Pilgramage to Savannah

Old things.  Beautiful things.  Delicious things.

These are a few of my favorite things.

Savannah, Georgia has all of these things.

It also has my oober artsy cool pal, Rachel M. Gren.     She’s real cute and hangs chairs on walls, mothers this kitten with  attitude issues and gives me free fresh ground coffee from the fab little shop she works at.  You met her during last year’s Savannah venture.

Geeze, we’re  fortunate to know such neat folks.

In addition to gorgeous walking streets, a magnificently preserved sense of historical decadence and flocks of visually entertaining SCAD hipsters… Savy has a an intense food scene.

Like really.         Go.       Eat.       Be merry.

That’s what we did.

90% of the visit revolved around tour de food.       Utter and complete fat-fest.      Shameful.  Want a pictorial taste?

Saddle up cowboy/girl.

You’re getting one.

Upon arriving in town, my roommate/keep-me-awake-at-the-wheel companion & I stepped out of the car… hugged our hostess… everyone back into the car… and to Sakura we flew…                                                             Drove cautiously.                   Whatever.

People apparently go there strictly to revel in the restaurant’s poor customer service.

Either we visited on a bad night or they hired new staff, because our set of two waitresses we’re not exceptionally suckish.

My bourbon chicken wasn’t bad either.         AND it comes at ya in a piping hot cow.    What more could one possibly ask for?

Oh yeah.   Digital picture frames  featuring rotating photos of poorly posed oriental condiments…

Nifty.

Following a night of battling a monstrous toe-munching beast and convincing myself I don’t want one… at all,

Who would call us out for breakfast but Mr. J. Christopher?

Though not an exclusively Savannah eatery, J. Christopher’s isn’t exactly a horrible way to kick off a day in the city.

The Eggs Christopher (Two poached eggs nestled on a bed of smoked turkey, crispy bacon and sliced tomato atop an English muffin with Hollandaise sauce) is a baller’s benedict.

Not to mention, drenching egg-battered, toasty-griddled banana nut bread with maple syrup is usually a capital idea.

More like always.

Real talk, highlight of the trip: Leopold’s Ice Cream.

Two words for you: rum bisque

Now, take those two words, and multiply them by two…

That may not be possible.          Words and multiplication?    Yeah?

Point is, we went twice.                      Two visits. Two cones. Within two days.

YES. That good.

Leopold’s has been scooping it right since 1919 and currently ranks amongst the best cold and creamy dairy delights to ever enter my pie-hole.

Critical lessons picked up fresh from the Savannah Candy Kitchen:

If by chance you conscience demands you exhibit self-control…           you should do that.

Otherwise, the candy gods will curse you with $5 worth of stale, nappy chocolate.

Could have been another Leopold’s cone, dagumit.

Naturally, we needed dessert after ice cream and candy.

 That’s a completely normal meal progression.    You weren’t aware?                    It so is.

Luckily, Mabel Francis Potter’s Cupcake Emporium had us covered.

I’m typically cautious of commercial bakeries, but I have to throw Mabel a mental high-five.

Even by closing time, my snickerdoodle cupcake remained moist, fluffy and delightful.    No dry, no crumbly, no choking…  just quality cake melting away in my mouth.

Better yet, the frosting didn’t taste like a sugar headache.

Always a plus.

 

Our chow team needed a brief religious interlude. Mass at The Cathedral of St. John the Baptist was glorious.

Brunch afterward…     not quite.

Drawn into Firefly Cafe by its charming street-level windows, we sat mildly disappointed with the breakfast spread and creepy feline-themed artwork.

Were our various selections of eggs good?              Well, yes.

Phenomenal?              Nah.

There was brie, there was asparagus, there was spinach, there was ham… not so sure if there was love on that plate.

We went a lot of places.           Ate a lot of things.       Did some major antiquing.

i.e.  my kind of Labor Day weekend.

The spirit of archaic southern elegance that exudes from this city gets me every time.

For a further look at junk to do/see/eat when you follow my shining example down to SAV, give Big Girls Small Kitchen a gander.   Those chicks won’t lead you astray.

Here’s to fine friends, fine food and fine frames…

I look cute in glasses, right?

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