From: Bar-B-Log

What is Bar-B-Log?

In Memphis, you can't swing a dead cat without hitting an establishment serving legendary BBQ. I grew up here and have devoured more than my fair share of tasty sandwiches. However with near-perfect BBQ never more than 5 minutes away, I've never really developed my own barbecuing skills. That's about to change.

I plan to focus on the sauce. I might also spend time getting sauced as I experiment with the new flavoring ideas that inspired this project. As I chronicle those experiments here, I expect to also interject other thoughts – primarily on BBQ philosophy, cooking and food in general.

I'm already hungry.

Basted by The Saucier

From: Rachel and the City

Fucking Shite

Have you ever been so angry about something, that you are not allowed to be angry about?

It fucking sucks.

Posted by Rachel

From: Dining With Monkeys

A-Tan
A-Tan Chinese Restaurant and Sushi Bar
3445 Poplar
901-452-4477

Warren caught wind that A-Tan opened a hibatchi bar recently, so we decided to check it out after picking the monkeys up from school. We found them both thoroughly tired and cranky at pick up, but decided to take them out in public anyway since neither of us had any intention of cooking or getting fast food.

We arrived at A-Tan at about 6:15pm and discovered that it was crawling with kids! There were happy families at almost every table. But I haven't even reviewed this place! I said to myself as if everyone in the city is hanging on my blog's every post.

A smiling host (the owner I presume) met us at the door and said, "Do you want Chinese or Japanese? We have both." We looked to our left and then to our right and replied, "Japanese." The host led us to the new part of the restaurant (which is easily twice the size of the original restaurant) and seated us at a shiny new hibatchi table. Jiro wasn't happy with our selection and kept lunging towards the "Chinese side" of the restaurant screaming, "Nemo!!!!!!!!!!" (Obviously there was a fish tank somewhere.) The table (one of many) seated ten much like Nagasaki, but the grill was much smaller, and thankfully surrounded by an 18 inch marble ledge. (A much better set up for wild monkeys.)

A waitress quickly came over for our drink orders and told us about the early bird special (two meats for $14.95). I wondered if there was a coupon somewhere in the Playbook that I should have cut out, but didn't dwell on it. As soon as we put in our order (Steak and Shrimp for me, Chicken and Shrimp for Warren, and Steak for Satchel and Jiro to split), Satchel said, "I have to go pee pee."

Better now than in the middle of dinner I thought as I happily got up from my chair. Then it dawned on me. This was Jiro's first diaper free restaurant experience since becoming potty trained a couple of weeks ago. He unfortunately is not a big fan of public restrooms and he almost always poops at some point during the dinner hour. Sweat started to bead on my head as I mustered some enthusiasm and said, "Jiro want to go potty with brother?"

"No," he said plainly.

Alrighty then.

By the time Satchel and I returned, the miso soup (chock full of tofu and seaweed) was being served and our chef was making his way over with the cart. He was very entertaining and much more animated than any of the guys we have seen at Nagasaki. He immediately started putting on a show for the monkeys, which they loved. (I loved it to0--except for the fact that it distracted Jiro from eating his seaweed.)

The chef banged his spatuals around a bit then set the whole grill on fire. Satchel was prepared, but Jiro was not. He buried his head in my armpit for a few minutes before resuming eye contact with the chef. The chef was undeterred by this and went on with his routine. Soon he was using his spatula to toss small pieces of rice into Satchel's open mouth. Then he stacked up onion rings to look like a volcano. Satchel was hanging on his every move and Warren and I were all smiles.

Once the fried rice was done, the chef dished it out to us. Even though the monkeys were sharing a meal, he gave them each a heaping portion. Jiro demanded a spoon and when I asked the chef for one he looked at me like I was speaking in tongues. I got up and tracked down a waitress and returned with two just moments later. Jiro tore through his rice in no time and declared, "I need to go pee pee."

I vaulted out of my chair and led him to the restrooms. Jiro refused to sit on the seat, but did agree to let me hold him over the bowl and aim for him. Then he had a grand time washing his hands and playing with the automatic paper towel dispenser.

