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A guide to 40 of the best bars in Austin that capture the spirit of Texas’ capital city

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A guide to 40 of the best bars in Austin that capture the spirit of Texas’ capital city


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Great bars engender big feelings in folks. They lower our guards, crack us open to new experiences and foster community. They hold space for us to dig in or drop out. 

A bar can offer room to commiserate or celebrate. They’re places to be seen and to hide, to tap into our vulnerabilities and hole up from the world. 

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Just fell in love, broke up, got a new job, been fired? Your favorite bar is there for you. Preparing to leave town or just back after a long time away, or maybe it’s just Wednesday? Your bar’s got you. 

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These are the 40 best bars in Austin, places that help define the town for locals and outsiders. Some serve $18 cocktails, and others can feed and fuel your entire night for $20. 

A quick note on what this list does not include: breweries, wineries or tasting rooms; restaurants (though some barstaurants are included); and joints that are primarily live music venues (though my favorites are listed at the bottom).

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Hopefully the list will introduce you to some new places or remind you what it is you love about that place you keep meaning to get back to.

BEER BARS

Crown & Anchor Pub

Every university in America should be lucky enough to have a bar like Crown & Anchor within a backpack’s toss of campus. A tap wall allures with locals and hazy coastal IPAs. Five dozen cans and bottles pack the fridges, and a flat top that must be covered in a patina of grease dating back to 1987 (that’s a good thing) turns out the best old school burger in town. 2911 San Jacinto Blvd. crownandanchorpub.com. 

Draught House

Any devoted beer lover has in her history a brewpub like Draught House, a place where they first fell in love with microbrews and international imports like Samuel Smith Taddy Porter or La Fin Dumonde. For many Austinites, that touchstone is Draught House (or Draught Horse to those stuck in the late 90s), which dates back to 1969, in the Tudor/Bavarian-style building near the Medical Center. 4112 Medical Parkway. draughthouse.com. 

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50 years of good times at Austin’s Draught House

COCKTAIL BARS

Drink Well 

Drink Well owner Jessica Sanders helped change the cocktail scene in Austin with her intimate and handsome North Loop bar. The bar’s seasonal cocktails, a warming whiskey concoction in winter or a vibrant splash of Caribbean sunshine in the summer, sit alongside well known classics. Drink Well, with its standout burger and other dishes, also evolved the way Austinites think about “bar food.” 207 E. 53rd St. drinkwellaustin.com.

Half Step

Chris Bostick brought some Los Angeles bar sophistication to rowdy Rainey Street when the former Varnish general manager opened this swanky spot in an old bungalow. But he didn’t forget his Austin roots: there were Grateful Dead tunes on the sound system and live jazz to complement the expertly crafted cocktails and handmade ice. The bar doesn’t stay in one lane. Inside, it’s hardwood and moody vibes. It transitions to Southern patio sipping spot and backyard party in the yard. 75 1/2 Rainey St. halfstepbar.com. 

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Las Perlas

The dozens of mescal bottles perched on well-lit, wooden cabinet shelves in this dark bar beckon like medicinal elixirs. And there’s a good chance the small mezcaleria and the experienced bartenders, well-versed in the wide variety of agave spirits on offer, possess the cure for what ails you. One of the city’s best taquerias, Asador, sits on the back patio, ready to complete your Mexican food-and-beverage experience. 405 E. Seventh St. Instagram.com/lasperlasaustin.com.

Whisler’s

This cocktail bar that revolutionized the East Austin drinks scene has been around since 2013, though you might think it’s 60 years older. What was for decades a hub for Chicano politicians looks like a set piece out of Robert Rodriguez’s “From Dusk Till Dawn,” with a massive chandelier, ancient stone walls and a pressed tin roof. The outdoor area and ancillary bar can be good for groups, but the vibes are inside (and upstairs at the cozy Mezcalería Tobalá, open Thursday-Saturday). 1816 E. Sixth St. whislersatx.com. 

DIVE BARS

Aristocrat Lounge

Shuffleboard, darts, billiards, black-and-white photos of Marilyn Monroe, a decent whiskey selection and good prices … what else does a dive bar need? The dozen booths along the wall add a vintage touch, and Yeni’s Indonesian Fusion truck out front is more than one could ever hope for at a bar. The old Poodle Dog Lounge (1964-2013) is now in the caring hands of Austin Kalman, a longtime Austin musician (Lions), who has put a little added heart into one of the best neighborhood dives in Austin. 6507 Burnet Road. aristocratloungeatx.com. 

Barfly’s

Barfly’s has seen some things. And a lot of people have seen things inside Barfly’s they likely don’t remember. Maybe for the best. Mickey Rourke would feel right at home at this dive. The iconic neon martini is basically Rourke in bar sign form. You’re not trudging up the awning-covered stairs to order a perfect Manhattan. You’re bee-lining to cold bottled beer, affordable booze, classic arcade games and a place where pretense gets stared into the corner. Amateurs need not apply, unless they’re packing extra smokes for the table. 5420 Airport Blvd. barflysaustin.com. 

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Casino El Camino

A devilish energy permeates this dark bar, but if you love strong drinks, fat, charbroiled burgers and a bit of attitude, you’ll feel like you’re in heaven, not hell. Owner Paul Eighmey’s bar has been throwing up the rock and roll horns since 1994. 517 E. Sixth St. casinoelcamino.net. 

Deep Eddy Cabaret 

“Local boy does good.” That could have been the headline in 2014 when Will Bridges (and his dad) purchased the West Austin joint that the Hickman family operated for more than 60 years. The Austin High grad wisely chose to make precious few changes, outside of adding some booze and accepting credit cards. When regulars and the bartenders who serve them hang around after a sale of a legacy property like this, you know the transition was smooth. With a historic designation recently granted by the City of Austin, Deep Eddy will be the wood-paneled home for beer-drinkin’, pool-shootin’, game-watchin’ locals for decades to come. 2315 Lake Austin Blvd. deepeddycabaret.com.

