Aretha Frankensteins

Aretha Frankensteins
518 Tremont St. (Chattanooga)
(423) 265-7685

My Facebook friends who live in Chattanooga are always talking about a place called Aretha Frankensteins. There was no way I was leaving Chattanooga without eating there. Aretha's is located on the North side of Chattanooga, across the Tennessee River, where all of the hipsters live. It's one of those places that is super local and just can't be duplicated. It's like Brother Juniper's, but dare I say, cooler.

Aretha's serves breakfast, lunch, dinner, espresso, and beer. It's open from 7am to midnight everyday. These facts alone make it awesome in my book. Word on the street is that breakfast is the time to go, so we made plans to go on a Sunday morning. I knew that this would likely be a super busy time, but with such a short visit, it was then or never.

Thanks to Google maps we found it without too much trouble. It's nestled inside a very quirky, Cooper-Youngish neighborhood in an old house. It's pretty small, and it was a bit too cold to sit on the lovely patio, so we kept our fingers crossed as we approached. Turns out it was full, but there were only two people ahead of us in line. A waiter came over and took our name and said it would be about 15 minutes. He pointed to a family at the bar and said they were almost done and we could sit in their seats when they left. I was worried we might miss our pre-booked River Gorge ride on the other side of the river, but the waiter said we'd have time. I took his word for it and tried to relax.

We crouched in the doorway and took in the decor. There were lots of kitschy and spooky things hanging on (and from) the walls. I'm assuming that the spooky things are permanent considering the restaurant's name, but they might have been Halloween related. As we waited, more and more people started showing up. Some ordered coffee and drank it on the porch, others patiently chatted on the patio. I asked for a menu to peruse while we waited. We started planning our orders so we could be in and out.


The family at the bar finished up soon after, and we happily took their spots. The bar was expansive and so were the chairs. They were like big leather armchairs on stilts. Satchel and Jiro were getting a little loud with each other so I sat between them. They didn't like this, but I didn't budge. A cute little woman with a "Chattaboogie" t-shirt took our drink orders (coffee, Diet Coke, 2 waters) and Warren and I finalized the food order. Satchel wanted biscuits and gravy; Jiro wanted a breakfast burrito with eggs, cheese, and sausage; and Warren wanted the Polish omelette with sausage and peppers. I felt like someone should get pancakes, so a slim stack was my order by default. (Had I done a better job of examining the menu, I would have certainly ordered someone the Elephants Gerald which is a Belgian waffle topped with ice cream and pecans.)

To keep the very hungry and increasingly antsy monkeys busy, I let them take pictures with my camera and design various shapes and structures with toothpicks. Satchel and I could also see in the kitchen were a young man was making the biscuits. Above the kitchen door was a melted keyboard, which Warren and I found interesting. A little digging and I discovered that Aretha's burnt down a few years ago and had to be rebuilt, so it is likely a remnant. I also read, but did not actually see, that there is a table that is a working Pac Man game. Too bad we didn't sit there!

Our food came out in a timely fashion and we all dug in. Satchel's biscuits and gravy, despite being a half order, were huge! He ate every bite! Jiro's burrito was huge too, but he only made a dent in it. He was distracted my his large side of breakfast potatoes and his very own biscuit. Warren was too far away for me to get a good look at his breakfast, but he reported that it was tasty. My pancakes, also gigantic, were really, really good. So good, in fact, that I ate them plain. That's right, plain. (The pancake mix is sold in stores, and I can definitely see why.)

Our tab came to $28. We all had full bellies and a ton of leftovers (except Satchel). As we walked out, I couldn't believe how many people were waiting to get in. We definitely lucked out and beat the rush. Had we not been in a hurry to catch the boat, I would have insisted on strolling through the neighborhood. (I saw one house with a fence made of old bicycles!)

For the rest of our visit, Satchel asked at least 50 times if we could go back to Aretha's. I really wished we could.

