After a few days in Nashville we moved on to my sister’s house hours outside Nashville in the certifiable boonies. They moved from the exurbs of Seattle a few years ago and left New Orleans in 2006.
When her husband and I chatted, I revisited the subject of Pies For Profit, my suggestion that he make his glorious pies as a business. This conversation goes way back to his days in New Orleans, when he brought various pies to family dinners. Now that he is retired I brought it up again. These were the days before IG and social media, and pop-ups. I suggested starting out at a farmer’s market. He was completely uninterested in this idea, but he started talking about farmer’s markets within driving distance. Then he mentioned a farmer’s co-op for Amish farms. “Whooooaa!” I said. “Back up. Did you say Amish???”
I am obsessed with the purity and glory of Amish produce. If there was an Amish farm anywhere around I wanted to see it. Years ago in Pennsylvania, ML and I went to Amish roadside stands manned by kids on the side of the road in front of the family farm, where they sold eye-popping produce. I had no idea there was an Amish community in Tennessee. We had to go.
My brother-in-law was all in. Even though he was driving us to the airport later, he offered to take us to the co-op, called Englewood Farm Market outside Athens Tennessee. It was set back off the highway down a dirt road.
There were animals for sale outside the market, and inside were wall-to-wall bins of gigantic produce
and walls lined with canned items like tomato sauce and pumpkin puree,
as well as homemade sauerkraut.
We found ourselves at a section for natural remedies for every ailment, from burns to bee stings, and of course things to make you look younger.
I saw bags of flour from whole grains and cornmeal, all at prices well below anything from the supermarket. It was two levels, with buggies coming in at a lower level unloading, and people carrying produce up the stairs like a basement for placement for sale. There was wooden furniture and some rugs on one end.
My sister became tormented by three kittens in the animal section. She is pet-free after the recent death of a cat, but they were so cute…They also thought about chickens, but aren’t quite ready for that.
If I had a way to get any of it back safely, I would have been on a spending spree. Pure and beautiful everything cheaper than the commercial poisons in the store? No-brainer. There is a smokehouse and fresh meat market nearby. We left with two kinds of cookies, peanut butter, and something called Farmer's Favorite, which had everything from coconut to walnuts to chocolate in it. I hate to admit it, but pure cookies are not as tasty as the poisonous ones from the store.
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We passed a Mayfield Dairy on the way back. I was shocked to see it there, because I was under the impression the one we loved north of Atlanta was the flagship. This one in Athens is. After perusing all the cow-themed merch we got a chocolate shake to split and sat outside to revel in it.
We returned to the house for a bit. My sister’s property is fabulous, with various trees and a hill with woods, and a view of the Tennessee River out front. She showed me a black walnut tree and I asked about the walnuts.
She brought one to me to show the layers before you actually get to the nut. I was fascinated by this large thing that looked like an unripe citrus fruit. It did have a mild citrus scent. She warned me to beware getting any of it on my clothes because the black mushy interior outside the nut stained. It was too late for my hands, which are stained like an old man who has smoked his whole life. There was even a black ring under my nail where it meets the finger. I had to cut all my nails to the quick, and will keep scrubbing them until and if they return to normal. I brought one home to dry out the nut and try it. She warned me to not get too excited. I’m also not too excited about the rock hard pear I picked up under the pear trees.
After a hike up the mountain we grabbed our things to go to the airport. I never did make it to Peg Leg Porker, or Bringle’s Smoking Oasis to have Nashville barbecue. At the airport I did get to have a pulled pork sandwich from PigStar, the airport outpost from Cary Bringle’s Peg Leg Porker. I also saw Party Fowl, a place I’ve been curious about since my last trip to Nashville.
I packed up the sandwich from another concourse, and we sat at Party Fowl which was luckily right across from our gate. We got some pimento cheese at Party Fowl.
The sandwich did not look like much, but it had a great flavor. This is not something I’m ever inclined to get, but the sister who flew back with me was not eating, so a barbecue plate would be all mine.
I liked the sandwich, though the pulled pork was in shreds. It was moist with juices that softened the bun. One could do worse than this, especially for $8.
The pimento cheese was an enormous pile, served with jam and Saltine crackers. Thick crunchy pickles were on the side. These were great pickles, and the jam was fine. The pimento cheese was loaded with all kinds of things that added crunch and texture, but the pimento cheese itself was too “loose” for me. And this was the second version of the local dish that had defined shreds of cheese in it. That’s always a deal breaker for me.
We couldn’t help but finish all of it that we had crackers for spreading, but once those ran out we called it a wrap. I have to admit this was tasty. The chicken looked good, and Party Fowl remains on my list for when I am hungrier.
We left with one of us eager to return and the other quite satisfied with the one visit. I’m not much of a music fan, but it’s a happy place and very vibrant. The next time I return I will do my own eating.