Frazier’s Long & Low

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Whoever designed and decorated this bar off Pleasant Valley could probably have her own show chronicling her vintage picking. The beer lamp and sign collection transports you to the ’70s, as do the button-backed booths, and I can almost smell the spilled Dome Foam when I gaze at the classic Astros and Oilers pennants hanging on the faux wood walls. The modestly priced chopped cheese sandwich and juicy little burger are the perfect accompaniments to a Thursday spent sipping $2 Coors. And lest you think the place is soft because it sells a froze, there’s a bumper sticker that gives some pretty clear directions on what you can do if you don’t like ZZ Top. 2538 Elmont Drive. fraziersbar.com. 

Grackle 

If you ever want to hide out at a place your mother-in-law won’t find you, there are worse options out there. The exhausted wood and rusted metal covering the entry to this bar named after Austin’s avian menace make the Grackle feel like a watering hole from “Mad Max.” But don’t let all the rough edges, tattoos and lack of interior lighting fool you. Sometimes a tough exterior belies a soft inside. A cheeky, teeny bopper poster and a comical admonishment of White Russian drinkers let you know that Tim Murphy’s bar has a sense of humor. A colorful sign and friendly bar staff make it clear that All Are Welcome on this pirate ship that persists amid the sleek new buildings lining East Sixth’s Condo Canyon. 1600 E. Sixth St. Instagram.com/the_grackle.

 LaLa’s Little Nugget

You know all of those holiday-themed pop up bars that start thirsting for attention on Instagram in December? That’s not this. Matt Luckie’s FBR Management bought the Crestview legend from Frances Lala about a decade ago, and wisely changed little about the friendly dive that is covered in garland, tinsel and Christmas ornaments year-round. The most recent update: the place now smells like pizza from the adjacent Pedrosa’s Pizza, a top 10 Austin pizza joint next door that is happy to deliver you a New York-style slice or fat square while you sip your whiskey and shoot pool. 2207 Justin Lane. lalasaustintexas.com. 

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Low Down Lounge

When your bar is run by hirsute erstwhile mayoral candidate Allen Demling (the lost ZZ Topper), you know your bar is gonna have a sense of humor. Along with something called a frozen mango colada and a $7 special of a whiskey shot served with a back of La Barbecue pickle brine, the Low Down serves as a good litmus test for the newcomers and AirBNB bros as to whether or not they get Austin. 1412 E. Sixth St. lowdownlounge.com. 

Nickel City

A trend has swept the country and even made its way overseas. We’ll call it Rust Belt porn: people attempting to replicate the 70s-era bars that evoke the corner-entry, brick-walled neighborhood pubs illuminated mostly by old beer signs and a flickering black-and-white television. Haunts people dive into to escape a harsh winter evening, when it’s dark outside by 4 p.m. Nickel City, with DNA that stretches back to Buffalo and Detroit, comes by the feel honestly. The highballs on tap and the cheap beers that arrive next to them are a great reward for a day of hard work or the set up for a night of hard leisure. If imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, Nickel City’s face should be as red as an Old Milwaukee Light bottle because one of Austin’s best watering holes has been the inspiration for countless bars, whether those joints know it or not. 1133 E. 11th St. nickelcitybar.com.

Shangri-La

Brick walls, a lipstick red, button-backed circular booth and two pool tables give quintessential dive appeal to one of the first bars to bring rock ‘n’ roll dive vibes to East Austin. The back patio has hosted many a post-show throw down, and institution of American dramatic arts, Bill Murray, even jumped behind the bar during a rowdy SXSW night and poured tequila for sweaty patrons. 1016 E. Sixth St. shangrilaaustin.com. 

Silver Medal 

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You don’t get to always choose your neighbors when opening a bar, but I doubt Silver Medal would trade the motel next door for anyone else. A motel and a dive housed in an old Mexican restaurant side by side on the feeder road of a sad little stretch of highway … welcome to the opening shot of a 70s movie called “Anywhere, America.” But if you just threw a dart at a map, you wouldn’t hit a spot with a burger this good. The twisted tea on tap, Jell-O shots and chili dog punch card may be ironic, but the good times are not. 7100 US 290. Instagram.com/the_silver_medal.

NEIGHBORHOOD BARS

Cheer Up Charlies

It’s rare to find a bridge between Old Austin and modern Austin as profound as the one created by Maggie Lea and Tamara Hoover at 900 Red River St. Sandra Dee Martinez operated Chances, a pioneering lesbian bar and a hub for the LGBTQ+ community, from 1982 to 1994. The address was home for 20 years to Club Deville, a hangout for the hard drinking creative set, and Lea and Hoover have created their own 10-year (and counting) history. What started as a food truck and then a bar in East Austin in 2009 has grown into an all-are-welcome meeting and celebratory space for the LGBTQ+ community, a place where you might find yourself in the middle of an outrageous dance party one night or tucked away at the back bar crying into your cocktail and leaning on a friend’s shoulder the next (or maybe that was just me). 900 Red River St. cheerupcharlies.com.

Cloak Room

Some Texas State Capitol denizens used to joke that anytime a bomb threat was called into the Capitol, legendary Austin barman Jim LeMond over at the Cloak Room was behind it. The idea being that he would benefit as his mahogany-paneled bar would fill up quickly with those decamping from the dome. The subterranean bar next to the Capitol is a regular haunt for lawmakers, and visiting the dark, sometimes-secretive-sometimes-rowdy bar, is a rite of passage not just for young Capitol workers but for any tippler in town. If you didn’t spend part of the 90s trying to charm longtime bar boss Beverly Pruitt, you missed out on part of what made living (and drinking) in Austin great. 1300 Colorado St.

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Donn’s Depot

Maybe it was an office Christmas party, or, better yet, a friend who heard you’d never been to Donn’s dropped whatever drink y’all were drinking elsewhere and hauled your butt to the old train depot-turned-bar south of Clarksville. Maybe the eponymous Donn Adelman was sitting at the piano playing a stirring version of “Suspicious Minds.” Whatever the occasion, you undoubtedly remember the first time you visited what I consider the best bar in Austin. Septuagenarians glide two steps at a time across the dance floor, as newbies stand in awe of the unselfconscious joy that comes from being in one’s element. If you’re lucky enough to become recognizable by bartenders Michelle Beebe and Tammi Schissler, you feel like you’ve made it to the final level of Austin bargoer. The pandemic threatened to take Donn’s, and the public response to buttress the Austin institution was heartwarming and unsurprising. 1600 W. Fifth St. donnsdepot.com.