By the time we got back to the table, the vegetables, meat, and even noodles were all done and piled on our plates. I dug into mine immediately. Warren and Satchel were busy munching away at their plates too. Jiro had a few noodles, a piece of broccoli, a lick of an onion, a sip of water, and then declared himself done. I took that as my cue to eat as fast as possible since I expected him to break free from his chair at any moment.

Jiro's first move was to steal Satchel's fork and throw it on the floor. I picked it up. Then he threw his fork about five feet away from the table where I couldn't reach it. "Fork pick up!" he said. As I started to get out of my seat, he yelled, "No, me do it!" The last thing on earth I wanted was for him to get out of his chair. I started to hold him in and make threats under my breath, but he was determined.

Warren took a moment to stop chewing and say, "Don't let him scream like that in here."

Oh.
My.
God.
Those are fightin' words!

I let go of Jiro and he immediately climbed out of his chair. He made one step toward the fork, shifted his weight, and then in a total fake out maneuver, made a break for the Chinese section of the restaurant. As I quickened my pace I could hear him proclaiming, "Nemo!!!!!!!!!" as if he were off to set him free.

As I rounded the bend, I saw Jiro squeeze through a tiny opening in the railing and then join two girls in pink smocks next to a small koi pond. Yes, A Koi pond! The little girls were busy breaking off the long leaves of an adjacent plant and using them to poke the fish while their mothers chatted away at the nearby table.

Clearly, Jiro had found his tribe.

"Don't touch the plants," I said from the other side of the railing, but he completely tuned me out and started plucking. I had no choice but to make my way around the railing and walk through several tables of happy diners to retrieve him.

He had no intentions of going easily and I was forced to cease and desist for several minutes. In return, he left the plants alone and chose to coo and point at the fish. After a few minutes of this he decided to start throwing rocks at the fish.

"That's it," I said as I scooped him up and carried him away screaming. Once we got back to the Japanese side I had a little talk with him about getting his act together. He nodded and pointed to a bowl of peppermints. I grabbed a few and headed towards the table. On the way I saw a waitress with fortune cookies and asked her to bring us a few of those too.

When we got back to our seats Warren and Satchel were still eating. The peppermints kept Jiro busy for a few minutes and I was able to resume eating my yummy but cold dinner. Satchel announced that he had to pee again and I looked at Warren and said, "I'm sorry but it is your turn."

Once they left the table, Jiro tried to make another break for it, but I quickly started making him empty promises of lollipops. Amazingly, this actually kept him in his seat until Warren and Satchel returned. Warren resumed eating and Satchel started fidgeting and playing. Luckily the fortune cookies came and offered some distraction.

Satchel's read, "To be loved, be lovable."

Jiro's read, "Now is the time to explore."

Thankfully Warren finally finished eating, so I sent him off with the boys to see Nemo while I paid up.

I sat patiently for about three minutes and waited for our waitress to appear. She never did. That's when I realized that I hadn't seen her since placing our order and I had no memory of what she looked like. I asked a busboy to tell her I needed my check. Still nothing. I waited some more. Warren came back over and said, "Are you ready?" I wanted to yell, "NO I'M NOT READY! I CAN'T FIND THE FUCKING WAITRESS!" but I didn't. I told him to take the monkeys (who were now crawling all over the place) outside.

I got up and went in search of our waitress. When that failed, I found the smiling host and told him of my dilemma. He quickly started asking every other waitress in sight for the whereabouts of my waitress, but no one knew. He startd to get a little frantic and said, "Come on! She's got kids!" which I thought was kind of awesome.

Finally, the host sent someone into the kitchen in search of our ticket and apologized profusely to me. I was really hoping for a free meal at this point, but it didn't seem likely. I started to wonder if maybe I shouldn't have just left without paying and saved myself all of this stress. At the very least I wanted to say, "Do you realize I am a food writer for the The Flyer!

In the end, I smiled at the nice host, told him everything was okay, and left a 15% tip. (Normally I would leave a lot more.) It was a truly miserable end to a dinner that started off pretty awesome. However, I still I think anyone with kids who know how to behave would have a lovely time at A-Tan. (Assuming they don't get our waitress.)

posted by Stacey Greenberg

From: The Mothersville Post

All A-Bored!

