In Between

Checking out of the Best Western in Goliad at 10:00 a.m. we find ourselves homeless, with no direction or purpose for the next three hours other than driving to Victoria, which may take thirty minutes if we dawdle. “We could see if the Pump House Restaurant will seat us early,” I suggest. But arriving in the parking lot that edges the city park, the idea doesn’t seem like a good one. We circle the area full to the brim with parked cars.

Forced to hit the surface streets we head for the highway continuing east on an exploratory journey, trying to kill several hours. This is new to me. I never have time to kill time—I just run. Twenty minutes into our journey I see a cutoff to Vanderbilt. “Mom was born there,” I say, “We should check it out.”

Heading south on FM 234 we pass fields upon fields of corn and cotton. Flat land. Farm land. My grandfather was a farmer, moving his family of nine children from Vanderbilt to the farming community of Runge when my mother was oh so small. We wander into the tiny burg on Gin Road, crossing 1st Street and by the time we get to 5^th street the village ends. Turning left then right we see the boundary stretches to 8^th. I can’t help but wonder, What if?

Pump House Riverside Restaurant and Bar

Back in Victoria, once again we circle the parking lot at the Pump House. Still full, we see a car back out of their space. We slide in. In seconds we are out of the car walking toward a walled courtyard that appears to shelter an oasis of green. I’m not sure exactly what lies beyond other than a re-purposed historic building—a former water treatment plant on the banks of the Guadalupe River that is now a destination restaurant.

The grounds are lush and beautiful, quite suitable to be sitting on the edge of a park that sports a zoo, a golf course, a duck pond, and a rose garden, among a myriad of other things. The buildings have clean lines with masses of soaring windows, very art deco. We enter through an arched door and are in the middle of a multitude of Sunday brunchers; we sit at a table for two overlooking their outdoor seating area. The interior of the restaurant is pure industrial-rustic, with lots of light,  large arched walls and chattering customers. Not a pretentious bone in its body.

Brunch

Within minutes our waiter places Michael’s Bloody Mary and my Mimosa on the table. After perusing the menu we discover the same dish attracts both of us—Pumped Up Hash. And the choice is hard. The selections are extensive, with everything from Tostadas, to Chicken Fried Ribeye and Eggs, to Shrimp and Grits, to Pecan Chicken and Waffles, and everything in between.

We finish our drinks just in time to receive fresh ones as our entree arrives. We immediately tuck into perfect eggs over easy on top of pecan smoked pulled pork that is sautéed with crispy shredded potatoes, onions and peppers. The gilding of the lily is the jalapeno cheese sauce that lightly blankets the eggs and is studded with pico de gallo. The crispy tortilla strips on top are a brilliant addition and add a very welcome crunch.

After the last bite is gone from each of our plates, we pay the bill and explore our surroundings discovering we missed the music on their out door patio. I didn’t ask if there was room. I didn’t know.

I’m ready to return.