El Primo Productos Hispanos, Sevierville, TN

This is the fifth and final account of outstanding meals that Tamar and I enjoyed as we traveled across Tennessee during Thanksgiving week, 2008.

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After a rainy morning hiking in the Smoky Mountains in eastern Tennessee and debating whether to visit Dollywood (we declined because of the weather), Tam and I needed to eat something before hitting the road for our 9 hour drive back to Pittsburgh. Those of you lucky enough to have visited the area around Gatlinburg and Pigeon Forge, TN know that the main roads are packed with plenty of tackiness, kitsch, and Americana, and the dining options reflect the landscape.

For some reason, this area might also be the pancake capital of the country, because it seems like every other business is a pancake house. Indeed, a quick Internet search reveals ten dedicated pancake restaurants within four miles of each other in Pigeon Forge, and nine more a few miles away in Gatlinburg. I love a good pancake now and then, but 19 pancake shops on a single stretch of road? Can anyone explain this phenomenon to me?

Not in the mood for flapjacks, giant all you can eat buffets, or willing to settle for sub-par barbecue after the excellent meals we'd eaten earlier on our trip, we spotted a nondescript Mexican grocery store/restaurant and decided to check it out.


El Primo Productos Hispanos is more convenience store, green grocer, and butcher than restaurant, but a few long tables topped with hot sauces, bowls of dried chilies, diced onions, and cilantro in a corner of the store let us know that food was being served. Being the only English-speaking people in the establishment (including the cashier, other customers, and waiter), our ordering options were limited, especially since there was no printed menu.

The basic ordering protocol involved communicating a dish to eat and having the chef in back prepare it with ingredients off the shelf from the grocery. I presume they also had a few soups and stews simmering away if we had wanted a bowl of something warm as well. Sadly limited by our Spanish, we had them fry up some chorizo on some fresh tortillas, and it came served with lime and sliced avocado. Coca-cola from a glass bottle (bottled in Central America and made with cane sugar instead of corn syrup) was available from the grocery display case to wash down the simple plate.


It's hard to go wrong when something simple is prepared so well. Not anxious to hit the road, we relaxed for a while and watched some telenovelas from the store's satellite feed before perusing the aisles and deciding to do our week's worth of grocery shopping.

Great avocados, limes, tomatillos, chilies, and cebollitas were purchased and were turned into salsa and guacamole in our kitchen later that week. We were also amazed by the vast selection of Mi Costenita spices and herbs including therapeutic products for everything from blood sugar regulation to hemmorhoid control.


We added our dinner tab to our groceries, and could hardly believe how affordable everything was. A week's worth of produce, some snacks for the road, and dinner for two was well under $20. If I'm ever in the area, perhaps to visit Dollywood on a sunnier day, I'll be sure to stop back at El Primo and see what else the kitchen can throw together.


El Primo Productos Hispanos is located along the main road between the I-40 interstate and the tackiness of Dollywood and Gatlinburg at 725 The Great Smoky Mountains Parkway in Sevierville, TN.

Monell's, Nashville, TN

It's been a busy few months, and unfortunately I haven't had a chance to write in a while. While work has been hectic, this period was highlighted Tamar and I getting engaged in January! Did the mountains of pork and Mexican food that we've eaten together contribute to our love? Perhaps...

While it's been a while, I have a backlog of past meals photographed and ready to write about, and I also have upcoming trips to Minneapolis, Montreal, Chicago, and Europe in the summer to look forward to. I hope to post at least once a week for the foreseeable future.

This is the fourth of several accounts of outstanding meals that Tamar and I enjoyed as we traveled across Tennessee during Thanksgiving week, 2008.

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When we arrived at Monell's for breakfast on Sunday, it almost felt as if we were late to a neighbourhood block party. We walked through the crowded side garden to the rear entrance and put our names on the waiting list, which ended up being about 20 minutes long. The garden was filled with children running amok or playing on swing sets while their parents kept one eye on them, catching up on the past week's news. Family by family, they were eventually called in to the restaurant to be seated.

