Wasting time in Margaritaville.

Jimmy Buffett’s hit “Cheeseburger in Paradise” is almost as popular as the Parrothead national anthem, “Margaritaville.” And what hamburger lover couldn’t get behind the chorus of such a hit:

Cheeseburger in Paradise
Heaven on Earth with an onion slice
Not too particular, not too precise
Just a Cheeseburger in Paradise

I like mine with lettuce and tomato
Heinz 57 and French fried potato
Big Kosher pickle and a cold draft beer
Well good God Almighty which way do I steer?

From listening to other hits and whathaveyou, determining that Key West was indeed the paradise of which Buffett sang was not hard at all. So when a trip took me to the southernmost part of the continental United States I went to find whether the mythical burger could be found.

Of course, to find it you have to go to Margaritaville, Buffett’s original sidewalk café now replicated in 13 other cities across the U.S. and the Caribbean. It’s located on Duval Street, a bustling avenue of tourist shops, restaurants and historic locations a block from the end of U.S. Highway 1. The windows are usually open and there’s usually a wait, from what I gathered.

I found myself hustling to get to Margaritaville on a Monday morning, hotfooting it back over from the Hemingway House I’d just toured with the hubster. All along the way the sun beat down on us, the January light mixed with tropical warmth was more than enough to raise a little heat on the back of my neck. We met our other friends, who’d just been shown one round table at the front that probably should have only sat four, not six of us. I got the impression from the others that seating was preferable to waiting.

Cheeseburgers don’t magically appear, as any lolcat would lament. That’s fine. We all ordered drinks -- most of us variants of the margarita (when in Margaritaville…). I thought about this after the order went off, realizing I wouldn’t be true to the song -- but if I had been, then I could not have told you about the margarita and would have been stuck with draft beer to boot. The horror.

You can tell a little bit about our personalities in the margaritas we ordered. Right in our row of three, our friend Carl had himself a frozen margarita, the hubster had his traditional on the rocks and I had mine with a sugar rim. Yeah, I’m weird about that.

Our friends ordered conch fritters ($8.95), which came out looking like very large round hushpuppies. They were not dissimilar from hush puppies, being big yellow cornmeal balls with bits of white onion and jalapeno pepper mixed in. The difference were chunks of conch meat. The remoulade sauce was nicely tasty.

The hubster ordered up a Jumbo Lump Crab and Shrimp Salad ($14.95) -- a blend of lump crab meat, some pinkish shrimp, rotini pasta and olives on top of mixed greens with tomatoes in a lemon vinaigrette. He was pleased with it, though I was a little concerned on the price. Ah, it’s where we were, of course. I will say, it had far more crabmeat than I had anticipated.

So, there’s all that. Of course, it was time to get on with the Cheeseburger in Paradise ($9.95 with French fries or onion rings), and when I ordered it I had asked that it be “like the song and medium rare.” Out it came on its own special Cheeseburger in Paradise plate and everything on it just the way the song says -- with the Heinz 57 already on the table.

The lettuce was iceberg. The bun was seeded. The big chunk of tomato was impossibly red and the cheese -- a high quality American -- was melted into the meat. I almost ditched the white onions when I went to apply the Heinz, but realized that would defeat the purpose. The fries were skinless white dipping fries and the “big Kosher pickle” was a flat Vlassic-style slice.

Then there was the meat. I approved of the reddish tone that I could see through the bit of crust, though disappointed it was a griddle burger (I’d been hoping for flame broiled). It looked a little smashed on the outside, and when I went to see if the bun was toasted (it was) I noticed a little grill gristle common to hand patted smashers.

And for once I had ordered a burger medium rare that came out… not well done. The center of the burger was pink, a little more medium than medium rare but appreciably juicy. There wasn’t a whole heck of a lot of spice in that burger but I can appreciate it for what it was.

And I have to say, Buffett might have been onto something. Without the Heinz 57 that burger was just another burger. But with it, the burger became a nice hearty handful with a good and almost signature flavor.

It’s not a burger I would have gone a huge way out of the way for, but being there I could appreciate it for what it was worth. And now I can say I have had a Cheeseburger in Paradise.

Pieday Bonus -- 15 Best Pies for Serious Eats.

• KAT ROBINSON

Boy, I'm about to start an argument. I worked up an assignment for Serious Eats, which asked me to find the best pies in Arkansas. That's such a hard subject. I bypassed fried pies altogether and gave my 15 favorite pies in Arkansas. Believe me, I chewed my liver on this for some time.

