Tag Archives: Dining

The Cullman Comet

15 Oct

This weekend, my friends and I drove to Starkville, Mississippi to watch the University of Tennessee play Mississippi State University in football. The best way to get there from here is to go through Alabama. Yes, Mississippi borders Tennessee but going through another bordering state is the fastest route. Weird, I know.

It is also the best route because it allows us to stop in Cullman, Alabama and eat at the All Steak Restaurant, home of the world-famous orange marmalade rolls.

Passion on a Plate

We got a lot of looks as we walked in because we were wearing the colors of our team, and that’s not something seen very often in Alabama. An elderly man wearing a crimson University of Alabama shirt took special notice and walked to our table when he was finished eating. He was a nice man who asked us where we were from and what we thought about our team. After a few minutes, we offered him a seat.

He introduced himself as Tom Drake, and we spent the lunch hearing the story of his life – one of the most interesting stories I have ever heard.

Mr. Drake was born in Cullman County and found his way from there to Chattanooga, where he played football and wrestled in college. After college, he was drafted by the Pittsburgh Steelers, but the army drafted him, as well. In those days, the federal government was more powerful that the NFL, so off to the army he went.

After being honorably discharged, Mr. Drake was hired by Bear Bryant to coach wrestling and football for the Crimson Tide. When we asked who was the best player he ever coached, he did not hesitate to say Joe Willie Namath. However, coaching was not his calling, and Mr. Drake went to law school.

Bear Bryant and Joe Willie Namath

While still enrolled in school, he won a seat in the state legislature and continued to be elected for 32 years.  During that time, Mr. Drake served as Speaker of the House and worked closely with infamous governor, George Wallace.

In Birmingham, they love the governor.

Now, that is an event filled life, but there was more. Mr. Drake spent his spare time as a professional wrestler. Fighting under the name “The Cullman Comet”, Mr. Drake fought against some of the most famous wrestlers of the era. He was later inducted into the International Wrestlers Hall of Fame.

The Cullman Comet

With such a wide array of talents and experiences, Mr. Drake made a perfect contestant for What’s My Line?, and he appeared on that show in the 1970s.

We barely had time to ask questions as he told story after story. However, his most important story was about his wife. They did everything together, but she died a year ago from brain cancer. He said that he still hasn’t recovered from the loss, and I got the feeling that he just needed someone to talk to. He needed to talk about his life and his memories, and I felt honored that he picked three strangers who were wearing the wrong colors.

Mr. Drake said that he is writing a book, and I hope that he finishes it. The book would chronicle a man’s life but also a piece of our history. I was reminded during lunch that history can be found anywhere. It can be found in old documents, but it can also be found in a conversation at the All Steak Restaurant in Cullman, Alabama.

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Come On In – The Steak is Fine

14 Aug

When we left Glacier National Park, we were entering a new, adventurous phase of the trip. We weren’t pulling a Lewis and Clark and going into an unknown territory. We weren’t roughing it on some mountain trail. For the first time, we were operating without hotel reservations. Being road trip veterans, we knew that it would work as long as we got a room early enough in the day, and, as we came upon Missoula, we had no worries.

My brother pulled up to a hotel, and I went in to get a room. No vacancies. We hit another hotel. No vacancies. The third one was the same.

Brother: What’s going on in town to cause this?

Me: They say it is just summer travelers.

Brother: Is there anything available? The next town is over 100 miles away.

Me: They all said that there are rooms at the C’Mon Inn.

This sent a collective moan through the car. The C’Mon Inn, really? I am sure my dad and brother had the same thoughts I did. Rooms rented by the hour. Vibrating beds. Free porn on the TV. We had a choice – drive over 100 miles or check it out. We checked it out. Guess what. The C’Mon Inn was the best interstate hotel I have ever stayed in. The rooms were great, with each one opening into a huge lobby with all kinds of activities. It was good enough that we called ahead to the C’Mon Inn in Bozeman for the next night.

The next day was relatively uneventful. We toured the Old Montana Prison in Deer Lodge.

He got his man.