Meet the regulars behind Donn’s Depot’s iconic Christmas decorations in Austin

Little Brother

Yes, there’s some irony to placing this tiny (less than 400 square feet) rapscallion of a bar in the “Neighborhood Bars” section considering the bar’s disdain for the Rainey Street hood it inhabits. Little Brother needles the neighbors and the bros who patronize them, throws epic unpermitted outdoor hardcore shows in the middle of a weekday, and partner Matthew Bolick might be seen pulling burnouts on his miniature dirt bike. What else would you expect from a Little Brother? OK, how about a shot and a beer, or maybe you’re more into shot-sized cocktails? Little secret: the regular cocktails and coffee program are actually very mature. But don’t tell anyone. No need to spoil LB’s rep. 89 Rainey St. littlebrotherbar.com.

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OUTDOOR HANGS

Cosmic Saltillo

The second location from Cosmic Hospitality creates an urban oasis in the middle of an East Austin almost unrecognizable from a few years ago. The rain capture tank and the outdoor seating beneath a blanket of vines that will only become more jungle-y as the years pass make the place feel like a landscape architect’s installation as much as a bar. The day-glo order boards at the bar inside look like if the Mos Eisley Cantina had a Bourbon Street location, though the flavor profiles are much more sophisticated than that description, like the tequila, mezcal, espresso, cocoa cream and mole bitter in the Frozen Boozy Coffee. 1300 E. Fourth St. cosmichospitalitygroup.com.

Kitty Cohen’s

About halfway between South Beach and Palm Springs is Kitty Cohen’s and the retro pool bar shares DNA with both of its far flung neighbors. The decor and design, marked by palm trees, flamingoes, pool furniture and the sultry camp of a naked Burt Reynolds, all speak to the ’60s and ’70s inspirations. The frozen drinks, a must-have for a largely outdoor bar with poolside seating, are nicely balanced and the wine and house cocktail lists are smart and refreshing. The pool party barbecue vibes get kicked up with regular food pop-ups. 2211 Webberville Road. kittycohens.com.

Pool Burger

McGuire Moorman Lambert Hospitality has built an empire by creating rich aesthetics that transport guests. Their approach is as effective at Pool Burger as any of their high-dollar restaurant build outs. You can almost hear Reed Rothchild’s blender when you take a seat at the Pool Burger bar for one of their many killer frozen or tiki drinks. OK, nothing as tawdry as a “Boogie Nights” pool party is happening here. Maybe it’s the ’70s funk on the sound system that boosts the Paul Thomas Anderson classic to top of mind. But you’ve also got cinder block beachside hostel vibes going on, and a little bit of “Fast Times at Ridgemont High,” what with the neighboring Deep Eddy pool. Don’t come here if you plan on doing anything productive with your day. 2315 Lake Austin Blvd. poolburger.com.

Yellow Jacket Social Club

If you didn’t know this bar from Amy Mullins and Shannon LeBoeuf existed, you might walk right past it. Though the perpetual crowd stuffed in the thicket of trees would probably alert you something’s going on. The old building that was once home to Cafe Mundi looks like it’s covered in barnacles, adding to the mystery created by the mini Medieval forest that guards it. Yellow Jacket could just as easily be placed in the bar/restaurant hybrid thanks to its menu of sandwiches, salads and snacks that make it a favorite of many vegetarians who like to imbibe. Not many places where you can get a mezze platter and a Paper Plane cocktail variation called the Yellow Plane, made with whiskey, Montenegro, Aperol and lemon juice. 1704 E. Fifth St. yellowjacketsocialclub.com.

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“SPEAKEASY” COCKTAIL BARS

Equipment Room

Can’t find the time or the funds to jump a flight to Tokyo? Tucked beneath the Hotel Magdalena off South Congress might be the next best thing. This cocktail bar takes inspiration from the jazz kissa bars of Japan and bills itself as a “hi-fi vinyl sanctuary.” The sound system backs up the claim. Whether you’re locked in with a pair of headphones or listening more casually while snacking on chicken karaage and sipping a classic cocktail at the bar, the rich, textured sounds are as much a part of the experience as the fine-tuned drinks. The sexy curves of the mid-century design are worthy of an Architectural Digest spread, and the “vinyl omakase” Sunday nights, where an album is presented in its entirety along with a conversation around the work, are unique programming in the Austin entertainment scene. 1101 Music Lane. equipmentroom.com. 1101 Music Lane. equipmentroom.com.

Firehouse Lounge

There’s a hostel in downtown Austin? There’s a bar hidden behind a bookcase in downtown Austin? There’s a firehouse that dates back to 1885 in downtown Austin? Yes, yes, and yes. And it’s all one place. Talk about a value add, this bar secreted away from the hostel lobby is colored in reds and blacks, lending more sexy mystique to the place. The staff keep things pretty loose and fun, a vibe complemented by regular DJ programming. And, no, you don’t have to stay at the hostel upstairs to drink there. 605 Brazos St. firehousehostel.com.

Midnight Cowboy

If you’re a seasoned cocktail drinker in Austin who appreciates class and intimacy in your drinking experiences, you know which name to push on the call pad outside of Midnight Cowboy. That buzzer alerts the staff, who whisk you in off Dirty Sixth for your reservation (or possibly welcome you as a walk-in, if the vacancy light is on). Alamo Drafthouse founders Tim and Karrie League sold the bar housed in a former massage parlor to Matt Luckie’s FBR Management at the end of 2021, and Luckie’s team has stayed true to the vision of classic cocktails, some prepared tableside, served to about a dozen guests at a time in small leather banquettes and a couple of private rooms. 313 E. Sixth St. midnightcowboymodeling.com.

