Nashville pie

From Memphis I drove to Nashville for a somewhat unexpected detour. I had a day between leaving the capital of dry rub BBQ and a promise of a very comfortable stay in Atlanta. Memphis to Atlanta isn't very far, a short day's drive, and my original plan was to stop over for the night in Birmingham which lies equidistant between the two places. After the music of Memphis, I was drawn to see what the other dominate music culture of the South was like. Nashville is obviously the home of Country (capital "C") and right now it seems to be having its cultural moment. Its also not that much of a detour from Atlanta and I thought, why not giving a try.

The city is having its cultural moment and is buzzing with the young, creative, anti-corporate set which is busy reviving small cities all over the country with startups and culture. Nashville, like Austin and Portland before it, seems to have captured this zeitgeist with its strong local identity, cheaper cost of living, decent weather and appetite for good food. The city even has its own eponymous TV show, a sort of Dallas for the Country set. (I seriously recommend you check it out - its trashy, its soapy, the music is great, and its a wonderful way to go through a couple of glasses of wine). It also seems amazing to me that such a small state as Tennessee is home to two very strong, sometimes related, but really distinct musical identities. With all that in mind I thought I should check out this Austin-of-the-South.

I stayed in a B&B in Historic Edgefield, a neighborhood full of beautiful craftsman style houses, and, as I discovered later, one of the hip newly rejuvenated neighborhoods. There aren't many other options for places to stay in this part of town (though I suspect that will change) but I came across the Big Bungalow B&B on accident. (Not on Trip Advisor - what? right?) and I recommend it. It's cozy, the rooms are clean, and the owner is friendly. The breakfast leaves a little to be desired but if you don't like it, go out and buy yourself a coffee and pastry from the myriad of cool places nearby (Bongo Java Cafe is a nice spot).

The next day, before leaving for Atlanta, I headed to an early lunch at Arnold's. It came highly recommended from a local I had met the night before. I could go on another tangent here and tell you how lovely the people in Nashville are but I think I'd be at it for an entire blog post. I'll only say that I'm not a huge fan of being chatted up, but in Nashville, and really most of the South that I've experienced, its inevitable and strangely wonderful. 

Arnold's was the culinary highlight of my entire trip in Tennessee. The food is good but, let's be clear, this isn't some esoterically cool joint, or a 3 star restaurant, it is simply a lovely, packed, friendly, delicious place to eat Southern food. The place is in the up and coming old warehouse district, just a little south of Downtown. Inside a brightly painted red and yellow one story building, are a bunch of cafeteria style tables and a buffet line. You stand and wait, grab a tray, and are then faced with a dizzying amount of southern dishes. Confusingly, your first choice is dessert. This may be the strangest way to organize a buffet or the smartest. If your first food item is a lovely display of different pies you can't help but grab one - I went for the Hot Pepper Chocolate Pie. It was a very good decision.

I was very clearly the only person in that line who hadn't eaten at Arnold's before and any hope I had of not being noticed was quickly dashed when the first person to serve me said loudly, "you aren't from here, are you?". He'd just spent 10 minutes shaking hands with the people in front of me and inquiring after their families, thanksgiving plans, weekends and here I was, a camera strapped to my chest and a very confused look on my face. That definitely made me blush, but after debating with the owners the best things to eat that day and why, a chat about Seattle and the greatness of Nashville, I sat down to enjoy the food piled high on my tray (including, importantly, pie).

The locals I sat next where told by the owner to be nice to me, they came to eat at Arnold's often, and after a nice chat, they recommended a wonderful coffee spot I could stop at on my way out of town. It was lovely but best of all they sold chocolate from a famous local chocolatier that I'd been looking for all day. If you go, make sure to get your hands on some Oliver and Sinclair Chocolate.

There is a lot more to do and see in Nashville than I had a chance to discover, so a visit back is definitely in the books. Next stop on the trip and this blog though, Atlanta and Asheville, NC.

Finally. I'm trying out a little experiment - click here if you want to access my google map of the sights, sounds, and tastes of Nashville that I shared above. 

