At Ranchito Hondo, Hondo, Texas...
Our Branson trip was fun, as always. It happens to be one of our favorite places because it is one of the few towns left that remind us of our early years when life was simpler and entertainment was just clean fun. It's a place where "going woke" means nothing more than waking up in the morning. It's near beautiful Table Rock Lake in the Ozarks, and we have given serious thought on numerous occasions to actually moving there. But not for now.
Since we're back at Ranchito Hondo, and there hasn't been much to post about lately, I thought I would just post the latest monthly column that I write for a mostly-advertising newspaper in my home town of Nacogdoches, Texas. So here goes:
Growing up in Nacogdoches, I was never far from a source of
fried catfish, either from family kitchens or catfish joints around east Texas.
It is a favorite, of course, and a craving for this delicacy cannot be
satisfied in many of the places we roam. It was when we were approaching
Ardmore, Oklahoma, while traveling from Branson back to Texas, that a catfish
craving hit me, so I asked Sandy to check on her phone for a catfish joint and,
lo and behold, a highly-rated one was listed—Catfish Corner. I made a quick
check on Google Earth to see if our huge car-towing bus could be parked nearby
and, once again, the gods were smiling; there was a vacant lot next door! (If
you ever acquire a large motorhome, this pre-visit visual check will become
second nature to you.)
We asked Siri for directions and maneuvered our rig to the
restaurant at the corner of Commerce and McCullough in Ardmore:
We couldn’t help but notice that beneath the “Catfish Corner”
sign was another one that read “El Palacio of Fine Mexican Food.” I figured there were two separate restaurants
in the building, but no—upon entering, it was clear that it was a
catfish/Mexican restaurant—a first in all our travels over seven decades of
living.
We were met at the door by the owner, John Burkhart, dressed
in jeans and a green-checkered shirt, tail out, that appeared to be freshly
acquired from Goodwill. He greeted us warmly, as though we were long-lost
cousins. I was immediately reminded of the late Sam Shepherd, who was similarly
accommodating at his legendary restaurant that was once a Nacogdoches icon. As John
showed us to our table, I took note of the food adorning the tables at the packed
restaurant and, to my surprise, noticed that most of the patrons were eating
Mexican food, which was advertised underneath the catfish signage
outside. This piqued my curiosity, of course, but we were all set for catfish,
which was every bit as good as it appeared on the platter.
Then I asked about my observation that most of the diners
appeared to be having Mexican food. He said, “Oh, we’re famous for that, too,
especially the chile rellenos; I think they’re the best anywhere.” I was
tempted to order one for dessert, but there was just no way after gorging on
the catfish.
John and I talked again at the front of the restaurant when I
was paying the tab. I noticed a photo of a trailer laden with more chile
peppers than I had ever seen and asked him about it:
“We go to Hatch, New Mexico every season and load up on these
chiles for our rellenos,” said John. “That’s me on the left; this trailer load
won’t last us a full year nowadays; looks like we’re going to need a bigger
trailer.”
Suitably impressed at the enormity of the haul, I wished even
more that I had tried one, but there was just no room. I vowed to come back,
however.
As we were about to leave, I asked him a little about
Ardmore’s history. He rubbed his chin for a moment and then said, “Did you know
that Ardmore once had more millionaires per capita than anywhere else in the
country?” I blinked, wishing to know more, but John was swept away,
glad-handing another couple who had just walked in the door.
I looked up John’s millionaire claim, by the way, and he was
right. After a nearby oil discovery in 1912, a boom quickly developed and, for
a while way back then, Ardmore indeed sported more millionaires per capita than anywhere
else.
We never know what interesting things we will find on our
journeys, but a “Mexicat” restaurant and an Ardmore full of millionaires are a
couple of surprises we never expected.