|
: : home : : reviews : : days gone by : : litmag : : who? : : contact |
|
18 october, 2000 |
good for your soul, bad for your heart It has been a delicious week in the Land of Kim. Alright, so you know that I moved back to Winston-Salem for a number of reasons, one of which was that, for a small city, we got some EATS. One of which I've visited twice since returning. I would go back more often if I weren't afraid of getting scurvy or some other weird vitamin deficiency. Healthy people are not regulars at this local favorite restaurant. If you're ever travelling down Business Interstate 40, take the Broad Street exit and look straight ahead of you when you're on the ramp. There, you will see an unassuming little place called the Forsyth Seafood Cafe. If you're not looking, you nearly miss this inconspicuous palace of yummy. Don't. You will be sorry. Take a multivitamin. You will need it. Forsyth opened a few years ago in a building that just couldn't seem to maintain a business for more than a year or two. That is, until these folks from the eastern part of the state (a little town called Beaufort) shined it up real pretty and started serving their goods. I don't think they have a motto, but if they're looking for one, I got it: all fried, all the time. And darn good, too. When you walk in, it looks no different from any diner. Except maybe it's cleaner. The decor is a very appealing white and blue, no frills, order-at-the-counter place, with good soul music playing every time I've gone in there. Al Green, Marvin Gaye --- it's not a bad way to spend lunch. I usually get what I call my 504 special: a fried oyster sandwich with cole slaw, and an order of hush puppies. Five dollars and four cents, and what a deal it it is. The sandwich is served on a regular hamburger bun. Open it up, and you will see three or four globules of fried oyster, with a big heap of cole slaw on top. Take bite. Moan. There's nothing like it. I don't know if it's the oysters (which I've never really liked, truth be told) or something in their secret batter that makes me crazy. Once you're over yourself, unwrap the enormous serving of hushpuppies. You will reveal at least fifteen finger-sized pups that, at first sight, are unspectacular. One bite, however, and you will realize that this ain't Long John Silvers. Again, I have no idea what they've done to these things. Oh, theyr'e probably fried in beef fat after having marinated in butter for three days, but do we care in the Lioness Den? (In unison, please: NO!) They are a crunchy, corn-mealy, oniony, garlicky, and mega-buttery puppie that lives up to it's name. When you're eating them, you hush up. I've had other stuff from there, and it's all good. Everything is homemade, including the cole slaw, and there are plenty of condiments available. I recommend the locally-made delicacy, Texas Pete. If you haven't had this stuff, it's like Tabasco Sauce, only a tad sweeter. Mucho delicious. A word to the wise, though --- don't start Forsyth Seafood Cafe with lunch. Eat dinner there when you're sure you can catch a nap later. You might need it. Okay, so last weekend you remember I went to the Autumn Leaves Festival. And instead of partaking of the usual fair/festival trailer drek, I made a beeline to a hand-built wooden booth with a homemade sign hanging on the front. COLLARD GREEN SANDWICHES --- $3.00. Yeeeeeeeah, baby. Grab your wallet. Kimmy's grabbing some soul food. I've never had one of these things, and I'd never even heard of them until a few weeks ago when a local radio reporter made an offhand comment about them. Upon handing the nice lady my three bucks, she gave me a foil-wrapped sandwich that consists of moist cornbread, a heap of collard greens, a pile of onions, and dribbled vinegar. This is why people move down here, for undescribable tastes like this. Don't get the wrong idea and start thinking this is a healthy dish. Those collard greens were slow-cooked in fatback (cause it's a sin not to use the whole pig down here), and I know that cornbread had some extra loving in it. But again, do I care? No. I slap an extra ten minutes on my workout at the Y and finish my day guilt-free. The tragedy is, the collard green people don't have a restaurant. They do, however, have honorable intentions, and that is to raise money for a local community center. So instead of bake sales and can collections, they put your money where your mouth is. And you love them for it. You go back and purchase another sandwich. Wait. Did I say that? Wilma made me do it. I have since made amends by drinking lots of juice this week and cooking good spinach and tofu dishes here at home. There is no doubt that I will return to Forsyth Seafood Cafe next month, and will hopefully stroll my way to another collard green sandwich someday. But the way I look at it, life is just too darn short not to eat for fun sometimes. Your soul will thank you...just as soon as it awakens from its nap.
Forsyth Seafood Cafe |