Destination : BBQ and Pie

Going to a new restaurant based on a review is always a risk. Do I know the person who gave the review? Is this a trusted friend, someone who I know has similar tastes and tolerances to my own, or is this an unknown reviewer out there in the vast blogosphere? This past week I took a chance, based on a review of two pie shops and a bbq restaurant in DeVall's Bluff, a small town just southwest of Brinkley and I-40 in Arkansas.

So the husband and I loaded up with our neighbors and headed off for a short road trip for a BBQ lunch and some pie for desert. After a drive through the flat farmlands of the Delta, where the farmers always seem to have too much (or not enough) rain, we arrived at what was not a lot more than a wide spot in the road. The sign greeting us read "DeVall's Bluff, population 780." This definitely would be an interesting experience at least.

First stop in town was for lunch at Craig's BBQ. It's the typical older bbq shack building from the exterior, and even more simple and dated inside. Layers of linoleum peek out around the floor, showing that the sign outside proclaiming "est. 1947" probably isn't an exaggeration. Our enthusiastic and friendly waitress arrives and we order up the pork bbq and lemonade to drink, which she coyly assures us is good, "'cause I made it." One sip and I agreed, it was good lemonade, less tart and more sweet than most. The bbq wasn't quite what we expected, as it was sliced rather than pulled pork. I'd also read a review on RoadFood.com that warned of the heat levels to their sauce. The sandwiches arrived already sauced, and I wisely chose mild. I sampled the medium sauce version my husband ordered and as I consumed more cooling lemonade I pondered just how flammable was their hot sauce. I was saving my bravery for later or I'd probably had to ask for a taste of the hot sauce, just out of curiosity. I don't know I quite agree with RoadFood's overall review of "Worth driving from anyplace," but it would make a good stop along my way if I were traveling through the area.

Next stop: Pie Shop. Not just any generic grocery store bakery, but a step back in time to Family Pie Shop (also known as Mary's Place.) Just across the street, set back from the highway about 100 feet is this white cinder block building with "pie shop" hand painted on the side. We passed the driveway a couple of times, debating in the car if that actually was the real entrance or just a driveway to a house next door. My friend and I stepped in through the screen door and instantly I was transported back to my grandmother's kitchen both from the sight and the smell. Ms. Mary came out to greet us and told us what kind of pies she had today. "Chocolate, coconut and one or two apricot fried pies." She carefully gathered up our selections from her kitchen, slipping the chocolate mini-pies (about 5-inch individual pies) into Styrofoam containers and graciously thanked us for stopping by. She genuinely seemed to take modest pride in her work and that alone made me glad we sought out her pie shop.

As we stopped at a local gas station further down the road headed home, we dove into the pies. It was simple, good homemade pie. It wasn't one of those overpriced concoctions that boasts vast mountains of meringue above a mediocre filling, it was all clearly homemade and good. Not a "turn the car around, I need more NOW" type of good, but tasty nonetheless. I don't recommend that neat freaks or those indoctrinated to the southern small-town restaurant kitchen go inside; it's not a shiny commercial production kitchen but a hodge-podge of ovens, plastic bowls and utensils from 10 years ago or more, low lighting, no seating for customers, and its one nod to the modern world, a substantially-sized commercial grade stainless refrigerator.

Overall it was a good trip for the company, the adventure and trying something new. I can't say I was as overwhelmingly impressed with the food as the reviews led me to believe, but both are worth trying as a stop along the road. And the service? It's typical of a small town in the Mississippi delta, it's consistently more friendly and inviting than many other places I've been.

Sensory Overload, Part 1

Sitting in my hotel room in Wisconsin and having never been to any sort of automotive racing other than a few times as a teen watching the Demolition Derby at the local county fair, I really can't say I knew what to expect.

The whole thing was an experience like no other. Just taking in the four miles of road course tucked into the Wisconsin countryside with wooded areas scattered about, the setting was peaceful. Out of nowhere, the roar of a 1970's era racer would arrive followed promptly by a view of the car and it's pavement-focused driver. For the car buff, the photographer or even just the outdoorsy type, it's a bit of nirvana. If you happen to be a bit of all three like me, it's a bit of sensory overload. What to see, do and absorb first?