Prince’s Hot Chicken (Nashville)

Prince’s Hot Chicken
123 Ewing Dr
Nashville, TN
(615) 226-9442



As we headed toward Chattanooga a couple of Saturdays ago, Warren suggested I consult our Road Food book for a good place to eat around Nashville. Seeing how I’d been getting up at 5:30am to work out at Memphis Adventure Boot Camp for five weeks, I decided I needed a treat and honed right in on the hot (fried) chicken places. The Sterns recommended both Bolton’s and Prince’s. I consulted a Facebook friend who lives in Nashville and decided on Prince’s after she assured me that it would “blow my mind.” I read a few online reviews that were similarly enthusiastic. One guy even said that he had divided his life into two categories--before Prince’s chicken and after.

How could we not go?

As I investigated further, I found out that all of the chicken is made to order and that we should expect at least 45 minutes to an hour to get our food. Reviewers also warned that Prince’s was not in the best of neighborhoods. Some even said our stomachs would burst into flames.

We could not be deterred.

At approximately 5pm, we rolled into the Prince’s parking lot. It was in a strip mall in an area I would liken to Poplar & Hollywood in Memphis. Since my favorite chicken place in Memphis is located at Poplar & Hollywood, I felt that this was a good sign. When we walked in, we were pleased to see that there was not a line. Several people appeared to be waiting and a nice lady selling cake at a back table told us where to order. Warren took the boys to wash up and I set off to procure dinner.

In the very back was a counter that had been boarded up. A small window was cut out and a man stood back there awaiting orders. The man had a gun and was quite imposing. Believe it or not, his name was Sweetie, and he was the security guard. I learned that someone called in sick so he was filling in at the register. There was a woman running around the back, trying to help him, and everyone else, while simultaneously counting a huge stack of cash. (Prince’s is cash only.) A few younger women appeared to be doing the cooking and three little girls were sitting on overturned milk crates playing with someone’s iPhone.

I perused the menu quickly, as I could feel people breathing down my neck as a line began to form. I ordered 1/2 chicken mild for Warren and I to split. (Sweetie put it down as medium, and I wasn’t sure if this made a difference, but I didn’t say anything.) I ordered a 1/4 leg plain for Satchel and Jiro to split. Then I added two orders of fries and one order of slaw for good measure. There was a drink machine next to the window, so I skipped drinks.

I got my number, made a quick bathroom run, and headed to where Warren and the boys were sitting. They managed to secure a booth by the front window. It had a green and pink striped plastic table cloth that wreaked of bleach. Satchel and Jiro were both a bit grumpy from the drive. Warren and Jiro set off to get gas and drinks down the road and Satchel and I held our seats.

Once Jiro was gone, Satchel cheered up immensely. (Jiro has been pushing his buttons a lot lately.) He looked over at a bulletin board with a picture of pit bull puppies. “I want a dog,” he said. I explained we already had two and that was enough. “How about a parrot?” he tried. “Why on earth do you want a parrot?” I asked. “Because they’re fun,” he said. “What’s so fun about a parrot?” I wondered. “They talk and fly around!” he answered. I then launched into my speech on letting wild animals live in the wild, not in cages.

To change the subject, I pointed out a flock of birds resting on a nearby electrical wire. I have some expertise in this area, and told him about the dangers lurking in the wires. This launched us into a discussion of whether the voltage was enough to kill a bird, elephant, giraffe, flower, tiger, the sun, ice cubes, and a tree.

Warren and Jiro returned with a full tank of gas and a couple of drinks. To kill more time, I pulled up pictures from our last trip to Chattanooga to get them excited. A few minutes later our number got called. (It was almost exactly 45 minutes.) By now the place was filling up so I had to fight my way to the front. Everything was handed to me in brown paper bags. I went back to the table and divvied everything up. The chicken was resting on top of several pieces of white bread and had a side of sliced pickles. The 1/4 leg didn’t look like enough for two, but the 1/2 chicken seemed to be plenty for three. (Go figure.) The fries had seasoning on them, but it didn’t stop the kids from eating them so that was good.

After one bite, Warren started choking. His nose was running and his eyes started watering and I thought he might die. “Is it that hot?” I asked, a little scared. In between gasping for breath he explained that he had inhaled a piece and maybe it went down the wrong way. I wasn’t sure. I took a bite of my piece, which came from the same bird, and didn’t think it was really hot at all. In fact, Jiro requested some and minus the skin he was able to eat it with no problem. He ate a few chunks then went back to the fries. Meanwhile, Satchel declared his plain leg to be delicious and set out to eat every bite.

