Category Archives: Tennessee

Chattanooga, Wings and Coffee, Too

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Downtown Chattanooga, Tennessee, is a seriously awesome place. I fell in love with it when I was young and my dad would drive the hour it took to get us there so we could eat at the Chattanooga Choo-Choo and then wander around the top of Lookout Mountain. Luckily, my middle brother and his family live there, so we still get to visit lots. And it’s still one of my favorite places. Chattanooga has done a stellar job of downtown renaissance and making itself into A Must-See Destination. Such as this Broad Street block that’s just up the street  from the Tennessee River and the Tennessee Aquarium. This block is home to Sticky Fingers Smokehouse, the barbecue restaurant-chain that three friends who first met as seventh-graders in Chattanooga started in 1992 in Charleston, S.C. My brother and I were there to pick up wings, pulled chicken and pulled pork for my nephew’s 12-year-old birthday party, and I have to say that Sticky Fingers’ wings rate right up there — meaty, juicy and just-right-hot.  I can see why my nephew requested Sticky Fingers for his birthday. (I think I’ll do the same, even though that means moving my birthday to a city four hours away. Worth it.) Another treasure on this block is Greyfriar’s Coffee and Tea Co., one of my brother’s top choices for coffee — and he knows coffee. And of course there’s more to Chattanooga than wings and coffee. You’ve got history, hiking, rock climbing, kayaking, shopping, music, art, more eating and more good times. Go check it out, and tell my brother I sent you.

Recycling

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We think we in the 21st century invented green living? Huh. We’ve got nothing on our parents’ generation. My folks, both born in 1934, each grew up with the Depression-era philosophy of “why buy when you can make do?” And they’re still following that directive. My mom saves plastic butter tubs and bread bags for leftovers, my dad turns paper over to print on the other side and they would never think of going out and buying tomato stakes. This is their backyard garden in Tennessee, and you can see that they definitely reuse and recycle — from the rusted metal fence posts to the strips torn from old cotton sheets to the outdoor artwork of flags decorating the iron headboard from a vintage bed. And they water the flourishing tomato and pepper plants with leftover ice. When the  ‘maters are ready to eat, my dad probably will put a salt shaker out there for the freshest possible eating. I just hope they share.

Lynchburg, Tennessee

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For years I have driven past Lynchburg, Tennessee — home of Jack Daniel’s Tennessee Whiskey — several times a month on the way to my hometown of Manchester, Tennessee. Lynchburg famously is the tiny little town that Jack built. It’s an old-fashioned town square tucked into the Tennessee hills and surrounded by all things Jack Daniel. So far, so good. The thing is, lately Husband and I have noticed that  every time we drive by, the square is full of motorcycles. It’s true. Apparently Lynchburg has become a motorcycle destination. And I want to know why. Also: How? I mean, what is it about Lynchburg that attracts so many bikers? And how does the word get out? Is it some sort of motorcycle flashmob? Simple coincidence? Inquiring minds … But motorcycles are not the only intriguing visitors to Lynchburg. On a recent walk around town, I spotted: 1) A stretch limo so long it took up practically one whole side of the square; 2) two guys with backpacks who talked like Bret and Jemaine from the Flight of the Concherds; 3) two barefoot guys literally running around taking digital camera shots of every building; 4) a young dreadlocked couple who wanted their picture taken with a sculpture of an elderly man playing checkers; and 5) a man with a Minnesota car tag who was asking the tourism-bureau volunteer about a route to Nashville that was both scenic and quick — and who argued with her when she told him it couldn’t be done. In Tennessee, you can be quick. Or you can be scenic. You have to choose — unless, maybe, you’re riding a motorcycle. Learn more about Lynchburg at http://www.lynchburgtn.com/ — y’all come!

Shopping

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I really don’t know much about men’s clothes. My husband buys his own and pretty much dresses himself without any help from me — that’s what getting married for the first time at age 47 does to you. Oh, he will occasionally ask fashion questions, but they’re usually along the lines of “Do you think you can sew this button back on?” and “Do I have any more black socks?” So I’m clueless about men’s style. But I’m easily impressed, and this gorgeous display of lavender and blue dress shirts and ties at Dillard’s in Murfreesboro, Tennessee, grabbed my attention this past week. I just wanted to touch all that soft and rich-looking fabric and play around with putting this shirt with that tie or maybe using that one over there. And I got a tiny bit jealous that men can wear what essentially are silky scarves every day. On the other hand, we women usually look better in a dress, so there you go.