I started off by doing the track touring. It's an opportunity for those like me who wish they had a third of the mental connection the seasoned track drivers do with their automobiles. Despite having an experienced friend who in another life must be a driving instructor in my passenger seat, the first couple of laps were a little unnerving. The next thing I know, it's time to exit the track as the allotted 50 minutes or so had already zipped past, almost as fast as the blur of Ferrari's that had roared by me two laps ago. For some reason, I didn't mind so much being passed.

The rest of the first day my husband and I spent exploring the track and trying to stay warm and dry. Who knew that Mother Nature would bring weather so cool that it was challenging 104-year record low temperatures? Thankfully, the group we were with had rented several golf carts to get around the paddocks and various vantage points. I can't begin to imagine how they went to this event for years and didn't have any small transportation like the golf carts. Somehow they can't seem to remember how they did it either, other than to say they were smacking themselves for not renting the carts all those years prior.

Over the next two days, the weather improved and we would spend time roaming the track, watching the Morgans, the Ford GTs and GT40s, the Ferraris, Porsches and so many other fascinating cars make lap after lap around the track. There simply wasn't a bad vantage point. Race photographers didn't gather in one media area, they moved about various places around the track as did I with my once "big" lens that seemed to shrink in the presence of the pros and their monstrous lenses.

That was the "Road" of Road America, and I could go on for days about the collection of cars. Things I'd only read about and seen in photos were there for me to admire, photograph and admire some more. Car lovers beware, this place will take you in and not let go.

I might have been taken in by the sights, sounds and even smells, I didn't forget the tastes too. Those are up next...

Cheese and Vintage Cars

My husband has always been a car nut, and unlike many other car guys, his enthusiasm hasn't been hampered by an anti-car wife. It's quite the opposite. Being married to him only encouraged my own interest in cars.

Being the car guy he is, my husband has been a faithful subscriber to Road & Track magazine for around 20 years or so. This means every time we've moved the collection of magazines has been migrated to its next home. Considering that every month the number expands, I don't relish the next move. Though I do think it might be a strong motivator for hiring a moving company.

For years we've read about the vintage races in Elkhart Lake, Wisconsin at Road America. The Road & Track Concourse d'Elegance showing off all the classic Jaguar E-types, the old Astons, the Morgans... it sounds like a little slice of heaven on earth for the gas powered engine obsessed. After reading about this event for so long, this spring we finally connected with friends who've been going to the races for a number of years and they invited us along. How could we say no?

Thankfully we didn't say no and just a few weeks ago made the trip northward to Wisconsin. After a short overnight stay in Illinois on the way at a typical interstate-side "bland box" hotel we met up with our friends and headed toward the land of cheese and cars. On the way I couldn't decide which appealed more, the cars or the copious amounts of cheese I intended to consume. Whenever it came up conversation that we were traveling to Wisconsin for vacation, I was met with these puzzled looks almost always followed by "What's in Wisconsin?" After about the seventh time I had an answer ready to go. "Vintage car races, along with lots of cheese and cooler weather." That seemed to satisfy even the beach-bound crowd.

After seeing the size of Elkhart Lake, I found out why our group had chosen a hotel in nearby Sheboygan. Elkhart Lake, population 1021, has a limited number of hotels that are very much catered to the weekend race crowd that comes in a few times a year. They're limited in quantity and for the most part priced from slightly above average to prices that would cover the cost of an economy car for a family of four.

Our hotel was a Sleep Inn, and it's the first time I have stayed in one of that chain. The rooms were typical of a basic room, with furniture that could use a bit of updating. Overall though, they were pretty spacious and had a vast expanse of desk space so it was easy to drop off the stuff we'd collect over the trip and leave it for organizing and attempting to cram into the car at the last minute.

My first morning in the hotel, I fumbled into the bathroom, half-awake. I crinkled my nose and coughed at overpowering smell of cigarette smoke. I know my husband pretty well and I felt pretty safe assuming that he hadn't slipped into the bathroom for a quick few puffs (he definitely does not smoke.) The front desk attendant explained to me that the hotel has an air system that circulates the air throughout the entire hotel on a set cycle. It was the "entire hotel" part that posed the problem; ten rooms on the top floor were smoking rooms, and despite our room being on the bottom floor, it still permeated the bathroom as though an employee took their smoke break in there. Supposedly I should have been thankful that our room wasn't above the pool, the chlorine smell was considerably potent in the 2nd floor rooms. Either way, I think its pretty inexcusable with a modern hotel and should be on the hotel owner's priority list of problem areas to fix post haste. Beyond this faux paux, the hotel had an adequate continental breakfast and an extraordinarily friendly staff that rivaled southern hotels in hospitality with their sincere willingness to help.

