Whoa, two of our favorite things together at last…deep-fried and pickles. Like peanut butter and chocolate these two were destined to meet. And the minute Christine and I read that they were staples on almost every menu in Nashville, we knew we were destined to try them.
Unfortunately, our first sampling was horrible. Well, not that anything battered and deep-fried could ever really taste that horrible. Let’s just say they weren’t living up to their potential.
We first tried them at The Stage (pictured earlier in the post on Nashville) which is a rocking little honky tonk on Broadway. The band was awesome (they played Jimmy Buffet for Mom!), the beer was cold, and the bathroom — as you can see in the picture above — was hillbilly-tastic. So cool!
The problem was we were starving and there was only one lady working the whole joint, so it took a year to get served. She manned the bar, she made the burgers, she did it all. God bless her for that, but she needed some help. And so, unfortunately did those pickles.
The pickles were the flaccid, store-bought variety and the Ranch dressing was hard. Yes, I said hard, Disgusting! Of course, any normal person would have stopped there, but not us.
This first failed attempt at pickle bliss only whet our appetite for more. So, that night at dinner, we tried them again at a self-proclaimed “dive restaurant” near our hotel called South Street. They had sawdust on the floor, a tire swing out front and the bar was in a treehouse, which was very cool, but way too smoky for us West Coasters.
So we ate downstairs amidst a sea of crazy cool Elvis murals.
And here, in the glow of the King, we found it…the perfect deep-fried pickles! These were crunchy, Jewish deli pickles to die for and the batter was so light and fluffy you’d think you were eating tempura shrimp. They were fantastic!
The rest of the meal was tasty, especially Christine’s pulled pork on a cornbread fritter (which she later proclaimed as her SECOND favorite meal of the trip) but our communal desert was our best yet. Really sensational! And best of all, it too was deep-fried! Yeah!
We had originally wanted to try a handmade Nutty Buddy (candy bar), which our guide book assured us was a Nashville must-eat, but they were fresh out of Nutty Buddies, so we settled for the deep-fried cheesecake pictured below.
OK, I know it looks kinda gross, but holy God in heaven, it was amazing! You never saw four spoons moving that fast in your live. If the girls would have let me I would have licked the plate clean. Truly spectacular.
Then, our deep-fried pickle jones satiated, we chugged down some coffee and headed up the highway to the world-famous Bluebird cafe for some blues!