Fresh wild duck, killed in flooded Cache River bottomlands near Clarendon, Arkansas by my dad, roasted with rice. I still love duck, but the wild variety (usually mallards or wood ducks) has a very different taste.
Fresh Cache River catfish, pulled out of the river by my dad and I on the trotlines we ran every night from April to October, and fried in a cast iron pot on a gas burner mounted in a fifty-five gallon drum. As with ducks, the farm-raised fish are fine in their way and I’m glad they’re available, but fish that have been nourished on all the detritus of a muddy river have a unique, stronger flavor that makes the farm-raised ones seem sort of insipid.
I lost any enthusiasm I ever had for hunting and fishing when I was in junior high, and my family moved away from the area, so my dad doesn’t hunt at all and fishes only on rare occasions now; all of these are only memories that I’ll probably never experience again.
Watermelons and strawberries bought in the field where they were grown in Woodruff County, Arkansas. No grocery store produce should even be mentioned in the same breath.
Peanut butter, chocolate, and banana milkshakes from a now-defunct drive-in place in Conway, Arkansas, during my college years.
Yarnell’s Ice Cream, a brand made in Searcy, Arkansas and available only in Arkansas and very limited areas of Mississippi. Their homemade vanilla flavor may well be the best commercial ice cream I’ve ever had. This I do still get to experience on trips home, at least.
Shotgun Dan’s pizza: another Arkansas-specific item. At one time there were three or four locations; at least two are left, but I haven’t had a chance to go back in nearly fifteen years. In college, my girlfriend and I would drive from Conway to Sherwood (about an hour’s drive) just to eat there. Very thin, crispy crust and a mouth feel to the cheese and meat topping that I’ve never encountered in any other pizza. Don’t even know if I’d still like it now, but I do miss the pleasurable associations.
Reading this, you’d think I really miss Arkansas. In fact, reading this, you now know practically everything that I do miss about Arkansas. Great place to eat, but god help you if you have to live there.
In Atlanta, the only thing I miss that I haven’t found an equivalent or better substitute for is the boliche at a little Cuban place (now closed) I used to go to near North Druid Hills and Briarcliff. Actually, there’s one other menu item I miss – not as something to consume, but as a menu item: the “businessman’s breakfast” at a little breakfast/lunch place across the street from Emory University (also now closed); it consisted of a cup of coffee and a cigarette (price: 75 cents, back before either coffee or cigarettes got quite so expensive).