I once ate at a restaurant in Nashville called........

[WCGreen]

Uncle Bud's Catfish and such........

On approaching the restaurant, a giant wooden catfish, frozen in mid jump smack in the middle of a dark pool of water is the first thing you see. Inside, away from the fierce creature, is a large sign proclaiming to all true believers that devotion, verified by a Sunday Bulletin, was worth 10% off the daily catch at Uncle Bud's Cat Fish 'n Such. The menu was simple, the eatin' was borderline communal, the decoration was old John Deere hats hanging from everywhere. The selection is deep-fried alligator tails, that "tastes just like chickin' " with, of course, chickin, catfish and oysters. Pickles, slabs of onions and hush puppies (they go with everything) were set down family-style by one of the scurrin' waitresses before you even ordered. This oasis of ante-bellum haute cuisine was surrounded on all fours by asphalt. And every night the expansive lot was packed with pick-up trucks, dirty jeeps and banged up vans. Welcome to the deep south of Nashville.


Not fifteen minutes from the land of Dixie, close to the safe environs of Vanderbuilt University, is a small but growing gentrified area. This part of Tennessee has left behind the soulful longings for country music, bass fishin' and beer drinkin' of a Hank Williams Jr. and embraced with gusto the world of angst ridden folk singers, hackey sack and Latte typified by Gen X warbler Tori Amos. The Bistros around this neighborhood serve up Nuevo American Cuisine with the same panache as the restaurants that populate Tremont, Ohio City or the
Warehouse District. All the pick-up trucks, jeeps and vans are clean. Welcome to Confederate Flag-free Nashville......


This is how I started a piece I did comparing Nashville to Cleveland back in 1995....