It is possible to purchase a classy drink and snack after the game.
Hopfields’ drink chef Carter Wilsford and I watched a chunk of the Longhorns-Cowboys mixed blessing at Trudy’s Texas Star.
Nothing has changed here since my grad school days in the 1980s, except that it’s busier than ever, mobile devices connect the harried staff and the salsa is measurably hotter and tastier.
Prior to that, we dropped by the L Style G Style launch party for its September/October issue at Spider House’s event center on West 29th Street.
Cynthia Massery and Monica Ross
This big-boned place has evolved. With its baroque curtains and sculptures, it feels more permanent, less improvised. Also decidedly theatrical.
The LGBT magazine, by the way, is handsome as ever. Next issue, leaders Alisa Weldon and Lynn Yeldell will expand coverage and distribution to Houston and Dallas as well. Quite the leap!
After the football fun, Wilsford directed me to fresh spot — Cherry Street on Lavaca Street. Filling the former Hog Island Deli location, this cafe and bar feels bright and brisk, but comfy and reassuring.
I asked the bartender, formerly a fixture on West Fourth Street, to make something creative with bourbon. He returned with a Manhattan-like drink that delivered just the right measure of sourness and hint of sweetness. Very grown up.
Fred Pitcher and Zach Gonzales
Liking it, I sent two of these unnamed cocktails over to Kara and Matt Swinney of Do512 and Austin Fashion Week. When first spotted across the room, I thought admiringly: “The Swinneys are so minutely alert to nightlife news.”
Turns out Cherry Street was where they parked their car during the game. They didn’t know the eatery and drinkery was only four hours old.
Next we headed east, which swims with activity these nights. At hyper-hip Hillside Farmacy on East 11th Street, we absorbed the glory of meticulously decorated former drugstore, even more evocative at night.
We switched to light white wines as we lingered over briny oysters from British Columbia and Rhode Island. I foolishly scooped some horseradish onto my tongue. Learned that lesson. Again.
Was glad to note that, deep into the evening, the customers mix was more varied than expected. Hillside is not just for hipsters.
Wilsford led us to another gem: Cantina El Milamores, the inviting bar behind Takoba, that mecca for interior Mexican cuisine on East Seventh Street. It specializes in “mezcales and sotoles,” so I tasted a tantalizing Summer Sotol cooled by a single block of ice.
Simone Sebastian and Peter Holley
Among the clientele, who gathered around a mural that vibrated with South of the Border images, were post-game revelers and upscale visitors from Latin America. (Has anyone else noticed a spike in out-of-state and out-of-country license plates recently? And we are nowhere near the influx for the ACL Music Festival and F1 races.)
Far East Sixth Street buzzed with saloons new and old, including some throbbing with live music. I don’t want to suggest that the street life here approximates East Sixth proper or even West Sixth. Yet it is now an even more distinctive zone with continuous streams of nightlife.
We escaped the big crowds to light on East Cesar Chavez. There we tested Weather Up in the old Shuck Shack spot (which was one of Bridget Dunlap’s few flops). A colony of the Brooklyn, N.Y. bar of the same name, this retreat is decorated with urban tiles set in small barrel vaults, rather like a subway station.
Hundreds of ingredients crowd the bar. One may choose from a drink booklet, logically organized by major spirits, or from a short seasonal list. I had no choice but to try the Satan Cocktail, also not unlike a Manhattan, climaxed by a small, dark, thoroughly soaked marischino cherry (not one of those plump, sweet things they sell in stores).
This place rivals Midnight Cowboy on East Sixth for elevated cocktail ritual and consummations devoutly to be wished. Weather Up doesn’t require reservations, but go when the tide of pilgrims has receded. Indoor and outdoor seating is limited.