…at least, that’s it according to the sign at Road Side Bar-B-Que in Birmingham
A while back, they repainted the image of the gentlemen next to the pit, and they look different than before — now:
before:
Cathedral of Junk
One of my other Austin friends, Scott — who has his own art environment — took me to visit his friend Vince who is the creator of the Cathedral of Junk.
Because Scott and Vince have been friends for so long, we got to visit for a long time (and Scott had called him earlier in the week about coming over for a while). But before I get too far ahead, it’s absolutely imperative that visitors call before they visit — Vince’s number is 512-299-7413 and he’s pretty adamant about people having appointments. He’s kind, but he’s serious about a minimum of disruption to the neighborhood. When a couple of cars full of people showed up to see him while Scott and I were visiting, he sent them away, even though they explained they were only in town for a day or two and were from different states. Besides Vince’s sanity, there’s another reason for that…
He’s been working on the cathedral since the late 80s, and then around 2010, there were complaints. City inspectors came in and made a big deal about safety and permits, neighbors were apparently complaining about the parking situation and total strangers showing up whenever in the neighborhood.
Vince had to start taking the cathedral down — volunteers came out and helped. At one point, he was just sick of the whole thing. But finally the city relented, no doubt due in large part to community outrage that part of what helps Keep Austin Weird was being stomped on.
From The Statesman in June 2010:
Hanneman said he is happy that the structure will remain an Austin landmark but said working through the city bureaucracy was unnecessarily complicated. “This is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do,” he said. “It was like a cross between a divorce and a death.”
There are several different ways around, ways up to the top, and pathways with colorways
A must-do in Austin. You could spend an hour or a few hours and of course you’re never going to see it all. Fab.
Big, big, big thanks to Scott for arranging my visit and to Vince for being so kind and hanging out while showing us his work. xoxo!
The Driskill Hotel in Austin, Lockhart Barbecue, Franklin, and Round Rock
When a friend and I were talking about uber-Texas venues to have a wedding in Austin, I instantly thought of the Driskill. Our family has stayed there a couple of times before and it’s beautiful. I shared this room with a sweet friend of mine who lives in San Antonio now.
…but even prettier are the common areas at the hotel.
The pic below can be clicked through for an album of images from this and previous stays at the Driskill:
The last time we made our annual Texas trip, Av did the big three in Lockhart, as usual.
BTW, Aaron Franklin was interviewed by Eater for where he’d go for a barbecue roadtrip (and what he’d get there) and the first stop on the list was Kreuz.
We happened to get the same things Aaron suggested from his list — pork chop, prime rib, sausage — but we weren’t fans of the prime rib at all. Stick with the pork chop here.
My fave, Black’s (because they have those huge bronto-size beef ribs)
beef ribs at Black’s all day, every day.
and Smitty’s
hot ring yesssss
The boys and I watched a movie another day while Av survived the line at Franklin in Austin, and he felt as though his hours-long wait was worth it (plus it sounds like he made some friends). The brisket. The brissssketttttt yesssssss.
Notice no sides on any of the barbecue stops. That was enough meat to put anybody in everlasting ketosis, I think. Anyway, on our way out the next day, we did decide it was time to sneak some carbs so we made it to Round Rock Donuts which were a-maz-ing.
I guess we could have thought about splitting a Texas-sized one with six other families, but…
We tried some doughnut holes (yummm)
…and we each got a flavored one for later. Chocolate sprinkles for Shugie.
Calling Ex-Boyfriends
Earlier this year, I was invited to a wedding at The Driskill in Austin — I was one of the people who suggested the hotel as *the* perfect super-Texas venue, so I was really looking forward to seeing a bunch of friends…friends at the wedding, and friends I know from elsewhere.
Thinking about the trip one day, out of the blue, I messaged an ex-boyfriend who lives there now to see if he wanted to get together on the Friday I was flying in, for a late lunch before the rehearsal supper.
Oh.
But that was so much harder than it sounds.
So much harder. During school, we’d spent a couple of just super-fun years of being together, but I realized that it wasn’t going to work out long term. I could-not-waitttt to get my degrees, start my career, move away and have a big life, and he didn’t have those kinds of aspirations — he trusted that college and career and those kinds of things were just going to come together without having to think or work too hard at it. He wasn’t religious and didn’t have fantasies about kids and fun trips, while I was literally filling notebooks with what I thought a beautiful life would look like. We were fun at 19 but I realized it wasn’t for keeps.
