The reaction I usually get when I mention the Austin Zoo to a friend is, “Wait, Austin has a zoo?” Yes, we do. Technically.
Looking at my blog the other day, I realized that a lot of the activities I post aren’t exactly cheap. Top Golf, cooking classes at Central Market, Second Bar + Kitchen… since when did I get so fancy? If I don’t watch out, I’ll soon be writing “Austin’s 5 Best Spots for Imported Caviar” and “A Great Place to Send Your Butler on His Day Off”.
So let’s get trashy at one of Austin’s oldest dive bars: Ego’s.
Let’s face it: kites aren’t that exciting. Tying fabric to a string and running around frantically trying to keep it airborne for slightly longer than usual? This is clearly something invented before television. (Entertainment options were limited back then– it was pretty much fly a kite or accuse your neighbor of witchcraft.)
As a result, kites have had a rough time lately. But once a year, they experience a glorious surge of popularity in Austin. It’s the Zilker Kite Festival!
I think we can all agree that cheese is the best food in the world. Exhibit A: Macaroni and cheese. Exhibit B: Nachos. Exhibit C: Pizza. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I rest my case!
If you haven’t guessed: it wasn’t hard to convince me to try a class at Antonelli’s Cheese Shop.
I love me some brunch. One type of brunch I’ve had elsewhere that I’ve never had in Austin: a good, old-fashioned gospel brunch. I’ve been searching around town for a while now. (See my post on Strange Brew’s gospel brunch, which was really a bluegrass concert with breakfast tacos.)
Well, folks, I finally found one! Stubb’s offers gospel brunch twice every Sunday.
If you’ve lived in Austin a while, you probably have at least one friend who’s into swing dancing. It’s incredibly popular. We have not one but THREE major swing organizations in town, the largest being Austin Swing Syndicate. (They clearly weren’t thinking about acronyms when they chose the name.)
My boyfriend and I decided it was high time we saw what all the fuss was about. Last week, we tried one of Austin Swing Syndicate’s introductory lessons.
I spend a good chunk of my work time hunched over a laptop. (And my free time. The Internet is a wonderful/horrible thing.) But there’s something very satisfying about getting away from your computer and making something with your hands, even if it turns out misshapen and unusable.
That’s where TechShop comes in.
If you were born in the ’80s or later, you probably played the game “Hot Lava” growing up. If not, the rules are simple: Someone yells “The floor is made of lava!” and everyone has to save themselves by jumping on furniture, or couch cushions, or anything else in the vicinity. Players then have to move from object to object. Anyone who touches the ground burns to death, losing the game (and their dignity).
That’s where Hot Lava Obstacle Course gets its name. I wasn’t good at the game as a kid. I’m not sure why I thought I would be good at it as an adult.
You may have noticed a running theme in my restaurant reviews. Burgers, Korean BBQ, beef tartare… yes, I eat a LOT of meat. (And almost no fruit. It’s only a matter of time until I develop scurvy. Oh well.)
As a meat connoisseur, I have very strong feelings about barbecue. I could publish a guide to Austin barbecue, but since that’s been done, let me just tell you about a new favorite of mine: Stiles Switch.
I’m a terrible cook. Just last week, I had to throw away an entire Crock-Pot full of chicken because I decided to improvise the sauce. It tasted like rotten oranges and failure, and I was so depressed by the ordeal that I ended up eating half a box of Thin Mints for dinner instead. (Note to self: Stop improvising. Also, stop buying so many Girl Scout cookies.)
But I’m determined to be a decent cook by the time I’m 30, so I recently tried “Knife Skills 101″ at Central Market.
I admit, the title of this post is a little misleading. At Korea House, you won’t find Texas barbecue staples like brisket, ribs, or pork chops. (No, racist people, you won’t find dog on the menu either.) But you WILL find piles of tasty grilled meat, so close enough.
Let me paint a mental picture for you. Imagine it’s pouring rain. You’re alone, holding a heavy gun that you barely know how to fire. You’re huddled in six inches of mud behind a pile of wood, trying with little success to see out of your dirty, fogged mask. As you crane your neck around, looking for your teammates, you’re suddenly pelted with stinging bullets. Your assailant, who crept up behind you, triumphantly barks like a seal.
Did that sound fun? Like a good way to spend a Saturday morning? If so, go to Austin Paintball immediately (and get a brain scan, just in case).