After that, we made a couple of stops of personal and historical import but nothing worth blogging about.

The real treat of the day came after we checked in at the C’Mon Inn of Bozeman and went to the Museum of the Rockies. I just couldn’t figure out why it had a huge Napoleon Bonaparte exhibit.

The dinosaur that ate Napoleon.

What was that treat? A trip off Broadway in Manhattan, Montana. No joke. There was a Broadway through the middle of town. We had heard about a legendary restaurant that would have the best steak we had ever tasted. As we went in and out of Manhattan, we began to wonder if we were heading in the right direction. However, it wasn’t too long before we came upon The Land of Magic.

Mickey Mouse has nothing on this Magic Kingdom.

What’s magical about it? A spell came over the me, and I made a 20 ounce ribeye (the smallest one they have) melt in my mouth and disappear in no time. It made my brother eat a piece of meat without covering it in Worcestershire Sauce. It made my youngest nephew put the ketchup away for a few bites. Simply, it was the best steak any of us have ever had.

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It Takes a Village

20 Jul

There is a neighborhood in Nashville that sits between Vanderbilt University and Belmont University. It is called Hillsboro Village and is home to a collection of eclectic stores, restaurants and hangout spots. It is also one of my favorite parts of the city and the place that I spent last evening.

The choices of Hillsboro Village are plentiful, and I have tried most of them. Painting ceramics at All Fired Up is something cool. Bosco’s is a great place to grab an appetizer and a drink. There is also Fido’s, an old pet shop that has been turned into a coffee shop. Perhaps, the most famous spot in the Village is The Pancake Pantry, a breakfast mecca where Nashvillians stand in the waiting line as a rite of passage.

My girlfriend and I didn’t hit any of those places last night because we were headed to the best thing about the neighborhood, the Belcourt Theater.

It is not large and decadent like Atlanta’s Fox Theater, but it has an interesting history. Opened in 1925, the theater showed silent films and became the temporary home of the Grand Ole Opry. Later, it became a playhouse and concert hall. Today, it is a great place to see independent films and concerts. Big Bonus! Alcohol is sold at the same concession stand where you can buy Goober’s.

We saw Moonrise Kingdom, a Wes Anderson film with Bruce Willis, Edward Norton, Bill Murray, Tilda Swinton and Frances McDormand. However, the stars were the two kids who the story revolved around. In case someone wants to see the movie, I will not write about the story, but it was a great film. I always like seeing big stars in small movies because they seem to be doing it for love rather than money.

After the movie, we walked across the street to Taps, a restaurant in an old house.

I wanted to sit on the front porch and enjoy the evening but found the tables filled. At first, I was disappointed to sit inside, but it turned into a treat that only Nashville can provide. On the small stage, if it was even a stage, songwriters took turns playing their songs. Now, songwriters are not great singers, but, when they start playing stuff that you recognize, you listen anyway. The last songwriter had songs that had been recorded by Kenny Rogers, The Nitty Gritty Dirt Band and George Strait. Here was a successful songwriter singing his songs in a small restaurant on a side street. As I said, only in Nashville.

What’s more is that he was doing it in a glorified hamburger joint. But, it was a heck of a hamburger. Taps specializes in stuffed hamburgers, and mine was stuffed with habanero and jalapeno peppers. I believe that it was the best hamburger I’ve ever eaten.

Oh, another thing that may only happen in Nashville. My table had Kris Kristofferson’s face painted on it. I tweeted that fact, and a former student and fellow blogger wanted me to link a picture. Alas, I forgot to take one.

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The Power of Tequila

11 Jun

Last night, I met some folks for dinner at Longhorn Steakhouse, the same place where I left my credit card a while back. Due to it being a weekend, there was a bit of a wait, and we found ourselves sitting in the waiting area with other people wanting to eat. After getting a little antsy, I offered to go to the bar and order libations for the group. It turns out that only two people, including me, wanted to partake, so I sauntered to the bar and returned with my Jack and Coke (which is also the name of a great song) and a Sangria.