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Small Victory 

Hang around Austin long enough and you’ll see just about everything, like a no frills burger joint (Mike’s Pub) in a parking garage being converted into a handsome cocktail bar. From dirty ice to handmade ice in a generation. The intimate establishment only seats about a couple of dozen folks, making a spot at the bar or in one of the plush blue banquettes feel like a major score. The furtive entry, cozy confines, and ability to chat with one of the experienced bartenders to learn exactly what makes a perfect martini give a private bar experience to a night at Small Victory. 108 E. Seventh St. smallvictory.bar.

Techo Mezcaleria & Agave Bar

Techo is part of a multi-generational hospitality success story in East Austin. Aurelio and Rosa Torres opened Mi Madre’s in 1990. Their chef son, Edgar, and his wife and fellow chef, Christina, now operate the family Mexican restaurant and the mezcal speakeasy they’ve operated for about a decade. You have to look closely to find the stairway that leads to this squat, dimly lit, wood-laden bar that looks like it was plucked from the rolling hills of Mexico. Bar manager Ian Couch and his staff are happy to walk guests through tastings of the wide variety of mezcal on offer, explaining nuances of provenance and production. The upstairs bar with the small outdoor patio is one of the great hidden gems in Austin’s nightlife scene. 2201 Manor Road. Instagram.com/techomezcaleria.

Tiki Tatsu-Ya 

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It’s surprising there aren’t more Tiki bars in Austin. But, if anyone had an inkling to open one, they might reconsider after visiting Tiki Tatsu-Ya. “I’m not building a restaurant-bar this time,” Ramen Tatsu-Ya co-founder Tatsu Aikawa said at the time of the bar’s opening. “I’m building Disneyland.” He wasn’t lying. Aikawa created a fantastical bar buoyed by its own elaborate fictional backstory, with aesthetic touches that include elaborate shadow boxes designed by Blue Genie Art Industries; antique Tiki masks; a massive shisa dragon water feature; choreographed light and sound effects to accompany large-format cocktails; and sunset-lit windows upstairs that make you feel like it’s eternally happy hour on the beach. Oh yea, and the Tiki drinks are strong and fantastic, and the pupu platter, with its wings, ribs and shrimp, is a real table pleaser. 1300 S. Lamar Blvd. tiki-tatsuya.com.

RESTAURANT/BAR HYBRIDS

Busty’s Bar & Jukebox

It’s hard to stylize a joint with as much rich detail as Busty’s without tipping over into kitsch, but this place pulls it off with its homages to ’70s hot rod, drinking and pin-up culture. The 1969 Corvette Stingray hanging from the dining room’s ceiling would be a little much, but Busty’s walks the vintage talk with a classic cigarette machine that actually gets a decent workout. Busty’s is the kind of place you could drink for 12 hours if you paced yourself right. Just make sure your day includes a frozen cherry limeade boosted with Jim Beam and a cheeseburger and ice cold Miller High Life for $8. 6214 Cameron Road. bustysbarandjukebox.com. 

The Cavalier

The great Dog & Duck Pub, which lasted about 25 years by the Texas State Capitol, felt like a fish out of water during its brief run on Webberville Road, but Chadwick Leger and Rachelle Fox’s Cavalier rode in to make sure the neighborhood stayed fueled and fed. It’s rare to find natural wine at a bar that scratches your whiskey itch, but the Cavalier does a bit of everything, including powerful frozen daiquiris. Their food menu features some of the best versions of bar staples, burgers and wings, and the Cavalier’s brunch menu shows the bar’s New Orleans influences in dishes like fried chicken and beignets. 2400 Webberville Road. thecavalieratx.com. 

De Nada Cantina

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The front of the menu reads “Tacos y más.” Mucho más, indeed. While you’re likely hitting this East Austin spot for barbacoa, fish tacos, old school crispy beef and a bowl of queso in the afternoon, by the time Fred Flintstone slides down the dinosaur’s tale, De Nada is more cantina than taqueria. Mezcal has been having an extended moment, but De Nada stays true to its love for tequila, which makes up about 70% of the bottles here. Some of the best margaritas in town, including a killer frozen mango with a spiced salt rim, keep the party going strong and late. 4715 E. Cesar Chavez St. denadacantina.com.

Holiday

Everybody takes a holiday in their own way.  Maybe you’re the type who likes to sit at a bar alone sipping a martini and making small talk with the bartender while on vacation; or maybe outside with a plate of anchovies and a glass or sparkling rosé is your jam; even better, what about a table covered with sticky ribs and chicken liver mousse from chef Peter Klein, and keep the whiskey cocktails made with Cynar, cacao and coffee coming. Whatever your approach, this spot from John DiCicco and former Olamaie beverage director Erin Ashford has you covered. 5020 E. Seventh St. holidayon7th.com. 

Hopfields

This charming, campus-area haunt defies classification. Yes, they make one of the best burgers in town. But you might also run into a bowl of French onion soup or a plate of escargot dumplings, which, if the Camembert cheese on the burger didn’t tip you off, will alert you to the French influence at this bar that features a quality-rich tap wall that is the stuff of beer nerd’s dreams. Every philosophy grad student should have a timeless bar-restaurant like Hopfields a few blocks from his university. 3110 Guadalupe St. #400. hopfieldsaustin.com. 

Péché

Some people might have looked at you like you had a fleur-de-lis growing out of your head if you told them in 2008 that Rob Pate was opening a bar specializing in absinthe. Pate was one of the first bar owners in Austin to pay respect to craft cocktails, and especially those popular in New Orleans. The Warehouse District bar has weathered the hurricane of change downtown and has been serving up craft cocktails, absinthe and intimate New Orleans-y vibes ever since. Accompanying all that booze are French dishes like bouillabaisse, chicken liver pâté, foie gras and grilled lamb. 208 W. Fourth St. pecheaustin.com. 