Warren was begging for water, but I hadn’t gotten any and the line was too long to try now. He settled for a $1.25 Diet Coke out of the machine. I was enjoying my chicken, but it was greasy as all get out and I was fixated on the fat grams. The thick skin was crispy and delicious though. Mmmmmmmmm. The meat fell off of the bone and was cooked perfectly. The Sterns said the meat itself was spicy, but I think Jiro proved that wrong. Part of me wished I had ordered the hot.

Here's a hot chicken fun fact: Apparently the fiery recipe was once used to punish men who cheated on their wives. (There must have been a lot of cheaters in Nashville since they have a Hot Chicken Festival every July.)

As Warren and Satchel plugged away and I tried to control myself, Jiro announced that he needed to poop. Awesome. Warren immediately implored him to hold it. “Hold it til when?” I asked. “Until Chattanooga?” Having already visited the bathroom myself, I figured it would be ok. It really didn’t seem that bad. We headed to the back and unfortunately someone was in the women’s room. After (im)patiently waiting a few minutes, we headed to the men’s. (It was a one top.) Obviously someone had “cleaned” the bathrooms since my original visit because there was an intense ammonia smell. Good lord, I thought I might pass out. It was bad. BAD! Thankfully, Jiro was quick and we both survived.

Back at the table Warren was still eating. “Please stop,” I begged. “You’ll go into a hot chicken coma while driving! We still have 3 hours to go before Chattanooga!” He humored me and agreed to pack up the rest for later. (It turned out to be quite tasty at 11pm that night.) Once I packed up all of our leftovers and bussed the table, I swear to you there was a THICK layer of grease on the tablecloth. Yum!

Warren complained Sunday morning that the chicken had come back to haunt him, but you don't want to hear about that. I definitely think you should get some hot chicken the next time you are in Nashville, just don't go crazy!

Happy Mexican

Thanks to Steph for warning us about this place! I've been to the downtown location a few times with good results, but never with monkeys.

Happy Mexican
6080 Primacy Parkway

On a recent week night in East Memphis, I needed a break from cooking and suggested a night out. The family readily agreed. "Pizza or chicken nuggets?" I asked. "Pizza!" Chloe answered, as Connor yelled, "Chicken!" "Uh, chicken!" said Chloe, as she quickly corrected herself to make sure the man in her life was happy, at her own expense. (I've got a ways to go with that one.) Chip looked at me quizzically, as we had both been counting on pizza. "El Porton?" he offered. "Happy Mexican!" I exclaimed. I've been wanting to take the kids to the East Memphis location for quite some time. "You're a genius!" Chip (really!) said, and we were off.

One reason we wanted to visit Happy Mexican was that we love Mexican food and wanted to see where this might fit into our usual Salsa/El Porton rotation. Another reason is because it is in the building that used to house Grady's Goodtimes, a restaurant where I worked for over three years. It's been a few things since Grady's closed, but nothing that has really stuck. We went in, excited to see what they'd done with the place now, taking lots of pictures to use in our review, and generally excited about margarita happy hour and cheese dip. And then we sat down, and it all went downhill from there.

I have to admit, at first I wanted to write a review that said simply, "Don't go there." Then I realized that wasn't fair, and figured it was only right that I explain myself. Here are a few reasons why I'll never be back.

There are TVs everywhere. And they are all showing real programs, not news or sports or the usual nonsense that plays in the background at restaurants. The one closest to our table had the Cartoon Network logo in the bottom corner, so I didn't pay it much mind. Connor (age 6) and I were sitting in chairs that were oriented towards that TV, but I didn't pay it much attention and neither did Connor. But soon I noticed he was watching the reflection of another TV in the window. "That's a bad show," he declared, and realized it was Cops. WTH? I told him not to look in the window, but as I craned my neck to locate the offending TV I realized it was behind a column from my seat, but directly in Chloe's line of sight. I made her switch chairs with me and thought, Hey, it's our fault for bringing kids, we'll make it work. However, as the evening dragged on (more on that later), two things happened. For one thing, the movie on CN turned out to be scary- The Witches, based on the Roald Dahl book and starring Angelica Houston as the head witch at a witch convention. Maybe with a little bit of context, it wouldn't have seemed so scary. However, there were tons of ugly, scary witches who were freaking my kids out! In fact, Connor kept trying to tell Chloe to cover her eyes. He was worried about her. (One review I read said, "VERY frightening for children preteen and below, having as its central theme normal looking, adult women turning into vicious child-killing witches with much intense, well-presented suspense throughout the movie. My kids, 9 and 5, couldn't finish it.")

