Nobody believes me when I say I’ve decided to retire. “What?!” they exclaim. “You have the best job in Texas!” Yes, I know. My job is fantastic. For the better part of fifty years I have been Texas Monthly’s designated eater, exploring and writing about this state’s rowdy, brilliant, perennially shape-shifting food scene. The pace has been relentless. On a typical day I might roll out of bed in the morning thinking about the lamb kebabs I’d eaten in Houston the night before. Sixteen hours later I would shut my laptop with images floating in my head of the fried seafood platter I’d devoured in Galveston. I’d be having filet in peppercorn sauce in Dallas while scrolling through a list of new restaurants in Fort…
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