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Uptown Sports Club

Maybe you come into this impeccably designed destination for a wedge salad and some oysters at noon on a Wednesday. The place probably feels like a pretty chill restaurant. Or, maybe you dip in at 9 p.m. on a Saturday and start taking down the Willett over a big cube while eyeing, but avoiding, the cheeseburger, and Uptown starts throwing off pretty serious New Orleans bar energy. And, there’s always the Friday lunch, that leads to the happy hour, that escalates to a steak dinner and stumbles into a late-night ramble while ’70s soul spins on vinyl, and then you know you’ve got the perfect hybrid of a restaurant and bar. Whatever you’re in the mood for, this restaurant-bar from Aaron Franklin and company that looks 60 years old but opened in 2023, probably has what you’re looking for. 1200 E. Sixth St. uptownsports.club.

Wine Bars

LoLo

Few places feel more like the Brooklyn of 15 years ago than this natural wine bar and bottle shop. And that’s a good thing. It’s OK to admit New York is actually better at some things than we are. In this case it means a minimalist space that could double as a black box art gallery, a hyper knowledgeable staff that can walk you through the ever-changing list of 500+ bottles, hip DJ programming, a solid outdoor hang, and regular food activations by some of the city’s best chefs and cultish pop ups. They opened a few weeks before the pandemic, and we’re all better for them having ridden it out. 1504 E Sixth St. lolowine.com. 

Neighborhood Vintner 

All marble and brass, this Westlake wine bar looks like a millionaire’s chef kitchen at a mansion in, well, Westlake. Despite the high-end finishes and almost intimidating number of labels (about 1,000, with bottles stretching from floor to ceiling on two sides of the room), there’s no pretense to the smart and convivial staff here, led by general manager Krista Church, former wine director at Jeffrey’s. But, if you do feel the need to flex, you can bypass the bottles in the $20s for a $10,000 collector’s piece. 3663 Bee Caves Road. neighborhoodvintner.com. 

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Wink Wine Bar

The array of colorful portraits that stare down on guests from the walls of Wink Wine Bar include the visages of everyone from Alice Waters to Stevie Ray Vaughan. Those two represent the heart of the chef-driven Wink: an adherence to seasonal ingredients and the spirit of Old Austin. Pull a stool up to the wine bar by yourself and you won’t feel alone long. Either the person next to you or the bartender (if not owners Mark Paul and Stewart Scruggs) will engage you in conversation immediately, and you’ll feel like you’ve been a regular for years.

Paul and Scruggs opened Wink a few months before September 11, 2001 and Paul remembers that what started out as a quiet and somber night soon hummed with communal spirit. 

“Every single table was talking to everybody else,” Paul said. “What you have to understand about what we do here is when the curtain goes up, we’re throwing a dinner party, and everybody is a guest.” 

Wink Wine Bar serves up the same spirit, along with a bar menu that includes a slider with Brie and caramelized onion that could make a case for being the first famous slider in Austin. 1014 N. Lamar Blvd. winkrestaurant.com.

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BARS AT LIVE MUSIC VENUES

You’ll find some of Austin’s best bars inside the city’s countless music venues. I didn’t include those in my Top 40 because I consider them primarily music venues (a category worthy of its own list and written by our music writer), but these are my favorite bars inside live music clubs: 

Broken Spoke, C-Boy’s, Carousel Lounge, Continental Club and Gallery, Elephant Room, Far Out Lounge, Hole in the Wall, Hotel Vegas, Mohawk, Sagebrush, Sam’s Town Point, Skylark Lounge and White Horse.





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Austin, TX

Documentary on the fight against a bat-killing plague flies into Austin

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Documentary on the fight against a bat-killing plague flies into Austin


Director Kristin Tièche says the seed for her new documentary, The Invisible Mammal, was planted back in 1999, when she was a film student in upstate New York.

“I was sitting at this pub on campus, and I looked up and the sky was just filled with bats,” said Tieche, a native Californian who had never seen a bat before.

“I just thought it was the coolest thing ever,” she said.

These days, such a sight is all but impossible to behold in New York and many other states. A deadly disease called white-nose syndrome is to blame.

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The Invisible Mammal follows a team of researchers as they set out to protect bats from the disease, which has emptied entire caves and roosting spots once teaming with life. It’s being screened Tuesday night at AFS Cinema and will be followed by a Q&A.

White-nose syndrome is caused by an invasive fungus found in Europe, likely brought to America on the clothes of a visitor who came to see American bats up close. It kills by starving hibernating bats.

The disease causes bats to “wake up too often during winter and they burn up their fat reserves and die before spring,” said Winifred Frick, chief scientist at Bat Conservation International.

First detected in New York state in 2006, the disease steadily spread across the continent, inflicting catastrophic damage on bat colonies in the Northeast, mid-Atlantic and Midwest. In some parts of the U.S. and Canada, white-nose has wiped out over 90% of bat populations. While the disease exists in Texas, it has not proved as destructive so far.

When it appeared in California in 2019, Tièche thought back to that night decades before when she saw her first bat flight.

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“I knew at that moment that it was time to launch this film project,” she said.

Thousands of bats pour out of Bracken Cave, on the outskirts of San Antonio. The cave is home to the world’s largest known bat colony.

The result is a nonnarrated documentary that follows researchers and conservationists across the country, as they protect bats and study ways to battle white-nose syndrome.

Its primary focus is Frick and the team of scientists behind the Fat Bat Project, an initiative started in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula that aims to keep bats well fed around their winter hibernation.

“The idea was could we help bats get fat in the fall and also help them recover their body condition in the spring?” Frick said. “Because we had research that showed that the bats that were surviving tended to be fatter at the start of hibernation.”

Tièche said it was not until she arrived in Michigan to shoot that she realized the team of scientists working on the Fat Bat Project was comprised entirely of women.

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“I knew at that point that I also was going to tell the story of women in science,” she said.

White-nose exists in Texas, but the colonies of Mexican free-tailed bats so celebrated in the Hill Country are at lower risk of death. That’s largely because they do not hibernate in the same way some other species do, and insect meals are available in Central Texas deeper into the winter months.

Still, Austin’s Congress Avenue bat bridge makes an appearance in the documentary. The film also opens and closes with immersive scenes — filmed by Austin wildlife cinematographer Skip Hobbie — of bats flying out of the Bracken Cave Preserve, home to the world’s largest bat colony.

