Common Sensibilities Redux - Welcome to Gnaw Bone
We took a bus trip to Nashville, Indiana, on Saturday, in Brown County, whose marketing slogan should be, if it's not: Come see a hill. Because we northern Hoosiers are so pathetic, we almost go hysterical when we see any slight change in the flat topography. Angela reminded me--they were sitting about three rows in back of us on the bus, so I had to call her cell to talk to her, if that's not a silly but useful use of technology, I don't know what is--anyway, she reminded me of our excitement on our fondly remembered family trips to Tennessee, when the flat landscape first began changing to rolling hills and finally because the Smoky Mountains. Good thing we didn't have digital cameras then--we'd have filled up our memory cards before we ever got to the national park.
We love bus trips, because none of us have to drive and we always go fun places. I think our whole family is Red Hat Ladies in disguise.
Nashville's not big, but they can sure pack a ton of people in the few blocks of shops and restaurants. It's fun to watch the gentleman who blows glass figures, ornaments and art at work...the man who throws pottery as you watch...an artist or two by the sidewalk with easel and brush...the leatherworkers...and a man who was playing a very curious instrument we still don't know what it was, some kind of combo electric guitar/harp/zither. Maybe--the music was mesmerizing.
We ate at the Hob Nob Restaurant; my black bean soup was very good, flavorful if not as thick as most versions. Matt's Beef Manhattan was covered in melted cheese, and interesting twist; Angela's potato soup was creamy; but Greg just came clean that his cheeseburger was dry and uninspiring. Oh well!
Treats for the day included an absolutely to die for caramel apple--a crisp, tart apple, fresh melted caramel and best of all, drizzled with chocolate! Also, pumpkin fudge!
Too soon it was back on the bus for Ft. Wayne, and our journey headed north, right though, you guess it, GNAW BONE.
It's unincorporated, I discovered; but with a strong identity nonetheless. It's a wide spot between some of the hills mentioned earlier; flea markets (capitol of the world, I guess!), campgrounds, small businesses, a few houses, and, my research has uncovered, THE place to stop and indulge in a world-famous Indiana pork tenderloin, at the Gnaw Bone Food and Fuel. How I wished we were NOT on a bus now, and could have had that for dinner, instead of the Bob Evans we settled for. Also, there's nothing about the town that has anything to do with chewing a bone...it's an English mispronunciation of a French town (Narbonne).
We got some early Christmas shopping done and returned home not too exhausted, and looking forward to our Chicago bus trip, this one on my birthday.