The Best of Everything
Since this is the Chronicle issue where raging cynicism is beaten back for a brief spell and the good things in life take center stage, I thought I, too, would lay aside my caustic criticism for one day — just one — and concentrate on the best stuff, even if it is only vaguely related to hearth and soul:
Best Anti-litter Campaign: Animal Trustees of Austin has opened a low-cost spay and neuter clinic in East Austin: $15 for male cats and $20 for females; $25 for male dogs and $30 for females. Despite the low prices, the facilities are state-of-the-art. Thanks to the mind-boggling mathematics of geometric progression, one unspayed female dog can contribute 7,000 puppies in seven years to the pet overpopulation problem (if her pups have pups who have pups…) That’s a lot of birth control for 30 bucks. (5129 Cameron Road, 450-0111).
The Best Thing About Living in Dripping Springs: Out here in the suburbs, there are still a few people eking their living off the land. We’ve heard rumors of a woman known as the Garlic Lady who grows fields of the stinking rose. We just learned about another woman who makes a living growing saffron nearby. Knowing they’re out there is a comfort, but it’s even better when the local growers open their farm stands on Saturday mornings to sell the vegetables of their labors. Marianne Sprinkel runs Onion Creek Farms, where we can get the freshest salad greens, eggplant, potatoes, onions, and happy chicken eggs (CR 190, which runs off Hwy 290 in the middle of Dripping Springs). Pure Luck Organics sells the best goat cheese I’ve ever eaten along with a variety of produce and bundles of flowers (CR 187, which runs off Hwy 290 just west of Dripping Springs).
Best Thing About Leaving Dripping Springs for a Few Days in August: Capitan, NM, is 560 miles away, but that’s not too far to drive for dinner at Chango, a cozy restaurant serving seared tuna with mango salsa and scallops in a white chocolate sauce in an out-of-the-way part of New Mexico where burritos are standard fare. But there’s more than creative cuisine here. The owner and chef, Jerrold Flores, is also a great nester. The restaurant is filled with wild art. Abstract mosaic sculptures sprout from the lawn out front. And even after 14 years in the restaurant business, Flores treats you as though you were a guest in his home, not as the obnoxious Texan you know yourself to be.
Do you want me to be obnoxious about begging for questions? Send `em to Suzebe@aol.com or to the Chronicle at P.O. Box 49066, Austin, 78765.
This article appears in September 26 • 1997 and September 26 • 1997 (Cover).