Heart beating fast, sweat is dripping from your forehead. You wonder if people will like what you are creating. You look at your staff and think is this the right crew? Are these the people I want to go into battle with? Walk into the walk in. Do a final count on everything. Make sure prep is done properly. Ok, we got this. Lets do it. Open the doors! These are thoughts right before you open your doors when you are opening a restaurant. You think about every detail. What will be the first impression from the first customer. Its extremely hard to open a restaurant. Its not easy by any means. I have had the privilege and honor to open many restaurants. This week along with a really good friend. We tried P.Terry’s new concept Taco Ranch. It has taken me a couple of days to think about what I wanted to say. Talking it over Ainsley and having her remind me of why we decided to have the blog we have. I feel that I need to speak the truth of my experience. Not just my own. But those that I have heard from other ” foodies”. Here we go.
Monday we are closed. It’s a day that most restaurants are closed. Its a day of rest. A day to regroup. Many service industry workers spend Sunday nights drinking the night away and partying like its a Saturday night. But for some chefs, it’s another long day at the restaurant.
When you search for your favorite thing to eat in Austin and you don’t find what you are looking for. There are only a couple of things you can do about it. For most of us, we go home and try and make it ourselves. Or just give up and go about our day. But for Raya Naser, she did things a little differently. You see Raya tried really hard to find her favorite Mediterranean place in Austin.
Author: Ainsley Daschofsky
Every step I took away from the restaurant, concrete and bricks flashing into my eye retina, was like an interference. With a satisfaction so deep that the world couldn’t match, I licked my mind lips over and over. The match as a memory of fire hitting meat. The memory of lamb ribs on top of me like a lass I’d been imagining for years and had finally won. The fat from the smoked rib charred my teeth with a memory’s gush as the fat spilled down my throat, swallowed into me. Eyes closed, keeping all else away from the brain memorizing every pull of lamb rib. While not memorizing. You can’t memorize what you already know. What your beast knows. Your primal DNA making the taste succulent to your inner knowledge. That’s the thing about flavor. It is no hologram. It was not factory made …until it was. Meat and its flavor is known to every creature that is human. Whether you have McDonalds or not. They can only tap into the buds that scream and dance and cry to their passion. Food. Survival. Instinct. Your brain says meat should be inside it because it is your survival. Cured’s burger was this release from being a part of the world, the modern day, and back into the being part of your insides. The known without speaking. They don’t fuck with meat until it’s a veggie burger or lay down caramelized onions to hide the blood that isn’t there. Even the cheese goes inside the flavor. They char the blood to the perfect texture and honor its true flavor. They cure while pounding love into it. Eyes closed and mind dripping with bloody sweetness we call Cured our home.
If you were to look up best ramen in America you wouldn’t think to look for it in Austin, Texas. You would think to look in San Francisco, New York or even Seattle. But on the South side of Austin between a flying pizza shop and a wine bar sits Ramen Tatsu-ya.