
Today I went to a chinese fast food restaurant. It is called "Magic China". The food was pretty good, and plentiful, but let me give you a taste of the experience. As I enter the small two-room restaurant, the walls are a rough, unfinished wood paneling, the type you would expect to see in a novelty store selling country wares. A mid-aged brunette comes up and asks warmly, "What da y'all want ta drink?" We each place our orders, each deciding on our choice of soup. Mom orders the Hot & Sour soup, Daniel the Egg Drop, and I get Wonton soup. The waitress exclaims, "Well ain't tha' niice! Y'all are all different!" She also calls me "honey". I notice the menu has the slogan Chinese food served the American Way.
Now so far this experience would give you a decent idea of where I am. Certainly not in a big city, and probably in the South. But the next thing that happens made it clear to me that there was no mistaking where I was. Along with our soups, the waitress brings out a bowl and sets it in the middle of the table. It is filled with fried wonton noodles. Now this might not ring any alarm bells for those of you who are not familiar with Texas, so allow me to enlighten you.
Texas is filled with a litany of Tex-Mex restaurants. In East Texas, where my family lives, there are probably more Tex-Mex restaurants than Barbeque places, more than burger joints, more than Ice Creameries or pizza shops, more than Catfish huts or flapjack palaces, probably even more than McDonald's. The one thing that all Tex-Mex places have in common is that chips and salsa are complimentary. Half of the time you get full just by eating tortilla chips.
So when the fried wontons come out and I see the starchy, fried crispy appetizer, I definitely know where I am. Not to mention the table next to us asked the waitress politely, "Do you know where our chips are?"

