I believe this is where my biscuit obsession got serious. Up until then, it was more of a craving, an inside joke, a form of nostalgia.
It was in the fall of 2012. We went to a new coffee house in East Nashville – Barista Parlor. We’d read about it on Yelp and could not believe there was a place in East Nashville that we had not tried yet.
One cool thing about Barista Parlor is how you get to pick your roast and each cup is made to order. It also has this major hipster vibe. The kind of vibe where I know I am not hip enough to be there at all – except that I am old enough to not care.
They also have a very small food menu. I recall on that first visit ordering a cup of some exotic sounding coffee and then getting a sausage biscuit almost as an afterthought. The coffee was good. Very good. But the sausage biscuit?
Oh. My. God.
We discussed it obsessively the entire time we were there. How the biscuit was just the right size, the right level of flaky vs. fluffy, the perfect venue for the sausage that (we later discovered) came from Porter Road Butcher next door. The sausage was like nothing I’d had before. Perhaps it was just sage or something simple like that but it was amazing. And then to bring the whole thing together and provide a sweet balance to the salt and herb flavors, there was this dollop of strawberry preserves that proceeded to ooze out over the sides.
I have to be honest. I never would have put those things together. But that is why we go out to eat right? What would have seemed odd to me before – became the breakfast sandwich that I can only describe as sublime. My mild obsession turned into a full blown case of Biscuit Obsessed Syndrome, and also created a grave concern of mine that biscuits were being overlooked in the current culinary climate. And so . . . a blog was born.