Jou, 216 (Blog Entry 2 - A Little Flamboyant Heart and Soul)

I'm not a big fan of Valentine's Day. I view it as a very fake and forced holiday, even when I have a significant other to share the time with.

Luckily, a good friend of mine had invited me to see the play "The Most Fabulous Story Ever Told" at the Duke Energy Theatre.  A mutual friend of ours is the stage manager for the show and asked us both to attend.

We decided to try a soul food restaurant near the theatre before the show, Mert's Heart and Soul Food. It was one of the best impromptu food choices ever made in the history of mankind.

The decor was eclectic and inspiring, the walls adorned with personal photographs of the owner and famous African-American figures of the South.

A chalkboard hangs above the open view kitchen featuring the original menu from the restaurant opening 13 years ago and random sculptures made from discarded items were stations around the cozy space, keeping a mix of old with the new in theme.

Our waitress was fabulous, a true southern lady calling us honey while she offered sweet tea as the first and foremost option for liquid refreshment.  No matter how long I've lived in the South, the odd obsession with tea sweet enough to make your cheeks pucker will forever amuse me.

 With the chill outside, I opted for some homemade chicken noodle soup and a piece of buttermilk fried chicken.  My friend, a born and bred Southerner, went for a more traditional collections of sides of macaroni and cheese, collard greens, and sweet yams.

Each order comes with a small loaf of cornbread, possibly the most delicious cornbread in the world.  I felt like my mouth was going to die from happiness, the moist and semi-sweet nugget of baked magic.  I'd honestly never been a fan of the stuff, but this restaurant introduced me to the perfect version that alone will bring me back with drool on my chin in anticipation. Yes, it was so good I am devoting an entire paragraph to its majesty.

To round off our meal celebrating old fashioned home cooking of the South, after asking the waitress for her personal suggestions, we ordered some banana pudding for dessert.

This was another one of the best life decisions we've made as a collective throughout our friendship.  Two in one night, we were obviously on a roll.

Enough whipped cream to last the entire dish.  Freshly made, I'd only ever experienced the kind that's been loitering in a pan at some cheap buffet before.

And, I don't know, I'm just a big fan of both bananas and pudding.  So, maybe I was a tad biased.  Which ever you wish to accredit my praises to, I definitely recommend this treat.

We were reluctant to leave, but we had to rush off to catch our show.  I plan on repeating my attendance, not only for the tantalising cornbread, but also to dive deep into some of the local food culture I've never had the chance to become acquainted with despite my years of residing below the Mason-Dixie line.