Next stop we're off to the races and I'll elaborate on my attempts to "OC" or over-cheese at dinner every night.

Sub anyone?

How weird is it that at the beginning of very rainy day of traveling, I stopped in at at sub shop for lunch? I think a sub of the larger kind might have been useful at times today in place of the car while navigating through the torrents of rain that poured down almost endlessly.

Back to the sub shop, Sub Depot is a small place at the end of a strip mall my husband and I stumbled upon while leaving Nashville. The start of any good sandwich begins with good quality bread and these guys have that down. Sampling both the white and cracked wheat, which was more a heavily seeded wheat, both were exceptional. What was on them wasn't half bad either. They also know how to properly cook bacon for a club sandwich; not raw and not solid enough to drive nails, but nicely balanced at that just right spot in-between.

The sheer variety of sandwiches, salads and more available was impressive, and especially amazing was the fairly speedy fashion in which we got our order. Tasty, fresh and made to order from a huge menu, all in maybe 5 minutes? Noteworthy to say the least. Other interesting touches were the free wifi (always nice) and the notepads & pens at every table. That to me was a stroke of brilliance. How many times have I been at lunch discussing something with my husband or a friend and wanted to make a note for myself for later? This is the point at which my husband would remind me that a simple PDA or an iPhone would eliminate the need, but I digress. They provide the means to make those important notes and get some free marketing later as you reference the note on their note paper, pre-printed with their name of course. Not much surprises me in the way of restaurants these days, so I appreciate the creative attention to an overlooked detail.

After a tasty lunch we took off headed East. That's when a more water-based craft version of a sub would have been handy. After a few trips over the years headed east, I don't know it's possible for me to make a trek across I-40 without experiencing some sort of inclement weather. Last time it was snow through the mountains around Asheville, NC. More than once we've met with heavy rain through Nashville. This time it was steady rain from Nashville all the way east to Johnson City, TN. For one brief interval, the sun came out and the rainbow appeared, in all its colorful glory. It wasn't meant to last, and driving that long in the rain gets old in a hurry. At least we had the two of us to swap driving and keep each other motivated. Sing-alongs in the rain at full volume help too.

For some reason, I persist in traveling the highway and enduring what nature dishes out. I guess I'm a glutton for the punishment, that or it's just my sunny outlook because "it's just a part of the adventure."

And the trip goes on...

After a long day on the road, we finally arrived at the Crowne Plaza in Greenville, South Carolina. Our experience with the Crowne Plaza and reasonable reviews on Trip Advisor led us to stay there. Chatting with some of the hotel staff we found that the hotel was very recently renovated and used to be some other variant in the Holiday Inn family. It had two things going for it that I highly prize in a hotel: a comfortable bed and nearly non-existent noise level. They took the philosophy adopted by the Crowne Plaza chain with a sense of humor; at the lobby of the top floor, a simple sign greeted guests explaining that this floor was a Quiet Zone and no families with rambunctious kids, marching bands or otherwise noisy crowds would be permitted to stay there. The coordinating Do Not Disturb door tags even asked that guests keep the show tunes in the shower to a hum instead of stage-ready levels. Overall, the fact it was quiet and comfortable made for a winner. I don't think the hotel is quite as spacious and plush as other locations, but the price reflected that.

Then there was the other reason to stay there, and I would have tolerated a lot just for this one thing. Attached to the hotel was Ruth's Chris Steak House, and they just opened a week before we arrived. A quiet, comfy bed merely steps away from the best steak I've found yet, that might be a pinnacle of travel goodness. Suffice it to say that the Ruth's Chris in Greenville is well worth a stop and the new crew there are doing a great job keeping up the well-earned reputation of the best steak, period.