I wanted that guy I was dreaming about in my notebooks. The one who knew what ‘scattered, smothered, and covered’ meant *and* who knew Maimonides’ eight levels of charity. Well rounded, y’all.
So. One summer, my boyfriend and I broke up. We went our own directions. We weren’t upset at each other, just moving on.
But it got even more complicated.
At the end of the summer, he had a terrible accident and broke his neck. I was at a friend’s house when I got the news. It was just so casual. “Did you know he hit a tree and broke his neck?” and I remember a weird little yelp escaped from my throat. I had to get to the hospital.
It was terrible. He was alive, but paralyzed. His hands were all curled up, he couldn’t move anything, and he was in one of those metal halos.
I walked in the door and that was it: we were a team again. I canceled all my classes and my residence was a vinyl hospital chair. Time stood still for weeks, for months. We read the big red collection of Allen Ginsberg poems over and over (‘A Supermarket in California’ — our fave — maybe a million times), we listened to music, we told stories based on fact and made up others with fantastical endings.
More time went by as he was discharged to rehab, then was able to come back to our hometown. There was more rehab there.
As months went by, I saw our friends going back and forth to wherever their universities were. One day at his house, I admitted that while I didn’t want to leave him, I was scared. I needed to finish my last two years of college. I’d worked enough minimum-wage fast food and summer factory jobs while going to school (ohmygoooosh that summer I spent between freshman year and sophomore year at an un-airconditioned factory at which I was literally tethered by the wrists to metal-bending press machine the size of a small car) to know it wasn’t just going to fall into place if I didn’t get back on track.
It was weird, because after the wreck, we never ‘got back together’ or talked about being a couple, so it’s not like we had to break up again.
He told me it was okay.
(above: my dorm room with pics of him. Clements Hall obviously didn’t yet know the fab of the Ole Miss dorm makeover.)
Here’s what happened: I went back to school and felt guilty for leaving. So I put off calling. And then I felt even more guilty for going a few days without calling that I didn’t have the courage to call him then. And so on.
I knew he was going to be okay, but I was afraid just the fact that I had been doing things was going to be hurtful. He was stuck in a bed or at rehab, and I was running off to classes and trying to fake being a regular college kid. When I wasn’t cramming material for assignments or working a register somewhere, I was horseback riding and eating at Taco Bell at odd hours and spending time with other kids our age who hadn’t had anything crazy happen. We weren’t just two teens in a time capsule anymore. Guilt ate me alive. I felt like such a faker to everyone: everything’s awesome! while inside I have a hole in my heart the size of a teenage boy.
Years ago, we friended on FB but I had no idea what he was up to, other than he was living in Austin.
So I messaged him about lunch. And he offered to pick me up from the airport.
And oh. He parked, stood up, and walked (not perfectly, but ohmygosh he.can.walk!) over. It was like nothing ever happened. He even had some of our old music playing in the car. It was the 90s all over again. It was good having our team back.
There was a point, though, I told him how crazy sorry I was for leaving him so I could finish school, and for not knowing how to navigate both those worlds. He understood. He was still the person who figured things were just going to work out.
We had a great weekend. We had lunch at Lonesome Dove (okay I have to put some more pics in this post. Here’s the restaurant — you’ve probably seen owner Tim Love on telly):
elk -foie sliders with blueberry jam — yummmm
some of the best bread everrr
meatloaf — meh
brisket with Mexican street corn — the brisket was meh too but the corn was out of this world good.
He showed me some of Austin, then when it was time, dropped me off at the Driskill so I could get ready for the rehearsal party, which was fun.
The next day he texted and asked me if he could take me to Salt Lick, so we did that:
ribssssss were soooo goood (Av says since I’ve shown him these pics and told him about it, he’s totally ready to go to Salt Lick — we have a yearly Texas trip which of course includes a trip to Lockhart, but he’s ready to include Driftwood now)
…and I got shug the fab B R I S K E T tee there.
He’s super happy. He has a girlfriend, Austin suits him great, he has this big circle of friends, and he does what he enjoys. I called his mom when I got home and it was so good. So, so good.
And I didn’t realize then, but those notebooks I filled with ideas about the future with a beautiful family life…turns out I met that guy and married him (and yes, Av knows those eight levels *and* the way to order hashbrowns at Waffle House (even though he just likes them plain)).
So call your ex-boyfriends. ha! Not really. Okay, maybe. Alright, do it. If you do, I hope it turns out this great.