While this was happening, Cops ended and the next show on TruTv began. The first thing that happened was some kind of group attack on a couple riding on a subway. I stared, mouth agape and stomach turning, until Chip covered my eyes and told me not to watch. He was worried about me. I said, "That is IT!" and marched to the front to ask that the TV channel be turned. I hate to be that woman, but come on! Not only do I not want my kids to see that, but I don't want to see that! I don't know many people who do. But the hostess said, "See, sometimes people ask if they can watch certain shows. . ." I cut her off and declared that no one should be allowed to choose shows like that in a public setting- it is unacceptable and they should consider saying no and adopting some kind of decency standard. There were plenty of kids in the restaurant, not to mention wimps like me who vomit at the first sign of fisticuffs. (Long story.) I was happy, however, that the manager came over, grabbed the remote control, and followed me to change the channel.

Unfortunately, that wasn't the only thing I was complaining to the hostess about. I began my channel-changing request with, "For one thing, we've been waiting forever for our food. . ." It's true- we waited more than a half hour for our food. At a Mexican restaurant! And the food wasn't anything earth-shattering - I can think of at least five other places I could go and get the same quality food in ten minutes. By the time our food came, we had eaten every bite of cheese dip (usually we use it for the chicken strips), two basket of chips, had switched seats, complained to the management, and Chip had finally stood up and turned off the Cartoon Network TV that the kids were unable to look away from yet were terrified by. (I mean, Chloe was literally trembling at one point. Too bad she didn't have any food to distract her.)


I couldn't help but overhear the ladies behind us say, "The food is okay, but the service is horrible! He hasn't been back to check on us (ditto) and we never got our cheese dip." This is not to mention that the person delivering their food had dropped an entire meal at their table. The ladies were gracious and agreed to share a plate until the other dish could be remade. (I couldn't help but think it would have been easier to handle if they had some cheese dip.)

When we finally saw our server, I made sure to give him our credit card so that I wouldn't have to spend another hour tracking down the bill. We spent $35 on average-tasting food that took too long to hit the table in a horrible atmosphere. We couldn't get out of there fast enough, waving a permanent good-bye to the Happy Mexican as we hastily departed.

Caminos de Michoacan

Caminos de Michoacan Panaderia & Taqueria
3896 Macon Road
458-5550

We first noticed Caminos de Michoacan when we ate at El Ranchito Taqueria a few weeks ago. We thought it was a bakery--and it is, but when I was researching my Macon Me Crazy story for the Flyer, I went in and discovered it was a bakery and a taqueria. After sampling the pastries and tacos for my story, I was anxious to get back with the monkeys (Satchel, 7, and Jiro, 5).

We went on a Saturday night and found the brightly colored and well lit restaurant to be only mildly busy. There were three or four other tables full, which is respectable, but it felt empty since the place is huge and has seating for 70! I let the monkeys walk past the pastry cases in order to motivate them to eat their dinner. They both immediately set about pointing and saying, "I want that!" With a variety of sugar cookies (even pig shaped!), muffins, croissants, donuts, and parfaits to choose from, dessert was not going to be an easy decision!

I told them they could take another look after dinner and we headed to a table. The monkeys were psyched to see that "The Hulk" was on TV. A nice waitress came right over with a basket of chips, green and red salsa. (The green is crazy hot!) She asked for our drink orders and Jiro immediately signaled that he wanted a Tutti Fruiti Jarrito. (He loves those Jarritos!) Satchel, who usually opts for water, requested a Pineapple Jarrito. Getting into the spirit, Warren suggested we try a horchata, which is a milky drink spiced with cinnamon. I also ordered some cheese dip to appease the monkeys.

