Tuesday, May 17, 2011

Golf Tees and Fried Pickles

I mentioned in yesterday's homage to Fletch that one of my dear friends and I spent a girls' weekend in West Virginia last weekend. We had So Much Fun. We went to the Greenbrier, which in White Sulfur Springs--just past the Virginia line. If you've never been, it's a real experience.  Truth be told, it's more than a little bit too much Dorothy Draper for me, but the spa is amazing, the grounds are beautiful, the service is impeccable. 

While I was out running on Saturday morning, I came across this cool sculpture by the golf course that is (I think) new since our last trip a couple of years ago.  I took a picture of it because I was really struck by how UN-Greenbrier it is.  It's funky and asymmetrical (though the mismash of patterns is right on--if you've been there, you know what I mean!).  It turns out it's serious art, created by Dan Meyer, who is a well-known scultor.  Shows what I know!

Said friend and I are a perfect match in that we love going to little towns and checking out the local color there. (Lest you be confused, the Greenbrier is NOT West Virginia "local color").  Key to this mission is eating in local restaurants, particularly casual, family places.  We went to the Mason Jar Restaurant in downtown White Sulphur Springs (such as it is) and Oh-My-God, the fried pickles were sensational.  The best I've ever had (and I used to live in Memphis, so I've had a lot).  Dill pickle spears (not chips) with more than a hint of spice in the batter.  They were served with creamy ranch dressing and a bottle of hot sauce.  What a fantastic combination!  No joke, we talked about them all weekend.  Ironically, they didn't begin to compare to the fried pickles at the fancy Greenbrier.

Seriously, I want to go back to West Virginia just for the deep fried pickles.

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