I think I'd describe Greenville as a comfortable city. It's one of those places that as soon as I got there, I felt at ease and could see why it's residents like it. The downtown area is what my hometown aspires to be someday, yet it still hasn't quite reached its full potential yet. Catchy shops and cafes fill most of the spaces along the tree-lined main street. It was notably clean, and the folks strolling along seemed to truly care about keeping it that way. Downtown there's a park with an usual suspension pedestrian bridge that overlooks a small waterfall. The park overall provides a place to relax for both tourists and area residents alike; locals were out playing frisbee and walking their dogs. With the downtown area just steps away, it's a balanced blend for small city life.

Downtown includes a variety of restaurants, leaving us plenty of good choices to just randomly pick from, including where we stopped in for lunch at Trio. We hadn't planned on a casual dining Italian restaurant, but we were glad we did. Ordinarily I'd have ordered a cup of soup and a small pizza to share, but my husband and I opted for the Pepperoni & Mozzarella Calzone. Again, we couldn't have chosen better. It was probably the best calzone I have ever tasted, with a perfect ratio of crust to fillings, all of which were delicious. I also tasted the roasted chicken, which in an Italian cafe whose emphasis is more on pizza & pasta, was surprisingly very good. With some warmer weather, I'd love to return to the downtown area, take a nice slow stroll through the shops and despite the variety of restaurants to tempt my taste buds, it would be difficult to turn down a return trip to Trio.

When I head out for a good road trip, I try to do a little research online for what is good local, and when it comes to BBQ, Henry's comes well recommended on sites like Chow. (No recommendations for chain restaurants on this site, unless they're really something extraordinary.) This was one of the few times I think our group disagreed with the recommendation. The only way to describe it is that it was some of the wettest BBQ I've seen anywhere. It wasn't bad, but only half our group thought it was good, the rest were unimpressed.

After a couple of days exploring Greenville, it was time to head home. With me, the adventure doesn't end until I'm back in my own living room, so as we approached Knoxville at lunchtime, I got out the laptop for some quick on-the-go research. Creamery Park Grille kept coming up as a local favorite, just a couple of miles away from the interstate. One exit and a short drive later and we were walking in the door. It's a very small but quaint restaurant. Patrons write their names and number in their party on a chalkboard near the entrance, and are then seated as available. Everything we ordered was definitely fresh-made and top quality. I had a ham & cheddar melt, but it arrived with a sugar glaze dip that made it go from good to Wow in one bite. The triple grilled cheese ranked highly, up in the range of my own home cooked favorite. Served with lunch were small scones, which didn't last long with my mother & I devouring them. During the summer I usually make at least one pass through Knoxville, and I'm putting this on my list of places well worth seeking out again.

(Be aware the grille is located in a two-story building, with no accessibility to the top floor beyond a pretty long staircase. Those with bad knees or trouble climbing stairs will want to request street level seating.)

Head East, Eventually.

A couple of weeks ago I attended the International Motorcycle Show in Greenville, South Carolina with my husband and my parents. Each winter, Cycle World puts on a series of events in about a dozen major cities across the US and every year we pick a location to attend. We've been to places like the Georgia World Congress Center, and after hiking what seemed to be literally miles of mazes to just find the show, we promptly vowed to never return. There there are others like the Carolina First Center which was probably one of the best show locations I've seen yet.

Being February and still cold by southern standards anyway, we decided to all load up in one car and drive. We have a limited stable of larger cars in our family and rather than buy a tank to drive year-round, we rent one for the once-a-year time we need it. If the trip had any downfall, this was it. We reserved a car (or rather a "class" as they say in the rental car industry) for the trip and called that week to verify the reservation. "You'll have your pick of the lot" I was reassured by the friendly agent on the phone. He failed to complete the thought with the rest of his sentence, "... as long as your pick is the smallest Kia SUV we could find." So my reserved tank-class vehicle was presented as a minimal at best increase in space to my own small four-door car. Suffice it to say, we were highly frustrated. Frustration led however to a moment of creative thinking and we loaded up in the car we had, heading east. Since our planned route took us through Memphis and right by the airport... ah ha! Of course National at the airport had exactly what we were looking for, a clean big SUV ready for 10 hours of rolling down the highway. One swipe of the credit card and a bit of bag shuffling and we were finally on the way, properly outfitted for the trip.

