A few weekends ago I had a low key welcome back get-together with a few friends. My goal for the evening was to show them the awesomeness that is Martin Scorsese’s “The Last Waltz”, his documentary on the last performance of The Band.
Credit: Last.fm
If you love The Band I hope this is on your list of great films. Not only do you get to hear a full concert by The Band, but you also get to hear them play with the likes of Muddy Waters, Van Morrison, Emmylou Harris, Neil Diamond, Neil Young, and, of course, Bob Dylan.
On the other hand, my friends’ goal for the evening was to introduce me to a Nashville institution: Hot Chicken. There is a triple crown of Hot Chicken joints in Nashville: Bolton’s, Prince’s, and 400 Degrees. My friends decided I should try 400 Degrees first. We sampled all three of their categories (my impressions in parentheticals): 100 degrees (“Oooh, giggle giggle, that’s kinda hot!”), 200 degrees (“Whew, oh yeah, that’s the kick I’m looking for! Hand me the milk, quick!”), and 400 degrees (“EEEEhhhGGGuuuHHH, HrnNnNNNN, UGHhhhhghGH”).
After we’d taken the requisite hour to let our mouths return to less than nuclear conditions, I decided it would be a perfect time to crack a bottle of 1985 Fonseca Port. Backstory: 1985, the year I was born, turned out to be a vintage year for Fonseca. My parents decided to grab a case to present to me when I turned 21. Up until this get together, I’d only had one bottle, shared with my parents and some family friends. So I decided to keep up the idea of sharing the stuff with close friends and we all enjoyed the second bottle thoroughly. Hooray for getting sauced on incredibly good drink!
