time to get hILL

I've mentioned Hill Country BBQ on here before. Their live karaoke is a big draw for me and my friend Eleni - who is slim and Greek but upon mounting the stage miraculously transforms into a wide-hipped, sultry black woman from the 1950's.

Most of their sides are covered in cheese. This is not an issue for me. Below are diced up string beans, whose nutritional value is drowning in butter.

Sharing is kind of essential here, unless you plan to do suicide after the meal. Your stomach will tell you to. Moderation is virtually nonexistent at Hill Country, and even their smallest portions will make you feel Precious.

Here is a bag of butcher paper filled to the brim with the delicious ribs of a cow. Sometimes they have wild boar ribs! I gorged myself on these and then I sang Folsom Prison Blues by Johnny Cash. I will go ahead and say I did a "pretty good job".

Put a fried egg on a plate with something, that something becomes better.

Former Cow

There's something about tearing meat from a bone with my teeth that instills such a delectable sense of primal satisfaction in me. Plus I like the idea of holding a rib in my hands. These were from Teddy's in Williamsburg, which is also where I had the best baked clams of my entire life. And don't get me wrong. I like cows. They are funny to me. But I prefer them dead and on my plate. Or refashioned into a jacket.