A mural. A good sign a Millennial is nearby.

The pie in question.

Southern food from Arnold's

Memphis, or discovering dry rubbed BBQ

Music, food, and the Lorraine Motel were our priorities for our visit to Memphis. We start off with a half day before our drive out to Little Rock, and decided to fit in as much BBQ and Elvis as two people and 4 hours can. Our first stop was a visit to Sun Studio located in Memphis but a bit of a ways off from the center. The studios offer tours throughout the day, but they fill up easily. I recommend getting there early and buying tickets for your preferred time. We missed our first opportunity, so instead of waiting around we rushed back into the center for what I can only call Brunch BBQ. 

The place to eat BBQ is Rendezvous BBQ. It is, as I've come to learn is common for these kind of places, an institution and homage to BBQ. In Memphis, its dry rub or go home. None of the West of the Mississippi sauce dripping ribs, and I may be a convert. Charlotte and I managed to each clean off our own personal rack of ribs in 25 minutes, just in time to make it back to Sun Studios for our tour of the place Elvis was discovered.  

After our visits to Little Rock and Clarksdale we had one more day and night in Memphis. Our first stop on the road back was.... Graceland! (obviously). Elvis and Memphis, Memphis and Elvis. The two are forever linked and frankly a visit to this city without a stopover at Graceland is a travesty. This is probably the right time to let you know that we were very close to not doing the whole Graceland thing. I know, I know, but we are not huge Elvis fans. I never thought he was still alive and I grew up to Britney and Madonna shaking a whole lot more than just her hips on the Ed Sullivan show. All that said, it was worth a stop. We opted for the least expensive tour which was still upwards of $30. The one positive of traveling completely off season was the total lack of lines which I have heard can be a pain during the summer. An hour or so later and a tour of the house, I have gained a whole new appreciation for Elvis the phenomenon and cultural icon, and for the amazing decorative beauty of floor to ceiling green shag. 

Later that Monday evening we arrived back in town. The main drag of downtown Memphis, its Bourbon Street in effect, is Beale Street. We discovered that it is open and loud every day of the week, even on a chilly Monday night in October. We started off with a recommendation and two delicious matching bowls of Gumbo and Étouffée at The King's Palace. I tend to stir clear of place that combine food and tourist attractions, but I promise you this was good. Our recommendation came from a very chatty local (well all the locals are chatty in this part of the country, but you get my point). Our evening was spent sampling some of the weird and wonderful of an off-season evening on Beale Street. Even though the places where mostly empty and the night was chilly all the music was good. I guess this is Memphis after all, and though the culture is packaged and lit with neon lights, these people take their food and music seriously. 

Before leaving the next morning we walked down to the old warehouse district. 'Walk the Line' was filmed here and you can see the imprint of local hipsters doing their hipster thing. Before breakfast at the Arcade Diner (I recommend the sweet potato pancakes) we went to see The Lorraine Motel. This is the spot where MLK Jr. was shot and killed in April 1968. Though the National Museum of Civil Rights is closed, the balcony where MLK Jr. died is right in front of any visitor who stops by. The motel is on a slope, and the 2nd floor balcony is almost at eye level from where you stand. A powerful and sad reminder of the murder of arguably the most important American historical figure of the 20th century.

Memphis itself is still caught in the collapse of the manufacturing and cotton industries. The downtown is really a shell of a city but there are some tendrils of growth. You can see civic investment and the very modern wave of young creatives looking for cheap but inspiring places to live. The upside is that the destruction of old buildings for newer, but definitely less pleasing to the eye, modern ones has not been rampant as in other cities. Though the pyramid that sits on the banks of the Mississippi and overlooks the downtown is an eye sore. 

Memphis was the anchor of our trip to the Delta. The first night we stayed at the Holiday Inn in downtown Memphis, across from the much more expensive Peabody Hotel. The next morning we obviously went to see the ducks, and so should you. When we returned we stayed at the much cozier and more personal Talbot Heirs Guesthouse, and that was a treat (especially after the share cropper shacks at the Shack Up Inn). I would say go. Memphis is strangely enchanting. I has been a few weeks since my visit and I keep thinking about the BBQ and history of the place. 