I sat the Sangria on a table while its owner went to the restroom, and a little old lady asked me what was in it. The conversation continued with me replying:

“I’m not sure. I know it has wine and fruit, but I really don’t know what else.”

“It looks good, but I need to know what liquor is in it.”

“Well ma’am, all I am sure about is the wine.”

“Does it have tequila?”

“I don’t…”

“I stay away from tequila. They say it makes your clothes fall off.”

At this point, her husband gets up, and she asks where he is going.

“I’m going to get you a shot of tequila.”

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Pueblos, Pottery and Captain Vla

22 May

I have returned from the sojourn into New Mexico with fellow faculty and a class full of students. Fun was had by all, and it would be impossible to cover everything we did in a blog post. With that in mind, I will provide a brief synopsis by describing my favorite activities from each day. Hopefully, this will provide an entertaining glimpse into our adventures.

Day 1 – The beginning of a trip is always the best part of the first day. The students are anticipating the places that they have yet to see, and the teachers are anticipating the return to an interesting part of the country.

Day 2 – We can’t drive vans to New Mexico in one day, so we check out some things along the way. My favorite part of the second day is driving through Hereford, Texas, the citizen-proclaimed “Beef Capital of the World”. I don’t know if that is true, but there are definitely more cows in Hereford than there are people. Holding pens line the highway and railroad as thousands of head of cattle wait to be shipped to the plates of America. The students could only discern the smell, but I find the beef industry, both its past and present, interesting.

Day 3 – We made it to Santa Fe, our ultimate destination, later this day, but we had one stop along the way where I had the chance to talk about some history where that history took place. Billy the Kid is buried in Fort Sumner, New Mexico. Well, most people think he is buried there. Conspiracy folks believe he survived instead of being killed by Pat Garrett. Anyway, I was able to tell the students about Billy the Kid next to his grave.

Day 4 – Our plans to hike Chaco Canyon were rained out, and our leader had to develop a day full of activities on the fly. We went to the Santa Fe plaza, but my favorite part of the day was spent at the Shidoni Gallery. The building and surrounding grounds are full of metal artwork that has been forged at the on-site foundry. It is interesting to see what people consider art and the prices they are willing to pay for it.

Day 5 – On this day, we went to a few places that we had never taken students before. The Very Large Array, or VLA, was the best. This is a series of giant satellite dishes used to study the far reaches of space. I don’t have a good picture of these, but if you have seen Contact with Jodie Foster, then you have seen the VLA.

It was cool to walk around them, but the real fun was on the periphery. On the way, we drove through sunshine, rain and hail. On the way back, we drove through snow. This is the first time we have seen precipitation in New Mexico – much less three different kinds. Also, one of our students, with my help, began calling himself Captain Vla. He imagined himself a superhero who could fly through space, powered by the satellite dish that emerges from his butt. His only weakness would be his limitation to travel by rail while on Earth, just like the VLA dishes. He even had a theme song – Super hearing! Super sight! He can travel through space at the speed of light! (For those readers who know the students who went, I will give you one guess who turned himself in Captain Vla.)

Day 6 – We visited my favorite place on the entire trip, the Acoma Pueblo. The oldest continually inhabited place in the United States, Acoma is located on top of a mesa and has a history of survival from the elements and European invaders. Native American docents take groups on a tour through their pueblo and their culture. Along the way, tourists can buy pottery from local artisans. One of our teachers, who shall remain nameless, buys pottery from the same lady every time we go. He also gets a hug.

Day 7 – We always eat well in New Mexico, and this trip was no different. The New Mexican cuisine is wonderful, especially the sopapillas that are always served for dessert. On the seventh day, we ate at Rancho de Chimayo, one of the great restaurants of the area, but dining was not the only enjoyment. There is a pottery shop inside, and two of the faculty members on the trip are addicted to buying Pueblo pottery. It so happens that the shop had a pot that they were lusting after. As they bickered back and forth about which one was going to purchase the $1,400 piece of pottery, the third teacher, not me, stepped in and said he would buy it. They both stood there with their mouths hanging open.