Bats swirl in the air in front of the Frost Bank Tower after emerging from under the Congress Avenue bridge.

Courtesy of Kristin Tièchei

Bats swirl in the air in front of the Frost Bank Tower after emerging from under the Congress Avenue bridge.

“I told him [Hobbie] I was hoping for people to fall in love with bats when they watch,” Tièche said. “You protect what you love.”

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White-nose syndrome continues to decimate bats as it spreads, but there’s reason for cautious optimism. Some species that were nearly wiped out in the Northeastern states are beginning to show modest recovery, Frick said, though it is not fully clear why.

She said the Fat Bat Project, which has expanded across the Northeast and into Texas, is also showing promise as one tool of many that could stave off total population collapse in some areas.

The Invisible Mammal is screening at 6:30 p.m., Tuesday, July 14, at AFS Cinema. It will be followed by a Q&A with filmmaker Kristin Tièche, producer Matthew Podolsky, cinematographer Skip Hobbie and Winifred Frick of Bat Conservation International.





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Hines snags Downtown Austin office high-rise for $733 per sf

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Hines snags Downtown Austin office high-rise for 3 per sf


Brandywine Realty Trust sold 405 Colorado Street in Downtown Austin for $151 million. 

Jerry Sweeney, Brandywine’s CEO, discussed how the company was looking to offload somewhere between $250 million and $300 million of its portfolio earlier this year, according to the Austin Business Journal. Earlier this year, the building was billed as 100 percent leased. Houston-based Hines announced that its real estate assets investment arm, Hines Global Income Trust, purchased the building in a statement published Monday. The sale price was disclosed in a Securities and Exchange Commission filing. 

The Class-AA office property was completed in 2021, and features 206,000 square feet of office space across 25 stories. Hines paid around $733 per square foot for the building. Tenants at the building include JP Morgan Chase, Bain & Company and AllianceBernstein. Hines Global reports that as of May 2026, it controlled $6.4 billion in gross asset value. The statement from Hines is explicit in their reasoning for acquiring the property: Alfonso Mark, Hines’ global co-head of investment management said in the statement that the company believes that fully leased trophy office buildings are driving recovery in the United States’ office market.

Philadelphia-based Brandywine will still maintain a notable presence in Austin. The Uptown ATX development close to Austin’s second downtown, The Domain, is still receiving a $31 million facelift that’s expected to complete by the end of 2027. Last year, Brandywine stole headlines by snagging Nvidia as a tenant. The six-story, 172,000-square-foot building is getting a shiny new lobby to go with other new amenities. Last year, Brandywine sold Quarry Lake II and Four Barton Skyway, according to the outlet. Quarry Lake II’s 120,600 square feet of office space went to Brick Row Holdings, and Four Barton Skyway went to an unknown buyer. 

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In the same announcement, Hines confirmed that it had also purchased Wicker Park Commons in Chicago. 

— Hunter Cooke

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Apollo Global Management's Marc Rowan

Private capital giant Apollo selects Austin as second HQ





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The Filthy Reality Inside Austin’s First Influencer Building

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The Filthy Reality Inside Austin’s First Influencer Building


They came for the red-light therapy room and the yoga studio overlooking downtown Austin’s Lady Bird Lake. They came for the in-house pilates, the concierge, the cold plunges, the swanky lounges and coworking spaces, and the first floor coffee shop that sells $14 bottles of organic juice. 

They came to rub shoulders with TikTok-famous fitness influencers, finance bros, and University of Texas football players living large on the kind of name, image, and likeness (NIL) money that turns nineteen-year-olds into millionaires. But mostly, they came for the bragging rights, the chance to proclaim residence inside Austin’s first influencer building, a glassy, 48-story sky palace that provides significant rental discounts to influencers in exchange for social media promotion. Paseo––which opened in November––is not merely a residential building on Rainey Street, surrounded by bars and drunken bachelorette parties, with a $45,000-a-month penthouse on top. It’s also a branded experience, with its own hashtags and a steady stream of lifestyle videos from influencers who live there—one of whom recently went viral on X for touting his “sober Saturday”—as well as many of their followers who aspire to move in. As the building’s website puts it: “This is where life flows your way.”

But at the luxury building’s eleventh-floor indoor dog park, the only thing flowing in recent months has been an excrement-laced stream of urine, one that has become a sanitation nightmare and a social media fiasco. The foul-smelling river begins beneath a turfed dog area covered in feces and poop bags before making its way into the parking garage and eventually an elevator bank, where it forms a slippery mustard-colored pool that, residents say, poses a danger to humans and dogs alike. To make matters worse, the dog park lacked barriers separating animals from vehicles driving through the garage (barriers are currently being built). The park is also set against a concrete wall with openings more than a hundred feet off the ground. In a building nearly devoid of children but packed full of dogs (Paseo allows two pets per unit), it isn’t hard to imagine an exuberant pup jumping to its death while its owner watches in horror. 

The situation worsened when images and first-person accounts of the disaster spread on TikTok, leading many to begin referring to the building as “the Piss-eo.” Almost overnight, the high-rise’s proximity to digital virality, the thing that had bolstered its reputation over many months, threatened to destroy it even faster. “There’s only one thing that can come from a bunch of divas with a camera and collective millions of eyeballs on them, and that is drama,” as one woman, a TikTok user who manages influencers for a living, put it. “And the lowest-hanging fruit for that drama is your building. Welcome to bad PR.”

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The “bad PR” already has real-world implications. Since April, the City of Austin has received three complaints about conditions at Paseo and has an open code-compliance case related to the sanitation concerns, according to Stephanie Sanchez, a spokeswoman for Austin Development Services. “In order to issue a notice of violation, inspectors must visually confirm unsanitary conditions, and our team has reached out to the property to arrange access for an inspection and is continuing to follow up,” Sanchez said. 

I was curious about the reality behind Paseo’s glossy digital facade and what it revealed about our growing inability to distinguish reality from social media’s “fun house mirror” effect, the algorithmic warping of our sense of what is normative.  