When the waitress came back with our wares, I tried to make conversation. "What's up with the pig shaped cookie?" I asked. She shrugged and said, "Nothing." I was hoping for a funny explanation, but I think the language barrier was preventing me from getting one. The monkeys dove right into the cheese dip and Satchel pondered, "Why does cheese dip have to taste so good?" Believe me, I wish I knew!

After much debate and a fine combing of the menu (which thankfully includes English translations), we decided on the following: chicken soup for Satchel (He loves soup!), chicken flautas for Jiro, guisado pork for Warren, and a chicharon taco and shrimp tostada for me. Our wait was short and uneventful thanks to the Hulk and the promise of sweets.


For whatever reason, Jiro shunned his flautas. I think they may have been too close to the avocado garnish. He ended up eating rice wrapped in a tortilla. (Satchel ate his avocado and one flauta.) Satchel's soup was really quite impressive. It was filled with fresh broccoli, cauliflower, squash, green beans, corn on the cob, and chicken. He was in heaven. Warren liked his pork, but said he didn't expect it to come with bones. I was a little disappointed by my order. The chicharon, or pork rinds, were covered in a green sauce that I wasn't too crazy about. Likewise the shrimp tostada had a little too much cocktail sauce mixed in for my taste. Warren gladly ate my rejects while I ate the rest of Jiro's. (Next time I think we'll all try more soup, which appears to be their specialty.)

At some point during dinner, the Hulk got switched off and soccer got switched on. And we saw the best Mexican mullet ever. (Warren then coined the term "mulleto.") Satchel bit his finger instead of the chicken and had a moment, but thankfully recovered enough to finish his meal. (This provided the 1000th opportunity to explain the importance of eating with utensils.) We had a trip to the bathroom, which was not the cleanest ever, but acceptable.

When we were all done, I told the monkeys they could pick out their dessert--or go next door for an ear of corn. "Corn?" they asked as if it was too good to be true. "We want corn!" (I think the very popular horchata satisfied our sweet teeth.)

So off we went next door.

Tamales Monterrey
Best Z Market, 3888 Macon
864-9414

We learned on our last visit that corn (and tamales) are only sold on Friday and Saturday. Each ear is slathered with mayonnaise, cotija cheese, and then squirted with lime and cayenne pepper if you choose. It's the best $3 you'll ever speand. Trust me.

Warren had the genius idea of pulling his car around so we could tailgate. It was the perfect solution for a very messy treat. Jiro and I both got spicy corn and Satchel opted for plain.

Vien Dong

Vien Dong
36 N. Cleveland
274.9995

On Friday night we once again we found ourselves hungry and in search of somewhere good to eat. I decided to let Warren choose since it was technically his birthday weekend. Letting him choose isn't always the best idea. He is a Libra and is not good at making quick decisions.

Exhibit A: He asked me where I wanted to go even though I told him it was his choice. "No Mexican!" he added. "Okay, how about Sekisui?" I said. Sekisui is our fall back.

He thought about that. "Let's get some noodles," he suggested. "Okay," I agreed. He turned to the kids. "Do you want to eat Vietnamese food?"

"NO!" Shouted Satchel. "I want to stay home and eat Ramen."

"You can get noodles at the restaurant," I said. "And you can have fishcake in them!" He'd been fantasizing about fish cake for a couple of days.

"Yay!" he said.

"But I don't want fishcake," Jiro said in a small voice.

"I'll get you some chicken wings," I said.

Another cheer.

As we neared the intersection of Poplar & Cleveland, Warren said, "Saigon Le or Shanghai?" Jiro was in the middle of telling me something, so it took me a minute to say, "Shanghai." I wanted some Thai food!

"We just passed it!" he complained. I pointed out that he could, in fact, turn around, or that I would be happy to go to Saigon Le. (Saigon Le is our second fall back.)

Seeing that he wanted to try something new and exciting, I added, "There's that other Vietnamese place on the other side of Cleveland." (Technically we had also passed Pho Vietnam, rendering it "Not an option.")

He perked up. "Let's do a drive-by," he said excitedly.

