Memphis and Lake Wobegone - Civil Rights, Duck and Waffles

Sundays in Memphis are comparatively sleepy. Or maybe it was just DST. But while others when climbing out of bed, I got gussied up for brunch at Paulette's. Brunch??? Man, I haven't had brunch in years.

Words fail me when trying to describe the warm popovers with strawberry butter, the perfectly seasoned green beans, or peasant potatoes with parsley and thyme. Let me try the entree. Salmon Cakes with Dill Sauce. If you cook, you know that deep-frying "loose" food is tricky. If the oil's too cold, your meal turns into a grease bomb. If it's too hot, your food immediately scorches and can't be rescued. These salmon cakes were perfect. Black-brown like falaffel out on the outside. Salomony and fluffy on the inside. Not a touch of oil inside, except that of the salmon. Finish that with a 2003 Pinot Gris, and ohhhhh, Nelly!

While we're on the subject, lemme talk about dinner. This was totally off the cuff, at the Highway 61 Cafe downtown. I had ... get this, this'll kill you ... duck and waffles. Now, chicken and waffles is quintessential Southern Food. This dish was two leg-and-wing duck pieces on top of wild rice flour waffles, smothered in a blueberry reduction and (ay carumba!) sweet potato chips. And they all blended so wonderfully! You need a non-traditional wine for that - I did a zinfindel/pinot noir blend from Oregon that tasted like small just-ripe strawberries.

Let's recap, shall we?

• Paulette's: delicate, attentive to detail, perfectionist
• Highway 61 Cafe: creative, bold, outgoing

It's all in the balance, amigos!

I wanted to spend a couple of hours at the Civil Rights Museum, but ended up there the whole afternoon. You might think that housing a museum at a place where someone was shot (Dr. King at the Lorraine Hotel) is out-of-kilter. But it's emblematic of the entire movement. You always take something evil or undesriable, and turn it into something good and decent. Seeing the personal artifacts of the era: the Jim Crow signs, the protest plans scribbled on paper, etc. made it deeply personal and moving. They also had an exhibit on the Rosenthal schools of the early 1900's. Southern schools were segregated, of course, but Rosenthal of Sears and Roebuck started grants to make African-American schools "equal, although separate." His money was matched with an equal amount of grassroots African-American money from the North. The exhibit captured memories of these schools, which were very close-knit and loved.

It was important for me. I remember vividly a day in 1988, sitting in the Lincoln Bennett Martin Library reading a huge book of Dr. King's collected writings and speeches. They were so lucid and direct and fascinating. And I thought, "yeah, I could do this too." Great people, I mean really great ones, make you reach further. And that led to me doing the Vista stint and the rest of that. Seeing the museum reminded me of how much I owe to those brave folks.

That evening, I again got gussied up for a Garrison Keillor show at the Canon Center. I just found out about it yesterday, but I had to see him. It was more-or-less like a Prairie Home Companion show, but with only 3 musicians. He is a national treasure, of course, but he's an absolutely indestructible ball-of-contained-energy on stage. He had us all singing I Can't Help Falling in Love, Down in the Valley, and America the Beautiul during intermission - what other performer could do this? There were hundreds of quotable lines, but I'll settle on one:

"March is the month when teetotallers get to experience a hangover."

Priceless! Finally, speaking of communal singing, I finished the evening back on Beale St, down at the Superior Lounge for Kareoke night. And yes, I was going to sing. But on Beale, Kareoke is cutthroat. There are people who rival pro singers, though less polished. I have never been to a Kareoke bar ever but I found something very appealing. It is this. Even if you can't technically sing, you can transmit emotion anyway. That's why we keep going to kiddie concerts. They often feel the music much deeper than someone who trains constantly, and this comes out in the right supportive setting. I was entertained and moved.

So it's bye bye, Memphis. Next, I head down to Tupelo and Oxford to bike, hang out on the porch and drink mint juleps. Internet access may be hard to find down there, so don't worry if you don't see postings the next few days. Wednesday I'll be back in Memphis. Toodles!