I know, I know, I have certainly missed what you might consider the best pie in the state. Correct me. Tell me what fluffy meringue, what rich deep pecan, what tangy possum or thick custard pie I missed. I'm taking notes.

After all... today is Pi Day — 3.14.11.

Blogs to watch in Arkansas food

• MICHAEL ROBERTS
• ORDER UP: Shrimp Taco Salad with Black Bean Puree at Arkansas Foodies

There are a lot of blogs out there concerning Arkansas food. These dogged individuals are bringing you all sorts of different angles on everything from growing to consuming to pairing to... well, you get the general idea.

Jill and Kerry and the gang are covering the state's culinary travel for the state of Arkansas and the Department of Parks and Tourism over on the Arkansas Culinary Blog. Entries range from events you can attend around these parts to restaurant reviews to important state food announcements.

Michael at Arkansas Foodies has been doing a splendid job of combining delicious recipes with restaurant reviews and festival updates. Bonus: his fiance, Jessica Miller, is pretty darn good at food porn photography, too. You really should check his blog out.

I've been enjoying glancing over at Lindsey's Menu from time to time. There's no "about us" on it, just a post every day or so about a different recipe tried with a link to the recipe, results and a picture. That's pretty cool AND it meets the good blog rule: thou shall update the blogs you create.

At Terri's Table, it's Terri coming up with the recipes, and some of them are fantastic. I've been meaning to try out her recipe for Grandmother's Bread, made with ricotta cheese whey. Sounds delightful.

There's Dining with Debbie... I may have mentioned this blog before, but there's always something new. Along with other entries, Debbie does a "What's on the menu Wednesday" each week that covers some great recipes.

I have to note Lorri Hambuchen. I met her back in my TV days and know few who can rival her knowledge of wine. Her Conversations on Wine blog is a very informative. I've found a wealth of useful topics on her website — everything from how to buy a good wine to what to pair with it. I especially appreciate her blog on pairing wine with chocolate.

Wimpy's Burgers and Fries to open Conway location.

You may have noticed the work on the long abandoned Hardee's location on Highway 65 on the north side of Conway. The new tenant: Wimpy's Burgers and Fries, a hamburger chain named after J. Willington Wimpy, the popular character from the Popeye comic strips that used to promise "I will gladly pay you Tuesday for a hamburger today." The menu appears to be classic burgerama — burgers, hot dogs, shakes, fries (both battered and sweet potato), a concoction called "Balls and Bats" comprised of Cheddar balls and Mozzarella sticks, fried pickles and a Philly Cheese Steak.

I'm sure there will be some who'll go after the Triple Wimpy ($6.29), a three-patty with cheese wonder that's supposed to weigh more than a pound. Available burger toppings include Cheddar, Pepper Jack, American or Swiss cheeses (cheese seems to come in the price) — and (listed from the site) "Red Onion, Pickle, Lettuce, Tomato, Grilled Onions, Grilled Mushrooms, Grilled Pineapple, Jalapenos, Relish, Banana Peppers, BBQ, Honey Mustard, Ranch, Spicy Mustard, Ketchup, Mayo, Mustard, Hot Sauce."

The signs are going up now. The joint's supposed to open within the week. Will I check it out for you? Ya betcha. Until then, check out the restaurant website. Those folks are also Twittering.

One more note, for the record. I wonder if Conway has reached burger critical mass. Within one mile of Wimpy's there's already (let's see if I can pull all the locations from my feeble memory): McDonald's, Marketplace Grill (a decent Steakhouse Burger), Burger King, David's Butcher Boy Burgers, Wendy's, Sonic and Dairy Queen. Hmmm.

Pieday: Pecan at Your Mama's Good Food.

• KAT ROBINSON
• NUTTY: Pecan bits pack Your Mama's Good Food's pecan pie top to bottom

Ah, the pecan pie. Or Karo-nut pie. Or whatever you’d like to call it. We as Southerners (no matter what Food & Wine Magazine says about putting us in the Midwest) teeth on pecan pie. The depths of a good pecan suspension, the flavors of crust versus nuts are things that tenuate us towards who we are and what we will become. I do believe there’s a good part of pecan in most Arkansawyers (those with allergies set aside, of course).

To find a decent one is not hard — there’s a pretty standard recipe that most folks follow. To find a good one isn’t too challenging. To find a spectacular, unadulterated pie, though? That’s a rare thing.

