I’m not here to tell you the name is a lie. I’m not even here to complain about ‘cajun chicken alfredo’ being on the menu. I’m just here to say, this was some good barbecue. Good enough to try desperately to squeeze your snout out the crack in the window when you’ve been cruelly locked in there, the vapors creeping in to tantalize y’all.
Tempting to say that a place that cares enough to get their own neon is also a place that’s going to be very good. I wasn’t crazy about Carl’s ambience though. It has the feel of a place that’s been in bidness for quite a spell where management has kinda took their eye off the ball. There’s the thinnest film of ‘not clean’ on everything, or else it’s just worn, and it’s disorganized. Specially downstairs where we sat.
But hell, who cares about some trivial concerns like that when Sunday lunch is barbecue? This was definitely meat that was ready earlier in the day, but it was tasty meat. I ate waaaay too much despite this being my fifth meal of barbecue in three days. Ribs were excellent – soft, smoky, a little dry but in that way that’s dry and yet soft. And not at all dry like bad pulled pork. Brisket was chunks instead of slices, and was a real good’n. Pulled I don’t remember so much. The slaw was vinegar, which I really think is the way to go, especially when you’ve got a coating of sauce cooked onto the meat like we do here. Helps cut down the richness of the sauce and smoke and fat so it doesn’t get cloying.
Carl’s. Make the drive if you’re trying to eat good barbecue. Studies (mine) have shown that it’s a stretch to find anything really good in the center of Nashville.
(615) 797-4020
Closed Monday and Tuesday
Have a nice little walk in the woods after too. This is Narrows of the Harpeth State Park, so named because the Harpeth River does a funny little turn back on itself. It’s maybe because the rock of this bluff was too hard to wear away – there’s a big fin of rock that you can walk up in 10 or 15 minutes. near the top we saw a group of early-teen girls talking about life and love. And herpes. One seemed to have a boyfriend with the affliction (as does a majority of the population if popular online information sites are to be believed. And they are, without question.). The pertinent quote the bubbled up to us as we walked past was “Were y’all kissin’ on each other?” Just a few miles from downtown Nashville, and a world away.
