Shame on you, Colonel Sanders. I can’t believe I’ve made it this far in life without knowing what fried chicken is really supposed to taste like.
I just wanted to pop in to say I’m down south for a wedding weekend, so am finding it difficult to post new recipes I’m making, as I’m mostly just gorging myself at restaurants.
Since arriving in Franklin, Tennessee I have:
- Eaten the most crispy, delicious, perfectly brown fried chicken ever, with mashed potatoes, green beans, and a jalapeño corn cake.
- Finally learned what a fried green tomato tastes like (I think I’ll stick to ripe ones)
- Listened to live blue grass music at the local grocery-cum-restaurant-cum-music venue (cum movie set??)
- Starred as an extra in a box office hit coming to theaters near you in spring 2015
- Had an entire 1890s mansion to myself (as the sole guest at the Inn on Franklin Square)
- Breakfasted on biscuits and gravy and hot tea (to ward off the cold I have coming on… ugh)
And I’ve only been here a little over 12 hours!
I’ve never been anywhere in the South before; like many places I visit, I think I could move here. This town is almost impossibly picturesque (it’s been voted top 10 small towns in America, so I guess I’m not the only one who thinks so). It is full of Nashville-escapees, antique hunters, and local residents with that trademark Southern hospitality. Main street is lined with shops and dining options, a historic theatre and town square, the old courthouse and places with names like “Cork & Cow” and “Wessex & Rye” (The kicker: there’s even an Anthropologie!)
I’m off to explore the shops and drive the historic Natchez Trace Parkway, glimpse a few antebellum facades, and head off to Alabama for a big-fat-Indian-wedding extravaganza!