Day 8 – This was an easy day with little driving and little expended energy. Believe me when I say that everyone was ready for it. We were also ready to visit Madrid, New Mexico, an old ghost town that was resettled by flower children in the early 1970s. It is like going back in time to a place where peace, love and other things were still possible. The guys found a blonde in the ice cream parlor/art gallery that they wanted to find peace with. I found the first person to move to Madrid in 1973 and had a discussion about his life.

Mel Johnson was a dean at the Art Institute of Chicago and gave that up for a life in Madrid. In the following years, other people followed him until the town was filled with artisans and free-thinkers. Before I left his studio, I had found an interesting story and bought a painting.

Day 9 – Once again,  I was able to talk about history where it actually took place. We visited Los Alamos and a museum that is housed in the only remaining building from the days of the Manhattan Project. I find World War II history interesting and have a special interest in the building of the atomic bomb. One reason is that Oak Ridge, Tennessee was one of the secret locations. Another reason is that my mom’s uncle worked in the Manhattan Project and told a lot of stories about it. People have different opinions about the use of the bomb on Japan, and it is great to discuss the different views of the students. In the end, we agreed that hindsight is 20/20, and we can’t place that hindsight on people who were making decisions in the moment.

Day 10 – This was our last full day in New Mexico and was really a time to wind down. We hiked the mesa at Ghost Ranch and spent some time back on the plaza in Santa Fe. On top of the mesa, the students and I spent a spiritual moment reading a Native American poem, an ode to the land of New Mexico. I think we all felt a twinge of sadness because we were soon leaving and a sense of happiness because we had a great time throughout the trip.

Day 11 – We left Santa Fe at 5 am and drove over 700 miles to our original hotel in Sallisaw, Oklahoma. After a meal at Western Sizzlin’, the professors pulled chairs from our rooms into the Super 8 parking lot and discussed the trip. We deemed it a success.

Day 12 – We left Sallisaw at 5 am and headed home to Tennessee. It seemed that we got faster the closer we got to home. Like most trips, we were glad that we went but also were glad to get home.

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Rockin’ Rotary

19 Apr

Ten years ago, I was accepted into the local Rotary Club. I am not one of the more active members – alas, I will never be asked to serve on the board of directors or be an officer – but I show up at most meetings and pay my dues on time. That’s more than can be said for many members.

Those of us who show up on a consistent basis take part in a meeting format that has been in place for a hundred years. We don’t have secret handshakes or top-secret rituals like the Masons, and we definitely aren’t trying to control the world. However, there are Rotary guidelines (at least I think they are guidelines that all clubs follow) that we adhere to on a weekly basis.

First, we eat. This would probably be my favorite part if the food was any good. We meet at the local country club, and the cuisine leaves a lot to be desired. I understand that it is tough to cook for a large crowd, but there must be some tricks to the trade. The only trick that our kitchen has is mixing things up with cauliflower. We went two years with cauliflower every week. Cauliflower and carrots. Cauliflower and corn. Cauliflower and peas. They must have gotten an extra shipment or something.

The meat is not much better. The meatloaf is a little weird, but you know how meatloaf is – good or bad and no in between. We all look forward to the days of something fried. Everything tastes alright when fried.

After the meal, if you can call it that, the meeting officially starts. We are called to order because there is a lot of banter around the room, and everyone has to stand. Here, we pray and place hands over hearts for the Pledge of Allegiance.

(Sidenote: I have been placing my hand over my heart for the Pledge as long as I can remember. However, I don’t remember this always being the practice for the National Anthem. Politicians get in trouble for not doing it during the song, but I don’t think anyone did it until 9/11. If I am wrong, then let me know.)

We don’t sit down after the Pledge. Instead, we grab the songbooks for a rousing concert of a couple of tunes. It’s usually something like “I’ve Been Working on the Railroad” or “Home on the Range”. Imagine a bunch of grown people singing that. Then, the Sergeant of Arms tells a few jokes and introduces the guests. At one time, we had a pretty hot woman (at least I thought she was pretty hot) serve in this role and tell bawdy jokes. The old men really liked that. But, some preachers complained, and she was asked to stop. Preachers always know how to mess up a good time. She doesn’t come to Rotary anymore.

