Thanks to the generosity of a family friend, we were able to take our first (almost) full-on family getaway a few weeks ago.  I've been dreaming of a beach since we got back from our honeymoon, but a coastal trip just wasn't practical. So instead, we headed to the Gatlinburg area to a cozy, baller Lincoln log mansion that this generous friend let us borrow.  Mr. FvF and I had tooled around Gatlinburg proper for our babymoon vacation.  We had a good time, but this time we were in the market for something more secluded. Nana and Papa FvF came along and helped with the little guy so we could do some relaxing.  We had all agreed to share the cooking, but go out to dinner one night while we were there.  I'd heard quite a bit about Applewood Farms, so I made an executive decision that our one dinner would be there.  It seemed family friendly, and had a simple, down home style menu that I knew would please everyone's palate.

We were greeted & seated very quickly, and they had no problem accommodating the little guy.  They start everyone off with a basket of fried apple fritters and apple butter, as well as their housemade Apple Julep.  If you're thinking of donuts on the fritters, you're a bit off base.  They're more like a sweet hush puppy, and they're great.  The apple butter, which my southern mother approved of, was delicious.  The Apple Julep was sans booze - a mix of a few different juices, and not memorable.

The entrees, on the other hand - were very memorable.  Pictured below, from top to bottom are the Mister's Fried Catfish, Nana's Chicken Sampler (fried chicken, pot pie, and chicken & dumplings), and my Chicken Florentine.  I sampled everyone's food, and it was all rich without feeling shamefully heavy or greasy.  Pa FvF had the meatloaf, but he was into it faster than I could snap a photo. It was very tender and tasty with a nice baste, even though I don't care for meatloaf that's not my own.   The fish was wonderfully batter-fried and and super tender and flaky.  According to Mr. FvF, some of the best fried fish he's ever had.
My Chicken Florentine was a massive, pounded-thin chicken breast, stuffed with fresh spinach, Swiss cheese and sugar cured ham, topped with an alfredo cream sauce.  As rich as the dish was, it still tasted amazingly fresh.  Kudos to using grilled chicken and not breaded or fried - it would just be too much in this dish.
 We were all quite hungry from a day on the road, but the portions were so huge that we were all lucky to even make a dent in our plates.  Everyone left with half of their meal (plus extra fritters) to eat for lunch the next day.

 The pork was okay - just okay.  they sprinkle some kind of "proprietary seasoning" over top of it that perhaps is supposed to make me think it's been dry-rubbed.  All it makes me think is, "I wonder if Longhorn is pissed that Rippy's stole their patented Prairie Dust?"  Our friend had also raved about the sauce, which I tried in spite of my better judgement.  We've been over this, eaters - good barbecue does not. Need. Sauce. I'm willing to try and give a sauce kudos to complimenting the meat when warranted, but this was not one of those times.  It had a decent spice to it, but was a vinegary disaster.  The Mister didn't care for his baked beans because they had big chunks of onions mixed in. That doesn't mean they were bad, just not for him.  Fries were decent, but likely of the frozen persuasion.
My onion rings were mighty tasty, but didn't make up for the sub-par pulled pork, or the diabetes-inducing sugar-laden cole slaw.  I'm a big fan of a sweet, dairy based slaw, but this bordered on unrecognizable. Plus it was hot inside and out, and I don't think the slaw had been well refrigerated.  Regardless of where it's from - if the slaw's not cold, I ain't the kind of gal to eat it.

Service is to Rippy's what a pleasant experience is to your local bargain theater.  They're not mutually exclusive.  The water glasses were mostly left empty and our server never asked if we wanted refills on our cocktails.  Our buddy had asked us to bring him back a bottle of their  barf amazing sauce, which we asked for twice and never got.

We had beautiful weather Friday afternoon, despite every weather forecast saying it would rain all day. We got out on the boat again and searched out the Old 33 bridge, and found a little place just past there on the water and decided to stop in for a bite. Bubba Brew's is just as easily accessed from the water as it is dry land, sitting just off-shore and operating almost completely outdoors.
Having gotten carried away with our boat ride, we were now eating a very late lunch and decided to get some appetizers to share. Our server Zack (who we found out later had not waited a table at BB's up until we strolled in) came over to take our drink order. I was more than overjoyed to find out that in this dry county, Bubba's somehow found a loophole to have a full bar at this place. We all ordered cocktails, as well as buffalo wings, mini corn dogs, loaded nachos, french fries, southwestern spring rolls and chicken fries.

Everything was pretty much as we expected - nice, strong drinks and good bar food. The two things that stood out were the fries - which had been lightly battered - and the nachos. Those nachos were epic. They came out in a giant chip tray with the dip bowl hollowed out in the middle and it was brimming with tortilla chips covered in chili, onions, cheese and tomatoes. Basically, coney fixins reincarnated for nachos. Why haven't I ever thought of that!? We could have just ordered that alone and split it between all six of us.

Zack was a kick-ass server, even bringing my mom some tonic when he spotted that she'd clumsily gotten BBQ sauce on her sweater. Knowing that managers usually only hear about bad service, we asked Zack to bring her out so we could tell her what a fantastic job he'd done. Let's just say a very attractive, blonde twenty-something wasn't what I was expecting when meeting the owner of one of the larger restaurants in the lake area. Nancy Bass and her husband (Bubba, naturally) moved up here a few years ago from Arkansas and started Bubba Brew's to cater to the Norris Lake crowd, which it seems had been largely neglected up until that point. She also told me that they'd built the majority of the outdoor portion of the restaurant just this winter. As with any Bible-belt joint serving liquor to the unwashed masses, the Basses probably have just as many foes as they have fans. But as we like to say in the North, screw'em.

If you're ever in the Norris Lake area, this is a definite must. And even though the outdoor area is comfy and roomy, don't forget to check out the awesome lighting on the indoor bar. Clever!

I know you've missed me, but I promise I'll make up for it. The fam and I spent a long weekend at Norris Lake over the last few days - sunning, boating, cocktailing and of course, eating. Lucky for you, I'll be detailing this gastro-riffic journey!

The first night we got into town, we had just enough time to get out on the boat before sunset. Afterwards, we ventured out for a grocery run and to grab a late dinner. Most of the joints in this little lake town close early, and the only place we could find open past 8:50pm was El Mariachi.
It looked like the typical hole-in-the-wall Mexican joint, so I wasn't expecting much - but we were all pleasantly surprised. We all ordered beers to accompany our salsa & chips brought to the table, and our food came out no more than 10 minutes after we'd ordered. The servings were plentiful and some of the best Mexican food any of us have had in a while. The most memorable dishes were dad's Picadillo (steak grilled with onions, peppers and tomatoes) and Mr. FvF's Pollo Loco (marinated grilled chicken in a spicy tomato sauce and oodles of cheese). Naturally, I sampled them both to make sure they weren't exaggerating the goodness because they were starving.

I'd love to tell you that I have pictures for you, but we hadn't eaten in 9+ hours, so there just wasn't time for such foolishness. The service was tops, and as far as Mexican food goes, it was pretty authentic and total taste bud annihilation.