Until recently, “collab houses,” group living spaces where aspiring influencers (usually teenagers) amass to create social media content, were relegated to residential mansions in cities like Los Angeles, Las Vegas, and Miami. The idea of turning a residential building full of adults thousands of miles from Los Angeles into some variation of a collab house struck me as another bizarre example of the real world bending, ever more theatrically, to the will of the digital one. Or maybe, I thought, I was just getting old. 

Traditionally, real estate developers marketing to high-end customers treat things like square footage, location, and luxury finishes as a building’s primary selling points. But from the start, LV Collective, the Austin-based real estate development firm behind Paseo’s creation, sold the idea that a renter is granted access to an exclusive, preexisting community experience, one measured by “energy per square foot,” according to a “case study” provided by LV Collective. More Silicon Valley–themed blueprint than case study, the document breaks down how the Austin tower became a socially engineered “proof of concept” and “one of the most talked-about buildings in the U.S.” It’s not about “how much space a building has,” the document notes, “but how much life it holds.”

Unlike with other ready-made communities, such as storied fraternities or country clubs with existing legacies, Paseo’s developers realized they’d need to create their select community from scratch, using what might best be described as the science of vibes. The vibe-optimization quest began with the recruitment of several dozen lifestyle, wellness, and fitness creators. Their job was to live inside Paseo and turn their daily lives inside the building––from coffee runs to gym sessions to cold plunges––into content not only designed to look authentic but also accentuated by the building’s rich, textured sensory environments, all of which were designed to be Instagrammable. 

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The content was meant to look organic, and, not surprisingly, the building’s small army of promoters do not disclose that their posts are, at their core, a form of paid marketing. “This isn’t a traditional influencer campaign,” the case study says. “Creators like Ken Eurich are brought into the community early to showcase it forming in real time, giving Paseo a first-person authenticity that advertising can’t manufacture.” The influencer content was further bolstered by “#PaseoTok,” an endless stream of social media posts that form, in the somewhat totalitarian language of LV Collective’s case study, a kind of “cultural programming.”

The result: Since October, Paseo has received over 123 million views across Instagram and TikTok and $7 million in creator-driven media value, according to LV Collective. The firm credits the influencer-themed strategy with ensuring that just under half of the building was leased in the first ninety days since opening and up to 70 percent within six months. 

Images provided to Texas Monthly by Paseo residents reveal a building battling sanitation challenges, including a dog park that went viral for leaking large amounts of pet waste inside the building. Courtesy of anonymous resident
closeup photo of several dog poop bags
Paseo residents complained for months about pet waste, including piles of poop bags, amassing at the building’s indoor dog park. Courtesy of anonymous resident

At the same time renters were rushing to move into the building and influencers were touting its glamour on TikTok, Paseo’s management was already struggling to contain the pet waste on the eleventh floor. In February, the building’s management sent an email to residents promising to remodel the dog park the next month. Delays followed, and more “drainage improvements” were required over the following months, according to subsequent communications obtained by Texas Monthly. “We truly understand how important amenities are and sincerely appreciate your patience as we work to complete them with quality and care,” the building’s management wrote in a March 19 missive. 

The dog park’s viral moment arrived in mid-May and can be traced back to a temporary resident named Elizabeth Swenson, who was apartment sitting for a friend when she encountered the eleventh-floor mess. Until then, Swenson said she’d largely enjoyed her stay in the building, both because of the friendly encounters with other residents and the access to the coffee shop on the first floor. Though she doesn’t consider herself an influencer (she doesn’t get paid for her posts), Swenson, a stylish 31-year-old who routinely posts about mental health, wellness, and preparing for law school, has an online presence that suggests she could be one. Her TikTok has more than 31,000 followers, and her candid first-person takes routinely rack up thousands of views. 

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She decided to post about the Paseo sanitation issue on TikTok because she couldn’t believe what she was encountering each time she set foot on the eleventh floor. Her first video about the “Austin influencer tower,” a close-up freeze-frame of her disturbed face with text describing the “yellow river” in the building, was viewed more than two million times. Her next, which included video evidence to back up her claims, was viewed more than half a million times. Weeks later, Swenson was still in shock. “The second I opened the door onto the eleventh floor and stepped onto the little mat for wiping your feet, it was soaked in pee,” she said, noting that the waste was frequently tracked into elevators by people and dogs alike. “I kept thinking, ‘If they’re dealing with fecal matter and urine in this manner, what else do you do with the rest of the building in terms of hygiene? If there was mold, would they care?’ ”

From a public health standpoint, an unsanitary dog park can have serious repercussions. Dog parks with contaminated soil or turf can become breeding grounds for parasites (like giardia, roundworm, and hookworm) and bacteria (like those that cause leptospirosis, which is transmissible to humans and pets). 

In the world of social media, extreme exposure is, of course, a double-edged sword. When the dog park first went viral, TikTok users began tagging Eurich and other well-known Paseo influencers, accusing some of covering up the sordid truth about their residence. David Kanne, the founder and CEO of LV Collective, admitted during a phone interview that the building’s social media narrative has “taken on a life of its own.” Faced with the online backlash and a growing number of frustrated residents, Kanne said LV Collective has decided to assume day-to-day management of the building from Greystar, one of the nation’s largest property development and management companies. But the entire episode, he maintains, is little more than a sewage-themed growing pain. “Every building has challenges,” Kanne said. “Ours has such a large microphone that you hear about it more often. And the cool thing is, we now hear those criticisms and we just go, ‘Okay, how do we fix it? How do we make it better?’ ”

But for Swenson, and for some women who live in the building, the dog park also raised a safety issue—one, they said, that was lost on many online male commenters who dismissively asked why dog owners don’t just take their pets outside to relieve themselves. Swenson, who works in the service industry as she prepares for law school, said she often comes home after 2 a.m. Sometimes Rainey Street is packed with rowdy groups of drunk men; other times it’s a ghost town. Either way, trekking in the dark to find a suitable place for her pooch to pee, behind a building or closer to the dimly lit trails around Lady Bird Lake, felt risky. “This area is known for having a bunch of murders and disappearances,” she said, referring to the alleged Rainey Street Ripper. “God forbid it’s just you and your Chihuahua out there in the middle of the night.”