We peered in the windows and it looked pretty empty, but not completely empty. It also looked pretty nice. "Let's do it," I said.


The monkeys were both engrossed in a game of who knows what on Jiro's DSi. They asked if they could bring it in and I made an exception. "Only if you don't fight and you turn it off when it is time to eat," I said.

We were greeted by a nice Vietnamese woman when we opened the door and left to our own devices to choose a table. There was a small gathering of people near the front of the restaurant watching a nice flat screen TV, so we opted to sit in a booth on the other side of the restaurant where it would be quiet.

"Do you think this place is bigger than Pho Vietnam?" I asked. "Nah," Warren said. "I think this used to be the old Thai market," I said. It closed awhile ago, obviously, because Warren had no idea what I was talking about. The restaurant was very large and well lit with long fluorescent tubes. Along the back wall was a row of freezers. "Yep, grocery store," I said.

An elderly woman brought us some menus and took our drink orders. I indicated that water was fine and made a motion to show that it would be fine for the monkeys too. Warren asked for hot tea. Then we tackled the menu. It looked pretty basic--pho, vermicelli, etc. I noticed that they didn't have the two things I normally order--vermicelli with egg rolls and lemongrass beef--so I decided to figure out what to order the kids instead. Chicken wings were on the appetizer menu and they had pho with fish cake so they were good to go. I saw something called shredded pork rolls and asked Warren if he wanted to split an order of that. (Insert pork roll joke here.) Then I pointed out that there were bahn mi sandwiches on the menu. Warren went into a quandary. He wanted vermicelli with fried tofu and a bahn mi. I told him we could share.

A young waitress brought out our water and tea. There were only two waters, so I guess my motioning didn't exactly work out like I planned. No worries, they were big enough for us to share. The waitress didn't speak much English at all, so order required lots of pointing at the menu. Warren made a comment about Bubble Tea (aka "Boba Tea") and Jiro immediately piped in with, "I want coconut bubble tea!" So we got one of those too.

The pork rolls came right out. They looked like spring rolls, but were twice a long, and obviously full of shredded pork rather than shrimp. "Wow, they're so big!" I said. (Wink, wink.) Unfortunately, I was not a fan of the shredded pork. Warren tried to tell me that I should have known that the shredded pork would be fuzzy since we'd had it in another form at Pho Vietnam, but I didn't listen.

Next came the boba tea, which was delicious. Soon we were all fighting over it. When the waitress brought out the piping hot, but not spicy, chicken wings, I ordered a second boba tea. The chicken wings were oddly shaped, but the monkeys didn't seem to mind. They dug right in.

Soon after we had the bahn mi, the tofu vermicelli, and Satchel's pho. Unfortunately the latter had chicken and not fish cake, like we'd ordered. He moped until I got the waitress back over. She had no idea what I was saying. I asked for a menu and was able to work it out. She apologized for not getting it right and had a look of "what now?" I asked her to bring a side of fish cake to put in the soup and all was well. The pho came with a side of noodles and we ordered a side of rice, so there was definitely plenty for everyone to eat.

I have to say that overall I was underwhelmed. I missed my usual dishes and wasn't too interested in anything but the bubble tea. Warren however thought the bahn mi was above par, mostly due to the fresh bread, and went so far as to eat a second one! he also noted that he thought the fish sauce was homemade. He was quite pleased. The kids happily ate their food and would have had another order of chicken wings had I let them.

When I went up to pay, I noticed a plate of sticky buns by the register. Since I hadn't really enjoyed my dinner, I was still on the lookout for something tasty. I asked what was inside and the woman behind the counter had a young man come over and tell me. (He looked like a boyfriend of one of the waitresses, maybe. He was there watching TV.) He told me that it had spicy pork and a little egg inside. It sounded like something Warren might like, so I bought one. (This brought our dinner total up to $40 plus tip.) The woman cut it into four piece and I happily took it to the table. All three boys looked at me, looked at the sticky bun, and said, "I'm not hungry."

I really think that they weren't hungry, but it did look a little weird inside (see picture). The small egg is definitely a quail's egg. It's still in our refrigerator. I may eat it...someday.

