The Time I Experienced Real Southern Dining

So, in contrast to the Barrel (CB's as I like to now call it, so I can sound appropriately like a trucker), I went to a little "Meat and Two" in Greensboro called Hable's Hearth. I'll be honest, it doesn't sound delicious as my mind automatically connects olde English words like "hearth" with "cholera" and "your ox couldn't forde the river." Needless to say Brandon and I were hungry and so we departed work to visit Hable's Hearth on a Tuesday or possibly a Wednesday. 

Brandon had only heard of this place through a friend and I'm pretty sure that friend had never actually eaten there, so we have no point of reference for this meat and two (Side note: A meat and two is a restaurant where you choose 1 meat and two vegetables. The menu incorrectly listed Mac and Cheese and possibly Grits as vegetables.) I was also made aware that this place was in the basement of some other type of store on a street that I rarely visit and parking was sketchy at best. We found the place and then got out of the car and instantly realized this place had no windows and I guarantee you've probably never been in a restaurant with no windows, because you would remember it, you feel like you are eating at grandma's and that you won't be escaping until you clean your plate and fix here 1977 microwave. Good times. 

Once we walk in, we are immediately greeted by a sign that says "THIS IS A FAMILY RESTAURANT, DONT CURSE, DONT BE RUDE. TIP." Or something like that. This automatically made me feel like smashing the windows they didn't have. I am greeted by a waitress that seats us immediately at a booth where the seats were definitely rescued from a school cafeteria, it was that shitty plastic that sticks to your legs but is somehow also still ice cold, great for any temperature occasion! (This is not suprising considering, the seats cannot tell what the weather is like outside and I guess they just try to do their best to make you feel hot and cold all at once. And yes I'm hung up on the no windows thing. I think it's just weird to basically eat in someone's basement unless the food is free.)

The rest of the dining room is what my parents basement looked like in 1987. Wood panelling, miscolored shag carpet and a retractable screen door that apparently seperated the giant smoking section from the small 7 table non-smoking section. The "kitchen" was in the dining room and was seperated by dated interlocking wood fencing so you could see the workers not spit (or spit) into your food. 

We order quickly and we both get the special "Chicken Dumplings, 1 Side, 1 Drink for 6.00 even (with tax)". Sounded like a deal. The waiter then gave us cornbread and inferred that it was unlimited (I would test this.) Less than 3 minutes later the food came out on plastic plates that I ate off of as a child (half because it was the 80's and half because I was a child and I was given plastic so I wouldn't smash it.) Apparently this restaurant doesn't trust it's clientele to not have a civil war flashback and start smashing. 

The food didn't look great (possibly because it was obviously pre-prepared) but it tasted pretty good. There is nothing like eating a combination of Chicken, Dumplings and cornbread off of plastic. Brandon and I couldn't decide between mashed potatoes and sweet potatoes, so we each got one and divided it in half. I tried the sweet potatoes first and they were pretty good but tasted like they had been doused in cinnamon or some other ingredient that screamed "AUTUMN RECIPE." The mashed potatoes were decent at best and Brandon and I both agreed that while it wasn't great, it was worth the $6. 

After finishing my meal, I ordered two more free cornbreads (they weren't that good, but they were FREE) and polished them off while Brandon and I debated who "Hable" was. I decided that it was a last name because Hable as a first name just seems too dumb and the only name close is to it is Hazel and you might be retarded if you are aiming for Hazel and you get Hable. Brandon spewed some argument about another first name that rhymes with Hable that I can't remember (Mable?), and was convinced it could be a first name. So as we checked out, Brandon noticed a sign that indicated Hable was the last name and I was victorious. 

I can not declare a winner in the Faux Southern dining vs Real southern dining because both were not places I'd jump to go back to. If it was about money I'd go Hable's because it was dirt cheap and sometimes I like to cower in spaces with no natural light. The atmosphere in both? Nothing short of atrocious and the food was pretty close to equal as the mad scientists at CB's know how to make your eyes feel like they want to fuck a skillet.