Meet Me at the Yellow House They Call Casablanca - in Memphis.

Found on a recommendation, enjoyed on a bitterly cold morning, savored in luxe splendor, craved in absence, Casablanca's Mediterranean and Eastern cuisine is comforting in all the right ways.

A Craving for Alcenia's Finally Satisfied.

January 2008.  I was wrapping up my first out-of-state travel assignment in my brand new career as a travel writer.  Sure, it was just Memphis, but the three nights I'd already stayed in Memphis in that tiny little room at the Sleep Inn, checking out the city's downtown on-foot on the first of several no-car travelogues had already shown me I had a whole lot of learning to do about my new craft.

I had spent a good deal of time walking.  I had ridden the trolley.  I had tried not to freak out too much walking Beale Street by myself.  I found museums and fledgling little sushi places where cute guys tried to hit on me despite the wedding ring.  I gulped down my fear of traveling solo.

And then I found Alcenia's.

Long before the Today Show or Guy Fieri or Roadfood found Alcenia's, I was on the doorstep of a little shop just north of Interstate 40 on Main Street.  I was tired and hungry, and BJ took me in.

You can read about that experience here... yes, these were the early days of Tie Dye Travels, just a week after receiving my new fangled Nikon P50 camera, a massive improvement over my old Fuji Finepix, and I was enthralled and delighted with this little soul food cafe.  Indeed, it was better than any Memphis barbecue joint I'd visited, and it just blew me away.

Seven years have passed.  I've had a child, a travel writing career, a state job, a divorce, three books, a couple of epiphanies and a new chance at writing for a living again.  I have passed through Memphis time and time again.  And either I haven't had time to stop, or I've come on a Sunday or a Monday.  I haven't had time to return to Alcenia's.

I have bragged on it.  I have shared tales.  I have coerced others to try the place.  I have regaled Grav with story after story of the marvelous fried chicken, the candied yams, the ghetto-sweet KoolAid.  And finally, on a brisk April day, in the shadow of the then-soon-to-open Bass Pro Shops at the Pyramid, we parked out front and entered the cast iron gate.

This time, the restaurant was occupied.  There were diners at several tables.  Moreover, there were new articles on the wall, in what free spaces were allowed, and photos of famous folks smiling out by the register.  It was very clear that Alcenia's has moved up in the world.

And I got there first.  I beamed, hoping that the little blog entry I'd penned seven years earlier had helped others discover the eatery.

BJ was chatting away with customers.  She just kept going, greeting us each as we came in, waving her hand towards where to sit

after getting a hug from everyone.  She let us know that she had everything and chuckled when I asked if it'd be heresy to choose unsweet tea ("no, honey, you're not the only one") and made us feel like we'd been family forever.

We were just going to get lunch, but the scent of green tomatoes frying in the back were too much to handle, so Grav walked back and asked if an order could be added.

They came to table first, six flour and pepper battered rounds served with a white buttermilk sauce Grav swore contained mustard.

They. Were. Phenomenal.

Unlike so many places we've been, these weren't huge slabs of tomato and they sure weren't overbattered and consumed by their own crust.  They were piquant and substantially flavored,

tartness with a crispy, salty pan-fried crust, and with a drizzle of that sauce they were irrefutably good.  As in, we could not refuse a crumb.  I found myself going after the remaining crumbs in the basket with my fingers as soon as they'd disappeared.

BJ started to bring us plate and bowl after plate and bowl, each brightly colored vessel filled with yet another treasure.  She told me to hang on for my rice and gravy side, saying she wanted to make sure it was good and hot.

Not that we had anything to wait for, other than our photos.  She asked us to post some of what we were taking to her Facebook page, which we did... but so much to post!

Grav had been craving fried chicken since I mentioned how much I liked it at this restaurant, so he had a thigh and a breast of darkly turned pan-fried chicken.  And

these were good, of course.  I could have told you that.  The breast was even moist and held some of that salty flavor within.

He chose for his sides macaroni and cheese and fried cabbage -- the later of which was a bit sweet as well as buttery.  The mac and cheese was not a

runny custard but instead an ample pile of noodles baked with white cheese.

