Yesterday morning I was driving along Highway 170, mesmerized by the rugged rock formations of the Chisos Mountains, when I saw this Betty Boop trailer parked by the side of the road.
Located just a few miles down the road from La Posada Milagro in Terlingua, Texas (where I’m staying and cannot seem to leave!) the trailer is part of Kathy’s Kosmic Kowgirl Kafe. (Sorry about the dark photos — it was a rare cloudy day — as they don’t do justice to the vibrant PINK paint with which this entire roadside eatery is covered.)
I was certain this place would serve pie. The kitschy-ness of its decor was screaming pie diner, like the one in the movie Waitress, only pinker. So I pulled over, parked my Mini Cooper next to the dusty pick up trucks and jeeps lined up in the parking lot, and inquired within — or without considering the restaurant consists of a walk-up window and outdoor seating.
And there was the Kosmic Kowgirl herself dressed in all her pink glory, from head to toe: pink cowboy hat, pink t-shirt, and pink Crocs. I can only guess that her underwear is pink too. And god knows, she surely owns pink cowboy boots. (Kathy is pictured here in her pink schoolbus, used for indoor seating during the colder months. With temperatures reaching 100 degrees this month, the bus — nor her cowboy boots — is not getting much use at the moment.)
I scanned the menu for pie. Um, excuse me Dallas Barbie, do you mind moving your big, blond, Texas hair so I can read it? Thanks.
I scanned the menu for pie. Um, excuse me Dallas Barbie, do you mind moving your big, blond, Texas hair so I can read it? Thanks. What?! No pie?! Kathy and I clearly needed to talk. And we did. “Pie is a good idea,” she agreed. As far as my pie missionary efforts were going, boy, she was an easy convert. “Can you make some pies for me?” she continued. “We have a drive-in movie night on Friday and we could serve pie to our customers.” She pointed to the movie screen, a white sheet strung up between the pink posts that hold up up her pink porch.
How was I supposed to respond? I’m the one who opened the proverbial can of…cherries. “Sure,” I said. “I’ll do it!”
The moral of the story is if you can’t find pie in Texas be prepared to bake it yourself. Looks like that outdoor oven is going to get some use.
PS: Don’t Mess With Texas or you’ll get kicked with one of these. (This boot pose is compliments of a Kosmic koffee-drinking kustomer who happens to be Kanadian.)