We nearly asked to be moved several tables down river so we could hear the next fact. Regardless, the food was kind of amazing. The tamale, the enchilada, the rice and the beans felt a little like comfort food. It was proper, classic Tex-Mex- no new groundbreaking recipe there. I certainly hope not. We both went for “The Regular Plate, a favorite since 1946.” With a menu promise like that, you want an old standard. It also comes with Chili con Carne, which is completely amazing. With the promise of the original recipe from the Chili Queens who served it in San Antonio’s plazas in the 1800s, you pretty much have to try it. I figure some things endure because they’re just that good. After the regular plate with the Chili Queen chili on it, we wandered back toward The Menger, which is right next door to the Alamo. Remember that place?
We had pre-booked a guided tour, and with it, we got a tour guide. This time around, we had a young woman named Summer with a degree in anthropology who essentially taught my whole seventh grade history class in one hour-long tour. While she was a good deal quicker than Mrs. O’Neal at North Junior High, she wasn’t a whole lot more compelling. She stood next to a glassed-in model of the Alamo grounds and gave a 20-minute talk culminating in the attack that Santa Ana’s regimen perpetrated on the grounds of this former Spanish mission. There were elementary-aged kids in the tour group who sat on the ground, and one absolutely laid down. Summer forged ahead, explaining the style of government Mexico had and how Santa Ana dismantled it in favor of what was a de facto dictatorship. Oof. But the tour was, overall, a win, and we got a pretty good look at the Alamo. We also got into the relatively new building off to the side where all of the collected artifacts were stored. That’s when we were reminded about Phil Collins. Yes, that Phil Collins. Susudio. Invisible touch. In the air tonight. The Genesis guy and apparent Alamo enthusiast. He had a massive collection of Alamo artifacts, and he donated them all to this museum. He also did a narrated thing for a display. It was a huge diorama of the grounds, and as the aging rock star talked about different parts of the battle, a light would shine there to illuminate the spot where the action took place. It was kind of surreal.
After that, we had a little time to kill. We did a little riverwalk strolling and spent a moment back at the hotel, looking over weather reports and adjusting our sweaters and jackets for the evening. The weather app was a little misleading, in fact. We overdressed for our river trip. Regardless, we arrived at Paisano’s, which is the Italian restaurant that was hosting the New Years Eve river cruise dinner. We were directed to sit at the bar until the boat was ready to board, and it loaded about 30 minutes late. We got on, which included us sitting at a long table with many other couples, then we got our drinks and appetizer orders all sorted out. From there, we went once around, sipping Prosecco and listening to a tour guide explain the features of the Riverwalk. Hey, did you know that Casa Rio is the oldest restaurant on the Riverwalk? The more you know…
When the river dinner came to it’s final lap, we had enjoyed a very nice meal. There was a pear and cranberry salad with Gorgonzola cheese, a fancy shrimp appetizer and a very good pasta with shrimp, scallops, mussels and a half of a lobster tail finished off with a flourless chocolate cake. When we got up after that dinner, we needed a little walkabout time just to burn a few calories. We took off to Hemisfair Park, the site of the 1968 World’s Fair. They have the inevitable tall observation deck building on a stick, as so many cities do. Perhaps we’ll peer out from the top of that stick later today. We entered the park, and the closest thing I can equate the atmosphere to would be the carnival-style midway at the state fair. By the way, the midway is my least favorite part of the state fair. There were innumerable booths, food trucks and the constant thrum of Tejano music. I felt like I was at the tail end of every homecoming dance I have ever had to chaperone as a high school teacher in a predominantly Latino school. I am certain it was all the correct mood for their target audience, just as I am certain I was not in that demographic. I felt a little too old for it all. Cas and I headed back to the hotel, as we’d predicted the possibility we’d want an alternative. We had a half-sized bottle of Prosecco stashed in our hotel room fridge, and that became the best sounding option for the midnight toast. But just when you feel a little old, welcome to the lobby of the Menger! There was a piano player there with an assembled, dressed up crowd of decidedly older revelers. The general mood of the hotel lobby reminded me a little of the polka band that played at my grandpa’s wedding to my step-grandma in the mid ‘80s. There was a police officer posted there who looked absolutely tortured with boredom. We took a chance and popped our heads into the Menger bar for a moment, found our same amazing seats (despite a pretty good crowd!) and had one round of very tasty lemon drops before last call happened at 11. That was just about right to get us to the room and to our half-bottle or Prosecco before midnight, when we toasted with plastic cups while laughing at the sounds of the chicken dance song (I know, right!) filtering up from the lobby.
But even a lounge act knows when it’s time to play Auld lang syne and lift a glass. So, cheers, everyone! It’s 2024, and we’re headed out for a very late morning breakfast in San Antonio. We’ll have one more night at the historic Menger hotel, then it’s back to Dallas, back to reality and time to disassemble the Christmas tree and get back to work. Happy new year, folks!
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