Rail and Road Trip 2011

When planning this massive field trip across the South we both realized that the journey was just as important as the destination. We decided to rent a cabin on Amtrak's Sunset Limited from Los Angeles to San Antonio. We would then rent a car and drive to New Orleans, Memphis and Nashville. Armed with books, games and some trusty Tennessee honey whiskey, the 33 hour train ride was an experience I would recommend to anyone.

Music appreciation was a major influence in picking our destinations so Jesse's well-versed dad compiled playlists for us that included train songs, open road tunes, and entire compilations of San Antonio, New Orleans and Memphis soul, blues, and good old fashioned rock and roll.

This is a pretty good representation of the terrain that encompassed us from Arizona onward. What it lacked in diversity it made up in simple, understated beauty.

San Antonio is home to one of Jesse's close friends and spending time with her and her son was a highlight of the trip. While we were a bit disappointed to learn Texas' severe drought would prevent any fireworks festivities, we still celebrated in classic 4th of July fashion: BBQ and pool party with Theresa's delightful family.

Our first non-train meal of the trip and a battle royale between San Antonio's Tex-Mex and the LA cuisine we know and love. We came for fluffy tacos but unfortunately walked away (perhaps predictably) disappointed. It was good, but can't possibly to compare to our superior taco trucks (not to mention Mexican grandmothers).

Sam here was an excellent tour guide and spent much of our time together in awe of his buddy Green Shirt.

As Matt quipped: you should create a foursquare location for the basement.

The good news? I found my dream boots. The bad news? They were $300.

My Texas dance hall itch has officially been scratched. Unfortunately, like the most pesky itches, scratching this one only made it worse. On a related note, anyone know any good Texas two-step instructors?

A quick stop for a walk along the river, some duck spotting, and some hipster posing.

Also, nerd alert: There's a fascinating Wikipedia page on the Pearl Brewing Company. You know, if you're into that sorta thing: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pearl_Brewing_Company

The jury is still out (these decisions can't be made lightly) but this just might be the best non-rib BBQ of the entire trip. Tender brisket, juicy sliced pork, spicy vinegar sauce, tangy slaw, a simple slice of pure white bread, and perfectly tart lemonade to wash it all down.

This was a mistake, but at least it was a creamy one.

Okay, so I didn't get to go to Austin on this trip (ACL '12 or bust!) but I did drive through Austin County, that kinda counts right?

Texas is WIDE, y'all.

This Cajun restaurant in the crawfish capital of the world was high on our list of places to visit, but unfortunately our timing wasn't quite right. We arrived in Breaux Bridge still quite full from a quick road meal and anxious to get settled in New Orleans, still a two hour drive away. We popped our head in, saw that it was dead (save a few regulars at the bar) and decided to move on. Shame though, the stage looked promising and I never did get that crawfish or fried alligator...

A perfectly adequate (and probably fairly standard) French Quarter hotel with an awesome balcony, perfect for doing makeup and viewing the flash floods and lightning storm that chase you from the Mississippi River to your room in the middle of the day.

Our first (and only?) fancy New Orleans meal. Note to self: not always a good idea to accompany your two cocktails with decadently rich, creamy seafood au gratin followed by butter...I mean bread...pudding. Not if you plan on being a non-comatose traveling buddy on your first night in N'awlins.

Arguably the liveliest bar we visited, especially for a Wednesday night, and the best damn drinks of the whole trip. Jesse got a Jamesons 12-year (yes, I swooned) and I had the crispest cider this side of Kings Cross. We split (60/40, of course) a double sweet tea vodka mixed with water and lemon juice, which reminds me: must pick up bottle of sweet tea vodka and lemons.

I just found out there's a YouTube channel for this dedicated New Orleans/Louisiana specific independent music store that we trekked through semi-flooded streets to get to. It's definitely worth spending some time on: http://www.youtube.com/profile?user=lamusicfactory

If really pressed, I might say this was my favorite meal. The debris po' boy is my kinda good eats: roast beef pieces that fall into the gravy while baking in the oven scooped onto perfect bread, the ideal vehicle to absorb all the flavor. The accompanying jambalaya and red beans and rice were also perfection; the best of each that I had on this trip.

If there's an aquarium or a zoo around, chances are I'll beg to visit. Fortunately, it never came to that.

Something just feels really right about listening to Dixieland jazz floating up the Mississippi River and sipping on a zesty Bloody Mary while the sun sets.

Another very tasty, somewhat fancy meal accompanied by mint juleps, a technically proficient jazz band and a very...um, let's say enthusiastic...owner.

We ended up at the Spotted Cat twice, probably the only place on our whole trip that got seconds (other than Café Du Monde). It definitely had a more hip, youthful scene, the Silverlake of New Orleans if you will. Cheap beer, decent bands, and a piano in the women's bathroom. What more could you want?

Coffee and beignets. Believe the hype.

This shop is the coolest non-museum museum I've ever visited. I was particularly fond of the 19th century medical and astronomy tools, but the Civil War-era obsolete bank notes and intricate firearms were mighty impressive too.

A beautiful, ornate cemetery built in 1833 with above ground tombs, a necessity due to parts of New Orleans being below sea level. Lots of Civil War casualties buried here, as well as many children who didn't make it to their first birthday. http://www.lafayettecemetery.org/lafayette-cemetery-history

Fun fact: I stumbled and bleed on some hallowed ground, if that's not the start of a voodoo horror story I don't know what is...

