UPDATE—NOVEMBER 2010
QUICK TRIP TO THE MISSISSIPPI ΔΕLΤΑ
Two of us returned to the Tamale Trail primarily to check on things we missed the first time but also to sample barbecue and other victuals of the Arkansas–Mississippi delta country.
I.The Trip
Tuesday
Morning: left Fort Smith.
Had lunch at McAlister’s in North Little Rock – Reuben & potato salad. Potato salad pretty good. This kind of detail is important, isn’t it?
Got off I-40 at Hazen exit, east on Hwy 70. The stretch of this highway from Hazen to State Road 17 is incredible, like driving backroads in a third-world country.
Met up with Robert late afternoon in W. Helena. [The official designation “Helena/West Helena” will henceforth be referred to simply as “Helena” unless clarification is needed.]
Nowhere to eat supper in Helena; on a lark we went to the Isle of Capri casino just across the river. Every casino has a buffet. Actually not too bad: for $12 I had crab legs (skinny but okay), fried catfish (good) with hushpuppies, turnip greens (someone in the kitchen knows how to cook Southern), sweet Italian sausage, assorted other tidbits and iced tea. Robert had most of the same things, as well as barbecue ribs and a T-bone steak.
Ate too much.
Wednesday
Rejecting breakfast at the golden arches near the hotel, we found a place with the unlikely name of “August Moon.” It was an unlikely mix of Chinese and small-town local. Passing up chow mein, I ate scrambled eggs which actually tasted like fresh eggs, one of Robert’s pancakes (good) and sausage (good).
We drove to DeVal’s Bluff to try the barbecue at Craig’s.
Craig’s in DeVal’s Bluff was highly recommended.
Got chopped pork sandwich and beans. The BBQ sauce on the sandwich was very vinegary – which was okay, and spicy – which was not okay since it was hard if not impossible to actually taste the meat. The sandwich was served with slaw on it, which helped cool off the spiciness. I’m pretty sure the beans were from a can with a little of the establishment’s sauce mixed in.
Barbecue: Disappointing
Beans: Inexcusable
Eastward to Marianna, to try Jones Bar-B-Q Diner.
Jones' in Marianna was highly recommended. Their pork sandwich (“the onliest kind we makes”) was purist, minimalist: served on white bread with a touch of slightly vinegary sauce – as light on BBQ sauce as Craig’s was heavy. No coleslaw, no beans, no distractions.
The meat was flavorful and savory.
Barbecue: Good to real good
Wishing to avoid the casino, we drove to Clarksdale for supper. I would have chosen Madidi but Robert felt the prices were excessive, which is undoubtedly true. We went instead to the Ground Zero Blues Club, another Morgan Freeman property. My dentist’s wife grew up in Clarksdale and said the food at GZBC is not bad. As it turned out, it was pretty good and probably did not damage my teeth. The barbecue ribs were only mediocre, the good sauce (on the side, where it should be) notwithstanding. But the onion rings, turnip greens and cornbread were quite good. Someone in the kitchen knows how to cook Southern.
Afterwards, chatted with some Midwestern “missionaries” with Habitat for Humanity who were on a project nearby.
Thursday
Impelled by caffeine craving, I went to McD’s before Robert got up – the usual sausage burrito, milk, and of course coffee. After Robert awakened and arose, we went to the Day-Lite Donut Cafe for him, and I had coffee and a kruller. This kind of detail is important, isn't it?
Then we set off across the river and down MS Hwy 1, “the Great River Road.”
First to Rosedale, where two years ago our spirits were dashed when we found the White Front Cafe badly burned. We had talked to Barbara, the owner and manager, then and she vowed she would restore and reopen. She did!
The White Front Cafe has reopened!
Barbara, the proprietress, greeted us and served us tamales from a big pot steaming on the stove.Ate three, then another 1½ (half a bunch). Now I know why this is a required stop on the Tamale Trail.
There were three middle-aged faux-hippy guys in the cafe, motorcycles parked out front. We chatted, they were friendly, said they were on the Tamale Trail. One said “Here’s why we’re here” – producing an HTC Droid Incredible smartphone and pulling up a review on the web of the White Front.
There were three middle-aged faux-hippy guys in the cafe, motorcycles parked out front. We chatted, they were friendly, said they were on the Tamale Trail. One said “Here’s why we’re here” – producing an HTC Droid Incredible smartphone and pulling up a review on the web of the White Front.
Tamales: Excellent
So after Barbara’s nonpareil tamales we continued south on the Great River Road. Down to Greenville, across the new bridge, around the south shore of the lake to Lake Village.
Found Rhoda’s without too much trouble.
As we arrived the three bikers were leaving, all smiles.
It became evident why.
Having had a gracious plenty of tamales at White Front, we ordered hamburgers, which I had heard were good. Wrong: more than good - these were Platonic. Evoked memories of times long gone by, before fast food atrocities, when hamburgers really were good.
