Reviewed: Brunch at Hill Country

Restaurant: Hill Country
Cuisine: BBQ
Location: 30 W. 26th Street - NY, NY 10010

It's a rare occurrence when The Lunch Belle wakes up later than 8:30 a.m. on a weekend morning. So when I rolled over and saw the numbers "10:15 a.m." on my alarm clock yesterday, I knew that my evening had to have been wild. The night before, I had planned a rendezvous for a dear friend and coworker who was leaving the company. We had a rowdy night of debauchery and tearful goodbyes. I woke up with a headache that could only be cured with a couple hours of watching bad TV on the the couch followed by an uber greasy brunch. I phoned my friend Sabine and we decided to meet at Hill Country at 1 p.m. for a heart-clogging hang-over fix.

1 p.m. could not have come quick enough. There wasn't squat on the tube, but thank God I had DVR'd some of my favorite shows throughout the previous week to hold me over until my brunch date. I swore to myself that if I saw that damn Activia Yogurt commercial with Jamie Lee Curtis one more time...I just may call it a day and jump out of my window. Ugh!?!

From the restaurant's outside to its rustic interior, Hill Country perfectly evokes and transplants one to Texas. Charming plank-wood floors, meal "specials" written in colorful chalk, high ceilings, kitschy quoted signs, old-fashioned soda fountains, wrought iron partitioning and blasting-overhead country music truly give diners the feeling of being in Lockhart, Texas...Not New York, NY. Unfortunately though, this is where the honeymoon ends...

After announcing our arrival to the hostess, Sabine and I were handed "meal" tickets and told to proceed to the food stations where an employee would punch our tickets each time we were served a different dish of our choice. After we were satisfied with everything we'd chosen, we would then grab a seat of our choice and eat. Once done, we'd pay via what was punched on our meal ticket. Sounds simple enough, right? WRONG!

Sabine and I were handed cafeteria trays and led blindly in to an open space with two food "bars." We chose most of our dishes at the counter consisting of mac n' cheese, eggs, French toast casserole, etc. By the time my tray was full, I had compiled a random sampling of: cheese enchiladas, mini-Kreuz sausage wieners (the name "Kreuz" is of significance because it is a famous BBQ/smokehouse in Texas where Hill Country imports some of their products), green-chile cheese grits, green bean casserole and a buttermilk biscuit. Sabine and I chose a table, sat and were greeted by a cocktail waitress who filled our mason jars with ice water and brought us two fresh-squeezed orange juices. Since it had been a while, Sabine and I were really looking forward to our time together. It was unfortunate that Hill Country's acoustics and blaring country music was so piercing that we could barely hear each other and literally had to scream over Hank Williams Jr. and Shania Twain in the background.

I'll go through my meal bite by bite, as I ate clockwise through my "cafeteria tray." The green-chile cheese grits looked like a white mass of mashed potatoes, however, as I observed closer, I was able to make out a grit-like texture and see a couple of green specks of chopped chiles. For a Yankee preparation of grits, this version was passable, but not the best I've had. They were much thicker that what I'm used to and I did find a couple of clumpy cornmeal masses throughout. My next bite took me to the green bean casserole, which was a mix of green beans, canned mushroom soup and fried onions. This, I will say, was one of the better dishes I tried at Hill Country. Though my mother's version is still #1, I was quite satisfied with what was before my eyes. Somehow, this casserole didn't feel as unhealthy, with the addition of the green beans and mushrooms, though these vegetables were immersed with heavy cream and fried onions. This dish truly evokes the meaning of "comfort food." By sight alone, I could tell that the buttermilk biscuit would be delicious. Its imperfectly round, golden and buttery body gave way to the most delicately moist and bready interior that was perfectly complemented with my addition honey and real butter. From the looks of the cheese enchiladas, I thought that there just may be a snowball's chance in hell that they could potentially be tasty. So I cut a piece of one of the Kreuz sausage wieners and paired it with a bite of enchilada, and...Boom! It was a horrific disgrace to this border town Texas girl. At this point in the game, the enchilada sauce could have been ketchup for all I knew, as it was that bad. What was worse was the fact that the tortillas enveloping the cheese weren't even fried in order to hold their shape! I was so embarrassed and mortified, though I wasn't sure if it was for myself (for ordering the damn things) or if it was for Hill Country, for serving something so disgraceful. Either way, this dish was a total train wreck.

After Sabine and I washed our meal down with the tasty fresh-squeezed orange juice, we couldn't have gotten out of the restaurant quicker. I almost had a coronary when I paid my steep $32 tab, but was glad to just be done with this meal and be able to say, "I've done it and I'll never do it again." Sadly, the real Hill Country's Lunch Belle will not be returning to Hell Country.

…

Until we eat again, 

Lindsay, The Lunch Belle