I Melt for Tupelo - Cambridge

For those who are not diehard fans of my fave country boy-band Rascal Flatts (before they sold out with their whiny crossover hit “What Hurts the Most”), this review is written as a giant reference to the lyrics of their many hit songs. The links are to the songs in case you want to know just what the heck I’m actually alluding to. And if you think I’ve gone off the deep end with this review, fear not, I’ll be back to my snarky self in the next one.

I set out on a narrow way, many years ago. Hoping I would find true southern cooking along the broken road through Cambridge. I got lost a time or two, wiped my brow, kept pushing through. I couldn’t see how every sign pointed straight to Tupelo.

                                                              

Every long lost dream lead me to the Fried Grits. Others who broke my heart, they were like Northern stars pointing me on my way into the loving creamy buttery filling under a lightly fried shell. This much I know is true: that god blessed the broken road that led me straight to Tupelo.

Southern Fried Chicken is hard to make well, and I’m guessing all that pressure often makes chefs feel like a candle in a hurricane when they’re trying to get it right. The chefs at Tupelo were neither alone nor helpless, never lost their fight, and the fried chicken turned out way better than alright. Cuz when push comes to shove, the chicken was made of crispy brown batter, with not a single soggy spot, and a nice kick of spice. The side of collared greens had enough vinegar to make me bend and break cuz it’s all I can take and with my tastebuds on their knees, vinegar made me a bit mad by getting so overpoweringly strong, but I wiped my mouth and shook it off, and that’s how I stand. But when it comes to the chicken, well…I could definitely stand for a lot more of that.

The side of Jalapeno Mac & Cheese didn’t taste a day over fast cars and freedom. A childlike classic with a kick creates a first time feelin’. That jalapeno was hot, but we gave it a chance. And if anyone deserves a chance, it’s the mac & cheese. And don’t forget to just sit there and let a side of spicy-sweet pickles take you back.

I melt every time I look at the Beer Battered Crepes that way.  This savory classic never fails, anytime, any place. The hot melted gruyere with a steamy assortment of impossibly flavorful wild mushrooms was burning me but it one of the coolest things I’ve ever tasted. I melt…

The Mud Pie with 3 Musketeers ice cream and the Pecan Pie with Tupelo honey ice cream are the best desserts I’ve had all year, maybe EVER. Though these desserts are borrowed from Petsie Pies and Toscanini’s, it’s never a bad idea to borrow what someone else does better – just look at the Hippocratic Oath! Besides, the chef of Petsie Pies is also a chef at Tupelo so it’s not really even borrowing when it comes to the pies. These pies were pieces of perfection – no twists or surprises but the best mud pie and pecan pie I’ve ever had. They were ordinary, plain and simple, typical and deserving of my everyday love. Same ol’ but keeping it new. Amazingly delicious explosion of sweetness, so familiar, nothing about it too peculiar. But I can’t get enough of my everyday love for pie.

I’m gonna stand on a rooftop, climb up a mountaintop, scream and shout. I wanna sing it on the radio, show it on my food blog, leave no doubt. I want the foodie world to know just what southern cooking is all about. I just wanna love Tupelo out loud.