THE SPOT THAT CAME RECOMMENDED
Our first stop came recommended.
The night before we depart on our retreat, we like to give a little 411 on the beats, suites, and treats we encountered during our stay in each city, island, or igloo.
We will not give the name of a place if it wasn’t to our liking. We are not here as reviewers or influencers. We are here to keep it real, keep it raw, and keep it rooted.
However, if the place is off the chain, “snap snap chef’s kiss” guess what? You will know exactly who they are, and where to go.
With that said, let’s get started with the acclaimed “evil chuckle” place in Pittsburgh that was recommended by a couple of people.
I’ll use context clues again: we are not here to review. We are not here to take some place out. But I am definitely going to highlight the gems.
I never got to meet the people who recommended this place, but I ask myself (as pushing my plate away from olafactory sense and pondered who are these recommenders?
People with taste? People with nostalgia? People who think anything served hot deserves applause? Unclear. Still, we went, because a journey needs witnesses, not assumptions.
The soul food spot was there. It did what it did. No crime was committed. No ancestors appeared in the doorway humming spirituals. No fork dropped dramatically from anyone’s hand.
He took a bite and stayed thoughtful.
I took a bite and stayed quiet.
That was worse.
“Well?” he asked.
I looked at the plate.
“It exists.”
“That is not a review.”
“That is me being generous before dark.”
He almost smiled, but decided against encouraging me.
There are places people love because they remember something there. There are places people recommend because the name has been around long enough to sound reliable. And then there are places you visit once, nod politely, pay the bill, and let the road continue its ministry.
This was not a takedown.
It was not a celebration either.
It was a stop.
Every city has them.
But we are not here to clap on command.
Filed from somewhere between the root and the road,
Kimberly Ann Hawes
Creator of The MaplingsIf it hits, they say it hits. If it doesn’t, they let the silence do the damage.