They came, as mine did, with those hot water rounds of sweet white cornbread.

BJ asked us if we wanted chow-chow (which she pronounces as "cha-cha") and of course we agreed, and its sweet and tangy textured magnificence only added to the cornbread experience.  It

made me want some fresh corn or lima beans to mix it into, frankly.  You can buy yourself a jar now and take it home with you, by the way.

Me?  Though the fried chicken tempted me heartily, I decided to try the meatloaf.  I have been in a meatloaf mood of late.  The meatloaf at Alcenia's is nothing like what you expect from a restaurant.  Instead of a slightly dry slab, it's almost liquified in places, scooped out of a plan and

served on a plate.  The barbecue-like sauce glaze, the low-filler all-beef meatloaf, the hints of black pepper and suggestions of onion, make it all a very hearty (and very filling) entree.  This is the dish you want when it's cold out.

I could not resist the chance to enjoy those candied yams again and I did... each one glowing golden with its high butter and sugar content but I did not care at all.  Calories this good are worth savoring, even if they go right to the waistline.  Really.

A few minutes later BJ came to the table with the bowl of rice and gravy, one of the other side items.  She was right - it was hot, and it made it all the better, a rich deep standing peppered roux over rice, just like my folks made it when I was a kid.  It was stout and the rice was soft, and Grav about wrestd the bowl from me and proclaimed later that it was the only thing that could have elevated his fried chicken experience.

Strangely enough, I have no clue if Alcenia's has dessert.  No idea at all.  It's not listed on the menu, and any meal there will pretty much quell any appetite you bring through the door.  I would suspect anything that came out of BJ's kitchen would be just

absolutely ridiculous and tasty, but that's just a theory, of course.

What I do know is that eventually, I will have to come for Saturday brunch and try the salmon croquette.  I hear such ardently favorable reviews of the pink seared rounds that I have to schedule a special day just so I can go back.  But my free Saturdays are rarer than hen's teeth, so I'll have to wait.

You don't have to wait on me, though.  Get yourself across the river and to this little place on Main Street, a straight shot from the Pyramid.  This is soul food that really does what it's supposed to do, sooth your soul and make you long for returning many years after you've dined at one of those mismatched tables.

Alcenia's
317 N. Main Street
Memphis, TN 38103
(901) 523-0200
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One more note for Guy Fieri... with all the tips I've sent your way, don't you think it's time you took me out to dinner?

Alcenia's Home Cooking is Better Than A Lot of Memphis Barbecue.

This little soul food cafe called Alcenia's is a truly comforting restaurant that brings tasty vittles to the table. Stop in when you're in Memphis.

When you tell someone you're going to Memphis -- with no other added information -- they're probably going to assume one of two things: that you're going to visit Graceland, or that you're going for the barbeque.

The Blue Plate Cafe in downtown Memphis is just as good as the original.

The Blue Plate Cafe has been a popular stop on Poplar Avenue in Memphis for decades. The tiny lot is almost always packed, there's usually a bit of a line, and it's all worth it.

Eclectic Goodness at Big Foot Lodge in Memphis.

This restaurant is now known as The Kooky Canuck. See an update at the bottom.

My travels have taken me to Memphis, where I stumbled upon the Big Foot Lodge on a Sunday night in early January. Hungry from a day on the road and needing a little comfort food, I crawled in.

Don't let the restaurant's rustic decor fool you. This is a relative new entry to the Memphis eatery scene, but I think it's here to stay.

The menu is packed with takes on Memphis favorites -- with such eclectic delights as BBQ Egg Rolls (Memphis BBQ and slaw packed in an egg roll and deep fried for $5.99),
the Corn Brat (a bratwurst prepared like a corn dog, $4.99), and something called Poutine (a strange cheese covering big hand-cut fries topped with gravy).

There are also neat sandwiches, like the Prime Rib Sandwich ($9.49) and the BL"FG"T (a BLT with a fried green tomato, $6.99). And there's even a Fried Ham and Cheese dish, with American cheese slammed between two slabs of honey ham battered and deep fried ($6.99).

