Best ribs this side of the Mississippi
“After a hard day of basic training, you could eat a rattlesnake.”
Arkansas. Tennessee. Mississippi. Alabama.
Today was a good day driving. Outside of that one wrong turn when leaving Memphis. Should have followed the sign to Birmingham. What's an extra 45 minutes in the big scheme of things?
Still, we tacked on nearly 450 miles as we watched the odometer roll past a thousand. Starting the day west of Little Rock, we had one big goal for the day. Cross the Mississippi River in order to get some barbecue in Memphis.
We easily crossed the Mississippi River. I’ve got the photo to prove it. This one’s a stunner. It’ll be going on my wall in the gallery when I get home.
Finding good barbecue in Memphis is about as difficult as finding gray skies in Missouri. But narrowing it down to the place proved to be quite an effort. I referenced all the usual sources, including theculturetrip, thrillist and Southern Living.
And the winner was …
The one and only Central BBQ. Voted best ribs in Memphis. Four locations. We chose the downtown location on Butler Ave. Which proved to be a bit tricky with an RV. But we made it
And it was worth it. One full rack, half dry and half wet. We still can’t decide which half we liked better. With 4 sides. All recommendations from the guy behind the counter. House made chips. Mac and cheese. Cole slaw. Potato salad. And four rolls. We tasted - but barely ate - any of the sides. Honestly. The ribs? We polished them off. That girl has a heck of an appetite.
With our bellies full, we hit the road. After our wrong turn, we realized that we’d better get some fuel if we wanted to make it to Birmingham. This was our first opportunity to take on diesel at a real truck stop. I had no clue there was such a thing as a “dual pump”. The trucker with the car carrier got quite a laugh at my expense. I think I’ve got it all worked out.
Lisa, on the other hand, ought to be more careful
Back on the road, we soon found ourselves in Mississippi. We’re really learning a lot about the geography of this part of the country. As we were approaching Tupelo, we knew it sounded awfully familiar, but we couldn’t put our fingers on it. When we discovered that it was the birthplace of Elvis, how could we not make a quick pit stop?
And it was in this home, that The King was born.
Check out those chins growing after those ribs. Oh wait, I had them in the picture before the ribs too. I really need to get home and hit the gym!
And after the princess met the boy king …
… we were back on the road.
After our obligatory sunset drive by another nuclear power plant …
… we splurged for our last night on the road with the hopes of a good nights rest.
