Showing posts with label Robert's Western World. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Robert's Western World. Show all posts

Thursday, June 6, 2013

How to Satisfy those Honky-Tonk Beer Munchies






Robert’s Western World
416 Broadway
Nashville, TN





You ever notice how a good greasy meal at midnight doesn’t actually need to be good to be good?

You know what I’m talking about.

After a night of honky-tonkin’ up and down Nashville’s infamous Lower Broadway, fried shoe leather on a bun starts to look as good as Kate Upton losing a water balloon fight.

I’m pretty sure “beer munchies” derives from that same part of the brain as “beer goggles” -- only with milder next morning consequences.

I’d like to brag to you that Suit757 was in such a sudsy state of mind at midnight when I ordered my cheeseburger and onion rings from the hot plate in back of Robert’s Western World.

But that would be a lie.

I made this decision stone sober.

Scary enough. But this isn’t Suit757’s first rodeo. Or first visit to Lower Broad.

I’ve done this enough to know that Robert’s Western World is Nashville’s top oasis of real music in the creative wasteland that is “Music City.”

And the tiny flat top out back is one of the few places in town not named Waffle House to eat after the witching house.

Now, understand, nobody comes to Robert’s Western World to eat.

They come to drink beer, soak up the retro atmosphere and hear the best traditional country music in town.

Eating sometimes becomes a byproduct of the above. Which, I guess is why they put the little griddle back there in the first place.

After a long typical Suit757 day of driving across the breadth of Mississippi, Alabama and Tennessee, I finally checked into my Comfort Inn at a quarter to midnight, checked out of my suit and headed down to that stretch of touristy honky-tonks in downtown Nashville.

Literally in the shadow of the famed Ryman Auditorium, home of the original Grand Ole Opry (until the corporate hacks moved it to the suburbs), a strip of decades old honky-tonks lines Lower Broadway.

If you are “in the know” like Suit757, you can bypass the annoying bouncers out front by cutting through the alley out back next to the Ryman. All the honky-tonks have back doors utilized by the locals.

Three doors down, Tootsies is famous as the place where Willie Nelson and Patsy Cline’s husband got drunk one night and wrote “Crazy”, the most played song in the history of the juke box.

On the other side is The Stage on Broadway, which sports an awesome mural of Merle Haggard hocking George Dickel Whiskey with a tag line that reads, “Water’s for teardrops, Dickel’s for drinking.”

But the live music these resurrected tourist traps feature is the typical cheesy pop country pabulum that passes these days for creativity in this town.

Some dude from Upstate New York awkwardly wearing a cowboy hat singing about tractors and honeysuckle and crap that appeals to 55 year old housewives.

If you are looking for REAL country music in the Country Music Capital of the World, Robert’s Western World is about the only place you can find it.

Every night, you’ll find a real deal talented band that always features pedal steel guitar and upright bass and singer with more talent than all the fake pretty boys this town produces in a year.

BR5-49 used to play here before hitting it big time -- or, at least as big as big time can get playing this genre of music.

The setting is as authentic as it gets.

A former Western wear apparel store, the shelves are still lined with cowboy boots for sale.

The bartenders and waitresses are dressed straight out of central casting from a 1950s hipster stage set. Lots of pink hair dye, mousse and tattoos.

I found a spot at the bar in the back right in front of the little griddle.

Being the only sober guy in the joint, I desperately ordered up a Yazoo Pale Ale, a nice hoppy local Nashville brew.

My second choice was less inspired.

Dos Perros, also brewed by Yazoo, is supposed to be a “Mexican style” beer.

Look, I like Mexicans as much as any other gringo.

Chimichangas and mole? Sure.

But I’m not sure Mexican-style beer is a genre that begs for replication.

It tasted like a Corona without the lime. No thanks.

While the Yazoos were $4.50 each, I was able to score a Miller High Life for less than half the price.

Bargain!

That’s a fraction of the cost of a similar quality beer at Tootsies. With a much better soundtrack.

The best thing I can say about the burger is it is cheap and quick.

This isn’t gourmet.

The grill man chisels a block off a stack of frozen burgers and tosses the hard disk onto the flat top.

The onion rings are frozen too, of course.

But the man knows what he’s doing.

He’s like the Michelangelo of frozen meat product.

In ten minutes, the previously frozen block of beef has been transformed into a juicy tender burger with just a trace of pink in the middle. Topped with lettuce, tomato and a slice of raw onion, I’ve had much worse burgers for double the price.