Tops Bar-B-Q

Tops Bar-B-Q
1286 Union Ave
725-7527


Last Sunday after spending the afternoon in West Memphis checking out the banks of the Mississippi, we got a hankering for some barbeque. Sunday is not an easy day to find barbeque. We knew not to bother with Cozy Corner (their odd hours vex me), so we headed toward Interstate BBQ. I couldn't believe it when I saw the open sign in the window. However, once inside we realized they closed at 4pm and it was 3:56pm. I thought for sure the Rendezvous would be open since it caters to tourists. Nope. We knew the BBQ Shop was a no go. Just as we were about to give up, we spied the Tops Bar-B-Q on Union, near Cleveland. "It's open!" I hollered as we pulled into the parking lot.

On a normal day, Tops is absolutely packed. On Sunday, not so much. That was fine by me. Usually just find a parking spot is a feat. Not on Sunday. We got pole position. The desolate nature of the parking lot actually concerned us. "Go make sure they are open," Warren suggested. I went inside, looked around, and asked the woman behind the counter. She looked at me a little funny since clearly the door was unlocked and she was eagerly anticipating my order. "Yes, we're open," she said politely. I notified the troops.

I have to say that the thing I like best about Tops is it's funky decor. Most of them--especially along Summer Avenue--are delightfully retro. And they are all totally different. (Believe it or not there are 11 Tops in Memphis! This is also their 57th year of being in business!) I also like how fast they are.

The monkeys were a little fried from our adventures--and apparently thirsty. They ignored my attempts at getting their order ("Burger or BBQ?") and began pawing at the stack of cups. "I'm thirsty!" "I want a drink!" They hollered. I tried in vain to get them under control. Finally, Warren sent them to a table to sit down and shut up. Satchel sadly whimpered that he wanted BBQ. Jiro opted for a "hamburger with sausage and meat and pickles." The woman behind the counter remained calm and smiled pleasantly despite the monkeys' shenanigans and our efforts to control them, which I appreciated. I also appreciated that there were hardly any other customers in sight.

I've been to Tops a few times, but never with the family. I was stressed from the monkeys' bad behavior and didn't have time to study the menu, so I didn't do the best job of ordering. I got all three boys a meal that came with a drink and two sides and just a sandwich for myself. If I had to do it over, I'd get two meals and two sandwiches on the side. That way everyone could have one side. The drinks are all you can drink, so sharing two is plenty. Our tab came to $20, which was a tad high I thought, but I didn't care. I just wanted to eat and leave.

I got everyone a drink and attempted to lift the mood at the table. The quick delivery of our food greatly helped my cause. Soon we were all happily eating and there wasn't a single complaint. I think Warren probably could have eaten two sandwiches, but he got full on Jiro and Satchel's leftovers. I enjoyed my sandwich, but especially enjoyed the fact that my seven-year-old seemed to like barbeque as much as me.

The boys and I did make a quick bathroom trip to wash our hands and it actually wasn't bad. Not sure I'd change a diaper in there, but otherwise it's fine.

Chick-fil-A (Midtown)

Chick-fil-A
1980 Union Ave
272-0511

It's been nearly two years since we ate at a Chick-fil-A, mostly due to the fact that the monkeys declared the chicken "gross" and refused to eat. (Is it true that they marinate it in pickle juice?)

So, imagine my surprise when the monkeys (Satchel, 7, and Jiro, 5) were clamoring to go to Chick-fil-A last Tuesday when I picked them up from school. "Please!" they begged. "Everyone from school is going! Please!" Considering I had seen and heard an abundance of people at school--and frankly all over Midtown--talking about the new Chick-fil-A, I was inclined to believe them. Warren had class and I didn't feel like cooking, so I gave in under the condition that they actually eat their food.

Besides, I was curious to see what the place looked like.

As you may or may not know, the new Chick-fil-A on Union is special. The company agreed to leave the front facade of the old Cumberland Presbyterian Church up after Memphis Heritage lead a fight to preserve the historic structure which was slated for demolition. The company spent more money -- it won't disclose how much -- to grant the community's wish and to have the restaurant's appearance complement the wall.

That's huge.