I'd like to report we found some amazing stop on the way to Greenville, but with the delays leaving and stopping to rent an SUV, we just barreled through Tennessee, covering the length of the state at a steady pace. We did spot an interestingly named restaurant when we stopped for dinner, Petro's Chili and Chips, but at nearly 10pm and 3 more hours of travel to go, we decided it might not be a wise stop. Next time I'm in Knoxville, Tennessee though, I may just have to look up Petro's for a stop. I can't pass up a chance to try chicken tortilla soup, especially one described as "homemade."

Next stop, Greenville, South Carolina at a good hotel with a comfy bed. More on that later...

The World Chicken Festival

For a classic Southern festival with all the character, odd items for sale and next to every food possible deep-fried, the World Chicken Festival in London, Kentucky is a prime example. Every summer this small town opens up its doors to the world and according to locals about 300,000 people pour in for all the festivities. Less than twenty miles down the road from the home to the original KFC in Corbin, Kentucky, London hosts the yearly festival over several closed off blocks downtown. Besides, any event that advertises the "worlds largest skillet" is worth checking out.

We spent a couple of hours roaming the street, ducking into booths of local wares, t-shirts, toys to tempt the younger crowd, and of course a few places with items pawned off as local with those little "made in china" stickers still prominently affixed. For those looking to mingle with the unnaturally gorgeous types that live in tv-land, this isn't the place. It's a place to disappear in a t-shirt clad denim world. That infamous skillet is located at one end of main street; the line for chicken meals was long enough that despite my strong desire to consume something from a skillet so large it requires a garden rake to stir, I gave in to the call of a shorter line for funnel cake instead. It was a tough decision, mass quantities of fried chicken or a funnel cake... hmm... fried and artery clogging in the sweet or savory form... Either one has a truly satisfying effect.

Despite the size of the crowd and location, parking wasn't terribly difficult or expensive. Rather than starting at the nearby lemonade stand where they didn't even make a pretense of trying to hide the Country Time Instant Mix they were using to make their $5 a glass "homemade" lemonade, we stopped at a local restaurant for lunch on the way to Main Street. House's Restaurant was a real find. The food was good, but what really made it exceptional was the hospitality of owners Dean and Doris and their really cool pool hall in back. Decorated with quirky message signs and memorabilia and with the tunes provided by a real jukebox (the kind that plays 45 singles) the pool hall was the kind of place you could hang out for hours and never get bored, while never really doing much either. Owner Doris is there grilling up burgers daily, and it's clearly one of those fixtures in the area; the restaurant has been in the same spot since 1963. Well worth the stop on 4th Street, plus it's right on the way to Main street and the Chicken Festival.

To compensate for the overload of inevitable fried goodies that ultimately most any visitor to the festival will be tempted into consuming, the day starts with a 5K run. It certainly made me feel better knowing that I'd prepaid my penance for the funnel cake I ate that afternoon. Plus the course for the race was interesting, and definitely hilly enough to be challenging. For those who are not into such a hardy wake-up, sleeping in until the parade starts at around 11am is a perfectly acceptable substitute.

Overall it's worth a drive, but at 7 hours one-way, I'll probably not make it a yearly pilgrimage. But if I did go back, I'd probably wait in line for a piece of chicken.

About Town in Fredericksburg, Texas

There's a certain set of elements common to the small, southern, tourist-friendly town that makes these types of places easily identifiable. For the tourist, they center around a cluster of a few blocks containing local specialty shops, or at least shops that put up a "local" appearance. Mixed in are a few restaurants that primarily focus on the area's reputation or heritage, from Victorian to German to whatever nickname the town has garnered over the years. Parking is always limited and awkward, and often the buildings are presented as old, regardless of their real age, as a way to draw in the nostalgia-seekers and history buffs. And there's almost always one good sweet shop or chocolatier selling their decadent treats to tourists needing a sugar-fix or a good way to truly blow their diet to smithereens.

I've been to a number of these towns, and when they aren't quite as well known beyond about a 200 mile radius, they tend to be more relaxing and maintain their charm. Once they reach much beyond that, they morph into something entirely different; they become a haven for rednecks, a tourist trap complete with twenty-seven miniature golf courses and traffic that slows to a crawl. When that change becomes imminent, I scratch them off my travel destination list. I've seen what both look like, and fortunately there's enough of the good kind left that I don't think we're in danger of them all going downhill to become the next version of "hillbilly hell."