After a brutally hot walk through the unshaded cemetery and quite a few blocks across the Garden District, this was a hard earned meal that included some perfect gumbo and fried green tomatoes.

I naively thought this was impressive by Garden District standards. I was so blown away by what we later saw on the trolley along St. Charles I didn't even think to pull out my camera. Probably for the best really.

Three words: tabasco spiked pralines.

Our last night in New Orleans brought us traditional zydeco music, $2 local brewed beer, epic people watching and bowling. Even if I lost (twice) this was still one of the most fun nights I had in the Big Easy.

I was promised sno-cones and let it be known that despite a few setbacks, Jesse delivered. $2 cups of nectar and amaretto flavored bliss were awesome. Having our rental car's side mirror roughed up on an obnoxiously narrow street in the process...decidedly less awesome.

Birthplace of America's Music

We're goin' to Jackson, ain't never comin' back...

I'm not gonna lie, I'm kinda craving one of their REFRESHING watermelon icey things right about now...

We couldn't afford to stay at the Peabody, but we did get a nice view of their sign.

I have a strong suspicion that eating at Jesse's favorite BBQ joint was his motivation for our entire trip. I am very happy to announce: it was worth it. While I am in no way a ribs connoisseur, this meal knocked my socks off (and yes, that includes the perhaps ill-advised plate of BBQ nachos) so much so that I had to request another round of my own half order. The pitcher of beer was icing on the cake. Or rather, BBQ sauce on the ribs.

Ducks! That walk on the red carpet! To a fountain! In the middle of the hotel lobby! Set to music! How cool is that??

Memphis' oldest cafe, built in 1919. It's on the register of historic places and quite a few films were shot here: http://www.arcaderestaurant.com/about.html

A somber and important stop on our tour of Memphis. In all the excitement of music and food, I almost overlooked the civil rights battles that took place along the way.

Okay, so I got a little carried away during our tour of Sun Studio, perhaps my favorite stop on the whole trip. They say it's the birthplace of rock and roll and I am inclined to believe it.

I'm going to Graceland, Graceland in Memphis, Tennessee. But when we got there, the lines were ridiculous, the heat unbearable, and the ticket prices outrageous. It's just as well, it would have ultimately been a disappointment after the Sun Studio tour. So we just browsed through a photo book and called it a day.

It was the oft recommended Central BBQ versus Rendezvous for ribs supremacy and I think we both walked away agreeing that while Central had slightly more tender and juicy meat, Rendezvous had the superior flavor, from the dry rub to the tangy sauce.

They make guitars here.

I probably could have spent all day here not listening to the lectures on the audio tour but rather the music they queued up for each exhibit. A very well thought out, densely curated history of both country roots and Memphis soul; a combined effect that gently demonstrated how they're not so different after all.

We both were itching for either a great rockabilly band or some kind of bluegrass group to round out our music tour and based on the description it seemed like we might have found the former here. The mid-town bar itself was pretty cool albeit in a yuppified part of the city, but by the time the band finally pulled it together we weren't feeling very forgiving towards the poor sound quality. Oh well, at least they had a banjo, right?

This was, perhaps, the most divetastic bar I have ever been to - and I mean that in the warmest possible way. I'll let this Esquire article I found do all the talking:

Upstairs was once a noisy brothel; a couple of barflies have apparently turned out to be ghosts. And there you have it, just another all-American dry-goods-store-turned-watering-hole, where God knows how many broken hearts have been avenged and vendettas executed. Maybe that's the genesis of naming the Soul Burger, which they cook up behind the bar and which both the tourists and regulars hunt down with great expectations. The jukebox is, of course, legendary, packed deep with Memphis soul and funk and country. Doors open at five, and the buzz here doesn't pick up until about midnight, but if you're in the know, or are a curious first-timer, you can creep upstairs and snoop through the old brothel, duck into various rooms laid out with retro vinyl sofas and damaged kitchen tables that all looks rather morbid under the dim blue lights, where even the emptiness reeks of seedy doings. Keep snooping, down the hall, toward the room at the far corner, where the bar's neon sign outside the window provides just enough light, and where you'll find Nate, a black septuagenarian bartender who's just...well...waiting for you, even at the dullest hours. It's as if you somehow died on the stairs and the River's edge. And here’s old Karen listening to a small radio with the volume set low, not really much louder than the buzz of the sign, ready with a stygian brew. You drink your brew, and you can either talk to him or just sit there, he doesn't really seem to care either way. But if you do get him talking, there's badass local history to be gleaned, for sure.

Read more: http://www.esquire.com/bestbars/bb-ernestine-and-hazels#ixzz1RrgIpjKR

In hindsight, I'm not sure it was a good idea to even stop in Nashville. It whetted a thirst but now I just crave more. Wilco is playing the Ryman in October. Hmm...

Kitschy country decor, a decent burger, a tight and twangy backup band led by a plucky female singer who compensated for what she lacked in vocal prowess with awkward charm? Swoon. I really dug this place and I am told it's only the surface of what Nashville honky tonks have to offer. Make no mistake, I will be back.

Sigh. Do we have to go home already?

And so it ends, we arrive home to a freezing Los Angeles exhausted and battered and utterly enchanted with all we experienced.