There's been lots of grumbling--at least among my Facebook friends--about the ridiculousness of the facade, but I'm here to tell you that it's pretty freaking awesome. I expected there to be just bricks on the backside, but it's completely finished and looks like new. There are also very nice lighting fixtures and a delightful seating area behind there. People in the drive through can look through the windows while they wait.

I give it a gigantic, Sissy Hankshaw, nine-inch thumbs up.

Okay, so back to dinner. Before I could discover the beauty behind the facade, I had to get a parking spot--no small task. The parking lot seems to be completely counter intuitive, and with the masses coming out, well, en masse, I had to circle the block twice before finding a place to park. Even though I was in the official Chick-fil-A parking lot, it was still quite a jaunt to get in the building.

As we made our way to the door, Satchel spotted a car that looked like Warren's. "Look! Daddy is here!" he said excitedly.

"Daddy is not here," I replied with a giggle.

"How do you know?" he asked.

"I promise you that Daddy would not tell us he was going to school and then hide out in a Chick-fil-A," I assured him.

Inside, we immediately saw the monkeys' friends from school. While I good-naturedly thanked the parents for having their children exert a fierce amount of peer pressure upon my children, I noticed another friend of mine from roller derby. She appeared to be all alone, but it turned out that her kids were in the playland with the rest of Midtown's under ten population.

Which brings me to my next point. Why don't any of the other chain restaurants in Midtown have playlands? It seems that this fact alone is making Chick-fil-A extremely popular.

By the time I was ready to order, the monkeys were scaling a giant plastic slide, so I decided to make an executive decision and order them whatever I wanted. (It's not like there's a lot of choice involved--chicken or chicken, right?) I'll admit that I had to wait in line longer than I thought necessary. Yes, the place was packed, but no, the girl behind the register didn't quite have her act together. I reminded myself that this particular restaurant had been open for exactly 5 days and to cut her some slack.

I ordered each of the monkeys a 6 piece nugget meal (as opposed to a 2 piece tender meal). I got fruit and white milk for Satchel and waffle fries and chocolate milk for Jiro. (I decided I'd eat at home.) My friend had given me the heads up that my food would be delivered to the table so I joined her and waited. I noticed that there were fresh flowers on the table and my friend confirmed that this was the norm. Nice.

The food came out quite fast and eventually the monkeys took a break from the playland to check it out. Jiro had one fry before disappearing again, but Satchel dutifully sat and ate both his chicken and his fruit. "I want water," he said, eying his milk. Before I could even get one cheek off the seat, a Chick-fil-A "waitress" came over and asked if I needed anything. "Water, please," I said. And then poof! We had water. A few minutes later we needed napkins, and poof! There were napkins.

Now that's what I'm talking about.

Satchel finished his food and went back to play for a bit. Meanwhile, my friend's oldest daughter came over to eat her food. When she was done, she asked if she could trade in her "toy" (which was an activity book of some sort) for ice cream. Huh? My friend, who by now had outed herself as a Chick-fil-A disciple, confirmed that unopened "toys" from kids' meals could be traded in for free ice cream. I used this information to get Jiro to actually finish his dinner on his most recent visit to the table.

Much to my horror, he sat down and put all six of his nuggets in his mouth and chewed them up. He did it before I could stop him, or believe me, I would have! Luckily (?) the nuggets are rather small, so it wasn't too bad. Speaking of, those nuggets sure are small! I really think the kids' meal is more of a "snack" for my giant monkeys.

Once Jiro was done, we said goodbye to his school friends, my friends, and then headed over to the counter to redeem our "toys" for free ice cream. It took an eternity. I'm not exaggerating! I had to make sure that we were all on the same page a couple of times. When we did eventually get the ice cream, the nice young man explained he'd been busy making shakes. I think we just had bad timing all night, but dang. Anyways, the wait time gave me an excuse to send the monkeys to the bathroom to wash their hands. They had managed to get incredibly dirty in the playland and I started getting twitchy about swine flu.

Ice cream in hand, we went to enjoy the outdoor seating area behind the facade. The monkeys thought it was just as cool as I did. Had I let them, they would have been happy to hang out there all night!

I'm sure we'll be back again soon--along with the rest of Midtown. Maybe I'll even eat next time!