Biscuits, BBQ and Booze
OK, so it was a lofty itinerary and the booze got dissed. Que Shamo!
We began our day with a lovely run through the humidity in Music Valley . I hate running- as if most of you didn’t know that. But I figured that if I was going to put endless amounts of white flour and butter in my gob then I’d at least better run for a spell. We had quite the agenda today- most of which was out of the way to anywhere. As suggested, and aforementioned, we started the day at the Loveless Café. Upon entry I scanned the joint for the promised “catheads”- aghast, they were not catheads, but more like fluffy little bunny butts. I slowed my breathing and said “give ‘em a chance Marshall ”. We were seated and immediately brought the plate of biscuits with the homemade jams of blackberry, peach and strawberry.
OH MY GOD! I won’t say who had how many biscuits, but we consumed at least 12 of the little suckers. Then came pancakes and eggs and country ham. I prefer the 2 eggs over easy with country ham and red eye gravy with a side of grits (which are then poured over the eggs and devoured immediately), oh yeah, I also got a side of sorghum syrup for my last biscuit. Filled up and rolling out, we were greeted by Mizz Fay (see photo)- she IS the maker of the magic bisucuts and the jams and has been at loveless for a coons age. She even taught Martha how to make the magic biscuits- on TV and everythin’.
I know this sounds ludicrous to b-line for a BBQ stand right after that kind of breakfast-but we had to. So off to Carl’s Perfect Pig, which was even more out of the way. This roadside joint was situated across the street from a cemetery that dated to 1850. I guess they figured if anyone killed over from too much Q they could just drag ‘em across the street. We opted for take out- the logical choice considering we were all still in biscuit comas. But there was a line out the door by the time we gathered our bags and koozies and headed back to the coach.
I should mention at this point- that today, we are starting to feel the ramifications for being confined to 150 square feet- together. Not to mention all of the blackberry jam that got consumed at breakfast- too much sugar no makey the marshalls nicey. Dad was on the brink, mom was on the brink, I was-of course- being the resident smarty britches, and T got to play nicey nice. I asked T to take co-pilot so that I wouldn’t have to be told what to do- where she promptly fell asleep on me- thanks co- snoozer. Amazingly, I think we all realized what we were doing to make the situation uncomfortable, adjusted our ‘tudes and pressed on. On to Murfreesboro , home of the slick pig.
Dun dun dun…..
All of a sudden the little coach that could didn’t wanna play anymore. Seemed like something in the fuel line. I was at the wheel, losing power, at the corner of Broad and Church, can I make it through the busy intersection without puttering out, can I turn this corner, can I make it somewhere safe. Gotta love God- we pulled into this empty parking lot, in front of a building that used to be the former Al-Anon and AA headquarters for town, and behind that was AC Automotive. Two young mechanics strolled out to see if they could be of service. T and I realized that it was going to be awhile before anything was resolved, so we thought, “what the heck, we should just go pick up the Slick Pig Q”. Back the beetle off and away we went.
So we were temporarily stranded, we had BBQ and a nice bottle of Italian Bardonlino Rose- we broke out tables and chairs beside the rv- while the grease monkeys slaved over hot engines and enjoyed our first Q for the day.
I will have to say, Carl’s Perfect Pig, is THE BEST Q we have had to date. Pulled pork, moist and inviting- needs no sauce, no bun, no slaw. Ribs, best character in flavor and texture. We were all clammering for the last bits of Carls, and when it was gone, we mourned. I’m sorry we had to put The Slick Pig up against Carl’s, it just wasn’t fair. But had we not stopped in Murfreesboro (who can even say that name outloud a few times without wanting to throw something- who the hell named this town), we would have broken down on the highway and been on some other completely different journey.
BTW, as I’m typing this, we are broken down on the side of the highway- waiting for the wrecker man to rescue us. We thought we were all fixed up, ready to go. Confidently we put Pola behind the wheel and pushed off towards Huntsville . Oh shit, putter putter. So here we are…waiting to see what’s next.
I should also mention that the ‘Booze’ part of the itinerary was to tour the Jack Daniel’s distillery- which is in the middle of nowhere TN, but happened to be on our way out of Murfreesboro . We were titterpated with the thought of a ‘whiskey’ tour. But that will have to wait for another day, maybe tomorrow perhaps, since we’ll be here anyway, and it still lies between us and Alabama .
Good night.
