
Someday, I will be in Nashville long enough to eat and drink everything I want to eat and drink there. This had not been that day. The bakery the locals love, its name solemnly and secretively whispered to me by a friend, had been closed. The little meat-and-three on the edge of town was just out of my schedule's reach. I tried my best, though, to let my stomach be my guide during my recent surgical strike to Music City. I let myself be a tourist and was rewarded with a stellar breakfast at Biscuit Love. I had a startlingly delicious spicy kebab for lunch. And I ate my heart out at Hattie B's, before a transcendent evening of beautiful music and local beer at the Ryman.