Road Trip food: Atlanta to Owensboro

From a few tip-offs including a thread from RoadFood.com, we took a little detour west of Nashville to hit the RiverView Marina Restaurant in Ashland City. We have been known in the past to drive a ways for the hint of a fish fry so we were excited about this catfish buffet on the river. The parking lot was empty at 2 minutes before it opened and 10 minutes later, the lot was packed. The buffet offered standard Southern fare; fried catfish, chicken, green beans, mac n cheese, potatoes and gravy, and a sad salad bar that mostly had wilted lettuce, scary dressings, and 'salads' that prominently featured mayonaise. The catfish was of good quality and not too greasy, the spinach was tasty, the mac n cheese was bright orange as it should be, but the hush puppies were the real winner. A good combo of spices and fat, the hushpuppies were tasty little puffs of evil. My husband also rated the banana pudding highly, it was made with Nilla wafers and had actual bananas in it. I pretty much can't stand banana pudding, some sort of childhood fear, but I could tell this pudding seemed a bit more 'fresh' than the radioactive yellow puddings normally found in the grocery store.

Once in Owensboro, we had one thing on our minds: BBQ. Owensboro touts itself as the capital of BBQ, with the MoonLite Inn as the capital. Not being big carnivores, it takes a good amount of hype/prodding/hunger to get us some meat. First of all, the MoonLite is warehouse huge which is a good thing considering how full the parking lots were. The place was full of Indiana residents from across the river, out of towners, but mainly there were locals who traveled in packs and could be identified by how often they stopped and spoke to someone while walking around the cavernous buffet. The mutton was not the life changing experience I had hoped for, but it was marinated and spiced within an inch of its life creating a very tender and flavorful alternative to the usual rack o ribs in a bbq place. Actually, I like the chopped pork better than the mutton. Again, the buffet featured the usual southern fat-filled evil with some neat additions such as the Burgoo, honey carrots, giblets, and 'dressing' (a yummy stuffing thing mixed with gravy and pieces of some sort of meat that I apparently missed out on as a child). The cornbread was fantastic, not sweet at all but a little spiced and full of buttery goodness. The salad bar was predictably scary, the potato salad being particularly full of mayo.

With the exception of the catered event we attended, we saw nary a fresh fruit or vegetable all weekend. With only fat loaded or fried veggies or fruits as part of a dessert; I actually feel a bit ill from such a drastic diet change. We can't imagine eating like that all the time but hopefully a week of penitent salads and wheatgrass colonics will purge us of the tasty, but evil food.

Drunk Food

The bars/club/pubs have closed. You are starving or else your long-suffering designated driver is insisting that you eat something now. Your next move is very important but do not fear, we are here to help chose the manner of the culinary attempt on your life.

The main factor in choosing your late night stumble home snack is largely beyond your control unless you happen to live in a big city: you eat what’s open. In most towns where only fast food and pizza places are open late, you will learn to love the greasy pizza or the McDrunk Food. Regional variations abound; fried chicken shacks, Waffle House, and Krystal are much more common in the South. Out West, late night taco stands are popular (not always of the Taco Bell variety) and the trend is moving east. Yankees tell me about orgasmic meals at White Castle or some greasy mystery meat cart in the cities. Many people wax lyrical about diners like Denny’s or Perkin’s, which are especially popular with drunken groups intent on annoying the waitstaff. Here in Atlanta we have the Majestic which is more of a ‘be seen’ place than good food, its like an after party but you aren’t in danger of breaking anyone’s furniture while showing off your dancing skillz.

In Fort Myers during my younger years, I vaguely recall nights at Denny’s and a smaller chain called Jerry’s (which seems to be defunct). After about 9 pm different subcultures rested in an uneasy truce once the Moons Over my Hammy were served, but much like an 80’s teen movie where there were random Goths at the popular kids’ party: it just looked weird and unnatural. Jerry's had some mean mac and cheese.

In London, the drunk food I most often found the greasy remains of the next morning was from Dionysos across from the Tottenham Court tube stop. I find myself dreaming of those fatty chips smothered in a thick curry sauce rolled up in a newspaper to this very day. A general rule of thumb if you do happen to be drunk in London or pretty much anywhere in Europe so I hear; any late night shop that has the words ‘kebab’, ‘doner’, or ‘falafel’ will be full of drunk people. There are whole websites and blogs devoted to doner worship. Extra points if there is wordplay involved , Abra kebabra comes to mind with its ubiquitous Irish presence, or if an aristocratic title is somehow added to the name of the shop ‘Doner King’ or ‘Prince of Kebab’ for instance.

On occasion the quartet of the greasy, the fried, the savory, and the fatty can be pre-empted by another of my favorite drunk foods. Be it ever so hippie but Annie’s White Cheddar Shells with broccoli and yogurt really hits the spot without angering the gnomes that dwell within my intestines.