It was Sunday morning in San Antonio, Texas. I had already showered and checked out of my hotel on the riverwalk. The wedding lunch from the day before was a distant memory to my stomach. I was on the hunt for a movie theater when I saw it. There, on the side of the frontage road, emerging from behind a cluster of trees like a desert oasis - Pappasito's. I have never parked faster.
It was packed. We're talking 30 people milling around the hostess stand, waiting for a seat on Father's Day. Not this girl. I headed straight to the bar, ordered a water and a medium queso. I can still taste that melted, hot cheese on the toasted salty chips (as thin as paper). The only thing better would have been having my father there to buy me a margarita (on the rocks, with salt).
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