Three little pigs went to Texas.

To eat barbecue. And Tex-Mex. And chicken-fried steak. And whatever looked good for dessert.

OK, we didn’t go just to eat. We wanted to escape Boston for a long weekend, so my wife, teenage daughter and I flew down in February, even if it meant missing spring in Texas, when the countryside is awash in wildflowers, bluebonnets in particular. Air fares were reasonable (about $250 round trip) and a direct flight from Logan got us to Dallas-Fort Worth in less than four hours.

WEDNESDAY: Not long after checking into our hotel in Fort Worth’s Stockyards area, where the era when cattle was king is recalled in museums, tourist attractions and daily livestock demonstrations, we were sitting outdoors munching Dirty Love Burgers — burgers topped with bacon and a quail egg! — at the Love Shack, a no-frills outpost owned by chef Tim Love, whose fancy Lonesome Dove restaurant around the corner serves the likes of kangaroo carpaccio and elk sausage sliders.

THURSDAY: When at Esperanza’s, a bakery and restaurant, you want breakfast Mexican-style: migas (scrambled eggs with onions, cheese, chicken and chili peppers) and chilaquiles (scrambled eggs with strips of fried corn tortilla and cheese). Scrumptious. That fortified us for a visit to Fort Worth’s cultural district, where we visited the splendid Kimbell Art Museum (free admission) and, to our eyes, the even more enthralling Modern Art Museum of Fort Worth.

We reluctantly skipped the Amon Carter Museum and its collection of cowboy art in order to head south toward Hill Country, the fabled area between Austin and Dallas some 150 miles south. We stopped for lunch at Babe’s, a highly regarded local chain. The decor at each branch is different. At Babe’s in Burleson, the unexpected theme was “fairy tale at night,” which was a bit like dining in the Evil Queen’s castle in “Snow White” with great fried chicken, which is served family-style along with biscuits and bowls of mashed potatoes, green beans and cream gravy. If KFC gets a 4 on a scale of 1 to 10, give Babe’s shatteringly crisp bird a 9.

Hill Country, truth be told, did not live up to its billing, at least not at first. We cruised by former President Lyndon Baines Johnson’s ranch, now a National Historic Park, but just kept driving in order to get to Buzzie’s BBQ in Kerrville before closing time. But Buzzie’s — rated one of the 50 best barbecue joints in the Lone Star State by Texas Monthly, didn’t deliver a chow epiphany but bland brisket and frankfurter-like sausage in a charmless cafeteria setting. Thankfully, knockout pork ribs saved the meal.

FRIDAY: Heading to San Antonio, we took the not-quite-direct route (Route 16 through Medina) and it paid off with — finally — gorgeous Hill Country scenery: actual hills, rocky outcroppings, charming ranches and Texas-sized vistas. We stopped off in Banderas, the self-proclaimed “Cowboy Capital of the World,” to shop at the funky old general store before heading toward Boerne (another German town) for lunch at the Po Po Family Restaurant. Here I tried another Texas specialty, chicken-fried steak: a piece of beef pounded flat, breaded, deep-fried and served with cream gravy. Yes, it’s as filling as it sounds. And it wasn’t as notable as the decor, a couple thousand decorative plates filling every inch of wall space. A place your granny would love.

We arrived in San Antonio early enough to spend the afternoon visiting the Alamo and strolling along the famous River Walk, a network of paths that runs one story below the downtown streets. Much of it is jammed with restaurants, shops, hotels and tourists, but walk a while and the River Walk becomes a parklike urban oasis.

SATURDAY: Today was the day we were going to try a few of the reputed best barbecue places in Texas. After a morning at the excellent McNay modern art museum — worth a visit for its Spanish Colonial-style mansion and landscaped grounds alone — we drove to City Market in Luling. Once inside, you order by weight. I tried to restrain myself and got a half-pound of brisket, three ribs, one sausage link; a tasting sampler, wrapped and served on butcher paper with no utensils.

Three words: Best. Brisket. Ever. This was smoky, melt-in-your-mouth, pure beefy goodness. The ribs and sausage were swell, too. Problem was that we ate it all. A half-hour drive later we arrived in Lockhart, where there are three legendary ’Q venues. First we hit Smitty’s Market and found another line, this one out the door. We took a pass and moved on to Black’s, where the beautifully charred brisket called out to us. So we ordered some. We then proceeded to the most famous Lockhart landmark, Kreuz Market, a massive brick building on the outskirts of town. We looked but didn’t eat a thing. Call me wimpy, but there’s only so much meat I can eat.

SUNDAY: After an awesome breakfast at the Lake Austin Boulevard branch of Magnolia Cafe, a classic, 24-hour post-hippie eatery, we were stuffed again. Even a walking tour of the state capital and the University of Texas campus couldn’t stir our appetites. But before leaving town we had to hit another legendary joint, Threadgill’s, a roadhouse where the young Janis Joplin played before moving to San Francisco. A gospel brunch was in progress. Loved the music, barely touched my food. Blame it on Texas stomach overload.

Not that I regret it. But I’ll say this much. After the long drive north to Fort Worth to get our plane back to Boston, everyone agreed we needed a change-of-pace dinner. No barbecue. No Tex-Mex. No fried anything. Our last meal in Texas was sushi at the Blue Fish in Irving. Nowhere near an ocean, but darn good.