I've heard it's crass and uncultured to try to duplicate an amazing sensory experience . . . . is it? Educate me. Because I'm a heathen.
I have good news . . .
There will be chili tomorrow at Flatrock.
And apparently, there will also be some kind of soup having something to do with peanut butter. Peanut butter soup. Doesn't sound awesome, but I LOVE peanut butter and I like soup ("we both like soup . . . and snow peas . . . and we could talk . . . or not talk for hours . . ."). So I'm willing to try it. What could go wrong, really?
Peanut butter soup . . . there's a chance it could be phenomenal. I'm willing to take that risk. Plus I heard they sold out in two hours the first time the chef made it (whose name is Larry*).
*Larry and I had a long talk today about the cafe and the chili and the pies** and cinnamon rolls. As you can see, it went quite well. Thus chili tomorrow. And peanut butter soup.
**He makes them. From scratch. I know you think I'm a nutcase for being impressed with this. But I am. So sue me.
Showing posts with label restaurant. Show all posts
Showing posts with label restaurant. Show all posts
Friday, April 30, 2010
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
Chicago Dogs in Nashville
I've been doing a lot of eating lately. I think the winter is getting to me. Everything looks so tasty.
What's really bugging me is my kitchen. It's completely unfriendly, uninviting. You could say I was spoiled by my mom's kitchen—it was well-designed and has lots of counter space and room for food preparation. So ever since then, most kitchens have been pieces of crap.
The problem I have with my kitchen simply forces me to eat at restaurants. Because, you know, who wants to prepare food on three inches of counter space? It sounds like my fault, like maybe I could take some initiative and remodel the kitchen. Great idea, I'll tackle that as soon as I'm done with the devil room and the mud room (which we scrounged from the edge of devil room).
Yeah, we've been working on that for four months. The going is slow and frustrating because we both work full time. Stoker actually works twice as much as me and he's the brawn behind our projects. I'm not a damsel in distress, but I'm not about to hang drywall myself. Or cut it. Or mud it. Or sand it. What you can count on me to do is to fill the screw holes with mud. That's the extent of my interaction with the mud (aka joint compound).
I've already blogged about the crème de la crème of the hot dog world, the Home Depot hot dog stand (for interested parties, the Home Depot in Berry Hill, across from Hundred Oaks mall). Today Stoker and I got adventurous and tried the Chicago dog from Hot Diggity Dog, located behind the Episcopal church near the Mission in downtown Nashville. It was . . . ok. Just ok. You'd definitely expect this hot dog to knock my socks off, but it didn't.
I guess it's hard to top the BEST Chicago style hot dog. I went in with high expectations. Hot Diggity Dog had the cards stacked against them to begin with. To be fair, it wasn't a horrible hot dog, and at least I could request that the dog be grilled, or in their terms, charred. That was good. And the bun was toasted. But the relish was bright green. How can that be? It was almost glowing, like overly fertilized grass. Or more like that fake grass that comes in Easter baskets. It was weird. And I'll be honest, I prefer jalepenos to the sport pepper.
Next, we need to try I Dream of Weenie, which I hear is located on the East side. It's really about what you prefer, I guess. If you like the sport pepper, you'll like Hot Diggity Dog. If you like unnaturally green relish, you'll enjoy Hot Diggity Dog. So what I'm really telling you is that I prefer hamburger dill chips and jalapenos and strong onions and heartburn. Because that's what the Home Depot hot dog offers. It's great. It's downright American.
Another place we dined at recently is Flyte. World dining and wine. Dun dun duhhhhhhh. It sounds brilliant, doesn't it? It sounds very modern and chic and expensive. It was all of those things. I'll write my own personal review soon, and because I'm so keen on honesty (I seriously can't lie. Not even to shave $3 off the admission to lap swim at a county rec. center -- $3 adds up quickly when you really think about it, doesn't it?), I'll be forced to compare Flyte to my other fine dining experiences. That's just how it goes.
What's really bugging me is my kitchen. It's completely unfriendly, uninviting. You could say I was spoiled by my mom's kitchen—it was well-designed and has lots of counter space and room for food preparation. So ever since then, most kitchens have been pieces of crap.
The problem I have with my kitchen simply forces me to eat at restaurants. Because, you know, who wants to prepare food on three inches of counter space? It sounds like my fault, like maybe I could take some initiative and remodel the kitchen. Great idea, I'll tackle that as soon as I'm done with the devil room and the mud room (which we scrounged from the edge of devil room).
Yeah, we've been working on that for four months. The going is slow and frustrating because we both work full time. Stoker actually works twice as much as me and he's the brawn behind our projects. I'm not a damsel in distress, but I'm not about to hang drywall myself. Or cut it. Or mud it. Or sand it. What you can count on me to do is to fill the screw holes with mud. That's the extent of my interaction with the mud (aka joint compound).
I've already blogged about the crème de la crème of the hot dog world, the Home Depot hot dog stand (for interested parties, the Home Depot in Berry Hill, across from Hundred Oaks mall). Today Stoker and I got adventurous and tried the Chicago dog from Hot Diggity Dog, located behind the Episcopal church near the Mission in downtown Nashville. It was . . . ok. Just ok. You'd definitely expect this hot dog to knock my socks off, but it didn't.
I guess it's hard to top the BEST Chicago style hot dog. I went in with high expectations. Hot Diggity Dog had the cards stacked against them to begin with. To be fair, it wasn't a horrible hot dog, and at least I could request that the dog be grilled, or in their terms, charred. That was good. And the bun was toasted. But the relish was bright green. How can that be? It was almost glowing, like overly fertilized grass. Or more like that fake grass that comes in Easter baskets. It was weird. And I'll be honest, I prefer jalepenos to the sport pepper.
Next, we need to try I Dream of Weenie, which I hear is located on the East side. It's really about what you prefer, I guess. If you like the sport pepper, you'll like Hot Diggity Dog. If you like unnaturally green relish, you'll enjoy Hot Diggity Dog. So what I'm really telling you is that I prefer hamburger dill chips and jalapenos and strong onions and heartburn. Because that's what the Home Depot hot dog offers. It's great. It's downright American.
Another place we dined at recently is Flyte. World dining and wine. Dun dun duhhhhhhh. It sounds brilliant, doesn't it? It sounds very modern and chic and expensive. It was all of those things. I'll write my own personal review soon, and because I'm so keen on honesty (I seriously can't lie. Not even to shave $3 off the admission to lap swim at a county rec. center -- $3 adds up quickly when you really think about it, doesn't it?), I'll be forced to compare Flyte to my other fine dining experiences. That's just how it goes.
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