So to find one in the most mundane of lunchtime spots in the middle of downtown Little Rock is heartening.

I stopped into Your Mama’s Good Food for lunch recently, catching the tail-end of the lunch rush. Of course, I wasn’t going to just check out the pie that had been recommended to me. I needed some vittles as well.

I got my tray, set up an iced tea and some silverware and met the nice gentleman behind the counter — who looked at me and said “fried chicken, macaroni and cheese and mashed potatoes.” I looked back, befuddled by how he had read me and then determined to throw him off.

“No, I’d like some black-eyed peas… wait, do they have ham in them?”

“Bacon.”

“Okay, well, green beans then.”

They were being put on the plate when someone else mentioned “they got bacon, too.” The beans got dumped, the plate got switched out, and I was left with choices again.

A gentleman from the back came up and quietly told me “there’s no bacon in there now, they’re just seasoned with pork.” Well, that didn’t help me much. I pointed at the fried chicken and the mashed potatoes. And…

“What’s that?”

“That’s vegetable spaghetti, that’s really good,” he told me, forking up a great deal of the pasta on my plate. It was decided for me.

A stop along the line at the dessert section (where the banana pudding sorely tempted me) for that piece of pecan pie and another stop at the end to pay up. “Roll or cornbread?” the lady at the counter asked. I thought she might have followed that up with a “sug,” but I wasn’t certain.

• KAT ROBINSON

My repast came to $10.95... a bit more than I expected but I paid up, doing the calculations in my head. $6.50 for meat and two veg and roll, $2.25 for the pie and a buck and a half for tea… yeah, that was about right.

• KAT ROBINSON

I had myself a seat and dug in, not realizing until that first bite of fried chicken breast just how hungry I had become. It was a flattened breast, breaded with flour and fried up golden brown, flaky chicken it was. The crust was a bit salty, but added to that gravy and a little bit of mashed potatoes and aw yeah. Those potatoes were a little lumpy like good hand-mashed potatoes, a little on the gold side.

• KAT ROBINSON

And that veggie… spaghetti, did he say? Was irresistible. I could just feel the butter migrating to my hips but I did not care. There were bits of mushroom and carrots and corn and peas in there, and I figured what the heck — there’s some vegetables for me. I probably should eat healthier, but what the heck.

• KAT ROBINSON

And then there was that roll. Geez, that roll, bigger than my fist and just barely able to keep its balance on the little plate it came on. Served up with real butter it was good, yeasty and flaky and pull-apart good. It was also good to push around some gravy with. And then it was good with some honey, too — we’re talking a roll three times the size of a conventional roll. Big roll.

But I was meaning to tell you about this pecan pie. This really dang good pecan pie that deserved its own accolade.

• KAT ROBINSON

Eschewing the pecans-on-top-of-pecan-custard bit, there were tiny bits of nut throughout, suspended in the Karo-nut custard and packed in to the surface, a single half on top to illustrate just what sort of nut had been dismembered for this pie project. The syrup had soaked into the crust for a delicious homogeny of flavor, all nut and syrup and a little salt in the sweetness, a sop-up-syrup in the morning sort of flavor, a hint of what might have been maple flavoring, a touch of vanilla.

• KAT ROBINSON

The texture is the thing, though. Instead of a pasty custard or a runny one, or even a gelatinous one, every single bite had those crushed pecans in it. It was quite lovely and divine. I’m all about that.

If’n you haven’t tried Your Mama’s Good Food, you should. Go park on the meter (it’s just 50 cents an hour) and get on there to 220 W. 4th Street, Suite 130. Right next to the Downtown Deli. I bet if you call (501) 372-1811 they’ll tell you what they’re servin’ up. They’re only open from 10:30 a.m. to 2 p.m. Monday through Friday.

Burger joint of the week: Thirst N Howl.

Okay, I have a significant pet peeve about waiters. I’ll air it right now: Unless you have a perfect photographic memory and a flawless record of error-less order-taking, do not attempt to take someone’s order without writing it down.

Two Bridges.

Rumbly old bridges have a place in my memory… bridges where the planks creaked under the weight of tires as you eased between metal railings over creek beds below, low-water trestles you were careful to aim straight on with no rail at all between vehicle and muddy passage. They were a fantastic fright and yet maintained a sort of beauty, dares to be taken across waterways and ravines.

