In East Waco, just off Elm Avenue, Brotherwell Brewing feels like a backyard that grew into a brewery. On a cool October afternoon, people gather at picnic tables while kids chase each other around a bald cypress, and Ghostface peers from a mural on the fence. Inside, the air smells of malt and hops, a foosball table clacks in the corner, and a Simple Minds song drifts through the speakers as the next batch of beer finds its balance behind glass tanks.

What Brotherwell makes isn’t just beer—it’s community. In a city that keeps reinventing itself, Brotherwell reminds Waco that not everything worthy of attention needs to be new; some things just need time.

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After midnight in Waco, most of the city hums in neutral. But at Las Trancas, people line up under glowing yellow bulbs to order tacos, burritos, and nachos in a cracked parking lot while a fan kicks napkins across folding tables and the smell of sizzling meat hangs in the air. Orders bounce in English and Spanish; a ranchera drifts from the radio as tripas, pastor, and lengua hit the grill.

A late-night taco run becomes a meditation on the quiet communion of the sleepless because every town needs one place where the lights stay on a little longer than they should—and in Waco, that place is Las Trancas.

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The Waco Downtown Farmers Market unfolds each Saturday morning on Bridge Street Plaza in East Waco—white tents in neat rows with plenty of coffee, local food, and sunlight bouncing off the new hotels nearby. Live music drifts from the stage beneath orange steel panels while kids toss beanbags and couples linger over cold brews. It looks like the picture of civic renewal—a city’s self-portrait in perfect morning light.

But the history here over the last 120 years includes other crowds gathered for reasons no one brags about. Sure, today’s buzzwords are “revitalization” and “rebirth,” but that alone doesn’t replace memory. It takes people showing up—year after year—trying to build something decent on ground that remembers.

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Pinewood sits under a giant post oak on Austin Avenue, two halves split by a courtyard—coffee on one side, beer on the other. Inside, sunlight slides across concrete and wood, grinders hum, and the day drifts from americanos to IPAs without missing a beat.

But the real story isn’t the drinks. It’s the parking lot across the street—a decade-long standoff that turned from rivalry into a rare act of cooperation. What began as a feud over asphalt ended with a patch of green and a quiet reminder that in Waco, peace costs what it costs.

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Garibaldi’s greets you with a storm door, not a glass façade. Inside, hand-lettered specials on neon poster board taped to a fridge advertise pozole and enchiladas beneath a silent TV. It feels more like stepping into a cousin’s kitchen than a restaurant.

The food matches the room: migas smothered in cheese, burritos wrapped in foil, beans and potatoes served without ceremony. In a city where downtown Mexican spots come and go with all the authenticity of theme-park restaurants, Garibaldi’s keeps its edge by being exactly what it is—unvarnished, generous, and true to its roots.

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Treasure City Flea Market has been a cornerstone of La Salle Avenue since 1985, but its story begins four decades earlier as the Circle Drive-In Theatre, where Robin Hood’s son once swashbuckled across a brand-new screen in Technicolor.

It’s a story of car-window speakers and X-rated double bills, pink Stratocaster knock-offs and Day of the Dead pinups—and a weekend mercado that still carries the pulse of “old” Waco, stubborn and alive beneath the shadow of its giant screen.

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Kitok’s has been feeding Waco since the mid-'70s, but it was the invention of its Oriental fries—a tangle of tempura-battered potatoes, onions, carrots, and parsley—that turned a neighborhood burger joint into a local legend.

It’s a story of burgers and bulgogi, soy sauce and ketchup, family kids doubling as waiters, and a restaurant that still embodies Waco’s weirdly wonderful mash-up identity.

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Visitors to Waco flock to the newest restaurants downtown, but the city’s real flavor lives further up 18th Street, in between tire shops, sketchy corner stores, and abandoned gas stations.

This week, Your Waco Weekend takes a trip to Dubl-R Burgers, a North Waco landmark since 1996, where handmade patties, Texas toothpicks, and a noisy cross-section of locals keep Old Waco alive.

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William Cowper Brann was Waco’s most notorious voice at the end of the 19th century—a journalist who built a national following by attacking politicians, preachers, and Baylor University itself. He had a gift for outrage, a talent for cruelty, and an uncanny ability to make enemies everywhere he went.

In this episode of Your Waco Weekend, we visit his grave in Oakwood Cemetery and trace the arc of his story, the scandal he couldn't let go of, and the street fight that ended his life. Brann’s story isn’t quaint local history—it’s a reminder of how dangerous words can be.

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Once upon a time, Waco turned into a demolition derby and called it a movie—but somehow nobody noticed for thirty-five years. Action U.S.A. is wall-to-wall fireballs, cars flying over school buses, and a Corvette tearing through Cameron Park like physics was just a rumor.

It’s dumb, loud, and absolutely glorious—the best love letter Waco ever mailed to Hollywood, postage due.

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