Three Angels Diner - Memphis

Laozi once said “A journey of a thousand miles starts with a single step.” My journey of 3000 miles started with a single 12-hour drive from Raleigh to Memphis. Three guardian angels were following me and my 14 year-old Lexus on this journey so I found it only fitting to eat my Memphis meal at Three Angels Diner.

Who were those three guardian angels, you ask? Their names were A, A, and A. (That’s Triple A in case you didn’t get that. Just make sure you do get their discount to Graceland if you’re a member).

As for the angelic diner food, I ordered the Pozole without having any idea what pozole was. I saw that it came with avocado and that was all I needed to know. Turns out, pozole is a cross between the three angels of soup: chili, stew, and a slightly watery mole, which basically combine to form one biggish bowl of peri-road trip comfort, flavored with hard chunks of pork and hominy. I also added a side of Mashed Sweet Potato which was just a cooked sweet potato prepped by someone with serious anger issues. I’m not sure they added anything to it, but it tasted so fresh it didn’t need much.

After being bounced and tossed around by all the potholes of I-40, Three Angels’ pinball machine is just thing to make you forget your aches and pains. That and realizing that the third seat adjuster button, which you’ve never tried, was the button for lumbar support. Not that I would be that stupid…

Anyway, if you’re ever in Memphis, the decision to grab a bite at this sweet little modern-art-loaded diner-dive is anything but stupid. The Historic Arts District isn’t the nicest part of Memphis, but if you’re headed to the west like me, just consider this your preview of the less nice parts of LA.