Yesterday was one of those days that weekends should be like.
We had a relaxing morning at home. The inlaws left early, and Mocha was sprawled out on the sofa snoring loudly — three days of entertaining a puppy had zonked her out. At one point on Saturday, as Freckles was literally running circles around her in the backyard, I told Mocha out loud that she’s becoming a crotchety old lady. Her preferred position was to sit on the deck and watch Freckles run in circles.
Natalie told me a while back that she wanted to take me to brunch for my birthday, but given our travel schedules, this was the first weekend that we could actually go. She insisted that we go to Green Pastures, a place I’ve heard about a number of times, but haven’t actually been. This is one of the things that I find annoying about living in the suburbs: I hear about all of these quirky, quaint, and/or neat places in town, but usually lack the will on the weekends to get in the car, drive into town, and try them.
Like many a business in South Austin, Green Pastures is located in a residential area of the sort that has you questioning whether you’re totally lost in the moments right before you get there. It’s located in an Old Historic Place, and we in Austin do like our Old Historic Places.
I wasn’t quite prepared to have to dodge peacocks in the parking lot, however.
There’s something very turkey-like about the way peacocks look, almost to the point where I started to wonder if they taste like turkey. Gobble gobble.
Brunch was a grand affair (much grander once the piano player quit playing her repertoire of songs that were once popular and had appeared on the Muppets at some point or another).
Highlights from the menu:
Smoked Prime Rib with Au Jus, Creole Mustard, and Horseradish Sauce.
Lentil and Red Pepper Salad.
Chilled Seared Duck Breast with Mango Chutney.
Sesame Tuna with Wasabi and Soy.
Artichokes with Parmesan and Sun-dried Tomatoes.
Chicken topped with Prosciutto in a Mushroom Sauce.
There was also a chocolate fountain, white chocolate and pecan bread pudding, several different kinds of cheesecake bars, and milk punch.
What is milk punch, you ask? Well, let me tell you: it’s a 1/2 gallon of vanilla ice cream mixed with 22 ounces of whole milk, 4 ounces of bourbon, 3 ounces of rum, and one ounce of brandy. It tastes like a vanilla milk shake and it’s something of a life changing experience. It certainly is mood changing.
After the meal, over which we lingered, we waddled around the grounds of the estate. (They rent them for weddings.) I began taking pictures of peacocks, who are not the nicest birds. Natalie and Ray were laughing at me as I would attempt to sneak up on a peacock victim, stopping whenever the bird would look in my direction. “I know he’s going to attack me,” I said at one point.
“Yes, we know,” Ray said. “We’ve got our cameras ready.”
Thanks, guys.
This one was clearly on the prowl for the ladies, who were clearly not interested. Honestly, it was like Saturday night on 6th street.
On the way home, I insisted on driving by the iconic “Greetings from Austin” mural that’s been reprinted on every other postcard in town.
The afternoon was pretty lazy: post brunch nap (naturally), followed by television: catching up on Battlestar and Dollhouse, and deciding not to eat dinner because we were still full from brunch.
See, that’s how a lazy Sunday should be.
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