Texans Bill Cauble (left) and Cliff Teinert have combined talents and recipes to produce a book on chuck wagon cooking.

The state of Texas is always adding new dishes to the menu of tradition. It's been that way since settlers spilled in, bringing with them the recipes of the Deep South. It's been that way since Mexican cooks added heat to the palate. It's been that way since the Germans and Czechs began to flavor the Hill Country with their homeland favorites. Nowadays, those--and more--are all Texas, as evidenced by a friend of mine from the Piney Woods, who describes his mama's home cooking as "enchiladas and turnip greens."

From the Frying Pan to the Fire
Stepping inside the Pickett House Restaurant at the Heritage Village Museum complex in Woodville, I smell the rich promise of a familiar lunch. Served family style, the meal--fresh greens, beans, peas, dumplings, mashed potatoes, crisply fried chicken, cobbler--is as simple and satisfying as the surroundings. Washed down with the tang of sassafras tea, this menu, I realize, would be as at home in Alabama as the woods of East Texas.

My next stop, though, is Texan to the core. Cowboy cooks Bill Cauble and Cliff Teinert have agreed to introduce me to chuck wagon cooking. These crusty, amiable fellows have prepared mesquite-cooked prime rib for Presidents and put together a cookbook, Barbecue Biscuits & Beans, worthy of a place in any modern kitchen.

Cliff whips up sourdough biscuits in a Dutch oven, and Bill shucks corn to grill over the fire. Cliff's biscuits, tender and artistically browned, are the best I've ever tried, and the Red Chile Paste that Bill spreads on the corn gives it a hot, smoky taste. That pairing tastes so grand that my tongue wants to slap me in the head.

Left: Brothers Tan (left) and Tri La are part of the family that first brought Vietnamese food to the Texas table at their restaurants in Houston. Right: Any Texan will tell you that barbecue is a matter of personal taste, but plenty of folks from the Lone Star State name Cooper's Old Time Pit Bar-B-Que in Llano as the best all-around.

A Growing Menu
In Texas, food transcends politics and merges cultures. I find a prime example of that at Houston's Kim Son. The La family came to Texas from Vietnam more than two decades ago, and since then, they've built a popular and thriving local restaurant chain on determination and family recipes. I pick a dish that eloquently represents a union of different worlds: Vietnamese Fajitas. Three plates arrive at the table. The first bears rice papers; the second carries grated carrots, lettuce, sprouts, cucumber, pineapple, mint, and cilantro. The last plate is piled with slices of flank steak, marinated and charcoal-grilled. As the name implies, I create a fajita by rolling the meat in the rice paper with a choice of toppings.

Bounty of the Border
Park Kerr is my guide to the influences of Mexico on Texas food. He regularly travels over the bridge to Juarez to seek out ideas for his family's specialty food business, the El Paso Chile Company. Asked to recommend a spot that best captures this regional food, Park directs me to El Paso's H&H Car Wash and Coffee Shop. Its dishes have earned international recognition. In fact, consider this: Name one other place that will clean your car that's also won a James Beard Foundation award, as H&H did in 2001. Texas, as I said, has got it all.

Left: Park Kerr visits the market in Juarez to find inspiration for his specialty food business. Right: The Kentucky Club in Juarez, Mexico, is believed by Park Kerr--and many others--to be home to the original margarita.

This article is from the Favorites 2005 issue of Southern Living.