Adventures in Fredericksburg

Monday, Aug 10--Sitting in Lincoln St. Wine Market in Fredericksburg, Texas enjoying happy hour and recalling the events of a relaxing day with a bottle of Hill Country Wine, and my wingman Ted working on his laptop in the comfy chair next to me. We sent Sophie off to camp at Sky Ranch yesterday, and left Patch home to keep an eye on Alex. We’re not worried about Sophie, but hope the boy, house, and dog will survive, in that order.

We started the day in our B&B, which only includes the first B, and is a storybook stone cottage near Main Street decorated in a funky nautical them. We find this fascination la mer a bit perplexing here in the landlocked hill country, but it’s cute and well done. We can only wish the decorating enthusiasm had extended to a curtain for the bathroom window, possibly fashioned of sailing canvas or seaweed to complete the theme.

Breakfast (the second "B" in the acronym) was at Rather Sweet, a quaint bakery in another old stone building off Main. We had heard various rumors that the owner was, alternatively, the niece, sister, or cousin of TV journalist Dan Rather, but were unable to confirm any of these suspicions. The cheese omelet and fresh peach kolache we shared were excellent, so it doesn’t really matter to us who is related to whom.

After breakfast we were off to do touristy stuff like visit Wildseed Farms, a working wildflower farm right outside of town. The wildflower fields were worth the trip-beautiful fields of color under a blue sky. Optimism inspired us to buy some “Texas-Oklahoma Mix” seeds but I’m sure our backyard field of color will pale in comparison to the acres of richly blooming plants we viewed today.

Then, because it was 11:30 and it had been two long hours since breakfast, we went in search of Texas Monthly’s No. 3 Hamburger in the Great State of Texas, which was allegedly being grilled only ten miles from Fredericksburg down the Old San Antonio Road. That’s quite a drive for a burger, but we are intrepid foodies who won’t be deterred by winding roads, one-lane bridges, and the occasional flock of buzzards munching on a deer carcass by the side of the road.

Alamo Springs Café, home of said prize winning burger, reminds me of my grandmother’s house, only with table service. It’s a not-too-well maintained white frame building with a screen door off the front porch, and an old fashioned, Coke-themed refrigerator inside stocked with sodas. Cleaning does not appear to be high on the priority of management. Ted and I opted to share one award- winning cheeseburger on a jalapeño bun, with grilled onions and all the fixins. Plus a half-order of fries and onion rings. You have to admire our restraint. Texas Monthly did not lie--this was indeed one of the best burgers I have ever had, and was so tall that it was served with a steak knife as a skewer to hold the towering mass together. We were entertained during the meal by the waitress, who swatted aggressively at flies to the beat of Strange Brew on the jukebox. I think this is what may be referred to as “local color.”

For an after-lunch excursion we went by a couple of the local wineries to see which of the local vintages made the best cheeseburger chaser. Our favorite was Becker Vineyards, with its six-wine tasting for $5 and fields of fragrant lavender. We bought a couple of bottles to take home because it’s bad form to taste and run. The Torre di Pietra winery tasting featured a wine called Dirty Girl, which we thought tasted like dirty bathwater, speaking rhetorically of course.

Post-tasting, we set out for Luckenbach, because Ray Wylie told us we ought to go. We took our own picture in front of the general store and mailed a postcard home to ourselves before heading back into town. Along the way, we stopped to read Historical Markers and take photos of hundred- year- old stone houses. The country is rugged and gorgeous, in a scrub-brushy sort of way, and hot, but with a cooling breeze blowing. In someone’s farmyard we saw a stuffed cow with an ice pack tied to its head and a sign reading “Fred” around its neck. You just never know.

After dinner, which we really don’t need following our wine and burger fueled day, we will head back to the little stone cottage and tuck into the four-poster bed, full and happy. The home’s designer has thoughtfully provided a surprise for guests when the lights go out—hundreds of tiny glow-in-the-dark stars affixed to the bedroom ceiling. It’s almost like looking at the real sky, only with air conditioning.