what a place. for more than music. oh the food. i went with a fellow foodie (i’m actually underselling her majorly as she’s a certified chef) who had been to nashville recently and made all these resos for us. score.
nashville was lovely, it was like one of those first dates where you’re like “meh” – i’m only going so i can tell my mother that i have gone on a date when she asks during the holidays and then you’re two drinks in and you’re like – wait a minute batman, i like this. i really like this. don’tyouknowwhatimean? no? well then you’re going to have to go and see for yourself.
the people were kind. tourists stick out like sore thumbs which i love, it reminds me of paris in a tiny, weird way. music.is.everywhere. i know, thanks captain obvious. i quickly realized that i must have even less knowledge about music than i thought (coming from the girl who still runs to spice girls and has a near panic attack when people want to use her phone’s playlist at a party) because i thought everyone was so so good. i couldn’t tell the difference between them and luke bryan or taylor swift. i loveddddd it. i could’ve stayed in the bars for the rest of my life. i didn’t even mind that i drank white wine out of a clear plastic cup, because i did. a few times.
i might not know music, but i know food. i might not know how to make it or the official name for it or even how to pronounce it, but i know when food tastes good. i know when it’s a piece of art. i know when it’s a creation that was made with expertise and intention.
here are the spots we hit that are must-eat-everything-on-the-menu:
this place is like the soho house, nashville style without the exclusivity. it’s a few blocks from downtown, right by the river and it just hip, as none of the cook kids are saying these days. it’s this open, airy, chic space with lounge chairs in the front, a big central bar and then middle and then boots and tables along the edges. then. wait for it. there’s a bowling alley in the back – a super cool one.
also, allegedly there’s a pool back there too, but i was too busy slobbering over the food they brought me to go check it out. i’ll just have to go back for that?
(photo courtesy of restaurant hospitality)
(photo courtesy of wiremasters)
we started with the smoked trout dip and the kale caesar salad. the smoked trout dip was phenom but i cannot sing the praises of this kale caesar salad enough. it had me swinging from the rafters. i was aggressive with this salad. you have to get it. please. and then ship it to me.
i had the flat iron steak. ermagosh. hot hot hot. no, it really was hot. i loveddddd it but it made my tongue sing with fire, oh and there was okra on it. i fell madly, irrevocably in love with okra while in the nash.
the running joke was that every building we went into my friend wanted to know what the history of the building was. i swear we walked in somewhere and the guy literally goes, it’s a marriott. it was a marriott. she even asked the waiter at husk who told her the story but i was too busy faceplanting into the plates to listen.
this place blew my mind. i can’t talk about it without getting excited and then i start talking really fast because i mean look at this place. do you not want to live inside of it? i asked if i could, they declined. actually, they just laughed at me. it’s like you’re dining in your living room. if your dining room was a ginormous, gorgeous, southern plantation. they even have a garden with fresh herbs. oh and a meat room. a whole meat room. which is so not the technical term but i just wanna get on with it so can someone just comment and correct me?
i have to get to the food. i’m typing faster than normal just so i can tell you about it. soooo the menu changes constantly. which i love. stealing a line from my main man forrest, you never know what you’re gonna get. for a foodie like me, that is bliss. except when you go to write about everything you ate and you can’t reference the menu for the official names….!
rolf & daughters or as those people say, r.a.d. because that’s what it is. pretty rad.
i had the garganelli verde, heritage pork ragout, sarvecchio and was nearly rude about how much i loved it. i all but licked the plate and ate my spoon.
(photo courtesy of merchants)
we needed a lunch spot, and my chef friend (genius!) had friends who had loved this place so we had fomo and had to go. boy, was it a doozy. i was drunk in food love. and the bloody mary probably helped with that sitch.
we did deviled eggs because it’s against my religion not to. we did fried green tomatoes. we did the wings and i’m pretty they almost did give me wings. the dry rub. just stop it. you’ll never want marinated wings ever again.
just go. drink too much caffeine. it’s just a happy place where coffee dreams come true.