Southern Comfort

Ned was fascinated by the idea of eating a deep-fried chile relleno stuffed with slow-smoked beef brisket instead of cheese and ordered that dish after stuffing himself silly on warm tortilla chips and a mild but tasty guacamole. "This may be the only menu in town where you can order prime rib, a cheeseburger and a steak with fried eggs and enchiladas," he noted.

Servers bring out that smoked prime rib only after 5 p.m., but diners can always order a French-dip sandwich, made from shaved slices of rib. I barely finished half of this terrific, two-fisted affair: luscious beef piled on an onion roll and drenched in white cheddar queso. That night, my appetite had been tempered by an excellent fajita salad — an ice-cold jumble of iceberg and romaine tossed with black beans, corn, cheese, tortilla strips and thick slices of chicken breast.

As Ned gave a running monologue about his remarkable relleno slathered in rojo sauce — he claimed it was "one of the best things I've ever eaten in my life" — Bob quietly enjoyed a platter crowded with smoked sausage, a couple of meaty spare ribs, several slices of tender brisket, and a cup of a cheese-drenched creamy hash-brown casserole. It could have fed a half-dozen serious wranglers, but Bob cleaned his plate and had room for dessert.

We agreed that the slab of pecan pie was the least winning entry on the dessert tray. (It was served cold and tasted like a defrosted commercial bakery product.) Ned's hefty mound of hot peach cobbler was probably the best. There are other things I'd like to try on Wil Jenny's dessert menu, but that would require a lot more self-control earlier in the evening and several more trips out south.

But I might as well enjoy the drive to 135th Street, before the county really does sprawl all the way to Texas. Wil Jenny's Tables & Tap