MEMPHIS!

I started daydreaming about Memphis a week before the trip was even a sure thing.

Because I’ve always loved New Orleans, the history of the place, the sound of jazz and smells of rich food wafting into the streets, I thought I might also enjoy Memphis.  Besides, who isn’t a fool for BBQ & Elvis?!

I still haven’t forgiven my mother for not letting me go to an Elvis’ concert with my best friend in 1976.  Yes, I was in the 4th grade, but it was a birthday gift from her mother!  As I researched and planned the Memphis trip, I realized that visiting Graceland was not an option –too structured for a road trip.  Generally, I choose a few things I’m interested in and just go with it, letting the rest of the trip spontaneously unfold.  For some reason, the idea of keeping a ‘schedule’ seems to suck the fun out of things.

However, the route to Memphis, Tennessee took me straight through Tupelo, Mississippi –Elvis’ birthplace.  At the time of Elvis’ birth in 1935, the town was commonly known as “the roughest town in north Mississippi”.  It was a great stop.  In less than twenty minutes I saw the house and rode around the town where Elvis had wandered the streets as a kid.

The two room shotgun house was built by Elvis’ father, uncle and grandfather.

plaqElivis birthplace

 The Presley family car, 1935.

P car in Tupelo MS

It was late evening when I arrived in Memphis and not having any particular destination in mind I just enjoyed walking around downtown.  Beale Street was already blocked off and lit up like a Christmas tree.  Doors to the bars were thrown open wide and sure enough the heavy rhythmic sounds from local Blues bands lingered in the street.

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But, I had other plans and headed into A. Schwab. When I was browsing the net I’d discovered the establishment had recently reintroduced an old-time soda bar. Immediately I’d set my heart on having an egg cream soda.  *An egg cream doesn’t have egg in it at all but rather cream, soda water, chocolate or vanilla flavoring.  As I strolled through the store, I found a couple of really nice hats and a metal paddle-car that would be great fun for the grandbaby. The place retains the charming feel of another time; perhaps it is the smell of old wood.  Abraham Schwab, a Jewish immigrant, opened the store in 1876.  In 1912 he moved it to its current location on 163 Beale Street where it is now the last original business.

True to form, I got carried away in my browsing -there are so many little nooks and crannies just filled with all sorts of things.  I decided to return after dinner, thinking there would still be room for dessert.

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Let me take a minute to say that if you have never been to Memphis, you may love Beale Street.  It is bright, loud and covered up with folks out to have a good time.  However, other than a stroll to take it all in, I am not a Beale Street kind of girl.  I am smitten with Main Street though!

 amain at night

 

 

 

 

 

 

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While roaming around Main Street I came across the Flying Saucer Draught Emporium at 130 Peabody Place and decided to have a small sample of a few. The perks of walking around downtown Memphis are indeed great!

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I fell hard for the Murphy’s Irish Stout.  I also had the small sample of the Belhaven Black and a Spatan Lager.  They were good, but Murphy’s was much better~

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Beer finished, I headed back to 138 Beale Street & Blues City Cafe for the Gumbo Cheese Fries, a PBR & the tamales with a cup of chili -the bartender presented a plate that was monstrous.

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I am now a huge fan of Blues City Cafe!  The atmosphere is great and I honestly think that sitting at the tiny bar to the back made it even better!

achiliThere is a huge plate glass window separating the little bar (so cozy) from the rest of the cafe, so you can see everyone dining with family and still be snug as a bug.  It was a packed house, but the bartender got my appetizer in record time and warned me about ordering more food before I had the fries.

The gumbo is poured across the top before they are topped with shredded cheese….

I can’t even begin to describe how good they are!

 

 

 

 

 Saturday Morning –

photo (32)  city market

Out and about the night before I found City Market Groceries & Deli at 66 Main Street and realized they had a coffee bar.  So that is where I was first thing -real espresso & real cappuccinos!   I grabbed fresh baked sausage and chicken biscuits and sat at the bar that looked out over Main Street to watch the early morning joggers freeze their crazy asses off.  It is truly shocking how many there were… If I lived in Memphis, I’d be here every morning, sipping cappuccino, doing a little writing and counting.

The first stop for the day was probably the thing I was most excited about.  I know how odd it sounds but I always visit a cemetery when I travel to a new city.  The information I found on Elmwood Cemetery had me rushing through breakfast.

aelmwoodgateElmwood Cemetery is open every day of the year 8 a.m. – 4:30 p.m. and is located at 824 S. Dudley Street.  It was literally a hop, skip and a jump from downtown.  I arrived and pulled into the cottage and went in to purchase a driving tour.  I was not expecting a history lesson or for my new friends to pull out the copy of the deed.  Nor did I expect a rub-down from Howard the resident cat.    deed

The cemetery was established in 1852, but many of the tombstones are much older as they were moved from other cemeteries throughout the city.  Elmwood is an example of a garden cemetery, set up in a park-like layout that includes “sweeping vistas, shady knolls, large stands of ancient trees, and magnificent monuments.”  No kidding, it is beautiful.