Sun Studio

Charlotte and the most important meal of the trip

A shot of the inside of Graceland. Just a sample of the wonders of the house.

A view of the warehouse district in Memphis.

Home of the Blues, or getting spooked in the Delta

This year of travel hasn't quite stopped yet. I got home, went to Canada, and have now headed as far away from Seattle as one can get while staying in the lower 48, a detour to the South and the Mississippi Delta. 

Mural under work in Clarksdale.

This trip started as a visit to Little Rock to see a friend perform at the Arkansas Repertory Theatre. Little Rock holds little interest other than as the location of Central High (the first integrated high school) and part of the Clintons' origin story. To compensate we expanded the trip outwards from Arkansas to include the city of Memphis and a detour to Clarksdale, MS, home to the Delta Blues. 

All these places are part of the world where you can still smoke in bars, where people engage in conversation with you with disarming genuineness, where Kudzu is a real thing, and cotton is still a cash crop. Driving through the countryside, and stopping in odd little dinners and towns, this tiny slice of the South had the unmistakable aura of being of the now and somehow very removed from it all. 

In Little Rock, the Clinton library anchors a new revitalization effort in the center of town, but most of the downtown is a depressing mix of empty buildings, too-wide streets and little life. We did have drinks at the Flying Saucer, on (you guessed it) President Clinton Avenue. 

The next day we left sharpish and drove a couple of hours back east to the home of the blues, Clarksdale, MS. Clarksdale came to be because of, and during, the cotton boom, in a corner of the state famous for the fertility of the earth and the deep poverty of the people. Something about all that created the right mix for the birth of the Blues and a whole cohort of famous musicians. Artists that are associated with more northern cities, starting with Memphis but going all the way to Chicago and Detroit, have their roots in this tiny, flat, cotton-farmed corner of land on the east side of the Mississippi. 

This "crossroads of the blues" is a small, very ramshackle town clinging on for dear life to the new economy. Most surprising for a place with so much American cultural history is the very real destitution of the downtown. The two main streets, about 4 blocks of mid century buildings very en vogue in hipster cities are 90% derelict, and not because of the recent downturn. This town of some 20,000 people felt, on the grey foggy Sunday evening we arrived, sadly spooky and forgotten.

That enduring state of being forgotten has acted as a preservation agent for much of the town. Ranging from small shotgun shacks to the ruins of the Alcazar hotel where an 8 year old Ike Turner worked. Bisecting the town are abandoned rail tracks, overgrown and forgotten. The old train station has been turned into the Delta Blues museum, an homage not so much to the history of the blues as to the musicians who made the music. Muddy Waters' childhood home, taken from the nearby Hopson Plantation, sits reconstructed inside. 

We stayed at the Shack Up Inn, just a couple of miles down the road from Clarksdale center. The hotel is a series of old sharecropper cabins located on the old Hopson Plantation which have been barely brought up to modern standards.

The shacks are esoteric and on a cold gray day with low lying fog, pretty damn eerie. Some reviews accuse it of making nostalgia chic out of a hard part of American history, but for me the experience was a way to imagine how tough life must have been. The writing of past guests on the wall isn't a plus, but I could easily imagine a few friends, a hot evening, some cold beers and the place coming to life. The beds were comfortable and the shack we rented was clean if bare boned.

Before we headed out towards Memphis, we ate at Abe's BBQ, tasted delta tamales at Larry's Tamales and listen to a very pickled old blues man play his slide guitar with soul and booze and red lights at Red's, the only blues place open on a Sunday night in October.

Clarksdale was strange but even with the sadness of the place very evocative of a certain time and a particular slice of American culture. If you love the blues, want to see some of the real south and not the Bourbon Street version, then come and visit. Stay a night or two, but be prepared for the ghosts of a few sharecroppers to remind you of what has happened here. 

Next up Memphis! Graceland! more BBQ! 

Central High School - site of the first integrated high school. 

Cotton is king

Our shack at the Shack Up Inn