Eating at Monell's is a unique experience. The restaurant is on the ground floor of a converted home, and consists only of 4 tables for 10-12 diners each. The protocol is as follows: an entire table is cleared, and then the next 10 or so people waiting are seated at once, together. After our wait, we were led to a table in what used to be the house's dining room. Our breakfast companions were a diverse group consisting of a large African-American family to our right, and on our left, an Asian graduate student from Vanderbilt was taking his girlfriend and visiting mother out for a meal.

The table was initially set with a tray of sticky cinnamon rolls, orange juice, tea (both sweet and unsweet), and a bowl of homemade peach preserves. Table etiquette is briefly explained to us: all cellphones must be turned off, and when food is served, you should help yourself, and then pass the platter to your left. The meal is family-style, and everyone is to share from the same serving dish.

The first item to arrive was a giant baket of still-warm biscuits and accompanying gravy. The biscuits were easily the best I'd ever tasted. Impossibly light and fluffy, with a rich buttery flavour. While that first bite of biscuit is clearly imprinted in my memory, the rest of the meal was blurred by the dishes that seemed to constantly flow from the kitchen.

Stacks of pancakes, scrambled eggs, breakfast meats (bacon, sausages, fried ham), hashed browns, corn pudding, and cheese grits were all served and made their slow journey around the table. If I had only had the biscuits, corn pudding, and bacon, it would have stood tall with any meal I've ever had. The corn pudding may have been prepared as simply as just taking the very sweetest corn available, and cooking it until thick with a little cream. It was unbelievably delicious, and had a strong, pure, sweet taste.

Bacon from a plastic pouch at the supermarket can be fantastic; this bacon was beyond written description. It almost felt like there must be some Nashville folk hero equivalent to Paul Bunyan, and instead of a Blue Ox as a companion, he had a giant pig who had been sacrificed to feed us. I know that logically each piece wasn't actually as long as my forearm or 1/4" thick, but it felt that way. Thick, crispy, salty, smoked perfection.

Just when we'd settled into our meal and were starting to fill up, out came a wicker basket of skillet-fried chicken. I think Tam uttered a prayer of thanks under her breath, as fried chicken is always one of her guilty pleasures. She decided that the best way to enjoy it was to dip her chicken into the peach preserves, the sweet-salty combination reminding her of the chutneys of her fatherland. I know I ate my chicken with biscuits (probably my fifth or sixth biscuit by that point) but to be fair, I also ate my biscuits with corn pudding, with eggs, and with peach preserves. Did I mention that I liked the biscuits?

While this may be the only time that I include a post without pictures, taking any would have felt like I was intruding on a private moment. Passing food around the table to complete strangers, and debating the dishes in front of us gave a certain intimacy that I didn't want to violate by whipping out my digital camera.

A sad reality of the South apparent even on our week-long trip was that even in cities, there are still areas and institutions where you won’t see people of different races mixing. Monell’s thankfully shatters that world as people of all colors and creeds sit around a table and share a glorious meal with one another.

Monell's is located in the historic Germantown neighbourhood of Nashville, TN at 1235 6th Avenue North. Their Country Breakfast is served on Saturday from 8:30 AM - 1 PM, and on Sunday morning from 8:30 to 11. They also serve dinners, and you can see the daily menu on their website. All you can eat for $13 per person. You will not leave hungry.

Carl's Perfect Pig Bar B Que, White Bluff, TN

This is the third of several accounts of outstanding meals that we ate as Tamar and I traveled through Tennessee over Thanksgiving week, 2008.

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I guess it's natural that in the process of seeking out amazing new restaurants to write about, I'm going to make some mistakes. Lesson #1, learned when hunting for Carl's Perfect Pig, which is 30 minutes west of Nashville, Tennessee was to make sure to bring a good map. Unfortunately, we didn't bring a map at all, let alone a good one, and were relying on a printout of directions from the internet which for some reason had taken us away from main roads and had us winding through rural Tennessee. It was after dark, our stomachs were empty, street signs were sporadic, and once again, we were in a race against time. Carl's closed at 6 PM, we were nearing 5:30 PM, and, to make matters more stressful, we had tickets for Nashville's Grand Ole Opry for 7:30 that evening.

