I didn’t go to UT, but in my 20s I lived in the nearby Heritage neighborhood for the simple reason that it was cheap as hell. On weekend mornings, my boyfriend would put his foot on my back and gently nudge me out of bed, whispering, “Bring me a muffin and a coffee.” Before anyone gets too upset, that dude is now my husband, and he makes me a breakfast taco almost every day, so we’re even.
Back then, I’d throw on clothes, walk downstairs, cut across the Breed & Co. parking lot, and join the line at Texas French Bread. The queue moved to the rich aromas of fresh coffee and baking bread, and the pastry case never disappointed. When I eventually moved out of the neighborhood, I missed those slow morning rituals. When a devastating fire gutted the building in January 2022, the loss hit even harder.
Texas French Bread opened at 29th and Rio Grande in 1981. Following the blaze, the bakery was back in business later that year, baking from a commissary in Northeast Austin and serving customers from a 1971 Airstream donated by Aaron and Stacy Franklin. Parked beneath the giant oak in the garden beside the lot, the trailer became a familiar sight as the new building took shape. This summer, Texas French Bread moved back inside and resumed dinner service. In June, owner Murph Willcott announced the milestone in his characteristically conversational Substack: “Last week we served dinner for the first time in four and a half years. We hope you’ll join us.”
Surprisingly, through all those years of morning runs, I had never actually visited Texas French Bread for an evening meal. But I adored everything else: the pillowy bread, decadent ham-and-cheese croissants, silky French omelets, and sandwiches that ruined other lunch spots. When the restaurant reopened its dining room this summer, graduating from its temporary food truck setup on the patio, I didn’t need much convincing to traipse down memory lane. And, at long last, stay for dinner.
The rebuilt space uses original brick and century-old longleaf pine salvaged from the building’s former second-floor joists, now incorporated into the ceiling and walls. Although familiar, the layout is new, with greenery throughout and small bistro tables tucked close together. At night, candles soften the room, while low music, cloth napkins, and proper silverware give dinner a distinctly French bistro polish.
Service was a little overzealous when we arrived on a Friday evening, with staff hovering and a couple of managers checking in in quick succession. It felt slightly frantic at first, but the pace settled as the date went on.
The market salad captured the summer-to-fall transition with beets, watermelon, parmesan, tomatoes, peppers, and a bright lemony vinaigrette. The sweet watermelon and earthy vegetables balanced the salty cheese and sharp dressing, making the salad both fresh and substantial enough to start the meal.
The ratatouille, made with produce sourced from nearby farms, arrived molded almost like a rustic tartare rather than a traditional loose vegetable stew. Smoked eggplant gave it depth, while basil pistou and toasted almonds brought brightness and crunch. The dish comes with a few pieces of toasted focaccia, but we still saved room for the complimentary order of griddled sourdough: a massive quarter-loaf sliced into tranches with seasoned pepper butter. It’s a frankly absurd amount of bread for two people to consume with dinner, but when the restaurant has “Bread” in its name, skipping it is a rookie mistake.
My husband ordered the chicken chasseur, which has since cycled off the menu. The half-chicken was generous, with crackly skin over juicy meat and a deeply savory sauce loaded with jammy tomatoes, mushrooms, and onions. The combination had the rich, winey character of coq au vin, while the vegetables kept it from feeling heavy. The dinner menu rotates regularly, so you’ll find something new to discover on future visits.
I went with the steak frites. The beef was nicely seasoned and cooked medium-rare, and the au poivre sauce was rich and peppery without becoming salty. The fries, sadly, were floppy, although thick enough to drag through the bright, garlicky lemon aïoli. At $42, the portion is a little smaller than I’d like, but it’s still a good value given Austin’s sky-high steak prices these days.
We finished with a slice of the delicious Hyde Park fudge cake, which was dense and intensely dark-cocoa-forward, almost like a moist flourless cake. The whipped cream is airy and barely sweetened, keeping the dessert from becoming a sugar bomb.
As much as I enjoyed dinner, I needed to go back during the day, where so many of my memories were rooted. The counter service format remains, with seating in the bright dining room and garden. A few breakfast items, like pancakes and granola, carry into lunch, and weekend brunch adds the French omelet and eggs Benedict.
For lunch, the $16 special is definitely the move: half a deli sandwich, chips and salsa, soup or salad, and a cookie. My half Niçoise came on pillowy focaccia with skipjack tuna, capers, parsley, lettuce, tomatoes, red onion, and lemon vinaigrette. Zero mayo, just enough acid and salt to keep the tuna light rather than deli-counter heavy. Paired with a market side salad heavy on parmesan and snappy watermelon radishes, it made for a satisfying lunch.
Across the table, my husband’s chicken salad sandwich was similarly straightforward, with chicken, mayonnaise, sour cream, celery, parsley, and pickles on thick sourdough. The sour cream lightens the mayonnaise, while the pickles provide plenty of tang. Most importantly, no random grapes or nuts – I have strong opinions about this.
And then there’s the pastry case, with cream cheese and green chile croissants, sugared cinnamon rolls, muffins, Danishes, cookies, and more. The oatmeal raisin cookie has crisp edges, a chewy center, and plenty of whole oats, while the chocolate chip is exactly what you want from a good bakery cookie: no gimmicks, no trendy additions. We left with muffins and a bag of Anderson’s Coffee’s Texas French Bread roast for the next morning, which gave a welcome whiff of déjà vu.
Texas French Bread didn’t try to reinvent itself after the fire. It rebuilt, brought dinner back, and kept the bakery, cafe, lunch counter, and pastry case that have been part of this corner of Austin since 1981. For a neighborhood that watched a longtime institution literally go up in flames, having it back feels pretty damn good.
Texas French Bread
2900 Rio Grande
texasfrenchbread.com
This article appears in September 25 • 2026.
