What’s up there, sweet cheeks? Leonard and I flew in to Nashville for a long weekend men’s trip. Nothing sordid ensued unless you count 5 meals of barbecue in 3 days as sordid. And my intestines sorta did. You know I don’t eat that much meat these days.
So I got in after him due to flooding around my departure airport, we picked up a car, and I immediately suggested barbecue. I had scoped the vicinity a little and knew some of the higher-toned establishments that I wanted to try, and also some of the chains. Right near the airport there turned out to be a Whitt’s; we pulled in to the parking lot and were so turned off by the obvious fast-foodishness of it that we pulled back out. This branch of Bar-B-Cutie was nearby; I think it’s the second company-owned one, from back before they started franchising it out.
You know, it’s pretty fast-foody in its own right, with smooth and soulless upgrades to the interior that to my mind clash with the nice retro exterior (which in turn clashes with the soulless nature of the strip malls nearby). I was put off by it, but it was getting late and we were hungry, and what the hell. So we ordered up a mess of food, in what quickly became the pattern for meals all weekend (because it’s the pattern for me every time I eat barbecue, and I get annoyed if a restaurant doesn’t allow it) – ribs, pulled, brisket, sides.
The ribs were extremely salty but soft enough, and tasty. I believe the pulled was dry here and required a lot of sauce. Brisket I don’t remember, which isn’t an exciting sign. Fried okra was good, turnip greens and stuffing were not. The pickle bar is a fun addition to the options as well. This was the first, but certainly not the last, time that we got ‘corn bread’, and it turned out to be little pancakes. That’s the style around here.
OK if you need it, otherwise go somewhere more interesting.
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