On this particular night, I was interested in the first special I saw -- the deep fried Cornish game hen. Unfortunately, by 9am that night that day's hens were already gone, so I settled for the meatloaf. I was not going to be disappointed.

While I waited on my meal, I checked out the crowd and the interior.

Big Foot Lodge has a great bar with lots of monitors showing the big game, whatever the big game is. Draft beer here comes in 34 ounce glasses, big gulps for the hungry crowd. The place was packed with 20- and 30-somethings, checking out the Memphis nightlife.

There's even a jukebox, though not one of the traditional push-button and vinyl monsters. This jukebox is programmed for the Information age.

My food arrived, and I was greeted with two big individual servings of red glazed meatloaf, a big pile of sweet potato fries, and a cup of cucumber salad. The meatloaf was about the most perfect comfort food I could have asked for. The ketchup sauce is heavy on the sweetness, but goes well with the savory and hearty meat below. The meat and starch (I believe it might be a breadcrumb mixture) tasted of black pepper, garlic, and plenty of onion. A very good balance.

The sweet potato fries were about right -- not overdone like at many of the places I've visited. They're cut large, allowing for the centers to be soft while the outside is crunchy. They're skin-on, which worked fine for me.

But it was the cucumber salad that really caught my attention. Rather than go the route of a stale dill pickle, the cucumber salad grasps the best of a bread and butter pickle and packs in a bit more sugar for a crisp, delicate touch. I was told the salad is made every day. It's better than most relishes I've had, and lacks the vinegary wang some offerings have included.

While I was eating, one of the other tables ordered a Sasquatch burger. Not an individual -- a table. This burger is four pounds of 80/20 seasoned ground chuck, two pounds of bun -- plus lettuce, tomatoes, pickles, onions, cheese, and your choice of condiments, bringing the $19.99 burger to a whopping seven and a half pounds of food. Oh, and it comes with fries. It takes about 40 minutes to prepare, which isn't a surprise, considering all that meat. Thing is, if you're brave enough, you can tackle this monster by yourself -- and if you eat it all within an hour, it's on the house. Just one person has done that so far -- professional eating champ Patrick Bertoletti, who managed to gulp down the whole thing in 11 minutes and five seconds -- and finished off the fries, too. For us normal folks, sharing is perfectly fine.

The restaurant also offers some unusual deserts, including S'Mores that you can make at the table yourself (Yay! Not bad at $5.99), a Deep Dish Cookie a la Mode (also $5.99), and the perfect accompaniment for the Sasquatch Burger -- the Yeti sundae, a $14.99 beast with 18 scoops of ice cream and a plethora of toppings -- the stuff fatal ice cream headaches are made of. Unfortunately, my meal topped me off for the night, so I'll have to catch one of the sweet delights on another visit.

Big Foot Lodge isn't far from Beale Street -- it's catty-corner from the Peabody Place Entertainment Complex on Second Street, on the north side of the boulevard. The physical address is 97 South Second. It's open from 11am to 2:30am -- and the kitchen stays open late, so it's a good stop for late night wanderers. Want to find out more? Check out the Big Foot Lodge website -- or call (901) 578-9808. And they do offer carry-out orders at no additional cost -- though I doubt you could get the Sasquatch burger free on competition unless you stick around.

An update 8-13-09:

Normally, when a restaurant changes, it's going under or it significantly changes what it does. That's not the case here. When I visited this restaurant in January 2008, it was known as the Big Foot Lodge. Since then, it's made just one change -- and now it's the Kooky Canuck. Same owners, same great menu, with one change. There's now a 12 pound burger on the menu -- the King Kookamunga, six pounds of meat and six pounds of fixings. That's along with the renamed Kookamunga burger, the one featured in the article below. I haven't had the chance to make it to Memphis yet to try it out, but when I go I plan to bring a caravan. 12 pounds... that's even bigger than Ed Walker's famous burger. Anyway, check out the Kooky Canuck website for more information. ~Kat

UPDATE 9-30-10: Grav and I tackled this burger for Serious Eats.