How to have a barbecue-free blast in booming downtown Lockhart

While that’s not completely true — Lockhart was once known as the barbecue capital of the world, R.I.P. — it certainly didn’t have a spot to order matcha or golden milk. If you’ve ever read a real estate or Airbnb listing, though, you can understand how Chaparral’s mere existence imported the marketing language that helped transform Lockhart.

“We literally opened up a coffee shop that created [the idea of], ‘It’s a small town, it’s got a beautiful square and it has a coffee shop that I can walk to. I’m moving there,'” Burge says. 

The housing statistics bear this out. In June 2019, the median price for single-family homes in Caldwell County was $198,750, down 5 percent over the previous year. Homes spent an average of 51 days on the market, and that month — just three years ago — only 25 single-family homes were sold in the county.

Compare those numbers to May 2022, the most recent stats provided by ABoR. The median home price is now $345,000, an increase of more than 43% year-over-year. Homes lasted, on average, about two weeks on the market and 64 homes sold, with 48 more pending.

It’s safe to say that moving to Lockhart as a post-Austin lifehack is beyond over. But as a day trip — I am not the first nor will I be the last to realize its newer charms — it’s rather unbeatable. Here’s how I spent the better part of a weekday without (barely) ever leaving the square, and by only visiting spots that were new to me.

Chaparral Coffee and Good Things

I began with coffee and ended with (spoiler alert) cocktails in Lockhart, because that seems to be life’s natural progression. 

Chaparral Coffee, on East Market Street, with its prominent promise of coffee, WiFi, and good friends welcomed me in, where I enjoyed an espresso served to me by a cheerful barista. The shop had a very home-type feel, and most people there were chatting with their friend or meeting over a cold brew. Burge tells me that’s part of the appeal of Chaparral.

“That’s where a lot of contracts have been written, a lot of business handshakes have happened,” she says. “That’s where people have met with their realtors. It is that little community hub.”

The coffee shop is universal. Everyone needs caffeine, right? Burge’s other business nearby is a bit more niche. A few days before my visit, some good ’ol boys were complaining about the prices at Good Things, which is a stone’s throw away from Chaparral. 

“I am not here to compete, price-wise, with H-E-B,” Burge says. “What I’m trying to do is fill in the gaps between what they already offer and what Walmart already offers, and provide a level of convenience. It is not for everybody.”

It’s true that Good Things is somewhat of a specialty store, with $10 keto mayonnaise and bulk nutritional yeast and vegan kimchi. But it also has everyday staples like $3 breakfast tacos (the only ones in town made with with local eggs, I am told), Daisy sour cream, and fresh produce.

Burge says she has the “natural wine conversation” almost every day with customers — me included, as I pick up a recommended natural piquette for my wife — acknowledging that since the new influx of people to town, there’s been a culture change that can sometimes feel bittersweet.

“It’s just one of those things: you don’t have to love what I’m doing, you know, but enough people do,” she says. “So it’s worth it.” 

Loop & Lil’s

Pizza? In Lockhart? I must be crazy, right? To top it off, I was born in raised in the best pizza state in the nation, which is New Jersey and absolutely not New York.

I popped into the pizza joint just off the main square and was charmed immediately by a signifier of my youth: the enormous plastic red cups filled with soda. I ordered one with my lunch combo, which included a slice and a small salad.

The slice looked odd. Still technically a triangle, at first sight it reminded me of something I’d get on a beige plastic tray in middle school. But the plain slice had a nice texture. It had a nice snap to it, the cheese and sauce were tasty, and the crust was fluffy but not underdone. 

Accompanying the slice was a small Italian salad. If you think I felt nervous ordering pizza in Lockhart, imagine how this carnivore felt about consuming veggies on the square. In the last 15 or so years of eating at the likes of Kreuz and Black’s, I have never had anything approaching a leafy green on my plate until today. It was even better than the slice, though.

