Lisa Gray has a wonderful story today in the Chronicle on Luby’s and general Houston nostalgia:
If you’re a native Houstonian, you ate at Luby’s as a kid. Most of us ate there after church on Sundays, after a recital at school, before seeing a movie at the four-plex cinema down the road or just as a special treat to get out of the house.
I loved, l-o-v-e-d, loved Luby’s when I was little. Their macaroni and cheese and fried okra were the end all and be all of fine cuisine as far as I was concerned. And, as Lisa points out, their green Jell-O was a favorite dessert:
But the Jell-O remains, in all its jiggly splendor. At the beginning of the serving line, just after you’ve collected your tray, you face opaque lime-green squares, consorting unrepentantly with leafier, more virtuous salads.
Looking at that Jell-O, you know exactly where you are.
Even to this day, when I’m sick or feeling down, I ask for those three items from Luby’s: mac and cheese, fried okra and green Jell-O. Just ask my poor husband, who makes the trek out to their To-Go window.
There’s something massively comforting about Luby’s. I don’t know if it’s the consistency of the food and the decor in their cavernous dining rooms, the sweet memories of childhood or the fact that you’re usually surrounded by cute little old ladies who look like your grandma, but Luby’s will never get old for me. And I will never get too old for Luby’s.
After all, you have to love a restaurant which has lent the name of its most popular dish to a character on that pinnacle and paradigm of Texas culture: King of the Hill.