Most of the old wooden bridges I recall from my youth have been replaced or just torn down and routed around. But there’s one in northwest Arkansas in the town of Beaver that’s still there… just as rumbly and rickety as ever, allowing a single vehicle to pass at a time.

The bridge is known as the Little Golden Gate Bridge. It’s painted yellow and hangs -- yes, hangs between two towers over the White River. The bridge is singular in Arkansas, the only single-lane suspension bridge you’ll find in the state. Some call it the “bridge to nostalgia.” Some call it a scary damn ride they’d rather not make again. I call it hauntingly beautiful.

The roadbed is wooden planks that creak when you head across them, no matter the weather. They sort of squeak a bit when it’s wet, creak when it’s dry and moan with a strong wind. There’s a stoplight on each end to tell you when it’s safe to cross -- and there’s no room for error. There are no wide load crossings on Highway 187 here -- the bridge is just 11 feet wide, but it’s 554 long and you don’t want to have to back across it, no way.



But the Little Golden Gate is the bridge people always recall at Beaver… and usually the other bridge, the one lost to time on the north side of town, is left for the dustiest of historians. Years of neglect have left the second bridge a mere shadow on the water. Both have their place in cinematic history.

You’re far more likely to recognize the Little Golden Gate because of a popular movie. The year was 2005. Orlando Bloom was a hot property at the cinema, and Elizabethtown was the show. I can see why Cameron Crowe chose to include the image of this bridge and the tiny town beyond it as part of Drew’s journey. If you haven’t seen the movie, you should, just for that bit.

I first came upon the bridge by utter surprise last March. I spend a good deal of my free time in Eureka Springs, soaking up a bit of Ozarkian peace before heading back into the wilds of the city as I tend to do. This time around my husband and I were staying out at Holiday Island. We were coming back in from lunch in Eureka Springs and missed the turn-off, rolling across Highway 187 and coming around this curve and seeing this beautiful yellow bridge far below.

We didn’t realize it was a single lane until we were almost upon it, seeing the green light and rolling right onto the planks, all creaking and squawking as we nervously crossed. On the other side we pulled into the riverfront park, got our bearings and took a few photos. I made note that I needed to travel back here again to see this wonder and to properly tell its story.

In the interim I learned more about the bridge. It was built in 1949, almost 100 years after William A. Beaver settled at the crossing at Rector’s Place. Beaver would go on to open an inn and grist mill and a ferry to cross the White River there.

I returned again in January with my photographer, a couple of days after a snowfall, eager to see whether we’d be directed elsewhere for our river crossing. We’d come via Highway 62 east of Gateway and were expecting to be turned back. But the snow had melted plenty and the bridge was clear.

I was expecting to hear the delighted gasps of sighting the bright yellow bridge in the distance… but instead I realized I did not have his attention. That stare was relegated to the north to the forgotten rail trestle that crossed from Beaver on the west bank through a chiseled passage through the east bank’s cliff. The cold hard tones of winter had set in, and it was like looking at a sepia photograph of something forgotten. I keep using that word, “forgotten,” and it seems apt.

The Beaver Railroad Bridge had been built in 1907 by the Wisconsin Bridge & Iron Co. -- but its usefulness passed decades ago. It was a through-truss bridge, a main span and an approach span mounted upon rock-constructed piers across the deeper part of the river, wooden pile bents sequentially standing from where the bridge was once whole back as far as the RV park above and alongside the White. The decking is long gone.

I would later learn this bridge too had its claim to fame, being one of the many locations shot in the 1982 TV mini-series The Blue and the Gray.

There was a quietness about the day… no motion save the wind, no noise save the call of birds. Below my feet was just wet sand and minute mussel shells.



The sheer size and scale of the bridges… is odd. The old rail bridge when you are down to the water’s edge is imposing. The Little Golden Gate on the other hand seems delicate, almost fraught with anxiety above the currents. Yet coming from the east you rarely notice the rail bridge, and if so only once you’re past the white-knuckling of the suspension bridge crossing. From the west, you have to be looking in your rear-view.

Still, they are there, frozen in time much like the quaint little community they both share. In warmer weather I’m sure the river is full of boats and people and the RV park may not have a single space free.

All so quiet, just north of Eureka Springs with its tourist-fueled optimism and bluster, yet still so worthy of the drive.

You’ll find the Little Golden Gate Bridge and the Beaver Railroad Bridge at Beaver, AR. To get there, head four miles north of Eureka Springs on Highway 23 and turn left onto Highway 187. It’s about two and a half miles to Beaver.