Bonnaroo

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When you see all the photos from Bonnaroo Music and Arts Festival this weekend — the crowds of folks and tents and arm-swaying humanity — remember that this is what it looked like before the gates opened today. Bonnaroo home Manchester, Tennessee, also is my hometown. I was there earlier this week visiting my mom and dad and we drove out to look at the 700-acre site, just about four or five miles from my parents’ house. On one hand, it’s out in the country on one of those narrow winding two-lane rural roads that natives take at about 80 miles an hour and everybody else creeps along. On the other hand, Bonnaroo is only a few yards up a hill from an everyday residential neighborhood that in the course of normal events usually does not play host to the likes of Steve Martin and Dave Matthews. Except during Bonnaroo. Because then my normal and everyday Tennessee hometown goes suddenly crazy. But in a fun way. On the Tuesday night of our drive by, the muscley official Bonnaroo guys riding four-wheelers around to check out the generators and fences and all the million details of the Bonnaroo infrastructure — they’ve built a city there, people — far outnumbered the trickle of regular folks who were starting to congregate. And on our closeup view, I noticed that those who live adjacent to the Bonnaroo site adopt one of two strategies for the duration: They either 1) abandon all hope and rent their houses out to Bonnaroo people or 2) go all in and rent out their yard space to vendors, open their doors to anyone who needs a roof and join in the party. One enterprising woman set up an awning, tables, chairs and grill and declared it to be “Momaroo’s Kitchen.” Why not? This morning the long line of traffic from everywhere else made its way slowly but efficiently to the Bonnaroo gates, and the good times began. Learn more about Bonnaroo and follow along at http://www.bonnaroo.com/.

Pizza and Purses

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Old Venice Pizza Co. in Tupelo, Mississippi, has turned into one of our go-to places for a good and quick lunch. Dear Husband will say, “I’m thinking pizza,” and we’ll head on out to hit the pizza/hot food/salad bar buffet, washed down with draft Blue Moon — and grab a nice melty soft cookie on the way out. (Thank you to whoever puts the cookies on a tiered server up high, under the buffet’s warming lights. Genius!) Thumbs-up all the way around. But you know a restaurant’s ladies’ room is just as important as the menu and the service — to me, anyway. And Old Venice in Tupelo passes inspection. I especially like the way the graceful branches of the dried flower arrangement echoed the intricate swirls of the wall decor. Probably whoever figured out the warm-cookie thing took care of this detail, too. And usually I manage to keep myself out of the shot but I  wanted you to see my favorite purse. Younger Daughter gave it to me for Mother’s Day a couple of years ago, and I carry it practically every day from April through August. I love this purse! I can cram everything I need in it and it never gets full. It’s comfortable, and I get compliments on it all the time. In fact, one time in Mufreesboro, Tennessee, I left my husband to do some business while I wandered around the square, shopping and browsing trying to support the local economy. When he tried to follow me several minutes later, he correctly identified a store that seemed to be one I’d be interested in — who could resist those adorable sundresses in the window? — and went in inquiring about his wife. “Oh, she was the one with the cute green purse, right?” said the sales clerk. Right! Clean pretty bathrooms and cute green purses — what else does a woman need? Oh, yes — good pizza. Go to http://www.oldvenice.com/ to learn more.

Weddings

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I love weddings of couples who already have been there and done that and have no need to try to impress anybody. Such as the recent wedding of our friends Ted and Elayne, in Brentwood, Tennessee. It was simple and elegant and completely who they are, all at the same time. For the ceremony, family and friends gathered at Owen Chapel, on Franklin Road near Nashville — a 140-year-old brick church that was elegant and dignified all on its own without added frills. Everybody was joyful and relaxed, which is the only way to run a wedding, I think. Then we made our way over to their house — Elayne has lived there for years and Ted was moving in right after the wedding — for the outdoor reception, which was fantastic. We’d spent Wedding Eve in their kitchen, drinking wine and eating pizza and I was amazed at the couple’s calm — if I were having 65 people over to my house the next day I think I’d be bouncing off the walls. But Ted and Elayne are those kind of low-keyed folks who believe that everything will turn out OK, and they were right. It did. Even the threat of rain — which tends to make Nashvillians extra nervous these post-flood days — didn’t matter. We sat under a tent and talked and drank and dined on the fantastic reception menu that Ted had created: Bacon-wrapped shrimp, little sandwiches of Canadian bacon and fried green tomatoes, smoked salmon and bruschetta with excellent pesto were my favorites. And the cake! Oh, that cake!!! I’ve had some marvelous wedding cake at some great weddings, but I’m telling you this was the best. Ever. It was a rich and moist yellow buttercream and white-chocolate fondant and raspberry filling. It was gorgeous inside and out, and those flowers decorating it were rolled fondant. Beautiful! And dear husband and I had a part, too. We begged Ted to let us do something to help and feel useful, so our assignment on wedding day was to decorate their mailbox with balloons. Honestly, I was afraid that metallic lavender (OK, they actually are pink but the color theme was lavender so that’s what we’re calling it here) and white hearts might be a bit much, but Ted said it was “spectacular” and everybody said they looked good. Mainly, they said that when I asked them, but I’ll take it. So now I believe that Dear Husband and I could go into the mailbox-decorating business. Call us.