Fredericksburg shares the basics of the better type of these small towns. Parking isn't quite as difficult, although it is somewhat limited. The class of shops there is a bit of a step up from the typical corner ten-dollar t-shirt stands and trinket shops; those looking for designer label clothing can shop here quite well. Crowds were very moderate, and the main street blocks are a mostly flat, easily accessible area to roam around during the day. It's clear that a number of the shops aren't someone's dream business where they've poured every last penny of savings into making it happen. Someone has provided quite generous funding so that no detail goes unnoticed, from the flooring to the light fixtures and every inch in-between. Not all are this way, but enough to make them worth noting.

The German heritage of the area shows in the restaurant menus, schnitzel in about every form is commonplace, as well as German beer, beer and more beer. Did I mention that they clearly must move a lot of German beer? While there, my husband and I went to August E's for dinner one night and The Auslander Biergarten another evening. Both were good, though I will say I liked the atmosphere and food overall a bit better at August E's.

For hotel, we chose a suite at the Fredericksburg Inn & Suites. It's well located for convenient access to the shopping and dining district. For the price, it wasn't bad but I would probably choose something a little quieter and newer for any return trips to the area. With the old school outside entrances to the rooms and a courtyard in the middle with a large pool, it's going to be a bit noisy by design. The staff there was exceptionally friendly and helpful, which these days is a very pleasant find. The included continental breakfast was worth stopping to eat, and better than many others I've found.

Fredericksburg was our home base for the trip, but we spent a good deal of time driving the back roads of Texas Hill Country. The quality of roads that seem to be completely out in the middle of nowhere is pretty impressive. Another noteworthy thing was the friendly nature of other drivers. Anytime we were behind someone that was traveling a bit slower than we would prefer to go, all we had to do was wait a minute. As soon as it was reasonable to do so, they would pull off to the far right side of the lane, using the shoulder of the road as much as possible to allow us to pass. If only all slower drivers went to Texas for a little driving lesson... sigh. On Saturday, we made a lunch stop at Frio Canyon Motorcycle Stop in Leakey, Texas. Talk about your obscure places, this is up on the list of out-of-the-way eateries that's worth finding just for the experience. The eclectic collection of motorcycles, cars and other unusual motorized devices made for entertainment just walking through the parking lot. Oh and they serve food too.

Also just a few miles east of Fredericksburg is Wildseed Farms. Their primary business is wildflower seed used throughout the US in highway areas for erosion control and other purposes. At their Fredericksburg store, they have a large selection of garden plants and gardening items, decorative accessories, locally produced foods like honey and preserves. They also have a $5 tour of their Butterfly Haus and trial gardens. For a amateur photographer or hobbyist, this place will virtually guarantee a need to go buy more camera memory cards on the way back into town. I clicked away until I saw the dreaded "CF Full" on the display and let that be my indicator I'd been behind the lens long enough. (See picture at left from the Butterfly Haus and above from the trial gardens. )

I'd rank Fredericksburg up in the group of still really undiscovered small tourist-friendly towns with places like Blowing Rock, North Carolina or St. Charles, Missouri. It's a bit more upscale like those two towns, but with the benefit of Texas Hill Country roads right at it's doorstep, it does have some extra mileage. The only downside I see is that it's a 13 hour drive to get there. That's a long way to drive, especially when a significant portion of the plan after I get there is to go for a drive.

It's a Gamble: Food away from the Interstate

Sometimes when you venture off the known food road you're rewarded with a memorable experience. Those aren't always the best food experience but it's one of those risks generally worth taking. On the way to Texas hill country my husband and I stopped at Dixie Diner in Texarkana. The food was mostly food service bland but the music was funny. For some truly odd country music this is the place. The example that sticks with me most was the song where the only lyrics I could catch were "chicken fried". Now that I think about it, one other singer did seem to have an abnormal fixation with the phrase "visibly shaken". I'm not really sure why either would inspire an entire song dedicated to their wondrous phraseology, but someone deemed it necessary. We also made a stop at Penny's Diner, somewhere in southern Texas. It was another instance of the setting made the meal better. The waitress was chatty, but in that good southern hospitality sort of way and the place definitely had the 50's long metal diner building style down quite well.

I wouldn't really recommend either diner, but they were worth a good laugh and provided sustenance. Not every off-the-beaten-path choice is a perfect winner. It could also be that I've finally traveled enough to become a tough customer to surprise and impress.