Alternately, from Gateway take Highway 62 seven and a half miles to Highway 187 and turn left. Beaver is four and a half miles down.

Pieday: Cinnamon cream at Franke's Cafeteria

• KAT ROBINSON
• LIGHT AND SPICE-FULL: Franke's Cafeteria's Cinnamon Cream Pie

• KAT ROBINSON

If there were ever an unheralded pie place in Little Rock, I would suspect Franke’s would be it. The state’s longest continually operating family-owned restaurant (since 1919) serves up not just all sorts of fabulous Arkansas fare, there are always at least a dozen different sorts of pie out and ready to go when you pass through the line. I can almost close my eyes and count off what’s in line in the case… almost always the same order… Lemon Meringue, Pecan, Sweet Potato, Brownie, Custard, Chocolate Pecan on top and all the cobblers and cream pies on the bottom — banana, chocolate, coconut, Key Lime, strawberry pie topped with whipped cream… sometimes there’s another sort here and there thrown in for good measure, seasonal pies like cherry or blueberry or such. Always so many pies.

But there’s one pie Franke’s offers that I have seen nowhere else, outside of the occasional family gathering. That amazing pie is the Cinnamon Cream.

• KAT ROBINSON

Oh, certainly I have tried all the different sorts of pies. I do like the denseness of the Brownie pie with its topping of marshmallows and the almost frothy cream of the Coconut Cream. The Lemon Meringue is perfectly performed, and the pecan a smooth Karo-nut symphony of Southern delight.

• KAT ROBINSON

But that Cinnamon Cream is a house specialty. I have missed it a time or two — coming at dinner when Franke’s has run out for the day. There was a brief time it wasn’t actually out on the bar. I choked back my emotions and made another decent yet not quite as good choice.

If you’ve had it you know what I mean. It’s impossibly light, barely cloying and yet the most perfect representation of a cinnamon roll in any other medium I have come across. There are all the flavors, the cinnamon and nutmeg and butter, all delicately balanced and layered into a housemade shell. From the bottom up it’s graham cracker, cinnamon, a sweet vanilla custard and cinnamon, a lighter custard and a frothy whipped cream and a little more cinnamon graham crumble on the top.

It might appear to be tiramisu-like. It is not. It might appear to be a cross between a banana pudding and banana cream pie. It is not. It is, in my mind, the best use of cinnamon in a pie shell. And I have yet to be able to replicate it perfectly.

That’s why there have been times I’ve dropped in and passed through the line, past the congealed salads and the entrees and peas and such, just to get a piece of pie in a Styrofoam box to take home with me. It’s a very special treat. It comes recommended.

You’ll find Franke’s Cafeteria in the Market Street Shopping Center on Rodney Parham in Little Rock — and also downtown in the bottom of the Regions Building at Broadway and Capital. For more information check out the website.

Burger joint of the week: Crazee's Cool Cafe

• KAT ROBINSON
• LOTS OF 'SHROOMS: Mushroom Burger at Crazee's Cool Cafe

I’ve been taking reader recommendations for where I should go to find the state’s best burgers, and one of my Facebook fanssuggested I head back over to Crazee’s Cool Café. I’d been before, having given the daily plate lunch special a try and having a divine time with the chicken spaghetti. Of course, when I get the chance I am always willing to indulge a friendly reader.

Headed over on a Thursday afternoon to give it a shot. Crazee’s has a burger special it offers every weekday for lunch — any burger, fries and a beverage for $7.50. And there are several to choose from, including a Mexican burger, an Italian, a Cheeseburger and a Hamburger and a Bacon Cheeseburger and a BBQ Burger. On the recommendation of the waitress I went for the Mushroom Burger. She brought me an impossibly big cup of tea and I waited.

• KAT ROBINSON

I didn’t wait too long. Packed down into a paper-lined basket, it didn’t look like much at first, just a mass of whatever under a seeded bun. Tip back the top, though, and I realized I had something big on my hands. It didn’t look so large at first because the fries were even with the top of the burger.

• KAT ROBINSON

Under that lid, though — a mass of mushrooms. Mind you, they were button mushrooms and I bet they came from a can but there was a mess of them, a real hot mess. They were crowned with a mess of translucent onions and planted on top of a piece of Swiss cheese melted right into the top of the burger patty.

