A Trip to Paw Paw’s

Years ago, when we were on our way home from Houston we detoured through Bastrop hoping to find a cute mom-and-pop restaurant that was open for business on a cool winter’s evening—a Sunday—in the country. A seemingly impossible task. We serendipitously stumbled on Paw Paw’s. We loved it then, and love it still, and have been back to Paw Paw’s several times since that evening, but not often enough. This trip we prolonged our stay by a day just to be able to eat here. It’s been too long!

Michael slips into a parking slot on Main Street, not too far away from our destination. I open the door to get out of the car and he hands me an umbrella before I am able to complete my exit. “It might rain,” he says.

My eyes open wide with disbelief at what he is saying. It is 110 degrees today! It has been the summer of everlasting drought—the summer of 100+ degree temperatures. I look at the sky. It is covered with clouds—an unusual sight this year. I don’t want to jinx the slight chance of rain by being prepared. The radar on my phone shows an extremely remote possibility—almost zero.

“If I take the umbrella, it won’t rain. If I leave it in the car, it might,” I counter.

I get the look. I take the umbrella.

Paw Paw’s Catfish House

Paw Paw’s has added to their décor since we were here years ago. Outside their entrance are three wrought iron tables with umbrellas and four benches with bright red cushions for those waiting for tables. All this attests to the popularity of the tiny restaurant. We open the door to the unpretentious interior, decorated in a style that reminds me of East Texas swamps or Louisiana bayous—maybe it’s the wall of paddles?

Today, since there is plenty of room inside, we choose a booth rather than a table. We know what we want even before we see the menu. However, when our server hands each of us one, we look. Just in case.

I flip to the back and check the drinks. I’m really not a beer person, but this winter, while in Galveston, I had one from Margaritaville Brewing Company, and I liked it—highly unusual—so I order a Land Shark, waiting to take the first sip until Paw Paw’s Platter with fried catfish shrimp and the requisite sides is set before me. Michael orders the same thing—except he wants all shrimp. He’s never learned to love catfish as much as I do.

Rain?

As we sit and chat and wait, we hear a low rumble outside. “Is that a motorcycle or thunder?” I ask. “It can’t possibly be thunder, can it?”

Nothing happens until our food arrives. Then, the rumbling increases in volume. Facing the front of the restaurant, Michael tells me, “It’s raining.”

Time seems to stop. No one moves except the young employees of Paw Paw’s—who leave their tasks and are drawn toward the plate glass wall like automatons. You would think the Martians had landed; rain is such a foreign, needed, wanted thing. It pours. But only briefly. Then it is gone. I should have walked to the window too—I thought it would stay. At least for awhile.

The Food!

The small world of Paw Paw’s returns to normal, and I’m starved! Breakfast was a long time ago!

EVERYTHING on my plate is delicious! The catfish and shrimp are perfectly prepared—crunchy on the outside, tender and moist within. The French fried potatoes are crisp—not “sogged” out. The coleslaw is a perfect foil, and the pinto beans make me feel like I’m trying to be a little bit healthy. I’m so glad we decided to spend one more night on this trip—Paw Paw’s is worth it. I wish I could package this restaurant and take it home with me. It is so very good.

A Small Miracle

We step outside and gasp. The whisper of a rain storm that passed overhead less than an hour ago cooled the air by more than 20 degrees! Paw Paw’s and almost cool air! What more can one person ask for?

To learn more about Paw Paw’s click on the following link.

https://pawpawscatfishhouse.com/