Oh, and:
We talked about what I could bring back for Av and the boys, and he suggested Voodoo Doughnuts which was just down from the Driskill. I think EVERYbody in the airports (AUS –> DFW –> BHM) who knew what that pink box meant was totally jealous.
A girlfriend and I stood in line to get them that Sunday morning — they’re open 24/7, even. Cash only.
This awesome Mona Superhero 8’x16′ duct tape masterpiece was on one wall
That’s a tribute doughnut — whenever someone famous passes away, they create a big doughnut with their likeness. They’re not for sale.
I had one of the plain ones once I got home, and it was fab. All the ones I got were yeast doughnuts, and everybody was super-happy with what I picked out. Voodoo puts fresh stuff on IG all the time.
Also on Sunday: another friend took me to Palvos where they have their own salsa bar, and to the Cathedral of Junk — I’ll post pics from that visit soon. Faaaab.
(from Supermarket in California:) Where are we going, Walt Whitman? The doors close in a hour. Which way does your beard point tonight?
This Week’s Various 06.11.17
As always, all images unless otherwise noted are copyright DeepFriedKudzu. Like to use one? Contact me.
At the beta Google Arts & Culture site, one may view an exhibit of Bill Traylor works at the High.
From the Chicago Tribune: Hundreds attend dedication of a 10-story mural for bluesman Muddy Waters
Above: brisket from Franklin (Av survived the line last summer) and #spoileralert: of course they’re still on that top 10 list
Texas Monthly’s new list of the best barbecue joints in Texas is out
The only museum dedicated to telling the story of the prohibition era has opened in Savannah. And they have a speakeasy, too.
The Daily Tarheel with how Public arts investments revitalize N.C. and on how Vollis Simpson’s whirligig park has brought about development:
Since the start of the project, about $25 million in private and public development has sprung up within a two block radius of the park. Curran said Hi-Dollar, an old tobacco warehouse next to the park, is being renovated into about 90 apartments, four retail shops and a restaurant. The project costs about $12 million, and the building will be called the Whirligig Station.
“If that park were not here, we would not be here,” Curran said. “If that park were not here, I don’t know that other developments in downtown would be happening as quickly as they are now.”
Food & Wine visits Louie Mueller BBQ in Taylor, Texas and talks with Wayne about switching careers to come home to run the family business:
“I could sign an $8 million-dollar sponsorship deal with my owner, and his response would be ‘That’s great. What else are you working on?’ I can cut off an end piece of brisket for someone who’s never had it, and they have one of those epiphanies—eyes roll to the back of the head, speaking in tongues. It’s real, it’s right there. It’s true gratitude that I haven’t been able to find in many other aspects of life…It’s easy to lose track of who you are, where you came from, why you are what you are, what really means anything to you. In a place like this, all of those questions are answered almost immediately. You know what you’re doing and why you’re doing it.”
There’s a bungalow one may rent to spend the night at Finster’s Paradise Garden.
NPR’s Weekend Edition talks with Frank Stitt and Clayton Sherrod about Southern food and Birmingham but really the most powerful point here is Sherrod’s story about a family experience.
Yes to Epicurious’ 100 Greatest Home Chefs of All Time — a great list, though I wish they had included Eugene Walter.
EUGENE WALTER: LAST OF THE BOHEMIANS (APT version) from Robert Clem on Vimeo.
I don’t even *know* the last time I had any Rose’ but apparently it’s time to go to Aldi. And Krispy Kreme jelly beans are a thing.
Pinterest tells “what people in each state love proportionally more than people in the others” for brunch, and here you go.
From The Guardian: Brandon Thibodeaux spent eight years living with and photographing a number of families in the northern Mississippi delta, capturing their lives as they worked, played, attended church and provided for their children. Here is the photoessay they ran.
In art environment news, SPACES Archives is moving to Kohler:
We are thus truly excited to announce that SPACES has decided to partner with Kohler Foundation, Inc., and will transfer SPACES’ archives and the operation of the website to the only foundation in the country dedicated to the preservation of art environments. KFI is committing extensive resources to the present and future of SPACES mission and archives, and we will look forward, through this anticipated partnership, to maintaining the resources to continue to support SPACES’ mission for generations to come.
To Kill A Mockingbird comes out as graphic novel in November 2018.
Starters, Alternaors (sp), And (Monumentally Switching Gears:) Avon In Stock
We found this in Monticello, Arkansas
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