• KAT ROBINSON

But wait — there was more. When I turned the burger to the side to take another shot, I noticed the big slice of tomato and the mess of iceberg lettuce tucked under the patty. The bun itself was toasted, there was a layer of mayo on the bottom and the whole thing was a good three and a half to four inches tall.

• KAT ROBINSON

Problem with this sort of burger is just a matter of getting it to the mouth… the sheer slickness of all those ingredients together was just so much. I finally sucked it up, got my hands under it and took a bite. It was juicy as hell and that juice slipped between my fingers and down on those fries… but that was awesome. The burger was nicely done, and I swear there was onion in the actual patty of the burger. No doubt at all the burger had been cooked with onions and cooked well; the caramelized onion flavor was strong. I might have suspected some French onion soup mix in there — and there is that possibility, but I more suspect it’s just real onions, that’s all. There was also a good deal of salt and pepper in the patty, and that cheese tied it all nicely together.

• KAT ROBINSON

I wish I could gush on about the fries similarly. They looked like pleasing yellow pencil fries, but there was something strange about them. They were a little soft on the outside but they also bore a little bit of a greasy taste within. Perhaps the oil wasn’t quite hot enough when they went in, I’m not sure.

What I was sure of was that I didn’t really need any fries. That third-of-a-pound or thereabouts patty and all those dang mushrooms and onions quite succinctly and happily filled me up. I really didn’t need anything else.

My lunch was indeed $7.50 (tax is figured into the amount) and I passed nine over to my waitress at the counter. It was a good lunch.

Here’s the thing, though. There will be people who will say they’ll never try this burger, because it’s served up in a bar that’s 21 and older and allows smoking. And that’s a shame. It really is a good burger and worthy of a shot. Mayhaps you can order one for pick-up if you’re unable to dine within?

You’ll find Crazee’s Cool Café at 7626 Cantrell Road in Little Rock, about a block down from Hunka Pie. (501) 221-9696.

The Pause.

I talk a lot about my adventure and journey here on Tie Dye Travels, frankly because it’s the sort of thing I like to share. I want to be able to share with you these neat places I’ve been, the things I’ve experienced and the cuisine I’ve consumed.

What I don’t talk about a lot are the personal things… the sort of thing I just don’t feel comfortable talking about with strangers. But I am stymied and I figure I need to write this out so I can move on to my next piece of work.

I’m scared of surgery. I’ve undergone small dental operations and those are just fine. Three times I’ve had surgery that required anesthesia… the removal of my impacted wisdom teeth, my gall bladder and a colonoscopy. And then there was my C-section a couple of years ago… something I was utterly unprepared for mentally and which took some time to come to grips with. Surgery is not something I head into electively.

This past Monday I was informed I needed exploratory surgery to find and repair a hernia. I was surprised that I was slated in for three days later… in fact, I will go in tomorrow morning and have this procedure done. I will be admitted, prepped, put under and cut upon laproscopically. If it’s something small I’ll have a suture or two. If it’s big, there will be a bit of screen inserted, requiring a bit more cutting. There’s no way to know until my doctor gets in there and checks it out.

Hernia operations are pretty routine -- my husband underwent one in 2001 for an umbilical hernia and came out of it all right. But I’m still nervous about it.

For one, I don’t like being “put under.” The whole loss-of-control thing is a big portion of this sensation. Anything could happen while I am unconscious and there’s nothing I can do about it. It’s not that I don’t trust my doctors… it’s my inability to participate in the waking world that is an issue. At least when I enter normal sleep I can be easily wakened.

For two, it’s incapacitation. I’m a working girl. I get up every morning, write what I need to get written for the day and then work on other projects. That usually requires initiative to get up and get ready, sometimes getting my daughter ready as well, going out in the world and doing my research -- whether eating a meal, touring a location or conducting an interview -- and returning home to put it all together in a coherent manner.

I thought I was going to be in decent enough shape today, the day before my surgery, to cover the Diamond Chef competition Pulaski Technical College is hosting over at the Peabody… a combination of bad reaction to surgery prep, pain from my gut and likely nerves put an end to that ambition. I hate that, because Diamond Chef is one of my favorite events of the year.

Instead, it will be a few days minimum before I get back out into the world. I’m hoping everything goes smoothly so I can come home tomorrow afternoon and recuperate; after all, I have that Henry Awards banquet Tuesday night I am really looking forward to (though I realize how slim my chances are of actually receiving this year’s Media Support Award, being named a finalist is just this huge honor and I feel compelled to be there). I have stories I want to pursue and appearances to make on TV and radio.

