Potlikkery

saved by apple butter

This is one of those purely anecdotal posts lacking photos and if you don't know me or don't appreciate stories involving dining out with toddlers then you may decline to read.

So be it.

Elsa and I dined with Grammy and Gramps at a chain establishment I fondly refer to as the Crack Shack. Elsa says Cracky Berra. You may know it as Cracker Barrel. No doubt she loves it for the toys, lollipops, and candies.

Their saltines are above average believe it or not. And the sourdough bread has always satisfied me. Oh, and then their biscuits are awesome. And quite frankly I don't think anyone beats their pancakes and there are plethora of pancake pantry places in the region down near Pigeon Forge/Sevierville/Gatlinburg. So unfortunately I've sampled a fair number of pancakes to know what I'm talking about.

Anyway. Elsa will be two and a half next month. We're working on table manners. When she finishes eating she looks at me and says "Go bye bye."

And I show her I'm not finished, that Grammy and Gramps aren't finished. I tell her "Don't be rude." I remind her about table manners. There is so much to teach children; it requires regular reinforcement.

My words must have sounded like Pig Latin to her. She balked. She whimpered. Then her lip trembled and she cried. I whispered for her to stop. That didn't work.

But then I offered her a biscuit. She hadn't had one yet. No. But then I offered the apple butter. She never tired it before. She dipped an index finger in, tasted, and yum! She was all smiles.

Appy buddy!! She dipped it out of the container with a spoon and was much happier for it.

Obviously I'm one of those parents who placates their children with food. I'm not thrilled to manipulate her in such a manner. Yet the French serve their children wine with meals. That is how French children last so long at the table at leisurely meals. We all have our strategies. Apple butter worked for me tonight. It may be a one trick pony.

if you like lamb steak

What with the diet and all it's rare that I eat a rave-worthy meal. Work had me travelling west to Murfreesboro, Tennessee last week and Amy and I drove another thirty minutes into Nashville to eat at Merchant's. She touted its fried green tomato appetizer and cocktails. But the item she couldn't forget from the menu was tater tots cooked in duck fat.

I'm all about duck and duck fat. That's a rarity.

Merchant's is on Broadway, deep in the heart of tourist trap Nashville. A Predators game commenced as we drove into town, so traffic was congested and we fought our way along the sidewalk like salmon swimming upstream. 

Once we arrived at Merchant's we learned the wait was about thirty minutes for a table. Since they don't have live music like most of the other places on Broadway, they don't attract a large number of tourists---this is just my anecdotal observation from one visit and not based on any true evidence.

Amy preferred sitting at the bar, and I can't say I blamed her. One of the joys of travel, especially sole travel, is dining at restaurant bars. We ponied up to the bar and our lumberjack attired barkeep brought over a menu. I say lumberjack, but the website calls them newsboys. They're decked out in jeans, suspenders, plaid shirts, and newsboy caps. 

Our lumberjack had a syrupy southern lilt that made me feel at home right away. Amy ordered a beer and I got a Clover club. I like gin, and the egg white appealed to me. It seems I tried making this at home once, years ago with little success.

Imagine my surprise when our barkeep placed a pepto-pink drink in front of me. I said, "If I'd known it was pink, I wouldn't have ordered it." Of course, the raspberry should have tipped me off. Despite it's off-putting color, I finished the drink. It was okay. Probably won't order it again. I drank water the rest of the night.

The menu was not the one listed on their website, which actually represents their fall one. Barkeep--because I didn't get his name and think I've since disposed of the receipt that possibly bore his name (I do so objectifying servers) said that they change it seasonally. Hence, they must not have the spring menu represented on the website as of this date.

Anyway, deciding what to order took time. It was between a turkey leg confit sandwich, a panfried trout, and a lamb steak.

In the meantime, our duck fat fried tater tots arrived. As you might imagine, they knocked the socks off any other kind of tater tots you've ever had. Condiments accompanying them were: ketchup, malted mayonnaise, and Bearnaise. Ketchup was run of the mill. The malted mayonnaise was awesome and the Bearnaise melted in my mouth.

I went with the lamb steak because lamb is the most unusual menu item in these parts. It was served on a bed of mashed potatoes and basalmic onions. Barkeep said it would arrived cooked about medium. I said that was okay if that was the best they could do. I prefer my meat barely cooked, but warm. Tough meat isn't worth eating in my book.

The lamb was awesome. The meat was tender. You knew it was lamb, but it didn't have an overpowering gamey flavor that lamb sometimes has. Barkeep inquired about its origins. He said most of their ingredients are local. Apparently in the past their lamb came local, but local lambs are too fatty, so this particular lamb was from Colorado.

Mashed potatoes were good. Onions were good, too. I ate about half. I took everything to go and ate leftovers the next day.

We were too full for dessert. Most definitely would return to Merchant's and would recommend the excellent food and service to others visiting the downtown Nashville area.