively engaged in her salad. I'm sure the picture makes the bread look bigger than it really was, or at least, that's my story because it was so good that I'm pretty certain my wife only got one or two small morsels between bites of her salad, and I inhaled the remainder.

I don't mean to be a whiner, but for the size of the crowd, the wait for vittles seemed a bit long. there was no shortage of wait staff, hostess or manager, so I can only guess these was an issue in the kitchen. In fact, the people in a booth behind us were told that there was a glitch with the special and it would take a little longer. But it seemed like it got to them pretty quickly thereafter.

In our case, maybe we were just hungry but I started to look at my watch and wonder if I could make it home for the start of the game. Not to worry. As if they could sense me starting to take pictures of my watch, our plates arrived. My wife is no catfish fan. She ordered up the shrimp and the onion rings. These onion rings look thin, but they were damn tasty and definitely worth ordering. Those are some good sized shrimp and they were good. (Yea, I had to taste them for the accuracy of this report). My wife was put off by the fact that lemon wasn't served with the shrimp (or the fish), but what can you do?

My preference is catfish in the form of fried nuggets, but I ordered the planks they had along with the onion rings and the green beans. The green beans were certainly suitable and in fairness, if I weren't such a green bean connoisseur, they could be the best green beans in the greater McQueeney area, but I had just been to the Rib House on Friday. I did eat them all, and enjoyed them. The catfish was great! Not a single complaint and in fact, I have nothing but good things to say about it. It came served hot and the breading was awesome, cooked right and the tarter sauce that came with it in a little cup was creamy and tasty. The hush puppies were burnt, but I ate them. I had never placed butter on a hush puppy before, but I had used all the tarter sauce on the fish and the first two hush puppies. Try it sometime.I know this doesn't come across as a glowing report for Blake's Cafe but I am willing to believe that we just went on an off day. It was a spur of the moment thing and we placed a little too much emphasis on lunch whereas normally, the focus of our trips to places outside of San Antonio are the town itself. When we decide to eat, we find a place nearby and enjoy the surprise of it. In this case, we drove an hour to eat and were instead extremely happy about the town that surrounded the restaurant. I want to go back if only to take a few more pictures of the river and the incredible views nearby.

And we'll try Blake's again. I'll definitely have the onion rings.

Lunch Report: Rib House...

A co-worker asked me last week if I had ever heard of the Rib House. Ever heard of it? I love the Rib House, I just hadn't been there in quite some time, even though my wife taunts me with tales of good eats every time her and her mom stop by for some of their famous ribs. The idea was in my head and by Friday, it was a done deal, we had to get over to the Rib House so I could get some of their catfish.

I know that sounds odd, but having never tried the catfish before, I had this big plan to get some!

This restaurant is located just north of what is now Port San Antonio, formerly Kelly AFB, on Old Highway 90. If for some reason you look at the Google Map and it has the place located in Castroville, just ignore it. The address is 757 Old Hiway 90 just west of 36th Street. If you can't see or feel a big C-5 flying over head, you aren't there.

So we get there right at opening and commence to inspect the menu. I have to confess, I had this sudden unsettling idea that if I had the catfish, I was missing the entire point of going to the Rib House. I mean, they don't call it the Catfish House, right? And this is why I have problems at restaurants. Too many options is a recipe for disaster.

There were three of us in our group and after serving us our tea, it was time to actually place the food orders. I opted to go last hoping that in the remaining few seconds, I could make my mind focus on the benifits of catfish over ribs.The first guy ordered the two meat lunch - beef ribs and pork ribs and for sides, yams and fried okra.The second guy went with the brisket (which I have had many times before - delicious) and green beans and Cole slaw.

It was suddenly go time for me. I had the sides down for sure. I was going with the green beans and potato salad. As soon as I was about to say catfish, my mind made some sort of left turn at Albuquerque and my mouth announced, "two meats, beef and pork", all on its own. As the guy left, I almost felt like I was having an out of body experience because I really had catfish on my mind. Really.But I was not disappointed at all. First, I am a huge fan of Bill Millers green beans. I love them and would eat them daily. The green beans at the Rib House do not have the same pica-factor (they aren't spicy hot), but they have a great home made flavor that I truly enjoy. Order them and you will agree. The potato salad is good - I wouldn't turn it away and I surely licked my plate clean. The ribs are simply to die for and I don't mean maybe. I like the beef and the pork. One of our group said that he liked the beef a little more than the pork but followed that with, "It was like the difference between an A and an A+". Hard to go wrong with that.

