The Fig Tree Restaurant

According to Google Maps, it is barely an eight-minute walk from the front door of the Menger Hotel to the San Antonio Riverwalk entrance of the Fig Tree Restaurant in La Villita. Crossing the wide Alamo Plaza, we walk toward the river, descending a myriad of steps on our journey. Turning left we pass the Hilton Palacio del Rio and the Little Rhine Steakhouse. Steps away is the Fig Tree Restaurant—with a path of old stone steps leading up. I could be back in Europe with all of the climbing and descending we have been doing. And that is not a bad thing at all.

Looking up at the rear façade of the Fig Tree Restaurant you would think, modern. Contemporary.  But I know better—old. Very old. The two-story limestone structure was built by Major Jeremiah Dashiell around 1850 and is listed in the National Register of Historic Places. Enough history, we are here to eat.

Ascending the steps, looking with longing at the outdoor seating, afraid to commit to it on this evening that holds predictions of heavy rain, we arrive at the back door and take our seats next to one of the large glass windows looking out over the terraced grounds. A view of the river is lost to us amid all of the trees.

The Dining Room

The room is tiny. Cozy. Obviously old. Obviously historic. The wait staff friendly and efficient, and–unusual for me–I even have a plan for what I will eat and drink.  Seafood. Champagne.

After delivering crusty flavorful olive bread our server tells us about the days special. I’m flexible, changing my mind, traveling in the totally opposite direction. Michael hands me the wine list and says, “You choose.”

Soup and Salad

Although Michael and I both ordered the Chef’s Special for our entrée, our choices are vastly different in the appetizer department. Michael’s Heirloom Tomato Burrata Salad looks wonderful. I gaze longingly at his summer-ripe heirloom tomatoes glistening with basil infused olive oil and drizzled with molasses-thick balsamic vinegar. He allows me a small bite of the yellow heirloom variety of tomatoes—delicious.

Meanwhile, I tuck into my small bowl of Lobster Bisque. It is light, delicate—barely tasting of lobster. A tiny bit disappointed at this fact, I comfort myself with the thought that it is not overly decadent and a sip of soup with a bite of intense olive bread gives me the flavor boost I am looking for.

The Entree

Our server arrives with our twin entrees, a house interpretation of Beef Wellington. Based on his earlier description, it is exactly what I was expecting. Michael was expecting my version of Beef Wellington—a fillet encrusted in flaky pastry. This version, consisting of a perfectly cooked two-inch thick fillet, is a lighter rendition–if a fillet can be described as “light”–of the classic. Triangles of puff pastry form both the base and the topping for the beef, which is covered with a thin layer of pâté and drenched in a savory wine-laced bordelaise sauce loaded with mushrooms. The Potatoes Mousseline accompanying the beef is appropriately light and tasty. The wine—the Seghesio Zinfandel—is rich and jammy with fruit. The flavor of berries and spices wash down the delicious beef.

Baked Alaska for Dessert

We really don’t need dessert—I couldn’t even finish my entrée, but Michael requests a dessert menu. We’ll share—I get to choose. I stop after reading the first option. I have never in my life had a Baked Alaska, and here is my chance.

“Do you bring it to the table flaming?” I ask.

“We did, once.” I am told, “But it became too much of a hazard.”

We share. I’m in dessert heaven.  A big fan of meringue anything, the spiky shaped meringue forms a delicate sweet crunch which accompanies, the combination of solidly frozen pistachio and chocolate ice-creams sitting atop the thin slice of vanilla cake. We must have coffee—maybe it won’t keep us awake.

Michael reminds me, “Don’t forget to finish your wine.”

Meringue is a wine killer. Is there a sad face emoji anywhere in the house?

We leave by the front door, stepping out into the streets of Old La Villita, turning left and taking the path along city streets back to the Menger Hotel.

A Bit of History – Major Jeremiah Dashiell

An acquaintance of two presidents, Major Jeremiah Dashiell was a physician, teacher, soldier, and editor of the San Antonio Herald. He made his way to San Antonio via Delaware, Maryland, Kentucky, Mississippi, and New Orleans. At the age of forty-two at the beginning of the Mexican War, he was appointed paymaster in the United States Army, promoted to the rank of Major three years later, he then traveled to San Antonio, spending the remaining thirty-nine years of his life in this city with a river running through it.