Best of all were all the jealous looks from all the inebriated tourists surrounding me at the bar struck with beer-munchie-envy.

“Dayyyymmmn! That looks goooood!”

Within moments the grill man went from sedately enjoying the talents of the band to being busier than an IRS agent at a Tea Party rally.

Suit757 the trend setter. That’s me. Always on the cutting edge.

Like I said, sometimes you don’t have to be good to be good.

Rating: Seriously Thought About Buying Shirt.



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Thursday, September 2, 2010

Welcome To Nashvilleland: You Must Be This Tall To Eat Here


Jack’s Bar-B-Que
416 Broadway
Nashville, TN
Visited August 17, 2010

Beer selection: A lame selection of $5 bottled beers

Food: Tasty, but over-priced BBQ


“Nashville Sucks!”

Among the so-called “creative class” it’s the most popular mantra since “Hope & Change.”

I have 32 songs on my Tennessee I-Pod playlist (yes, I have a playlist for most states). 17 of those songs are about Nashville specifically, 16 of which reflect the aforementioned theme.

Music City’s number one product is cheesy pop music.

And I do mean “product”.

Corporate hacks pick some pretty guy or gal out of a face book who can barely carry a note, write them a song with lame lyrics, provide them a backing instrumental track, and market the slop to middle aged white women.

If these aspiring artists had a creative bone in their body, it’s quickly squelched. So, it’s just easier to pick someone who doesn’t, goes the Nashville corporate thinking.

So I wondered, how good can corporate Nashville BBQ be?

I went to Jack’s to find out.

Nashville, Inc. became crystal clear the very first time I stepped foot in the famed Wild Horse Saloon over a decade ago.

A “band” of “guys” who looked like they were recruited off a male cheerleading squad or a Jetblue employee picnic were on stage “singing” what can only be described as “music” that reminded me of Milli Vanalli with a twang.

I’m pretty sure above the pulse of the synthesizers I could make out Hank Williams rolling in his grave.

I spent almost a decade hiding in my hotel room on subsequent Nashville trips.

Then I got up some courage and checked out Lower Broadway.

Lower Broad is a touristy version of what Nashville used to be, or so the corporate hacks want the tourists to think.

You have the famed Ryman Auditorium, a converted church that hosted The Grand Old Opry for three decades before the corporate hacks decided to move the Opry, appropriately enough, to a theme park out in some God-forsaken, soulless expanse of Nashville suburban hell.

Right along side the Ryman is a smelly alley that leads to the back doors of a series of touristy honky-tonks.

Touristy honky-tonks?

Isn’t that kind of an oxymoron? Not in Nashville.

Tootsie’s is the most famous, known as the place where Willie Nelson and Patsy Cline’s husband got drunk one night and wrote “Crazy”, the most famous song in the history of the juke box. I suppose Tootsie’s has its divey charms, but $6 for a PBR is a bit ridiculous, even if there is no cover charge.

The best place on the Lower Broad strip is Robert’s Western World, a former cowboy boots store where PBRs are just $2.50, and you can still hear real musicians playing real instruments performing real country music. You can even get a decent burger or fried bologna sandwich from the dude at the griddle in the back.

Next door is where you can find Jack’s. And I was hungry for some BBQ.

Jack’s reminded me of dining at EPCOT in Disney World.

The food was pretty good, but over-priced. And the joint, which had the atmosphere of an amusement park cafeteria, was mobbed with stroller-pushing tourists and their screaming kids.

For $25, I stood in the cafeteria line and got the three meat platter (three ribs – only two of which had meat, plus sausage & pork), baked beans, green beans, a slice or two of corn bread, a tiny piece of chess pie and a Shiner Bock.

While that sounds like a lot, Jack’s doesn’t exactly go over board on portion sizes. The three meat platter is more of a sampling of a few bites of this and a few bites of that.

But what do expect at a theme park? I mean, Nashville?

The good news is the BBQ was legit. Smoky and tasty, just like it should be, especially the ribs (the two with the meat on them, that is).

Jack’s is exactly what tourists from Pennsylvania think BBQ should be.

Keep it simple, don’t get too creative and charge the hell out of ‘em for it.

And that’s why Jack’s is a perfect metaphor for the theme park that is Nashville.
Rating: Would Wear Shirt If It Were Free


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