And I fear that not keeping up with the relentless schedule of writing, researching and pitching stories to publications will slow and even stop my momentum. I’ve risked a whole lot going into this career, and it all depends on me -- my discipline, my dedication and my ability to continue and persevere through any setback. For me there is no vacation plan, no sick days package. If I am down there is no income on my part. And I fear losing my place in the media shuffle.

Will that keep me from having this surgery my doctor deems necessary? No. As much as I fear surgery and dislike the idea of being put under, I will do what needs to be done. And hopefully on the other side of things I will be better for it, better able to push on and get my work done, provide for my family and forward myself in my career. I believe anyone who’s made the step into freelancing has these sort of thoughts on the matter.

UPDATE: Well, it wasn't a hernia -- that's the good news. The crack staff at Baptist managed to get me through the surgical process and my doctor seems to have done a fine job of removing scar tissue from my C-section. It's a situation called abdominal adhesion, where scar tissue spider-webs around the abdominal cavity. Today I am sore but resting and back to writing again. The good news is I should have a quicker recovery time.

Thank you for your wellwishes and for assuaging my fears. I'll be back on the road soon.

Arkansauce is out.

The inaugural issue of Arkansauce, the Journal of Arkansas Foodways is out. The University of Arkansas Libraries’ special collections department production, guest edited by Rex Nelson (himself the proud writer of the Southern Fried Blog) contains lots of neat and interesting articles. Today's release from the University shares this: "Arkansauce is a mix of popular and semi-scholarly articles, heavily illustrated with original documents, drawings and photographs. It focuses on topics such as food history, nutrition, cooking, customs, table manners, chefs, food producers and production, restaurants, cookbooks, recipes, menus for both ordinary and special occasions, the culinary heritage of minority groups, immigrants, and specific geographic regions of Arkansas, as well as food-related poetry, mythology, and literature."

You can get yours for free... drop a line toverobert@uark.edu and request yours. More information on the University's website.

Travels to the Silk Road Grill.

• GRAV WELDON
• UNLIKE ANY OTHER: Sambosa at Silk Road Grill

If you were to tell me there was a halfway decent Indian restaurant in Arkansas outside of the magical Indian mile in Little Rock (which includes Star of India, Amruth Authentic Indian Cuisine and Taj Mahal) I would be doubtful. Or at least, I woulda been. That is, until a few weeks ago.

• GRAV WELDON

Fort Smith — known for its healthy smattering of Vietnamese and Thai restaurants and for the indomitable Calico County — has its own couple of Indian joints that have recently opened. There are a couple… Curry Express — which turns out to also be R&R Curry Express, the Indian restaurant and barbecue joint slash convenience store on Rogers just outside of downtown — and Silk Road Grill.

I’ve had friends bugging me for a while about Silk Road. They know of my affection for Indian cuisine and my almost metabolic need for a good curry fix. But I was skeptical. I’ve been to bad Indian restaurants before — thankfully none here, but I do recall certain Memphian experiences I’d far rather forget.

Let’s just say my fears have been abolished.

Dropped in on Silk Road on a Monday afternoon after the lunch rush. Looked through the menus, waited and waited and waited… service was slow. I was trying not to let that cloud my thoughts, since I was ever so hungry and the place smelled fabulous.

So our waitress came over, and my dining companion asked for some mint chutney. She told him they were fresh out… but when she saw his disappointment she disappeared — without taking our order. She came back out a few minutes later and told us they were going to see what they could do.

She took our orders, but with some reservations. My dining companion asked for the Lamb Vindaloo and Curry combination and was told they didn’t have the curry but he could have the vindaloo. I ordered the Quabili Palau and Kofte combination and was told the Quabili Palau wasn’t available — but that I could substitute something else for it, so I asked for Chicken Qurma instead.

• GRAV WELDON

We placed our orders and waited. And waited. I’m apparently pretty patient, because 45 minutes passed while we were waiting for even a naan sighting. Then again, the other customers in the place were taking their time, too.

And then we had our first course delivered, an order of sambosa ($5.49) delivered with not just the cilantro chutney offered with it but with fresh mint chutney. Our waitress told us it was just something the chef had managed to whip up — but it was amazing, a nice puree of fresh mint and spices that was… it was awesome. I saw why my dining companion had insisted on it. Yet he still told me this wasn’t the exact chutney he’d had before.