Once the fun and frivolity is over, it is time for the guest speaker. Sometimes it is interesting, and sometimes it is not. It’s educational, anyway.

So, that’s the short version of a Rotary meeting. Believe me, it seems a lot longer in person. I don’t really see the point of it all, but there is one good thing about it. The conversation during mealtime is always entertaining. You see, Rotary is like church where people sit in the same seat every time. If someone else is sitting there, then upset feelings will no doubt follow. I was raised as a good Baptist, so it is natural for me to sit in the back. That way I can skip out unnoticed. The problem is that my whole table skips out, and it’s noticeable. We are the slacker table in the Rotary mindset but not slackers for real. While others sit around for a couple of hours, we actually get up and go to work. Or, pretend like it.

Our table usually includes a college professor (me), a bread salesman, a convenience store owner, a chiropractor, a lady who used to cook at the country club but is retired (she complains about the food, too), a bank president who works more on his hair than he does at the bank, and a retired veteran who thinks he is funny but really isn’t. We talk local issues but spend most of the time picking on each other.

Folks at other tables include the aforementioned preachers, a body shop owner, one of the Cracker Barrel founders, other people from my school, and people who have been pillars of the community longer than I have been alive.

Overall, I guess I like being in Rotary. The meetings are a little goofy, but tradition often is. Mainly, I like it because I have met a lot of people who I consider friends. However, I haven’t learned to like cauliflower.

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A Totally Not Funny Account of My Trip to New Orleans

26 Mar

Last night, the group returned from the field trip to New Orleans after a lot of driving, walking and eating. Everyone was tired and haggard, a motley bunch indeed. Although I wanted sleep desperately, I took time to login into WordPress to check up on what I had missed over the weekend. There, I found my first negative comment.

Without going into details, the commenter took exception to one of the posts and wrote that there was nothing funny about it. In fact, I was being cruel. God forbid that someone look at the idiosyncratic aspects of life and write about them. I suppose that finding humor in the mundane is considered cruel in the eyes of some. I really don’t want to step on the toes of the sensitive, so here is a totally not funny account of my trip to New Orleans. Although, a lot of funny things happened.

Friday

Left campus at 6:45 AM in three white passenger vans.

Drove to Laurel, Mississippi and had crepes for lunch.

Drove to the La Quinta Inn on the outskirts of New Orleans.

Had hash browns covered with ham, bacon, sausage and gravy at a local diner.

Went to sleep.

Saturday

Left at 8 AM for the drive to the French Quarter

Took the students on a historical tour of the French Quarter. (A lot of cool and funny stuff happened here, but some people may not want to read about it.)

Went to lunch at a food festival and had gumbo.

Watched parts of a basketball game at Margaritaville.

Had a very enlightening conversation at Pat O’Brien’s.

Marched in a wedding parade.

Met with the students to make sure they were still alive still present. (Saying “still alive” may be funny to some, but who can take the chance?)

Looked at the art being sold around Jackson Square.

Had dinner at The Court of Two Sisters and dined on shrimp wrapped in bacon; salad; duck breast; dirty rice; and bread pudding.

Strolled down Bourbon Street

Loaded onto the bus and returned to the hotel.

Went to sleep.

Sunday

Got on the bus at 7:30 AM

Drove through the Garden District and the Lower 9th Ward. (There should be a social commentary here about the effects of Hurricane Katrina, but someone might take it wrong.)

Visited the site of the Battle of New Orleans.

Had lunch at McDonald’s in Laurel, Mississippi

Arrived back home.

It was a fun and informative trip for the students and teachers. It’s too bad that I don’t feel comfortable relating some of that fun. With the next post, I will return without the stick in my ass.

