Sometimes, when things go wrong, it’s for the best — as was the case a couple of weeks ago, when Mom and I discovered Fred’s Texas Cafe in Fort Worth.
We’d just been to the Modern, breezed past the Warhols, and afterwards, we were were both in the mood, turns out, for a big, fat cheeseburger. We went to our favorite burger joint, ordered up our usual burgers, and were so disappointed after one bite, that we left.
Lucky for us, Fred’s Texas Cafe, a Fort Worth institution and award-winning dive, was just a few blocks away. We took our seats on the duct-taped bar stools and ordered up half-pound Fredburgers with cheese and homemade fries, and were soon in burger heaven.
I lost track of the number of napkins needed to get through the whole burger (note the crispy, yet perfectly greasy bun), but get through it I did — and so did Mom.
Next time I’m in town, Mom says that we’re going to Fred’s again, and she’s gonna try the bleu cheese burger. Hmmm. Bleu cheese. Wonder why they haven’t thought of that here in Paris?
Fred’s Texas Cafe
915 Currie Street
Fort Worth, Texas
(817) 332-0083
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Wow. That burger looks absolutely amazing. Makes me long for one right now, and sadly I only have piddly, skinny leftover turkey burgers in the fridge. I miss Texas.
I love your blog, by the way. Stumbled on it through a random Internet search a few weeks ago!
Oh dear… that looks too yummy. Are you back yet?! Missing you…
Looks like a real artery clogger to me, but I bet it was delicious.
Life is so unfair!
I can’t believe you found Fred’s! I stumbled on Fred’s last Saturday after going to the Botanical Gardens. It was the best hamburger I’ve ever had in my life, and I’ve had lots of really good ones. We met some real characters in there, like Doug the redneck architect, who has been coming for decades, back when it was even more of a dump than a dive. He told us stories about when new customers would come — the owner, Fred, would wait till one of them made a comment that usually went like, “I heard this had great food. It looks like a dump, though. Am I in the right place”? Then Fred would go back behind the bar and lower this dead rat he had attached to a rope from over their table and listen to them scream. Sometimes he’d tell them he had a gift for them and when they reached into the bag, some low voltage batteries would give them a shock. Doug told us these stories as he chased his beer with shots of Patron. I ordered a draft beer and it was huge.
It was such a fun Saturday!