"Turn left to stay on Old Columbia Road," our directions instructed. But was that the hard left, or maybe the slight left up the hill? Should we wait until the railroad crossing?

"Turn right to stay on Old Columbia Road," we were told 2 miles later. But were we still on Old Columbia road? Had we made the correct turn in the first place? Was there anyone we could ask for directions? Weaker relationships have shattered under this kind of stress, but inspired by visions of smoked pork, we somehow made our way far enough north to hit Highway 70, and raced east until Carl's red awning beckoned in the distance. It was 5:50 PM, ten minutes before closing time, and any lingering tension in our car dissolved as we entered our destination.


We were quickly seated and didn't waste any time ordering. Seeking both to validate Carl's claim of perfection and wanting try out some Nashville area "Meat and Three" dining, we both opted for the Ribs and Three, a half slab each with our choice of three vegetable sides. Tam opted for the baked beans, slaw, and fried corn while I chose the squash casserole, turnip greens, and mac and cheese. We were asked if we wanted to try their new fried corn bread instead of the usual side of bread, and I doubt if there's a rational person who would refuse that offer.

We had barely settled in when mountains of food arrived at our table, and after hours on the road, it took all our will power to stop and snap a few photos before diving face first into our meal.


After one bite, Tam excitedly proclaimed the ribs to be the best she'd ever eaten, and it was hard to disagree. They had great smokiness, were tender and moist, and fell right off the bone. Unlike our Memphis ribs from a few days earlier, they were cooked with the sauce so that the flavours permeated the meat without overwhelming its pork essence or being overly sticky or saucy. The sugars in the sauce caramelized slightly, resulting in the slightest crispiness but without a speck of burned meat to be found.

The sides ranged from great to mind-blowing. Our favorites were the slaw and the squash casserole. The coleslaw was vinegar-based without a hint of mayo, was seasoned with mustard and celery seed, and was nothing short of phenomenal. The squash casserole consisted of circular disks of yellow zucchini, stewed until meltingly soft in a creamy orange cheese sauce. It was velvety smooth, salty, and fantastic. The fried corn bread turned out to be hot, freshly-griddled cornmeal pancakes, and were perfect for mopping up Tam's baked beans.


We washed down our meal with bottomless glasses of sweet tea. If there is one thing that northerners need to learn how to do right, tea could be it. It was so perfect that we begged our waitress to fill up take-out cups with us for the road, which she happily did. Styrofoam cups in hand, we promised to return. Even if we had to drive the full ten hours from Pittsburgh just for the meal, it would be worth it.

Dinner did cause us to miss most of the first act that night at the Opry, but I don't think either one of us regretted our choice for one moment (especially since we still caught Little Jimmy Dickens, saw Charlie Daniels tear up his fiddle on The Devil Went Down to Georgia, and Hootie himself lay down his number one country hit.) While Carl's claim of perfection is pretty bold, it was impossible for either of us to dispute. Especially when washed down with glasses of sweet tea and country music. I doubt Tennessee evenings can get any better.


Carl's Perfect Pig is located at 4992 US Highway 70 E in White Bluff, TN. Google Maps will give you terrible instructions on getting there from the west, so call (615) 797-4020 for information or bring a good road map. Show up hungry. Really hungry.

Gus's World Famous Fried Chicken, Memphis, TN

This is the second of several accounts of outstanding meals that were eaten as Tamar and I traveled through Tennessee over Thanksgiving week, 2008.

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I could probably write 5000 words on what makes Gus's World Famous Fried Chicken so great.

Or I could just tell you that this is the best fried chicken that you will ever put in your mouth. And they serve beer in 40 oz bottles. These last two sentences would have made Gus's the perfect place for a romantic Thanksgiving dinner, but alas, it was closed for the holiday and we had to settle for lunch the next day.


