Author: Trey Chapman

Good Day,

Some years back Top Chef Stefon Rishel said to me one night, “Trey, have you eaten at Clay Pigeon and have you met Marcus Paslay yet?” The answer to both questions was no and no. I ask Stefon, “What in the world is a Paslay anyway? Sounds like a flower child!” Stefon went on to say how incredible Clay Pigeon and Chef Marcus Paslay were! Sometimes when people rave about a particular Chef or place, they tend to over exaggerate. But, knowing Stefon- he wouldn’t just give credit away to any ol’ chef, cook, or kitchen unless they are truly incredible. After Stefon’s great praising session, I got all excited. I couldn’t wait to meet this Chef Marcus Paslay, the flower child- or so I thought!

It didn’t take me long to get to Clay Pigeon on White Settlement Road. When I pulled up, and I saw the little building and it had so much charm- I loved it.

Good Day Chow Hounds,

My family has been in Texas for 170 years farming, ranching, operating restaurants, meat packing plants, and multiple other businesses. I love Texas history, but I especially love the history that involves Texas food, drink and the businesses that bring folks together. If you love Texas, food, and drinks, then get your taste buds ready for some deliciousness in history.

Way back in 1927 in Fort Worth, Texas, a man who worked for Armor Packing Plants named Joe Riscky decided to quit his job making 9.00 dollars a week. At that time Joe and his wife Mary made a decision to open a little grocery store called Riscky’s Grocery Store and Market. Riscky’s offered everything from a personal touch to fantastic customer service. When they decided to start offering lunches with sandwiches and BBQ, Fort Worth loved it.

Tortas, Tacos & Tostadas…Oh, My!

When my best friend comes into town, there are usually two things guaranteed to happen. We are either going to be on the couch ravenously eating delivery pizza, and binge-watching Netflix or we are going out for tacos and an adventure. Today was one of those “Tacos and Adventures” visits.

My friend, Peaches, groaned hangrily at me in the car to hurry and decide on our taco destination. We were leaving our climbing adventure at Castle Hill’s Graffiti Park, and our thighs burned with a brute reminder that neither one of us had physically exhausted ourselves since P.E. in middle school. Tired and starving, my typical response to her whines would be a groan back that she should pick somewhere, but not today- no, today was different.