But this was not all. Since the burgers were incredibly good, we had to try the tamales, which are supposedly Rhoda’s speciality. Had three – excellent. But wait . . . Fried pies are also a house delicacy, so I had to have one. They are as large as a typical omelette and crisp around the edge.
Delicious ++. Pigged out.
Hamburger: Excellent Tamales: Excellent Fried pies: Excellent
After Rhoda’s we knew the trip would hold no more delight. In the evening we perfunctorily returned to the casino, ate silently without appetite, and in the morning departed on our separate ways.
II.Wrap-Up
The first thing that must be said is that, of the four places that we came expressly to visit, none disappointed in one important respect – they were all dumps. Real dumps; you would not want to have your wedding reception there. Dumpiness, as everyone knows, is a requirement for a barbecue or tamale place with creds, and the dumpier the better. In fact, we skipped one place that was widely recommended because it looked too clean and respectable.
DUMPINESS RATED
· Dumpiest & most primitive: Jones’ in Marianna. After entering, you order
from a window which is between an empty “vestibule” and the kitchen,
you wait there for your order, then you leave.
· Runner-up: Craig’s in DeVals Bluff. Relaxed primitive, with two or three
tables for dining in.
tables for dining in.
· Tie: White Front Cafe in Rosedale & Rhoda’s in Lake Village. These are
both dumps but with reservations. WFC is fairly primitive but clean and
sunny, Barbara is sweet, and the aromas are wonderful and friendly. Rhoda
seems to run a tight ship, and the place, although dumpy, is busy and efficient.
both dumps but with reservations. WFC is fairly primitive but clean and
sunny, Barbara is sweet, and the aromas are wonderful and friendly. Rhoda
seems to run a tight ship, and the place, although dumpy, is busy and efficient.
Quality of the food is of course as important as dumpiness.
QUALITY OF FOOD RATED
· As for barbecue, Jones’ was much better than Craig’s. And although it is not
one of the targeted four,Ground Zero Blues Club’s BBQ would have to be
rated lowest, although one is comparing ribs to pork sandwiches.
one of the targeted four,Ground Zero Blues Club’s BBQ would have to be
rated lowest, although one is comparing ribs to pork sandwiches.
· As for tamales, in this writer’s experience the White Front is not likely to be
equaled in the foreseeable future. But . . . Rhoda’s are but slightly behind.
(I am speaking here of “delta tamales.” Tamales of the Southwest, with a
distinct Hispanic influence, are different enough as to constitute a separate category.)
equaled in the foreseeable future. But . . . Rhoda’s are but slightly behind.
(I am speaking here of “delta tamales.” Tamales of the Southwest, with a
distinct Hispanic influence, are different enough as to constitute a separate category.)
· Rhoda’s hamburgers will make you wish never to order another so-called
“hamburger” anywhere else. You are ruined for life. Ditto fried pies.
“hamburger” anywhere else. You are ruined for life. Ditto fried pies.
☺ For range of selection and consistently outstanding quality, Rhoda’s
is in a class by itself. If you are anywhere within a couple hours’ drive
and do not go there, you are to be pitied.
is in a class by itself. If you are anywhere within a couple hours’ drive
and do not go there, you are to be pitied.
RHODA, QUEEN OF THE DELTA
III.Along the Way
Along I-40, after the cotton and soybeans have been harvested, the stubble is burned off the fields.
When the wind is just right (wrong), dense clouds of smoke may drift without warning across the highway and reduce vision to near zero.
This happened to me once and my heart was in my throat for a few seconds until I emerged, still in my lane. Some are not so lucky; there are pile-ups from time to time, and fatalities.
Today was all right.
∆ ∆ ∆ ∆
Marvell is on Hwy 49 maybe 25 miles west of Helena. Vestiges of a few gracious planters’ houses dot the mostly run-down town, so common in the delta. The high school building is an interesting architectural anomaly for the delta.
But for music fans, Marvell has a more important distinction. It’s the birthplace of the great Levon Helm, vocalist/drummer of The Band. The Band backed Bob Dylan in the 60’s and continued for years after on its own. Martin Scorsese made the superb documentary The Last Waltz about The Band’s final concert in the mid-70’s.
∆ ∆ ∆ ∆
Also on Hwy 49 is this haunting abandoned hulk of a former plantation house, beautiful in its isolation and solitude.
∆ ∆ ∆ ∆
Finally, a sighting! No, not the ivory-billed woodpecker, but almost as elusive.
This writer and others have long searched for Pasquale’s Tamales in Helena. It was known that they were sold only from a food truck. But where and when? It seemed to appear and disappear like a mysterious will-o’-the-wisp. After many near misses and false leads, I had dismissed it from my thoughts.
Then, one day, there it was on an empty lot two blocks from our hotel!
It was there for about two days and then it was gone. But, so far as I as I could discern, no one was ever there to sell tamales. The mystery endures.
