Today’s
trek, just up the road to Denton and Lewisville, was both pleasing to the
appetite and the eyes.
First we landed at Rooster’s Roadhouse in Denton for lunch.
If you’ve never been, don’t worry. It’s not hard to find. Tucked into Denton’s
burgeoning downtown/Industrial Street area, Rooster’s, perhaps in a cheeky nod
to its neighbor Dan’s Silver Leaf, boasts—yep, you guessed it—a large metal
chicken atop its roof. (Dan’s sports a big silver leaf on top of its digs,
you see.) Or maybe Rooster's just wanted to put a giant metal chicken on their roof. Because they could. It seems logical. (For ideas on other things you can do with a giant metal chicken, read Jenny Lawson's memoir. There's a whole chapter devoted to it. Truth.)
Rooster’s fare is what I'd consider "traditional roadhouse" with a few
quirky twists. In addition to classic burgers and barbecue sandwiches,
there are: a salad named the "Double Wide," a veggie po' boy and pulled pork nachos (a personal fave) topped with a sweet-tangy
barbecue sauce, jalapenos and pico. (It’s listed under “appetizers,” but it’s big
enough for two meals easily...or one really big carbo-load, like if you were prepping for a marathon or something...or, like, 17 Weight Watchers meals.)
Another appetizer, the Redneck Sushi, is anything
but fishy. Its brisket and sweet-hot pickles come slathered in barbecue sauce
and cheese (That's right. I said slathered.) and wrapped in a tortilla. The best part, however, was the
horseradish Dijon for dipping. Holy cow! Hold on to your chopsticks, that stuff
packs a sinus-clearing punch that hits you like a fiery kiss and a simultaneous full-face slap.
A few pointers:
Silverware, napkins and menus are already at the
table.
It’s almost always busy, and the noise level hovers
somewhere near “constant ruckus.”
Try the Cockeyed Lemonade. Seriously. Try it. (*Not for tiny humans. Only for big people.)
Desserts, namely banana pudding, come served in
mini-Mason jelly jars, a fact which I’m convinced enhances the flavor to
drool-worthy heights.
All told, Mr. Man (AKA the hubs, the Tall One) and I
got out of there with drinks, an appetizer, two entrees, and some of that
banana pudding for less than $30. And we had enough left over that I broke the
to-go container trying to make it all fit. (Don’t judge. You’ll be taking home
the pulled pork nachos, too.)
Our second stop was a small car show in Lewisville
where we perused a smattering of Corvettes, two Plymouth Road Runners (They really do
honk meep, meep!), a handful of
hotrods in various stages of rebuild and customization, and a ’72 Chevy
Cheyenne that held Mr. Man’s eye. Its black ostrich interior didn’t hurt
either. Seriously, I don’t know how you feel about ostrich, but the upholstery
work was downright stunning.
My personal favorite was a nice looking maroon
Bronco owned by a lovely young lady sporting a cool blue fedora-type hat. I don’t know why the hat ratchets up the cool
factor, but it does. Though it still needed some engine work, this machine was
good lookin’, big but not too big, and
broad without being too stocky. It was tough…but pretty. Totally my idea of the
perfect vehicle for trekking—one well suited to a long drive with the windows down
into the great wide open.
