Savannah Sights, Part Three

Part of The Pirate's House - such good buffet, with lots of cool Treasure Island goodness hanging around. And apparently, a haunted room upstairs!

Fort Pulaski, a Confederate fort that was rocked by the Union cannon - there are even two shells left in the wall, which I completely geeked out on. What you don't see, however, is my sheer terror - there were two FREAKING ALLIGATORS in the water - that I saw, let alone the ones swimming around underneath, just waiting... I was totally expecting a scene out of Lake Placid to occur while I was waiting for Mike to take the picture.

YARN!! I was lucky enough to go to Wild Fibre Yarns while I was in Savannah, and the wall to wall yarny goodness was almost too much for me to handle. The woman who ran the store was so friendly, and even invited me to the stitch in the next day, but alas, I wasn't able to make it. I did, however, treat myself to some pretty sock yarn.

We found a Sonic, and Mike finally, after years of obsessing, was able to procure the Cherry Limeade Slushie of legend. His joy was short-lived, however, upon realization that it was mostly ice. There was no joy in Mudville, ladies and gentlemen.

Oh God. The pirate tour. You have no idea. And the dude at The Pirate House who was impersonating Jack Sparrow (not the guy in the picture)? No.

Sights of Savannah, Part Deux

Racks of bear claw goodness at River Street Sweets

Shot of houses at River Street

Me 'firing' a cannon at Fort Jackson

Mike got his Southern Barbecue!

Cool fountain in the Historic District

The Sights of Savannah, Part One

Vinnie Van Go-Gos Pizza - C'mon, you know you think it's cool.

Alligator Soul. So. Much. Food.

Seashells in the Concrete! (And my toes...)

Steep stairway to River Street

I'm BACK!

Didja miss me?

Okay - Savannah. I need to live there, at least part-time, and soon. It is beautiful. Linda, I ::heart:: you for making sure I didn't miss out on River Street Sweets, which is quite possibly the happiest place on the planet. It's certainly the best smelling. I enjoyed yet another bit of praliney goodness last night, just to remind myself how much I love Savannah.

Homemade ice cream and candy stores lined the blocks of the historic district. Oh. My. GAWD. So. Good.

Who knew there was that much pirate action in Savannah? Mike and I ate at The Pirate's House (more pictures to come, honest), which, according to some other folks we overheard while on the buffet line, has better food than my pal Paula. What a Southern buffet - Southern fried chicken, mashed potatoes, green beans, carrots so sweet they melt in your mouth, and pecan gravy. And do I need to mention that the biscuits were amazing? Seriously, it's the South. It's a law; if you don't have good biscuits, I think they can revoke your license to operate a business.

Anyway, The Pirate's House was quite the hotspot back in the day - it even inspired Robert Louis Stevenson as he wrote Treasure Island. Which completely speaks to the book and history nerd in me. So check it out for the food and the atmosphere, because apparently, there's even a ghost that haunts one of the rooms - as we found out when we took the Hearse Tour.

Yes, you read that right. We loaded ourselves into a hearse and toured haunted Savannah, and it rocked. The customer service, to start, is fantastic - Mike called while we were at lunch, but no one was at the phone. He hung up, and no less than 10 or 15 minutes later, someone called saying that they saw on the caller ID that they had received a phone call and could they help us? Within 5 minutes, we were booked and were going to be picked up at 9 that evening.

The guide, Nathan, was GREAT. From his very cool Linda Blair in Exorcist tee-shirt to his encyclopedic knowledge of haunted Savannah (he needed to pass at 380-question test to score the gig, folks), he kept us laughing and gave us a couple of good old-fashioned jump scares to remember the trip.

We ate at a Moroccan restaurant, Casbah, that made some fantastic food. The belly dancers tried to get us up on a few occasions, but we politely declined. I don't think that needs to be exposed to the public, ya know? I'll leave it to the professionals. We were all set to eat with our right hands as Moroccan families do, but when the saffron rice came out, we looked at each other, looked at the rice, and asked for utensils. Hey, if they had thrown some bread in, I would have given it the old college try. I had chicken kebabs, so I was all good without utensils on that end, at least...

