Rex, my psuedo-significant other, has dragged me to Barbecutie a couple of times. He thinks the food there is good, including the dry, tasteless impersonation of brisket he ordered a couple of times. (I worry that he has such low standards; he is dating me, after all.)
When I found Tom's Elite, I brought the brisket plate home for dinner and told him, "THIS is what brisket is supposed to taste like." Moist, meaty, tender, flavorful, smoky heaven.
Tom's has become one of my favorite places to stop on my way home to get an excellent dinner that I don't have to shop for, cook or clean up. I just have to eat it. Which is exactly the way I like it. Plus, the portions are generous, so I always have enough brisket left over for a sandwich the next day.
Tom's Elite is located on Gallatin Rd in East Nashville, across from Nicholson's Cleaners and my SunTrust bank. I don't think I would have tried them if they hadn't gotten a glowing review in the paper. But thank goodness, they did. I love the ribs, but the brisket has captured my heart. The turnip greens are excellent too.
So that is what we had for dinner tonight. Beef brisket from Tom's. I had mac-n-cheese and green beans. Rex had the baked apples and greens.
We were going to watch Schindler's List, because Rex has never seen it (and that will not do -- i believe it's possibly the greatest film ever made), but I discovered that my VHS copy has developed that annoying buzz. So I'll have to get the movie on DVD.
Instead we watched my NetFlix "Dracula" with Frank Langella. I developed a definite crush on Langella in this one, back in 1979 when I first saw it. Not having seen it in years, I was a bit dismayed to find myself distracted by his hair, which looks disturbingly late seventies, maybe even a tad Liberace. But I'd still let him in my bedroom window, even if he was hanging upside down like a bat.
Doolittle, however, spent some quality time with Rex's shoes. One of these days, I'll grab the camera in time to get a shot of him rolling orgasmically on his back, which a shoe clutched tightly in his paws, or trying to force his entire head into one shoe. My cat just LOVES those shoes. Maybe it's a leather fetish, I don't know.
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