Well, in order to make a short story long, please allow me to tell you the tale of my quest to have a Decent Lunch today. I started the morning by dropping off the eldest Hungryspawn at school and heading up the hills to the oh so quaint and discreet and not tacky at all, yet still incredibly fun because they have putt putt on the side of a freaking mountain and a moonshine distillery with free samples and you can watch the hypnotic taffy machine all day without anyone wondering if you are “under the influence’ of exotic fungi and you can buy funnel cakes 356 days a year, town of Gatlinburg, Tennessee: Home to tourists by the blue billions and the tackiest crap this side of the Strand at myrtle beach (or i think that it is called). However, just off the the side of the hoopla is a nice little HB Clark designed disc golf course at Mills Park. I met a good friend, we’ll call him the Tomahawker for reasons you are not privileged enough to know and proceeded to give him a disc golf whooping. I mean, i made him go pick out his own switch for the ass whooping! Well, to be honest it was pretty close up until he went all Tin Cup on a hole and threw 5 drivers out of bounds. Anywho, All of this mountainous disc golfing and former college athlete ass whooping made me powerfully hungry and my mind lept to a sign i had seen on the way to the course for the “Rib Doctor’s BBQ” and I decided to check him out. Quaint little place, off the beaten path, smelled great, the owner was nice, BBQ sauce tasted awesome on my finger tips. All in all a nice , traditional BBQ joint. Nothing fancy, no one was in a hurry, not even freaking close to being in a hurry. They were in fact, in an anti hurry. They also do not take debit cards, and since my i had no fancy bendy-foldy money dollars, I left hungrier than I arrived, still tasting the lingering spiciness from my sample o’ sauce. I will return.
So, I headed down the road and came upon a newer BBQ restaurant called Smokin’ Ed’s BBQ. Ever notice how a lot of BBq places don’t like the letter “G” at the end of their descriptive adjectives? Me too. The place was very crowded with a lively group of what appeared to be city workers and secreataries but they sat me straight down, which i am unsure of because they apparantly were not able to present pulled pork sandwich to me in 20 minutes!!! I waited 20 minutes for a sandwich of precooked meat and a bowl of precooked beans. Actually, I waited for them for 20 minutes, then got up and walked to my car, empty bellied and even more unsatisfied than before. To be fair, the place was new, being only open for two weeks and did not seem prepared for a busy Friday lunch rush. I heard then 86 the cole slaw, and this was at 12:30. Bed planning or half-assed kitchen management obviously coming in to play in my near soul shattering BBQ denial.
Back into the Hungrymobile and off towards the homestead I went, stomach growling and grumbling, visions of smoked meats dancing in my head. That’s when my eyes did divine upon the glorious site of Jamaican Food. OK, not the catchiest name, and I think technically it might be Jamaican Sunrise or Paradise? What you can call it is freaking fanfreakingtastic, and i am not freaking kidding the freak around! The building was originally a King Arthur’s burgers back in the 80’s or 90’s and was a Central Park clone, which is an horrific theory actually. Over the years it also housed The San Antoni Chili Bake restaurant, which served texas flavored “hot dogs” which were basically oblong meatloafs with chili seasoning and chili and cheese, sour cream etc, etc on top of them. I personally liked them but they did not last long. Then it was a coffee shop of some kind or another, Mountain Mudd i think( because everything has to be named after the mountains around here) and I think it was a Gourmet To Go or something like that with a menu so boring sounding the one time I stopped in I decided to just go to sonic instead. Sonic. That’s right, and not just for a big cherry limeade to dump gin into.
Back to the food: I got 1/4 rack of ribs with hot jerk sauce on the side and a slice of white texas toast, untoasted. I also picked up a jerk chicken sandwich for my friend, Lisasellsbooksandishungry. They were both amazing! They were actually “jerked” meats and not just grilled meat with jerk seasoning on them. you could taste the different spices used, and see the onions and yummy bits on the ribs. They each had their own flavor profile though, not just the same flavor with a different protein. The sauce is FREAKING HOT!!!! and awesome, and homemade, and delicioso, and if it wasn’t so damn spicy, I would gargle with it. It is such a contrast to the goopy jerk sauce found at the grocery or on corporate plates. The menu also included red curry and rice, beans and rice and the specialty of the house, oxtail soup. I have never tried oxtail soup, and I really wanted the ribs, but I plan on returning to try it just on the theory that it might be as good as these freaking ribs!Sorry the pictures of the ribs were fuzzy, but my pupils were still vibrating from the jerk sauce and i could not focus. If you are ever cruising down east Broadway in good old Maryville (Murvill), Tennessee, please do yourself a favor and go get jerked! and then go get some of this fantastic food.