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A Tuesday Night in Nashville

15 Mar

I have written a couple of posts about Nashville and the great things it offers to those of us who live in its vicinity. For those who think it is a 21st Century version of Hee Haw, I feel the need to explain that Nashville is a cosmopolitan community that happens to be the home of country music. Last night, my girlfriend and I experienced a little of both – call it cosmo-country.

We started the evening by meeting some friends and going to Virago, one of my favorite restaurants.

It has fantastic sushi and is one of the go-to places in town for the famous and not-so-famous (which I am obviously part of). It is part of a collection of restaurants within a block, and each has a different feel. Across the street, sits Whiskey Kitchen, a laid back place where you can get good drinks and comfort food. Kayne Prime is also part of the collection, A high-end steak house, its bar has one of the best views of the Nashville skyline. There is also a secret locale known by only a few. Somewhere in the area is a speakeasy type club for members only. Luckily, I am a member. I would tell you all about it, but I would have to kill you.

After a dinner, we jumped a few blocks down and across the interstate to Marathon Village, home of several cool stores and Marathon Music Works, a new music hall that I had never been to before. I must admit that I entered with some trepidation. We were going to see a couple of performers that my girlfriend listens to all of the time, and we don’t have the same musical tastes. A few weeks ago, I took her to see Lady Antebellum on one night and Jason Aldean on another. I have been planning a post on those experiences, so I won’t go into detail now. I will just say that today’s country music is not my favorite, and some of them need to decide if they are going to be AC/DC or Hank Williams.

With that rant out-of-the-way, I will continue. We were there to see David Nail and Gavin DeGraw. I had no idea what either one of them sing, and I still don’t. However, that did not dampened the fun that I had. They are both great performers, and the crowd was buzzing as they sang. The music hall, which is located in an abandoned factory, is also cool with a huge layout and plenty of bars.

I firmly believe that there is no better place in the world to listen to live music than Nashville. I know that Austin, Texas claims to be the “Live Music Capital of the World”, and I have experienced that. There is definitely some great music played there. But, Nashville has numerous places where you can hear world-class music every night. I would venture to say that the vast majority of wait staff working at Virago or any other restaurant can play and sing as good as anyone you hear on the radio. People don’t go to Austin to get discovered, but they do come here. It is interesting to hear David Nail talk on stage about moving to Nashville three times before getting a gig playing in a local bar and feeling the appreciation he has for finally making it. It is cool to go to a dive and hear someone then see them some awards show years later. That is the musical experience in Nashville.

I am not a fan of today’s country music, but I am a fan of the city from which in emanates. It makes Nashville a special place in the eyes of the world. Those of us who live here know that it is special for other reasons as well.

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On Top of the Tornado

3 Mar

Storms swept across Tennessee today and left some destruction in their wake. Tornado warnings and watches were all over as the map turned green, orange and red. Thankfully, not much happened around my house, but it reminded me of a time that I found myself on top of the tornado. This tornado to be specific:

In 2008, my girlfriend of the time and I traveled to Atlanta for the Southeastern Conference basketball tournament. We hit the afternoon session to see my favorite team, the University of Tennessee, win a close game. As it ended, fans from all of the teams filed out of the Georgia Dome in anticipation of the night session and more excitement to come. However, we had other plans. Dinner reservations at the restaurant on top of our hotel, the kind that slowly turns so patrons can get a panoramic view of the city. After dinner and a few drinks, we would hit the lobby bar before turning in. As we got dressed and prepared for the evening, we could not anticipate what was really going to happen.

As we left the room, she asked if we should take our phones, and I said no because we weren’t even leaving the building. We took the special elevator to the top and exited into a crowded restaurant with people laughing and dishes clanking. With a little time to wait for a table, we found a seat, ordered some drinks and watched the sky light up in the distance. Lightning was everywhere, but it was miles away. At no point did anyone think that it would have an effect on us. Then, it happened. I noticed a strange haze outside and suddenly saw a large piece of something fly by. I immediately grabbed my girlfriend’s arm and said let’s go. Why?

I could only say one word. Tornado.

As we moved it hit the hotel. Diners screamed and began to panic. Chandeliers swayed, hitting the ceiling with each swing. The building was swaying as well. Not a good feeling when you are 73 stories high.

