If you live in Austin, people will visit you. In that regard, living in Austin is like living in Santa Fe, New York, or Boulder. So we went to the Frisco Shop, but it was a little late in the day and the best biscuits in town were sold out.

At the counter was a man buying a quart of cole slaw to take home. On another stool was a man waiting for an entire pie to be boxed up to go.

It was after the mid-day dinner rush, and many of the patrons were lingering over their pie. For some it was apple; for others, pecan; for still others it was banana or coconut cream. When the bicuits are made for the day, the pie-baking begins.

In our booth the pleasures included a Top Chop’t regular, a Frisco Special, and chicken-fried steak with mashed potatoes and green beans cooked down with ham.

At the Frisco, there’s a test. You’re asked whether you want cornbread or garlic bread with your order. I’ve never, ever heard anybody ask for the garlic bread. If anyone ever did, I suspect he’d be told that it’s sold out for the day. Why would anyone not opt for cornbread? It’s baked in small batches so that it doesn’t sit in the warmer drawer for very long. It’s proper cornbread, not cakelike and not sweet.

It was a disappointment to be too late for biscuits, but after all the supper rush was soon to begin. This is one of the friendliest places in town and the last vestige of the old Night Hawk empire.

We were spoiled when we lived in the land of Night Hawk; now it’s a fair trip north to reach the land of Frisco. But worth it.