In the wake of the dog-park debacle, it wasn’t hard to find someone to sneak me into the ivory tower. Plenty of Paseo’s residents were frustrated by the urine issue, among others, and a few of them were willing to talk, as long as I didn’t use their names. The rumor in the building in recent months was that the residence’s management had begun monitoring an internal message board accessible via the building’s app, where residents could voice complaints about issues inside Paseo. 

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When critical comments began being deleted by management, some residents began to feel like the building’s culture had turned oppressive and they no longer had an outlet to voice complaints. LV Collective told Texas Monthly the issue had been addressed and the building manager in question, a Greystar employee, had been removed. Meanwhile, residents had become alarmed by reports that––due to high concierge turnover and security lapses––an unhoused man had been able to waltz into the building, allegedly penetrating the  twelfth-floor “wellness area” with saunas and cold plunges, the closest thing the residential temple has to an innermost sacred chamber.     

To avoid suspicion, my Paseo deep throat met me not in a shadowy parking garage but at a grassy roundabout where his dog could relieve itself several blocks from the building. He looked the part: an exceptionally fit man, mildly tattooed but clean-cut, in his mid-thirties who’d moved to Austin to work in tech. He’d been drawn to Paseo because of the notion that with all of the tower’s amenities, which include a Mediterranean restaurant on the twelfth floor and the ability to have his groceries delivered by the concierge, he’d never really need to leave the building. But here he was, he grumbled, forced to walk several blocks away to find a patch of grass. This inconvenience was due to urinegate, he said, which was not only disgusting but also reflective of a series of problems that were at odds with the promotional videos being produced by the building’s influencers. 

Almost as soon as he and his partner moved into Paseo, where they pay around $4,500 in rent each month, they met residents whose glass shower doors shattered when they closed them. In their own shower, along with those of other neighbors, water leaked through the glass door and onto the bathroom floor, leaving slippery puddles on the tile floor (it was later fixed). Perhaps more dangerously, the couple said, their balcony door has no mechanism for holding it in place once it’s been opened, which allows the door to be slammed against the building and shattered by a strong gust of wind (something that has happened to other residents). “And there have been multiple occasions of the high-rise windows just randomly cracking,” the tech worker said. “I saw a residence where the window to access the balcony was made up entirely of cracked glass, like it was about to fall off the building.”

Inside, he continued, many residents have been disturbed by the so-called cardboard rooms, designated for residents to discard boxes, filling instead with rotting trash and food waste that remains for weeks at a time. Images shared with Texas Monthly showed trash bags dumped on the ground alongside orange peels, old running shoes, empty toothpaste dispensers, and hair-removal waxing strips. So pungent was the trash odor, he said, that the smell was discernible from inside the couple’s apartment. In another building, bad smells might be overlooked, but Paseo was supposed to be different. “Everyone here expects perfection,” the tech worker said, noting that he and his partner pay several hundred dollars in amenity and other fees each month. “We’re in a super luxury building. It’s been advertised as ‘Hey, we’re going to be a hundred percent perfect,’ so now you got to deliver.”

Despite the amenity fee, the tech worker said, many residents have reported finding hairs in the cold plunges. When I visited the cold-plunge room, I witnessed water flecked with mysterious residue and floating clumps of matted hair. I wasn’t the only one unwilling to take a dip. At one point, a resident told me she blamed one of the building’s hot tubs for turning her hair and swimsuit green, a potential result of excess copper in the chlorinated water. “What if my bathing suit was $1,500?” said the woman, who asked not to be identified for fear of retaliation from the building’s management. “People have expensive stuff in their hair, and women, when they get their hair done, it’s sometimes $600 or even more.”

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My tour culminated on the eleventh floor, where the dog-park disorder was still unfolding despite having been highlighted on TikTok weeks earlier. The dog park sat on an elevated platform, and multiple streams of urine, some of them three or four feet wide, seeped from underneath. Gravity carried them downhill, covering large portions of the garage with a hazardous sheen. Despite fans twirling overhead, the pungent odor was as unavoidable as the stickiness beneath my feet. Photos taken over the previous months showed an even more formidable biohazard, with waste streaked across the ground and poop bags spilling out of a trash can. “It’s so disgusting that dog owners aren’t even taking their dogs there,” my guide said. “And by the way, the residents have been telling management this over and over again. You would think that a building pulling in this much money each month would take the problem more seriously.” 

Real estate developers are fond of talking about bringing “community” to Rainey Street. It’s discussed like a precious commodity being imported into the neighborhood for the first time. What they often fail to acknowledge is that before Rainey Street became synonymous with wealthy transplants, barhopping partiers, and an alleged serial killer run amok, it was for decades one of Austin’s most tightly knit communities. That was still true in 1995, when Brigid Shea and her husband moved into a cramped, one-bedroom, one-bath home on the street, lined with charming historic homes dating back to the late nineteenth century, and started a family. 

It felt even more true after her son got a little older and was unofficially adopted by the Solis family down the street, the same one that had thirteen kids and turned their backyard into a “pachanga for the whole neighborhood,” as Shea put it, every weekend. “It felt like we were living in Cannery Row,” Shea said, referring to the John Steinbeck novel about the gritty charm of a Depression-era Monterey, California, neighborhood lined with sardine canneries. “It was just a really rich, interesting mix of working-class people and musicians and artists and Hispanic families with deep ties to the area.”

The local residents eventually decided to allow the city to rezone Rainey Street, giving many families a chance to cash out as the area urbanized. But they did so after years of discussions and with a unanimous stipulation, Shea said: that any change in zoning include requirements for new high-rises to set aside a percentage of the units for affordable housing. Eventually, she said, that was rescinded. “Eveybody was in agreement about this,” said Shea, whose local activism would eventually propel her to her current role as a Travis County commissioner. “We didn’t want Rainey to become another neighborhood for wealthy people.” 





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