The Parent Guilt Train is all fired up and chugging toward a media outlet near you! It seems to have gotten on track a few weeks ago, when the Internet was all a-twitter with Helen Kirwan-Taylor, the American-born British mom (er, mum) who made headlines by saying that she was "bored" by her children. Or more accurately, with her childrens' activities. You could practically hear the message boards crackle and smoke as the media followed the story by dividing us into sides: the selfish, distant mothers who have their own interests outside the home and the saintly, self-sacrificing but somewhat pathetic mothers whose lives revolve around their children. A lot of vitriol was tossed in the direction of the writer, too, for daring to assert that mothering isn't an especially stimulating experience. Frankly, I agree with her. Mothering, and especially mothering a very young child, can feel like a tremendous drain of mental energy. What I found offensive, however, was her self-centered idea that the rest of us are thrilled to drive to soccer practices or pick Play-Doh out of our hair. Does she never talk to other moms? Heck yeah, it's boring, but it's part of the gig. Whether we're home full-time, work when we can, or commute 100 miles a day, being a mom is a tough job and yes, it does get in the way of the fun stuff we would like to do with our free time.

Speaking of jobs, Linda Hirshman says all women should have one. Based on what I could glean from The Colbert Report (yes, I get all my news from Comedy Central), Hirshman argues that all women should work in order to balance their economic position and therefore their power in society at large. And what about the kids these women might have? Who takes care of them? Hirshman says parents should divide childcare evenly. Well, okay. Yeah. That would be great. Equal contribution from both parents without fiscal penalty to either. In the meantime, before the Grand Restructuring Of Our Entire Social System is complete, what do we do? Feel bad, that's what.

So it looks like we just can't win - working mothers are too interested in their own needs and are depriving their children of crucial bonding time, and at-home mothers are child-obsessed doormats who are causing the inevitable destruction of feminism. Oh, and don't forget - anything negative our kids do once they're adults is all our fault, too.

Sigh. Exhausted maternal sigh.

I think it's about time for me to publish my long-in-the-works parenting treatise, called Get Off Our Freakin' Backs, We're Doing The Best We Can. Book signings will be held at spas across the country, all at least 100 yards from crying babies, ringing cell phones and 24-hour news stations.

posted by Mothersville

From: Downtown Books

Here we are!

Well, we are open.

10am till 5 pm, or until the last person with money leaves.

We hope you will come by and see us, as we continue to move many more books and shelves in.

For the next week or so, you will have to enter through the Tobacco Bowl, as we are still working on our own entrance.

Until you can make it in, here are a few pictures for your viewing pleasure.

posted by Hugh Hollowell

[photos at original post]

From: Blake's Blog

Who knows what evil lurks under women's shirts?

"Excuse me, Miss, but could you remove your sunglasses, your jacket, your shoes and...um...."
Everyone realizes that the war on terrorism has affected our lives in ways large and small. But who could have predicted that terrorists might be the undoing (in a very literal sense) of gel-filled bras?

Yes, in case you haven't heard this, gel-filled bras are supposed to be included on the list of items airline passengers are no longer permitted to carry or, in this case, wear. In theory, those types of bras could be filled with liquid explosives. No boom-or-bust jokes, please.

Obviously, this brings some questions to mind. Like how many airport screeners are actually going to have the guts to accuse women of needing that kind of enhancement to their natural attributes? How and where will bra inspections be taking place? And if gel-filled products are a problem, how much longer will it be before suspicion turns toward women with breast implants?

I know airport screening is serious business. If security officials feel it's necessary, I'm not going to be the one to argue. (Since I don't wear bras, gel-filled or otherwise, it's really not my problem.)

But I have to wonder if Islamic terrorists who believe women should dress and behave modestly foresaw that their actions might one day lead to women having to strip off their undergarments in public airports. A strange turn of events indeed.

Posted by Blake Fontenay

From: WindyLou

Over and Out

I think I am just about blogged out. It was fun and all, but every single aspect of my life has gone to shit:

unemployed: check

broken heart: check

bad hair: check

financial ruin: check

well, kids that about sums it up. photo albums updated fairly regularly.

