If I had to live in Tennessee

I could live in Nashville . It’s colorful and young. It’s the old south embracing new conventions and new ideas- maybe music is a sufficient vehicle to move forward in.

The whole day was ours to do with what we pleased. Terry insisted on making us breakfast- twist the arm. So we had delicious shrimp omelets with sausage- AS IF we haven’t consumed enough of the piggy- but we had been neglecting the sausage. Then, for morning dessert we had crepes with fresh peaches. Lawdy, it’s gonna be a good day.

I did research on some little neighborhoods in Nashville- I didn’t want to just hang out with the tourists. So on our way into Q stop #1 for the day, we drove to an area known as East Nashville-Five Points. This is one of those neighborhoods that is “up and coming”- with great little shops, cozy restaurants and earthy markets. Some places to note: Bongo Java East (coffee house that roasts it’s beans on site, organic and free trade- and if you don’t care about that , the coffee IS good). Around the corner and up the street is a VW bus turned weenie stand- “I dream of Weenie”- the only full service weenery in Nashville . Noteworthy new market that just opened up is called “The Turnip Truck”- which is a family joke in which my father has to always remind me that he did not fall off of one. Across the street from the market in an old bank (circa 1950s) is this groovy little wine store- Woodland Wine Merchant- Good design and good wine is mighty fine! The lovely couple in the shop gave us some alternatives for the Q- so we followed the locals advice and exchanged one pit for another.

We were also reminded that Hatch Print Show was in Nashville- and not 100 steps from where we had dinner last night.Eeeekkkk, I would have shot myself had I missed this. So we had to drop by there on our way back through town. Hatch is an old letterpress print shop that still prints, mainly, entertainment posters. Acuff, Patsy Cline, Willie, Cash- if they were playing in TN, then Hatch most likely printed the posters. We picked up a few prints and I daydreamed about how I could come back as an intern.

Something else to note about BBQ joints round here. They close early. That either means 3 o’clock or 7 o’clock- sometimes 6, sometimes 8, but that’s early don’t cha think.

Wine couple (I didn’t catch their names- sorry), suggested we go to a little dive joint- Hog Heaven- behind the McDonalds near Vanderbilt U. Sure enough, shack with screened porch, painted pig on the building was servin up some grub. Let me just interject by saying, I gave everyone an out on lunch- we didn’t have to do BBQ- mainly because the whining has begun- but they keep going back- they keep ordering the combo plates- as if the legacy of this trip depends on their perseverance. Anyway, we ordered the usual ribs, pork, slaw- but this time we ordered their specialty, which is smoked turkey with cheese and this special white sauce. We also opted for the blackberry cobbler. Apparently, KFC approached them last year to buy the recipe for this sauce- they said “nah”- which led me to believe that was a lie. Short and sweet of it, the turkey gig could have been done better- better bun, melt your cheese, keep your turkey tender- but the sauce was pretty good. The ribs were also very good. I’m telling ya when pork humbly falls off the bone in such a subservient way, who can resist.

After lunch, mom and T walked over to the park where there is a replica of the Parthenon. Dad and I walked over to Sweetwater, the dive bar attached to Hog Heaven. We figured we’d get more info from a barstool than a brochure. Luckily, happy hour starts at 2 o’clock at the Sweetwater, and the local flavor sitting at the bar were handy dandy pools of local knowledge. Nick and Steve appeared to be PBR drinkin worthless rednecks- but judging by appearance is so rude. We found out where all the recording studios were around town, the good honky tonk bars, good museums vs. bad ones, and then the nugget came- “Oh, you have to go to Loveless Café for breakfast- you gonna be here in the morning?”. I’m thinking, we don’t need to drive 20 miles out of our way for breakfast. Then he said the magic word- the only prefix that can go in front of biscuit that would make me want to drive endlessly for breakfast- “cathead”- ah yeah. For those of you who don’t know what a cathead biscuit is, well it’s flat- mostly crust- and it’s as big round as a cat’s head- perfect vehicle for homemade jam and country ham. The other bonus to driving this far out of the way is that the other BBQ joint that was recommended is way the heck out there to- two birds- all before noon.

One other note: What the hell goes on with that part of my brain when I get in the south that says “go ahead eat whatever you want- it’s good, it’s all good”- that part of the brain that suddenly craves powdered gems and moon pies, Krystal burgers and cold beer, boiled peanuts and fried okra. I just don’t know, but it’s wrong.

Family nugget for the day: Mom bought one of those cute little swirly flag-a-ma-jiggies to put outside the RV- in case you can’t find your way back from your walk you can locate your motor home with a cute kitchy little colorful fluttering butterfly. Anyway, she was putting it together and dad was contemplating how he was going to get this stake in the ground. And he says…wait for it….

“you know that grounds gonna be harder than a weddin’ peter”

That's funny, I can't make this shit up.
Yeah, we’ve been laughing as much as we’ve been eating.

I have to go get the powdered sugar off my hands now, it’s cocktail hour.

Bye now!