• GRAV WELDON

The sambosa… frankly, with the description on the menu (“pastry triangles stuffed with potatoes, chick peas,

• GRAV WELDON

scallions, ground beef and spices”) I was expecting more of the pre-made triangle samosas I’ve received elsewhere. Not these. Obviously hand-made, they were packed with a chunky green paste of the aforementioned items, far closer to the historical ideal of meat-in-a-pastry-pocket from the Hindustani regions of the subcontinent (think 17th Century Pakistan border) than what we get these days. The filling was delightfully complex with notes of cardamom and anise amongst those scallions and chick peas. And the mint chutney just elevated it.

• GRAV WELDON

Then there was the naan, which was a great departure from the almost yeasty naan I get around Central Arkansas. This was a coarse besan-type flatbread coated with a lacquering of warm ghee that pooled in its wrinkles and pockets. It tore in two layers, almost chapati-like. I wondered if it had inflated whilst in the tandoor.

There was also salad, a light romaine-and-tomato salad. But it seems weird to talk about salads when there was so much good Indian fare around.

• GRAV WELDON

I was so happy with the sambosa, naan and chutney I almost filled up on said items before our dishes arrived. And when they did arrive they were followed by the chef, who explained our dishes to us. The Lamb Vindaloo ($10.99), he explained, was originally a Portugese dish brought to India in the 17th Century and adopted 

• GRAV WELDON

strongly in the southwestern state of Goa. The original dish, Carne de Vinha d’Alhos, was made with pork which just wouldn’t have done with the non-pork-consuming folks… this particular dish was less red than I have seen before, with the spices and such almost pureed into the sauce and no potatoes (I‘ve been told potatoes don‘t actually belong in the dish but sometimes get there because “aloo” means potato — don’t tell Paul, he’ll be heartbroken). It was scent-tifically spice-full with a heady dose of chillies and fennugreek seeds and probably a bit spicier than I would care for on any particular day.

• GRAV WELDON

I had chosen well, but I was also quite surprised. My favorite dish locally is Chicken Tikka Korma — I love the cashew-nut sauce and the flavors of the tandoor in my chicken, so this is a natural for me. The Chicken Qurma (Murgh Qurma more properly, actually presented that way on the menu, good for them, for $8.99) was not the dish I’d had before. The chicken was tandoor’d, lovingly roasted with a yogurt scent. It was encased in this magnificent sauce with so many layers of flavor… not just nutmeats but coconut milk, not just yogurt but fresh ginger and turmeric. It was delightful yet unlike any example of the dish I’d had before. 

• KAT ROBINSON

Our chef told us it was Murgh Shahi Qurma, the Shahi meaning “for the king,” which is why it included things that would have been expensive for the Mughlai empire like coconut, nuts and fresh spices. He mentioned the Afghani influence.

I have to admit, I was starting to get a crush on the chef… someone who cooked in an Indian restaurant who knew as much and probably more about historic Indian cuisine than I did. I was blown away.

• KAT ROBINSON

And then there was the Kofte… not the usual lamb meatballs in tangy sauce I am used to but pliant long-stewed meatloaf balls of spice and lamb meat. Almost like pot roast in flavor. It’s hard to describe, frankly, to be completely just. But these were definitely not from some commercial preparation. They melted on the tongue.

• GRAV WELDON

I even have to mention the rice. It was cumin-scented rice, I kid you not, long grained but with tiny bits of cumin seed, enough to flavor it and make it a true compliment to the dishes I’d ordered. I also had a side dish of stewed squash that just about made me cry, but I am certainly going on too long about the whole thing, anyway.

Now, mind you, the waits had lengthened lunch from the expected hour to over two hours and I was behind the rest of the day. But I suspect a lot of that had to do with the chutney. I mean, the mint was fresh — startlingly fresh. I wonder if hearing about my dining companion’s insistence upon having the chutney if someone didn’t make a run to the store. It would explain part of the wait.

Then again, the other part would be that the dishes just took time, and I could buy that. I really could.

Silk Road doesn’t just do Indian… it does Mediterranean, with Spanikopita and Baba Ganouj and Falafel and the like. There are sandwiches. But I urge you, try the Indian fare. Just do it.

You’ll find Silk Road Grill at 4300 Rogers Avenue in Fort Smith. It’s tucked back behind a couple of other businesses in the back left corner of the Green Pointe Shopping Center on the south side of the road. Call (479) 494-3041 or check out the restaurant’s website.