From: Rachel and the City

I Like Structure

Right now I'm going through one of those times in life where you have two possible situations arise, both of which would be fantastic to partake in, but of course, they overlap and you must choose one or the other. You know, like if you had the chance to get a backstage pass at your favorite band's show the same night as your best friend's birthday party where you know her hot cousin that you hooked up with last year might be flying in. The problem is, you won't know unitl the night of the party/show if your connection will be able to really hook you up or if said dude will actually be at the party. Keep in mind this is a lame analogy, what I am talking about actually has more to do with a possible job offer, that pays a lot of money but would mean I would miss out on some other stuff that i have really been looking forward to.

Anyway, all week I've been dealing with possibilities and it sucks. I just want to know the deal and be done with it all so I can move on instead of wrapping my head around a bunch of scenarios that may or may not happen. What ususally comes of this is I get all worked up and then nether situation pans out.

In other news, I'm getting more offers to cover music festivals - which is cool, but I always end up spending more money at these things than I make. Still to come this year, I'll be heading to Austin City Limits in Austin, Memphis' own Gonerfest, Voodoo Experience in NOLA, and CMJ in NYC. There really is no rest for the wicked.

Posted by Rachel

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From: Daily Diversion

SLIPPING SLOWLY INTO SENILITY...

Sometimes I do feel this way, and I'm way too young to be losing my mind. However, yesterday as I was leaving work I thought to myself "Did I post this morning? What did I do today?"

My entire day was a blur. Maybe it was because, once again, I was busy during every hour between when I got here and when I left. I don't know, but I hate to think that I can't remember the simple things that I do every day.

My wife brought me home a present yesterday that fit perfectly with the new crack I have. She bought me a college football preview magazine. Usually by this time of the year I've already collected three or more of them, but she gave me my first! Really, folks, she is the best!

Now, onto my new crack... I got NCAA Football 2007 the other day. I held off playing it all weekend and you don't know how hard that is, just seeing it sitting in the floor right in front of you beckoning you "Oh! You know you want to open me up and play me. Ooh! Just press the big circle and insert me in the machine. Yeah... That's sooooo good! Don't stop! Press 'A'! Now 'X'! Harder! Harder! No! Don't stop! I don't care if your wife just got home!!"

Whoa! What just happened? I kind of blacked out for a moment. Anyway, I held off on playing it all weekend, just to spare Adrianne the agony of watching me revert to being 8 years old. She already has to deal with the 15 year old version of me on a daily basis. I cranked it up yesterday while I was home for lunch, and, let's just say, my lunch ran a little longer than usual.

Really, it happens... I'm a video game junkie. I admit it. I could've stayed up all night last night playing and not thought anything about it. Adrianne went to bed without me, which will probably happen for a while, until I finish my first season. So far, I'm two games in and am 2-0. No, I'm not going to start blogging every day about my exploits on a video game!

Anyway, I've lost a little more of my mind this morning, so what I've tried to do is document it here and on "The Rules of Thumb". I hope someone enjoys watching me lose my mind?

Inflicted on you by John

From: Downtown Books

Reading against the clock.

I still marvel over the joy of it all; these people trust me with the knowledge of what they read, what there interests are, what they believe in, what they aspire to. Your closest friend would probably not come up to you and say something like "“I am thinking of leaving Catholicism and am looking at several of the animalistic religions." ” Yet, I have had similar conversations more than once with customers. Or the hot girl, who you think about asking out, until, that is, you see the stack of recovery books she buys and decide that anyone who buys 5 books with titles like living with your heroin addiction and DEALING with the aftermath of sexually transmitted disease does not need a complication like a bookseller (or at least this one) in her life.

My customers honor me by letting me have a glimpse of their personal lives, and I value that trust. Sometimes, however, it goes way beyond that.

Tom Walter came in the store last spring. For those of you in the nether parts of the world, Tom was (from 1984 to 2005) the Memphis Commercial Appeal'’s television reporter. As such, he had an eagle eye view on pop culture, for better or worse. It was always a joy when he came in, because he had a unique view on society that you may not (or may) agree with, but you loved him for the conversation and the thoughts.

Tom, as I said, came in to the store last spring. After the customary chit chat, he said he might need a job soon, and would I consider hiring him. It seems he was leaving the paper.

