No trip to visit Jackie’s mom could end well. But, the surreptitious–and heavy–pouring of distilled spirits make the journey less horrific. Slightly.
The laws here are funny. A few years ago (just before our last visit, in fact), liquor sales were approved here and now the county has several purveyors of fine spirits. However, you have to go some statutory distance to purchase mixers as they cannot be sold on or near the premises. Also, while they can sell liquor and wine in a licensed establishment they cannot sell beer.
Nearby states have their own quirks. Alabama and North Carolina only sell liquor from state run shops (actually called a “State Store” in ‘bama). Until recently, South Carolina ONLY had liquor-by-the-drink so that a loophole allowed stores to sell those miniature airline bottles in cases of 48 or so. There was a drive through shop in Atlanta that you could shove a gallon milk bottle through the window and they would fill it with draft beer, and if you bought a pint of liquor and a mixer they would throw in a cup of ice for free…what you chose to do with those items on your journey was your own business.
I picked up a 1.75 liter bottle of Early Times bourbon for $18 (that’s about 11.50 pounds sterling, brit folk…read ‘em and weep). We are each bringing our own treats back with us, and for my 1 liter duty free import I ill have Wild Turkey White Label (101 proof sipping bourbon for the Christmas holidays). Dunno what Jackie will bring, but the prices can’t be beat.
Oh, here’s the view just outside:
There isn’t much I miss about America…baseball, cold beer served in 64 ounce pitchers, Mexican food, and Goody’s Powders are about the entirety. Here is a brief tutorial on how to enjoy a Goody’s.
Step One: Acquire a box of Goody’s
Step Two: Extract one powder
Step Three: Unfold the packet/envelope exposing the powder
Step Four: Tilt the paper allowing the powder to slide onto your tongue…not too far back or you’ll cough, not too far forward or, well, trust me on this one
Step Five: Moisten quickly to a lump and swallow. Perhaps enjoy a swig of your favourite cold beverage.
Nothing says Japanese food, to me at least, like being served chewy, overcooked, teri-yucky drenched beef connective tissue by an obese guatemalan dude. While the NASCAR report blares out of the televisions in the two rooms of this quite lovely little house. No sushi, no sake. No return visit.
Afflicted with a massive upper respiratory infection, I begged off the luchtime outing with Jackie’s people but needed a bite to eat before heading back to bed. I drove up to the little barbeque stand up the street (a little bit katy-cornered across from the Sequatchie County High School) and got a large pork sandwich for about $4.50 and was set for the day. This was piled with about a pound of succulent, sweet pork shoulder smoked to perfection and came with a small tub of hot (not flaming, but spicy) sauce.
My god, that was good.
If they ever get proper BBQ and baseball in England I will never need to tread this forsaken land again.
It really doesn’t take a lot of effort to make a good pizza. You don’t have to use homemade sauce, fresh toppings, a hand spun yeast crust, or even a non-industrial byproduct excuse for cheese. Granted, the more of those boxes you tick, the harder it becomes to fuck up the pie. Andy’s Pizza, however, goes that extra mile to make an especially unpalatable pizza, with gobs of rubber eraser-like cheese on top of a soggy, bland crust, topped with a few chewy mushrooms and a few very salty olives (enough on the whole pie to just about make a slice’s worth at most other restaurants).
But, the place was crowded, or at least seemed crowded with the two tables of morbidly obese regulars. Well, not so unusually fat for the local populace but (I kid you not) the guy who came up to pay his tab while I waited for my order completely blocked a 4 foot wide hallway and quite approximated the shape of an egg as he banged against the wall opposite the side of whichever foot he was stepping out with. Lovely.