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An hour driving tour is not what you’re really in for, unless you never get out of the car.  I stopped and walked so often and hit replay on the audio because I couldn’t trust that what I had heard was accurate, that it took me almost four hours!   pan elmwood

beautiful elmwood

 

 

 

 

Some of my favorite stories were about a madam who later turned her ‘mansion’ of pleasure into a hospital during the yellow fever epidemic; a lesbian tryst that ended with a slit throat- poor Alice; the tale about moved Union coffins, chalked-in names and unexpected rain.  And, of course, Shelby Foote’s burial site. Every Southerner knows Shelby Foote –our Civil War historian.  He is buried next to Nathan Bedford Forrest’s family plot. The general and his wife are no longer buried at Elmwood. (…and suddenly I knew that my next novel would be set in Memphis & got the briefest glimpse of my protagonist!)

shhh elmaagravegreat

More than 75,000 people are buried in Elmwood. When the site lists “soldiers of the American Revolution through Vietnam, mayors, governors, senators, madams, blues singers, suffragists, martyrs, Union generals, Confederate generals, civil rights leaders, holy men and women, outlaws and millionaires” it means it!  There are over 1,000 Confederate soldiers and veterans buried in the Confederate Soldier’s Rest.

 

 

 

*****

LUNCH ran late…but there were several places I wanted to try!  Lucky for me THRILLIST ran their first issue on Memphis several days before I left.

aaainsidebar    pim cheese fries

I headed to The Second Line in Midtown for some “simple, authentic New Orleans fare”. I had roast beef po’boy on my mind -but I just couldn’t have one if it wasn’t at MOTHER’S in NO.  So… I decided on an order of the andouille, crawfish & pimento cheese fries. (And if I’ve neglected to mention it before, a take-home box is always presented with the meal. I have this thing about sampling and then taking much of it to go.) Besides, another place was calling my name – loudly!

 

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Although I had not admitted it yet, my heart was set on eating at Hog & Hominy in East Memphis.

hog & hominy

 

I’d heard about the wood-fired Red Eye Pizza – with pork belly, celery leaves, fried egg and fontina.

 

 

 

The Red Eye PizzaJ. Cole with Southern Living Magazine ranked them  #4 in “The South’s Best New Restaurants” in 2013 with food created by chefs Andrew Ticer and Michael Hudman. (They won the 2013 Food & Wine Best New Chefs award.) The two are known for combining their  “Italian Roots with Southern cooking” and have just launched a new cookbook.

 collardsI agreed to their small samples of beer while I waited on the Red Eye, trying the Wise Kung Fu Draft, Mama’s LIttle Yellow Pill & Wise Tiny Bomb Draft.  The pizza ended up being one of the best I’ve ever had!! That’s saying a lot considering I grew up in Gadsden, Alabama feasting on Mater’s pizza.  The charred crust added to the smokiness of the pork and it was surprising how much flavor the celery leaves added. pb pie

My waitress made sure to tell me the recipe for the peanut butter pie was in the cookbook!  The bottom layer was like cheese cake.  It and a slight saltiness of the crust cut the sweet of the peanut butter; a layer of fresh sliced bananas separated the two.  It was ice cold & divine!

 Rather than venture out again later that evening, I opted to stay in and watch old WWII movies.  Sunday morning I awakened to a downpour, reevaluated & adjusted my plans and headed back to Bama.  A box of French pastries from la baguette on 3083 Poplar Ave & a couple of lottery tickets eased my angst at having missed the Peabody Ducks and breakfast at the Arcade Restaurant, Memphis’ oldest cafe.

So, another trip to Memphis will be necessary!   I intend to see the Peabody ducks parade through their grand hotel and there are several more places I want to eat.  Let’s not forget I didn’t get my egg cream soda!   And upon awakening, I’ve decided that Memphis is the perfect location for the novel I will begin working on…

…the reasons for another visit just keep adding up.

A moment of weakness

 

 

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*****

ELIZABETH MOZLEY

@ElizabethMozley  &  @CentipedeYAread

And on Facebook – We Share the Same Sky, author Elizabeth Mozley

We Share the Same Sky, a memoir

https://www.amazon.com/Elizabeth-Mozley/e/B00J7KJWIU

The Lure of a Road Trip~

I think for me, the love of a road trip began at a very early age.