"“What the hell for?"” I ask.

It turned out Tom had cancer. Bad cancer. The sort from which you don'’t get better. He told me that if he only had so many days left, he was not going to spend them writing about Britney Spears. He had things to do, books to read, and he wanted to spend some time with his family. When I asked when he was leaving the paper, he said he hoped before August, because he never, ever wanted to write another word about Elvis. When he left, he was upbeat, cheerful, and had that smile that would make your whole day.

Over the next year or so, Tom would come in, bringing huge amounts of his discards, as he called them, and told me if I could use any of them, to make a credit on his account. I looked over Tom'’s account today, and he took many books out of the store, whittling away at his credit line, but then bringing more back so it never got even close to even. I would bet he took over 50 books out of the store in the last year, and has never paid a cent. Tom read good things, but not pretentious things. He felt no reason to read something like Flaubert just so he could look "“intellectual"”. You see, Tom was reading against the clock.

Tom has the distinction of having the largest line of credit ever at Midtown Books, with it once approaching $400. I once joked with him that if he brought any more books in, he was going to have to start paying some of the rent.

I was thinking about it today, and I guess the last time I saw Tom was about 3 months ago. He had lost weight, but not horribly so. He still had that smile, and when asked (but not until), he said he was doing "“OK"”. He was excited about our opening the store Downtown, and he said he could not wait to see it. I think he had been in since, but not when I was there.

Tom died Saturday morning.

Damn.


posted by Hugh Hollowell

From: artbutcher

New Artmemphis.net Interviews

well
well
well
when was the last time
there was two posts
on the same day
by us here at artbutcher
by the way
the best of memphis ballots are out
so be sure to put this blog down
as he bes n memphis
we all know it is not
because
it really is not about anything is it
not like those about
politics
the local hipster scene
romanians
downtown books
nothing interesting like a blog
about other blog
or about going out to eat with kids
or wine tastings
nothing great like that
but in a half ass attempt
for self gratification
motivation
preservation
vote for this blog in the flyer
you can even vote online
this will be a precursor
to my imminent political career
anyways
enough about me
there are new artmemphis.net interviews
guess what
i interviewed myself this time
you can not believe
how hard it is
to ask yourself questions
to answer the questions
you ask yourself
dwayne butcher
jada thompson
greely myatt
tim kinard
annabelle meacham
pinkney herbert

posted by dwayne

From: Fertile Ground

Tom Waits

Ok so maybe I lied. As much as I like to think that I would have packed up the monkeys and headed to Kidzapalooza on a moments notice, I have to say that I'm pretty happy that I was in Memphis on August 4th.

On a whim (and at the bidding of my hipster friends) I purchased two tickets to the Tom Waits concert. Now, I don't know much about Tom Waits other than a) he has a scratchy voice and b) he played Lily Tomlin's dude in "Shortcuts," but I do know that if one has the opportunity to see him live in concert, one should jump on it.

I dubbed the concert the "Hipster Convergence" and began looking forward to it almost immediately after purchasing our tickets. I briefly worried that I had nothing to wear and that I would be exposed as "musically challenged" by the beautiful and hip people in attendance, but that didn't stop me from being excited. There was a big hoo-ha about the tickets and having to pick them up at will call with a government issued picture ID, the credit card used to make the purchase, and a ten digit secret code, but even that wasn't so bad.

My mom agreed to watch the monkeys and told us to "Go out and have a good time. Stay out late. Do whatever you want," which in itself was pretty heady. Warren and I met up with several others at Blue Fin prior to the show and I immediately downed three vodka tonics like it was 2003 and I didn't have a care in the world. I was so drunk I said to Warren, "Sure, go ahead and order the salmon and quail egg pizza" and even managed to eat several slices of it after it arrived. ("What's this yellow stuff?" I inquired mid-slice completely oblivious to the quail egg part of his order. Ew.)

My spirits could not be dampened. And to prove it, I ordered a tall boy once we were inside the Orpheum and drank it out of a really large paper cup. By the time Tom Waits took the stage I was completely in love with him and everyone in the theater. I loved his scarecrow dance, I loved his scratchy voice, his giant megaphones, the way his shadow danced on the curtains, the funny stories he told, the weird jacket he had on, his hot little son playing drums--everything. I totally see what the hype is all about. That man has it going on.

