Texas Highways
October 2008

Top Tables
Noteworthy Culinary Journeys

by DICK HOLLAND
Photographs by Larry Kolvoord

SEVERAL DECADES AGO, the small town of Fredericksburg became a popular shopping destination in the Texas Hill Country. On Saturdays and Sundays especially, FredBurg (as some locals call it) is packed with cars and pedestrians. Fine home decor is for sale on Main Street, along with designer women’s clothes, extravagant garden furniture, and posh outfits for pampered children and pets. The cafes and bakeries in town support this phenomenon, including traditional places like the Dietz Bakery, which usually sells out of bread and baked goods by mid morning, and new ones like Rather Sweet Bakery and Cafe. For many visitors, a trip to the Hill Country is not complete without lunch in  one of Fredericksburg’s biergarten restaurants.

     All that’s well and good, but if you drive west out of Fredericksburg on S 290, and bear right on US 87, about 10 miles from town, you’ll come to a converted gas station with a metal roof showing the fading emblem of a Texas star and the words “Hill Top” painted on it. After the scented candles and white wine of Fredericksburg, this looks like it might be a good old-fashioned burger and beer joint. It is that, but it is much, much more: a first-class seafood restaurant that also features Louisiana and Greek cook­ing and some of the most authentic blues music you’ll ever hear.

     Just inside the door on the right is a counter with a few backless bar stools --a good place to sit if you’re eating alone at lunchtime. The rest of the cafe is in a sizable room off to the left that is heavily decorated with music posters, weathered signs, and objects that some might call folk art. The Hill Top is a little place, and upon entering, you may encounter the heavenly aroma of simmering seafood gumbo coming out of the kitchen. On a recent visit, I quickened my step to a table so I could examine the lunch menu and order right away.

     I took the plunge and ordered a cup of gumbo and a fried oys­ter po’ boy. The gum­bo was the real deal, full of fresh, sweet­ tasting Gulf shrimp, and the sandwich was a New Orleans-style “dressed” po’ boy. The oysters were crunchy, the roll tasted homemade, and the dressing was piquant. And then Johnny Nicholas joined me at my table.

     Johnny Nicholas is the straw that stirs the drink at the Hill Top -- owner, kitchen su­pervisor, front man, greeter, player of the old upright piano in the corner of the big room, and singer/blues guitar player extraordinaire. I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that he washes dishes at midnight. My interest was divided equally between the Hill Top’s fine reputation as an eating place and Johnny’s somewhat underground reputation as one of the country’s finest blues interpreters.

     The history of the cafe is almost as colorful as the owner’s musical anecdotes. In 1981, Johnny and his wife, Brenda Schlaudt, moved to the Hill Country and soon bought the abandoned gas station, set up a room to live in, and cooked and kept warm using a wood-burning stove. Johnny and Brenda both liked to cook and before long were cooking for their friends. Johnny’s recipes came st