Yard Sales — and a Mystery!

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Okay, all y’all antiques detectives. I need help! As much as I love a good bargain and the thrill of the hunt, I’m not one to get all googly-eyed over yard sales. Some people are. Some people get up on Saturday morning while it’s still dark and gather their yard-sale tools (measuring tape, hand wipes, bottled water, coffee) and then set off to discover treasures. I only do that in extreme circumstances — such as when the bed-and-breakfast in Murfreesboro, Tennessee, where Dear Husband and I stayed after our wedding is cleaning out the linen closets and hosting a yard sale with profits benefiting the church next door where Dear Husband and I got married. Now, that is worth it. The folks who owned Byrn-Roberts Inn, a gorgeous 1903 house on Main Street just a block or so away from Murfreesboro’s downtown, had closed the inn several years ago and were simply living in the house as normal people. But apparently they decided they didn’t need dozens of water pitchers and hand towels after all and decided to declutter and help out Central Christian Church at the same time. My mom and Younger Daughter were all up for the adventure, and we planned so well that we got there even before the sale started. And we all scored. My mom, with her usual impeccable eye for gems among junk, made some great buys. And YD and I didn’t do so badly either. For less than $45, I bought a wicker towel rack, a metal wall mirror, a wine carrier I’m going to use for flowers or silverware, three adorable square glass flower vases, a restaurant-style ice bucket with tongs, a fun breads cookbook and some … I don’t know what you call them … cute things on metal stakes that you stick in your garden or landscaping — including an adorable metal ladybug for Capt. Adorable (he calls them “Grouchy B Bugs” from a favorite Eric Carle book). And then I also bought this stainless-steel Mystery Pitcher. It’s about 5 inches tall and 11 inches in diameter, with a brass-colored handle and hinge on the lid. I would guess it was for warm maple syrup or something else breakfast-in-a-quaint-Victorian-inn-like except for the holes in the lid near the spout area. I forgot to ask the inn’s owners what it was when I bought, so now I’m hoping y’all can help. Any ideas?

Nashville, Tennessee

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This is what downtown Nashville, Tennessee — one of my favorite places ever — normally looks like, with the Cumberland River in its proper place. But you know from news reports and Youtube what it looked like after a weekend of record rainfall. Freakin’ unbelieveable. Cleanup is starting as floodwaters that killed at least 20 people and caused an estimated hundreds of millions of dollars in damage in Middle Tennessee gradually begin to recede. We are so grateful that friends and family there suffered only fixable problems: ruined carpets, soggy furniture, flooded-out cars and power outages. By all accounts, cleanup is going to be a major challenge. Keep up with the latest news and find ways to help by at http://www.tennessean.com/, site of Nashville’s daily newspaper, the Tennessean.

And while you’re clicking around the Interwebs, I’d love for you to read my newspaper column from this past week at http://www.timesdaily.com/article/20100430/ARTICLES/4305004. It’s about a friend and local businesswoman, Marigail Mathis, who died a couple of weeks ago from cancer complications. I say she was a friend, but actually I never went to her house or ate lunch with her or saw a movie or any of the things you normally do with friends. Yet, she made me feel as if I were a friend. She made everybody she met feel that way — she was warm and generous and supportive and encouraging, all within a three-minute conversation standing in the middle of her clothing store. Marigail was one of those special folks you just feel happy to know. She’s already missed.

Tennessee

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It’s almost strawberry time here in the South, and I had a preview at the Tater Box in my hometown of Manchester, Tennessee, with this luscious piece of silky and sweet fresh strawberry pie. The Tater Box restaurant is in a former country store that stands at an intersection of two rural roads:  Fredonia and Hoodoo. It clearly used to be a bustling spot and today at mealtimes, it still is. You can order the meat-and-vegetable-plate special or get a tasty and delicious hamburger, hot dog. sliders or chicken or grilled bologna sandwich, with homemade desserts — the banana pudding is a crowd favorite — to reward yourself. The Tater Box folks also do catering, so they may be working on elegant wedding cakes and mouthwatering trays of appetizers while they’re dishing out your fried okra and fried squash. And don’t forget the fried pickles and the sweet-potato fries. Worried about that word, “fried”? Just do an extra mile on the treadmill and remember to take your Crestor, because it’s totally worth it. This is fried without greasy and crispy/crunchy without inch-thick batter — fried at its best. The Tater Box also serves breakfast, with everything you would imagine a Tennessee breakfast to be, and has music on Friday and Saturday nights and karaoke on Tuesday nights. Check it out yourself at http://www.taterboxcafe.com and especially read the fascinating history of this building, which has been a hub of its rural community for almost 100 years.