Most Sundays after church, the family would load up in the car with snacks and a cold soda for a long ride in the country.  Not that my brother, Oba, or I ever complained but when we’d ask why we were going Papa always replied, “Gas is cheap”.  And, we didn’t always know where we were going.  The parents didn’t even know.  Mother would explain that we were just getting out for a while, getting away and although they were not sure where we were going, they were sure we would all enjoy it.

carAnd, we did!

There are also the memories of Florida getaways.  I’m not just talking about the vacation itself, but the drive.  Papa never took the interstate.  He chose the back roads because they were more appealing.  Sure, the interstate offered a speedy trip, but it killed any chance of feeding the senses.  Looking back, I’m not sure we ever went the same way twice.  But, it was glorious.  Oba and I didn’t sit in the back seat and ask, “How much longer?”  We were keen observers of our surroundings and stayed on the look-out for something fun to do. My parents made the trip down as much fun as the time we spent  on the beach.  No one watched the clock.  There was no rush.  We stopped at Civil War Memorials, old historic hotels, well-known restaurants and hole-in-the-wall eateries –and almost every farmer’s market we could find!  Papa always took a cooler. Oba and I constantly begged for a ripe watermelon.  These were usually sold out of the back of a farmer’s pickup truck. Mother had a thing for fresh roasted peanuts.  I wanted mine Cajun boiled.

I never know when the desire to roam will overwhelm me.  But, I’m always ready –drop of the hat, right here right now, ready!  When it hits, it hits hard.  And, it’s not always at an opportune time.   Here it is Christmas, and that desire to go exploring has taken hold, a strong hold, and it’s not letting go.

There is just something invigorating and exciting about the spur-of-the-moment, a flip of the coin decision to GO!  It doesn’t even have to be a new place for me.  There are cities and towns for which my appreciation will never wane.

Perhaps, revisiting a beloved city is even better than experiencing the new. There are the familiar things you love that draw and entice.

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I want to feel the excitement of anticipation; pull clothes from the closet, roll them and fill my old military duffle; pick a place, purchase a ticket and climb on board the train then sit and watch through the window as the landscape slides by, or read a good book, think about the things I am going to do.

                                                I want to stand on the subway platform in Manhattan and listen to the street musicians; ice skate at Rockefeller Plaza with the kids; take a midnight Christmas at Rockefeller Center, 2008taxi ride around downtown.

 

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I want to rise early in New Orleans and peek into private courtyards…

run my hands along old iron-work…photo (1)

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wait in line at Café du Monde for beignets and cafe au lait with the grandbaby.

 

 

 

 

I want to hike Mt. Rainer in the snow again, and wander Seattle…aaaaaaaaaaa

 

 

 

 

 

have fresh oysters and purchase succulent dates that are the size of my thumb at Pike Place Market…aaa

                                                        see San Francisco with my husband for the first time.

 

I want to walk in NYC pon a beautiful winter night with snowflakes falling, holiday lights flashing…

 

 

sip hot chocolate in Central Park under the moonlight &…

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As often happens when the desire to roam strikes at an inopportune time, I return to my journals hoping to fill the need if only a little.

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JOURNAL of a time in Central Park that did not make it into the memoir, We Share the Same Sky.

At last, I have found a place that bears a resemblance to home-Central Park.  I cannot live without trees, trees and leaves -oh, beautiful leaves.  I reach up and pluck one from a nearby low-hanging limb.  My intentions are to press it, and put it away in a book so that one day when it is pulled down from its shelf, the page will fall open to this reminder, a token of a worthwhile week in the city.  The words to my favorite Walt Whitman poem dance across my mind. 

“…All alone stood it, and the moss hung down from the branches; without any companion it grew there, uttering joyous leaves of dark green…”

The light here in the park is different than in the city.  The beauty of nature reflects it differently.  Or perhaps it is that the light is absorbed more, rather than reflected.  And the sounds are familiar.  I can hear the laughter of children at play on the lawn, birds in the distance calling to one another from beneath the overhang of tree limbs.  Like the children, they too are dancing, chirping.  And suddenly, as though from nowhere in particular, I am hungry for home.

 Cheaha Lake, December 2014Mt. Cheaha Lake, December 2014. Photo by Lakeside Living editor, Buddy Roberts.

 

*****

ELIZABETH MOZLEY

@ElizabethMozley  &  @CentipedeYAread

And on Facebook – We Share the Same Sky, author Elizabeth Mozley

We Share the Same Sky, a memoir

https://www.amazon.com/Elizabeth-Mozley/e/B00J7KJWIU