The pretzel at Otto's Ice House is one of its standout food items.The pretzel at Otto’s Ice House is one of its standout food items. Credit: Ron Bechtol

From its first appearances in the 1830s, the South Texas ice house evolved from a place to buy block ice to stock the family cooler to a kind of early convenience store selling milk, eggs and butter. 

The addition of beer to the mix changed things substantially, encouraging people to hang around, mostly outdoors — eventually, perhaps, with a jukebox playing ranchera music or Western swing. In time, ice, milk and butter made their exit, leaving just the suds and the sense of community. 

There are still a few examples in San Antonio paying homage to the historical model — Dakota East Side Icehouse and the Friendly Spot among them — and the city also has more than a few beer gardens less consciously doing so. Meanwhile, a new phenomenon has arisen: places calling themselves ice houses whose focus foregrounds food over beer. 

With its $26 asada nachos, Otto’s Ice House is one such place.

At Otto’s, which opened this spring at the Pearl, the beer list isn’t encyclopedic. Apart from the small draft selection, it contains only one true San Antonio brew, and much of what it serves is in cans, perhaps the better for serving in convivial buckets. 

Even so, some convivial stein-clinking might also have been good, given Otto’s location and its naming in honor of the former brewery’s founder, Otto Koehler.

Beer is here, but it’s playing sidekick.

On the menu, San Antonio’s brewing history is perhaps best represented by the German soft pretzel. This is a more complex recipe than I imagined, involving barley malt syrup, a bath in a lye solution and, of course beer. 

Otto’s version emerges a burnished, deep mahogany spangled with crunchy salt crystals, and it’s a winner, especially dunked in the accompanying “pretzel mustard.” But where grainy is good in the mustard department, it’s perhaps less so with the “house beer cheese,” which proved stiff and unnecessarily salty given the crunchy crystals on the pretzel itself.

Otto’s offers another German food staple, and also a good beer buddy, in the form of its Homemade Bratwurst. This is a sausage that can be stuffed many ways, one of which is pure pork bolstered by an array of warm spices such as coriander, ginger and nutmeg.

Otto’s came across as beefier, less fragrantly spicy and denser than many. It wouldn’t be on my best wurst list. Along with the bock-braised onions, it was also served warm at best, not helping its case. An excellent side of bacony borracho beans pointed in another ethnic direction — and more effectively. 

During the ice house age, roaming chicharron vendors once plied West Side streets, hawking their wares. Appropriately, chicharrones make three appearances on Otto’s menu: solo with white cheddar “dust” and as an alternative to tortilla chips with both the Cantina Queso and the made-to-order guacamole. 

The mound of crisp and convoluted pork skins which arrives is substantially more than needed for the modest serving of chunky guacamole — which in any case was in need of lime (wedge thoughtfully provided) and salt (you’ll have to ask). 

To pay even more direct attention to local food history, consider Otto’s San Antonio Chili. It’s surprising that, in the city which can legitimately claim credit for inventing the fiery stew, there are so few really good examples. 

Otto’s homage is a decent start but lacks any of the complexity that might be given by using a blend of chiles for both depth and zing, maybe some masa for binding, and, because why not, beer. If any of those ingredients were there, I missed them, but give Otto’s points for keeping the tradition alive.

If asked to name the most traditional Texas dessert, odds are pecan pie would be high on the list. San Antonio was once a giant in the pecan industry too. 

Enter the Goode Company Brazos Bottom Pecan Pie with its crown of flawless pecans and filling that didn’t come across too sweet by half. The problem here is the third, essential part of the equation: the crust. Far from the flaky ideal, it was dense and sturdy. No ribbons here.

When it comes to ice houses, it’s not just about beer and food, of course. The feel of the the place can count as much if not more. 

In Otto’s interior, historical décor of heads and horns, beer memorabilia and the odd armadillo could be any Texas roadhouse despite a Pearl bent. However, a vestigial walk-in cooler may not hold ice, but it does keep kegs for the bar.

Come more hospitable weather, the exterior experience should be more authentically ice house. A covered porch shelters serious picnic tables. More tables shaded by trees and umbrellas dot the “yard,” which also boasts a separate bar. 

Drink it all in, history chaser only a plus.

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