The produce tasted fresh, the vinaigrette tangy and full of flavor, and I only felt a little self-conscious forking leaves and bell peppers into my mouth in the shadow of Smitty’s.

Magic Mirror Vintage and Golden Hour

Nearby are two vintage stores just doors from each other. Each one is great in its own way: Magic Mirror with its robust collection of rock and metal tees, and Golden Hour’s meticulously curated books section.

I did my wallet a favor and skipped the Judas Priest concert T-shirt I was eyeing at Magic Mirror and opted for a beautiful paperback copy of Dashiell Hammett’s classic mystery The Maltese Falcon from Golden Hour.

Either, though, is worth the time to comb through on your way across the square.

Best Little Wine and Books

If Good Things seems a bit niche, imagine, then, a store that carries mostly only books and wine located just off the square. At Best Little Wine & Books, interlopers like myself or locals like the couple I ran into in the little green building can shop for orange wine and dry rosé, books about Japanese cocktails and jars of pickled okra. Specific as it is, so far, the business has been a hit in Lockhart.

Owner and Lockhart resident Kaye Askins, who opened the store with her partner, Nickel City’s (and Old Pal’s) Travis Tober, says she asked locals about which wines they couldn’t find in town but wanted to drink and started curating from there. 

“We have a lot of community support. That’s been fantastic,” she says. “The number one goal before we opened was to come out and make friends and have something for the community.”

As the store’s sole employee and operator — unless you count her dog, Chicken, who hangs out every day in his little bed — Askins has ample opportunity to use her experience as senior beverage manager for Eataly Dallas to find folks exactly what they’re craving. She says the weekdays are mostly locals, with weekends being filled by people from Austin driving down to hit all the new spots in Lockhart.

“A lot of people really trust my judgment, which is nice,” she says. Askins educates customers on wine varietals, asking them what they normally drink and trying to find them other versions of similar wines. “They are all great quality, but if it’s not for you, I will find you something else.”

Askins does just that, finding me a glass of schiava when I tell her I mostly drink pinot noirs or Austrian reds. As I drink it, we talk about Italian wines, and the couple next to me joins in. Before long, we’re all just chatting, sipping grapes on a Tuesday afternoon, just trying to escape the blistering heat outside.

“More than anything,” Askins says, smiling, “it really is that kind of safe space to be calm and chill.”

Old Pal

Nickel City is one of my favorite bars in Austin, despite its recent status as the go-to place for tech bros who live in the condos that have sprouted like weeds across the city’s East Side. Aside from its insistence on trying wacky boilermaker combos and robust array of world whiskies, it mostly (save for late Saturday night) feels like a comfy neighborhood joint.

Imagine my excitement, then, when I figured out that Lockhart had its own Nickel City … with zero condos in sight. Old Pal, co-owned by Nickel City’s Travis Tober, has some of the same old Austin charm that his Austin, Fort Worth, and (soon) Houston outposts does, but with a distinctly small-town feel.

Though still full from Loop & Lil’s, I was told I had to try a biscuit at the very minimum. It came warm with hot honey and whipped butter, and I was finished practically as soon as the bartender sit it in front of me. I ordered an Old Pal, the eponymous drink that is their twist on the negroni, and was given a taster of the Whata-Frozen when I told them this was my first time.

Though I suffered mightily from brain freeze, it was icy and sweet, with just enough booze to not overpower the Dr Pepper taste.

With my final slurp, I bid this seemingly new town goodbye, with its boutiques and fancy wines spreading across a square upon which Austin bozos like myself descend when our own city feels too claustrophobic. I felt conflicted. Sure, I love this new direction, but I get to swoop in, consume, and leave before the sun sets, just like when I still came here for barbecue.

But on my way out, I saw that the Caldwell County Courthouse, with its lime and red stone facade and clock tower, still dominates the skyline, a reminder of the charm that brought all these new businesses to town — and the reason that any of them will stick around.