Amazingly there didn't seem to be any merch at the show, which is pretty cool, but I wish I would have had a CD to play or a poster to stare at on Saturday when I was completely hungover and hating life.

posted by Stacey Greenberg

From: Paul Ryburn's Journal

Thursday update

I just got home from a meeting of the Center City Commission's Safety & Traffic Task Force. Very, very productive meeting and well worth taking an afternoon off work. All the major groups were there - Center City, Convention & Visitors Bureau, MPD, Ride the Ducks, Redbirds, Peabody Place Security, and many more... and, of course, Residents for a Safer Downtown Memphis. I took extensive notes, and as soon as I get them typed up I'll post them on the news section of RSDM's site.

However, I'm so excited about one thing that I'm going to go ahead and let the cat out of the bag: The Memphis Police Downtown Entertainment District has a new commander, Major Johnny Currin. The EDU is the unit that provides extra coverage from 7 PM to 3 AM when people are out having a good time. Through RSDM I have known Johnny for a couple of months now, and let me tell you, he is ready to take action. He has been out on the streets on foot himself the past several weekends. I can't tell you how encouraged I am about the safety situation downtown with him in charge.

I finally made it to Wine Wednesday at LoLo's Table last night, after meaning to go for several months. Every week they select a couple of reds and a couple of whites and put them on sale for $12 a bottle, which for a restaurant is an incredibly low price. So I brought a gorgeous blonde up there and we shared a bottle of Falling Star chardonnay. Food was great too - I ordered the trout, which turned out to be the biggest serving of fish I have ever seen in my life; she had the evening's special, which was a southwestern pasta with chicken.

Keep in mind that they also have Sangria Saturdays - pitchers of either red or white sangria for $8 when you also order food. I've never seen white sangria before - I'm going to have to go back sometime soon and give it a try.

ATTENTION NEIGHBORS IN MY BUILDING: Last Monday evening, the aforementioned gorgeous blonde came over and hung out at my apartment for the first time... and as soon as I mentioned the rooftop deck, the first words out of her mouth were, "We need to have a party up there." YEAH! Haven't we been talking about having a party on the roof for months and months? Enough talk; it's time for action! Let's make it happen.

I'm not going to the weekly party on the Peabody roof tonight. Sister Hazel is playing, and I avoid that place like the plague when they have a big-name band. Extra expensive and the lines are too long. Instead, I'll be hitting the Saucer for a couple of hours to type up the meeting notes on my laptop, then I'm going to a private party for my friend Novella Smith Arnold who is running for County Commission. Hopefully it will be a victory party.

Other than a private function on Saturday afternoon, I have no plans at all for the weekend at this point. Sometimes those turn out to be the best weekends though. I will say that I plan to be at Pint Nite at the Saucer on Monday. For some reason I have a feeling Pint Nite will be looking better than it has in months... about 10 months.

Dawgie Style, the new restaurant on Madison between Second and Third, is now open. According to the Center City Commission's Livin' It Up newsletter, they serve hot dogs, sub sandwiches and wraps. They're open 7 am to 11 pm Monday-Friday and 11 am to 10 pm Saturday and Sunday. Downtown residents: Please go by and give this place a try. We really need to support restaurants that have the guts to stay open into the evening hours downtown, rather than just for lunch. And they're open Sundays too - so I have a new place to stumble for a meal after my champagne bottle at Sleep Out's is finished. Cool.

All right. Time to pack up the laptop and go visit my waitresses.

Blogger Bash

Serrabee has put together a Blogger Bash for all Memphis bloggers.

Blogger Bash

Young Avenue Deli

Thursday, Aug. 10
Sunday, Aug. 13

7 p.m.

From: Urf!

Write That Down

We've just now returned from our 1269-mile road trip, and what a trip like that does is give me time to think. The Quartet is right there behind me, so I usually start thinking about them and how they're being raised. I've decided that there is one thing I should teach them above all others. This one thing, I learned on this road trip, is more important than being polite, or being responsible or loving thy neighbor. This one thing is that the damn left lane is for passing only! Write that down.

birthed by RJA at