We wanted to give this award to someone else; we really did. "Best Tortillas at Taco Cabana? Why not just give Best Hamburger to effin' McDonald's?" we think, angry with ourselves. But then we sigh, and our fists unclench as our thoughts turn to the pliable, pillowy flatbreads that are just 19 cents apiece at that familiar pink-and-green-stucco drive-thru. Plus, you can even see the tortilla-making machine right behind the counter, so you know they're going to be warm and fresh. And they pass the true tortilla test: They're great when filled with beans, cheese or rice but can also stand on their own. Cue the drool; we just can't help it.
What is it about a bowl of piping-hot red that enables it to create a culture all its own? Chili cook-offs, chili championships, chili parlors, chili with beans or without. What's the best chili, the hottest, the reddest, the meanest? Texas chauvinism aside, none of these is an easy question, and weighing into the great chili debate about what constitutes the best chili can be just plain foolish. But here goes, anyway. The chili served at Highland Park Pharmacy for at least the past 20 years, and probably longer, is our sentimental favorite. No, it's not hot; no, it's not spicy; and yes, it's full of beans. But it's mighty tasty, goes down smooth and is a welcome complement to just about any sandwich the old-fashioned soda fountain has to offer. Summer or winter, it just seems to work its magic, particularly when doused with a chocolate malt or a vanilla Coke.
After a several-month hiatus, Tipperary Inn is back in business, serving traditional Irish fare in the pub's old location at the corner of Skillman and Live Oak streets. The Tipp's environs are made for comfort--including dark woods and roomy seating areas--and so is the food. The menu is a little on the heavy side, but you can't miss the shepherd's pie or the fish & chips or the bangers & mash. Avoid the booths, though; they're so big and comfy, you may be tempted to curl up for a nap after you're done.