And I would be completely out of line if I didn't talk about our anniversary dinner at Alligator Soul. Mike made the reservations a few weeks in advance, and told the folks it was our anniversary. We got there, and were treated to seats in a beautiful little nook in the restaurant, plus a champagne toast and a complimentary taste of what I think was a new dish the chef is working on - it was delicious; basically (to my very untrained palate) a Cajun chili that had the perfect amount of kick to it. The steaks were awesome, and I burst out laughing when the gentleman I believe was one of the head chefs (I just checked, and it's not head chef Chris Dinello) came over to Mike holding the "Little Eddie" steak, clapped him on the shoulder and said, "That's my steak. You're going to sleep." He smiled at me and said, "Sorry."

It was just a wonderful atomosphere, Southern hospitality in full effect, and it never felt forced. The staff came over to us to make sure we had everything we needed and that we were enjoying ourselves. And when it came time for dessert, my personal-sized cheesecake (ahhhhh... cheesecake) came to me with "Happy Anniversary" written in chocolate. It was just a great ending to a great meal.

All in all, Savannah is beautiful. I can't wait to get back there and bring the kids. I think Will is going to dig the hearse tour - in fact, he doesn't even know I went on it this time. Because I would be in some serious hot water. So let's keep that our little secret, okay?

The South Shall Rise Again...

..and they will do it through their pralines. I am currently suffering from withdrawl of Southern food. It's not fair. They don't send you home with care packages of Southern fried chicken or anything, to help you get yourself off slowly. No, they just cut you off. Luckily for me, I have a box of River Street Sweets here to help get me through the rough patches. Incidentally, their catalog? It has the effect on me that I imagine porn does for men.

So on with the show. I'm going to take a few posts to describe the joy of Savannah, and I'll handle just a bit right now since I'm time crunched and have to get on a freaking plane tomorrow morning.

After a pretty uneventful flight (got some knitting done, and some progress in my latest Doctor Who novel), we landed in Savannah. Mike had to run to the bathroom, so I'm hanging out in the gate area, when I see JAMIE DEEN walk by me. Let that sink in - JAMIE. DEEN. Paula's boy. Being the slick, unaffected New Yorker that I am, I gape, open-mouthed. Then I grab my phone, text Stacey and Piera, and call my mother.

"MOM!!" I hiss. "Jamie Deen just walked into the newstand where I'm standing!"

Mom: "Huh?

Roe: "Mom. Jamie Deen. Jamie. Deen. The older Deen brother!"

Mom: "You saw Jan and Dean?"

Folks, I wouldn't know Jan and Dean if they ran me over in an SUV. The only reason I even know who Jan and Dean are is because they were featured on some K-Tel beach oldies compilation that advertised on Channel 11 (11 Alive!) when I was a kid. I take a deep breath, see Jamie buying some newspapers, and say...

Roe: "JAMIE DEEN! DEEEEEEEN!!! PAULA DEEN'S GORGEOUS SON!"

Mom: "Oh!!! The good-looking one? What about the little one?"

Now, she tells Will that I've seen Jamie Deen, and he's asking me for his autograph. At this point, I get a text from Stacey, so I tell my mother I'll call her back. Stacey's asking for a camera phone shot. Folks, there is NO WAY I can do that surreptitiously, and I would look like an even bigger dope. I'm not in Savannah for 10 minutes and I've blown my street cred entirely. Mike emerges from the bathroom, and I figure I've already gone this far. I run over to him and blurt out, "Jamie Deen is in the newsstand!"

What's that about New Yorkers seeing celebrities all the time, so they don't even notice them? Yeah. Right.

I ask Mike to go get his autograph for his son. He refuses. Apparently, the prospect of meeting Jamie Deen is lost on him. He tells me to go get his autograph. No. We take our bags and walk, as Mike calls his friend who's letting us stay in his apartment while we're in Savannah. I'm busily texting Stacey as Mike casually whacks my shoulder and gestures.

It's Bobby Deen, walking the same way.

I stop in mid-text, and call Karen to trumpet the news. I'm such a nerdling. This is my entrance to Savannah? Complete Food Network fangirl meltdown?

While Mike goes to the car rental desk, I call Stacey and document my shame. She laughs at me. Sigh. I never claimed to be aloof.

Enjoy some Savannah pics while I head to Des Moines; more updates as I go.

Here it is! Paula's restaurant - and this is the closest I got to it...

Aaaaaargh! The wall o'pirate shirts at a store on River Street.

Miles of snackage at River Street Sweets. I think I gained an extra 10 pounds just inhaling.

Awwww... self-portrait on River Street.