No offense to the fine people at Tony Roma's (I haven't been in years), but the Rib House puts them to shame. Shame, as in give me back the hundreds and hundreds of dollars I spent there over the years thinking I was eating "The Best".Now, before you gather up the entire family reunion or want to take your seventy nearest neighbors over for a little feast, you have to understand that there are some limitations. First, there is no parking to speak of. Second, the restaurant itself is not very big. I don't know how many they can hold, but it can't be more than 30 at a time. Having said that though, you can get it to go.But if you have a small group of 4 to 10, I'd say they would be able to hook you up, just get there early.

So as soon as I got back to work, I whined over and over to my friends that I should have gotten the catfish. I'm guessing there is going to be another trip in the near future.Bottom line: Tasty Treats. If you even think you like ribs and you don't try this place, you are missing out. Say Howdy to Miss Taylor - she'll be there waiting for you.

Lunch Report: Acadiana

I usually brown-bag it for lunch every day but today, I was persuaded by my co-workers to take a break from my leftover Roast Beast with carrots and potatoes in favor of getting out of the office for a drive in the open air of a convertible.

It seems that one colleagues’ son is out of town on business so he decided to drive his Mitsubishi to work, just for the fun of it. I wasn’t fully sold on the idea until another co-worker suggested we go to Acadiana. That was the ticket.

If you live in SA but haven’t tried Acadiana, you are surely missing out on a treat. I’m not a huge fan of Cajun dishes but I have never been disappointed with the regular fare. Lunch is about $6.25 for whatever their specials are, so with drink and a tip, you can get out easily for under $10.00.

I had the catfish, red beans & rice and green beans with a slab of corn bread. The iced tea was great and the service was spot on. One colleague had the full red beans & rice plate with a hunk of sausage and the other had the jambalaya with sausage. All three of us were happy with our selections. We didn’t order appetizers, but if you ever go, consider the fried pickles – they are quite the tasty treat.

Oh, as we were leaving, we got to see a group of military guys from the 149^th Texas ANG come in for lunch. They were all in flight suits and one guy was extremely huge. I shouldn’t poke fun as I’m no slim Jim myself, but upon seeing him squeezed tightly into the “Bag” (as flight suits are often referred to in military jargon), I asked how the guys enjoyed their sausage.

I guess you had to be there.

Anyway, for our ride to Acadiana, I took the passenger seat and it was quite a hoot riding with my knees pressed against the dash. Okay, there was nothing funny about it. It was pretty uncomfortable. But I felt bad for my friend in the back seat. Even though he is not nearly as tall or fat, I was guessing that he had even less room.

So, after lunch I was pretending to play Mister Nice and offered to take the back seat for the trip back to work. My plan was that I would make him feel guilty since he is shorter and he would scoot the seat up really far, thereby allowing me a little more room for my legs. This worked fine and I was able to maneuver my way into the back seat and place my feet flatly on the floor, though admittedly with my knees shooting straight upward towards my chin. Good times!

But then, with the top down, we started driving and we weren’t even out of the Acadiana parking lot and on to Loop 410 before I realized what a real error in judgment I had made. The top of my head, and most importantly, my hair was elevated above the height of the car’s front windshield. If I were a model posing in “Fat Middle-Aged Guy” Magazine, this might be cool, but driving back to work at 70 MPH with the wind (and potentially a few flying insects) flowing through my well maintained hair, I was suddenly not having nearly as much fun as I did riding in the front seat.

At one point, I could see from the front mirror that my co-worker was talking to me. I would have attempted to read his lips, but through a mirror, it looked like he was talking backwards. And I sure as hell couldn’t hear anything he was saying, what with the buzz of dragonflies and wasps zooming past me.

At about the time we were pulling off of Loop 410 on to Medina Base Road, I took the opportunity to run my fingers through my hair as sort of an old-fashioned comb technique like my mom would do when I was 4 years old. But I suspect back then, my head was not completely numb like it was now. Thankfully we only had a few more miles to go and at much slower speeds.

When we arrived at the gate over on Security Hill, the driver needed to show his identification so we could get on to the base. This would not normally present a problem, but in such a small car, he was not able to reach his hand into his back pocket to retrieve his wallet. Just as the guard thoughtfully recognized the situation, I volunteered to present my ID which I had handy in my shirt pocket.

I should mention that the picture on my ID is less than a month old so, by everyone’s assessment, it should still look like me. But the guard looked at the picture, then looked at me, then looked at the picture again, then looked at me again. Just then, I caught a glimpse of my new, windswept “Afro” in the mirror and quickly patted it down enough to make me appear to be who I really was.

I’m thinking next time, I’ll drive.