Gus's World Famous Fried Chicken is located at 310 S Front Street in Memphis, TN; Call (901) 527-4877‎ and plan a visit.

And if you still aren't hungry, watch this.

The Bar-B-Q Shop, Memphis, TN

This is the first of several accounts of outstanding meals that were eaten as Tamar and I traveled through Tennessee over Thanksgiving week, 2008.

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It was the Wednesday afternoon before Thanksgiving and we were driving south through Kentucky on our way to Memphis, Tennessee. Since I moved to Pittsburgh, this is a trip I’ve wanted to take for a number of reasons. This year, I finally had the chance and the perfect travel companion. Our itinerary was busy, but food was one of the primary considerations in our route planning. We were to arrive in Memphis on Wednesday night, spend Thanksgiving there, visit Graceland on Friday morning, and then get back on the road and head east towards Nashville.

Glancing at our dashboard clock and making some quick calculations, it appeared as though we were going to arrive in Memphis around 9 PM. After consulting my prepared list of targeted eats and making a few phone calls, only one place stayed open that late, The Bar-B-Q Shop, widely reputed to be one of the best ribs joints in Memphis, and thus by association, anywhere in the world. But they were closing at 9, so it was going to be a close call. Visions of succulent ribs and barbecue sauce motivated me as I accelerated faster towards our goal.

But time was not on our side. We were resigned that we might miss out on the evening’s dinner, and because of all restaurants being closed on the next day's holiday, would also be deprived of getting our fingers dirty until Friday. Depressed, we were starting to consider other options. In Dyersburg, TN, we debated pulling over at Bad Boys BBQ, whose storefront marquee promised a free gallon of sweet tea with every “Butt Job” order. Although it’s unlikely that I’ll ever legally have another chance to walk into an establishment and say “one butt job, please”, we drove on, still dreaming of The Bar-B-Q Shop.

However, after pulling out her cell phone, Tam made a discovery. While we started the day in northern Kentucky in the eastern time zone, somewhere on our 8 hour drive, we must have crossed a boundary and gained an hour! A Thanksgiving miracle! Our car’s dashboard clock was now an hour fast, and we had plenty of time to reach our dinner destination.


We eventually made it to Memphis and pulled into a parking spot across from The Bar-B-Q Shop with almost exactly an hour to spare before closing. Starving and thirsty, we were seated at a table by the window and took about five seconds to decide on our order: ribs (we ordered the rib dinner for two) and plenty of cold beer. Wanting to savor the spectrum of Memphis rib styles, we opted for half wet, half dry ribs. The dinner includes a full rack, a generous stack of Texas toast, and two servings of beans and slaw.


The dry ribs were simple yet superb. The dry rub was not overpowering, and consisted mostly of salt, sugar, and paprika. The sugar caramelized slightly on the outside of the slab, giving the ribs a nice, solid crust. Mother Chorizo liked it so much, she was licking it off the ribs before eating. The subtle aromas from the rub let the deep pork flavour of the ribs be in the limelight.

Equally good were the wet ribs. The porkiness was masked with a generous coating of tomato and vinegar-based sauce, which was nicely spiced to give it a little heat and complexity. The meat was so tender that eventually I started pulling it off the bone by hand and licking my fingers clean after each bite. Divine.


The beans were the best we ate on our trip. They were studded with bits of smoky pork and finely diced dill pickle to give it an amazing depth of flavour. They were perfect for mopping up with the thick, buttery toast.


It had been a long day on the road, but after this feast, every mile seemed worthwhile. We washed our meal down with a couple of glasses of Killian’s on tap, and in the spirit of the holiday, gave thanks to the invention of time zones which allowed us to enjoy this meal.

The Bar-B-Q Shop is located at 1782 Madison Ave, Memphis, TN‎; Call (901) 272-1277‎ for information.

You can order their sauces and rubs online at http://www.dancingpigs.com/.