People immediately began running down the stairs thinking that they could beat the fall if the building collapsed. There was no way I was getting trampled in that stampede, so we stayed behind and rode the elevator down with the restaurant staff. By then, the tornado had passed and the electricity had not gone out. It was the slowest elevator ride ever because we really didn’t know if we would make it all the way down. Luckily, we did, and, when the doors opened, we found a lobby turned into a refugee camp. People who had been on the street came straggling in covered with water, dirt, debris and with haggard looks on their faces. It was a disaster movie come to life.

As people continued to pour in, we learned what happened after the tornado hit. It traveled down the street, wreaking havoc along the way, and hit the Georgia Dome where a basketball game was being played. Fans and players scrambled as the roof was ripped apart and pieces fell on top of them. I realized that my dad would have been watching the game and seen the carnage. I didn’t have a phone and was banned from going to the upper floors. Knowing that my parents were home worrying, I could kick myself for leaving my phone behind, but I got lucky again. Sitting on the floor across from me was a man from my hometown. I used his phone to call home, and my parents relayed what they were seeing on television. It was hell outside, and we were lucky to be alive.

After several hours, we were allowed to go to our room and got there at the same time as the people next to us. When they opened the door, they stood with shocked looks on their faces. Like moths to a flame, we followed them in and saw their entire window blown out. We were standing in an open room 40 stories in the air. Lucky once more, our room was untouched.

We left the next day and, for the first time, realized what we had found ourselves in. Debris was piled on all of the streets, and demolition workers had cleared a path on one street to get people to the interstate. It was like driving through an apocalyptic landscape, and we were scared. The shock and adrenaline had worn off, and reality set in. We came close to death and never realized it.

Lucky has been used a lot in this post, but that is an understatement. It’s been four years, and I still don’t have adequate words to describe it.

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Picture This – Bobcat Bite

27 Feb

Each May, myself and a few other professors (Dave, Fred and Pete) take students on a field trip to Santa Fe, New Mexico. Over a span of two weeks, we explore the surrounding area and provide the students with information in our fields of study. Dave, a business professor, talks about the economy of the region and how it changed during the centuries. Fred, an anthropologist, specializes in Native American cultures and oversees the trip. Pete, a biologist, tells us about the land, plants and animals of the area. I, as the historian, attempt to bring all of this together and tell the story of the region and its people.

However, eating is the highlight of the trip for all of us. We hit some of the best restaurants in Santa Fe and Albuquerque in an attempt to introduce the students to fine New Mexican cuisine. They think good Mexican food can be found at Taco Bell and the millions of locally owned Mexican restaurants in our area. I am convinced they are all owned by the same person because they all have the Speedy Gonzales special. At any rate, when they get back to Tennessee their taste buds have been spoiled with real peppers, sauces, tamales, burritos…the list goes on and on.

With that being said, one of our favorite places doesn’t serve Mexican food, from New or Old Mexico. In business since the 1950s, Bobcat Bite is a small, pink building on the outskirts of Santa Fe that hides heaven within its walls. In the picture, that’s me and Dave salivating before we go in. And, what’s waiting for us inside? Green chile cheeseburgers. These are 10 ounces of ground beef covered with cheese and drowned in green chile sauce. I don’t even have the words to describe how delicious it is. All I know is that it is so good that we go more than once on our trips.

The restaurant has been featured in GQ, Bon Appetit, and Travel and Leisure. But, I don’t have to read those articles to know what to do after I write my name on the chalkboard (being small there is usually a wait). With a little luck, I will get a seat at the lunch counter with a view at the surrounding mountains. From here, there is also a view of the kitchen and the wonderful things happening back there. Then, I order the cheeseburger that I described and an order of fries. They also have steaks, but that really isn’t the point. When the goodness is placed in front of me, I dig in and enter hamburger, cheese, green chile and grease paradise.

If you ever find yourself in Santa Fe, then do yourself a favor and head to Bobcat Bite. Get a cool t-shirt while you are there.

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