New recipes

Long Weekend in… Asheville, North Carolina

Long Weekend in… Asheville, North Carolina


We are searching data for your request:

Forums and discussions:
Manuals and reference books:
Data from registers:
Wait the end of the search in all databases.
Upon completion, a link will appear to access the found materials.

What’s not to love about a weekend escape to Asheville “Any way you like it” North Carolina? Nestled in the Blue Ridge Mountains, the town is surrounded by streams, trails, and thick forests in every direction, perfect for whatever your outdoor pleasure might be.

There’s hiking or biking in the North Carolina Arboretum, kayaking down the French Broad River, or fly fishing in nearby Smoky Mountains National Park. For those looking to discover the local culture, there’s “Shindig on the Green,” a free Saturday night folk jam session held in the town square. A wide sampling of instrument-wielding humanity, from hippies to doctors to professors, wanders around the

ad hoc groups asking, “You need a fiddle? Need a banjo?” Sometimes they don’t even bother to ask, they just jump right in and start picking to the beat. What follows is the sound of Americana.

If you’re looking for something more opulent, there is the Biltmore Estate. For $54 (!), you can tour the 250-room French chateau that the Vanderbilt family built in 1895 as a summer retreat. Now a museum, the architectural marvel is both amazing and absurd. Who needs 65 fireplaces—especially in the summer? (Photo courtesy of Flickr/dustinphillips)

Afterwards, retire to one of Asheville’s ten breweries. The town of 76,000 people has the most per capita in America. On any given day you can sample some 50 local brews. Besides beer, Asheville turns out Southern cuisine that holds its own against its neighbors and ribs that compete with Texas — yes, Texas. If the town ever wanted to change its motto, it could easily be, “Great food at an honest price.” One look at your bill and you’ll wonder how they can get away with charging so little. The following establishments are some of the best Asheville has to offer. As for what order to put them in on your trip, I’m going to leave it up to you because you should have it any way you like it.

Recommended dish: 12 dry-rub brown sugar ribs, corn pudding, jalape

ño cheese grits ($18)

This barebones smokehouse is only open Monday through Friday from 11 a.m. to 4 p.m. Anyone who can get away with that kind of schedule must be doing something right. And 12 Bones is, judging by the lines that stretch out the door, around the corner, and around another corner. The wait is worth it. Though you’re in Carolina, try the house specialty — ribs (as President Obama did on a visit last year). The crackly baby back meat comes in a variety of rotating flavors: award-winning blueberry-chipotle, dry-cured brown sugar, salt and pepper “nekkid,” and caramel cola Q. They’re served with two sides, so balance out the meal with a “vegetable,” like the moist corn pudding or jalapeño cheese grits. For those going all in, there are also sides of sliced brisket and pulled pork. (Photo courtesy of Matt McCue)

Recommended dish: Shrimp and goat cheese grits ($15.45), fried okra ($3.25), mac and cheese ($3.25)

Whether you’re starting off the day with the sweet potato pancakes covered in peach butter and pecans or ending it on chef Brian’s shrimp and goat cheese grits, this downtown institution is a smart choice. The outdoor seating offers a complimentary taste of the Saturday night st reet performers—like a man dressed as a nun turning tricks on a seven-foot-high tricycle.

The kicker here is the complimentary warm and buttery biscuits that precede every meal. Drizzle it with, yes, Tupelo Honey. (Dare we say the blueberry preserves is an even better accompaniment?) The “farm-fresh” sides are a steal and can easily make a meal: cornmeal-coated fried okra, a healthy scoop of velvety mac and cheese, or crunchy fried green tomatoes. Of the six local brews on tap, the French Broad Wee-Heavy-Er Scotch Ale is a mouthful to order, but it goes down easy.


The Long Weekend: Asheville, North Carolina

Asheville is remote, peculiar, and self-obsessed—three of the main reasons that it deserves your attention. Having heard great things about the town, my girlfriend and I were excited to use the excuse of a friend’s wedding to discover this oddity. An unmistakably green outpost in the Great Smokies, Asheville is so walkable that you can traverse downtown in about 10 minutes. And compared to the esoteric nose-thumbing one encounters while visiting other “hip” locales, the people couldn’t be nicer. Over an organic, shade-grown, fairly-traded coffee at The Green Sage (which is powered by solar panels), I watched a man bum out a whole pack of cigarettes to a couple from out of town. “Take ’em all,” he said. “I really need to cut back.”

Walking down Broadway, we stopped to look at a storefront full of stained glass. The owner of the store, a glass-artist named Steve, greeted us and asked us to come in. What followed was an hour and a half of New Age musing. Did you know that Asheville is built on the largest white quartz deposit in the state? And that white quartz is a crystal that helps with brain function? And, because the crystal is empowered by the magnetic field that grasps North Carolina from space, that the entire city of Asheville is in effect a giant mind? I didn’t either. We were told how to find four leaf clovers (hint: you have to “become” the clover. Steve did this by eating a bunch). We were told that there are no accidents, that we could just as easily have gone to the Outer Banks for the weekend, but fate brought us to Asheville. I nodded, then bought a dichroic-glass wine stopper for my mom. This was all while a pixie-bob kitten wrestled with our legs.

We ate lunch at Tupelo Honey Cafe, which has the best whipped peach butter and people watching in the South. The food is organic, local, and hearty, as is the waitstaff, but the passerbys are the real treat. On the same block you’ll find the gallery owner who was sick of New York, the star-eyed folk singer, the Christian fundamentalist with a bullhorn, and the families who drove down from the hills for a day in the city. Everyone says hello.

While the boutiques are filled with authentic bits of folk art and organic food abounds, the true Asheville is out on the sidewalk. You will never see a group of people as diverse as here.

After some barhopping (there are some great microbrew taphouses, like Barley’s and Asheville Brewing Company)

we stumbled upon yet another only-in-Asheville scene. In an alley off Biltmore Avenue, a group of locals had set up a makeshift rave. DJ La Muerte played breakbeats on a laptop. Four or five partiers drunkenly waved glowsticks while a panicked chocolate Lab (glowstick around neck)

ran in circles. Once you think you have this city figured out, you stumble across an unholy blend of Deliverance and 24 Hour Party People.

Afterwards, I ordered a vodka tonic at the bar across the street. The bartender looked at me and asked, “Why not try a mojito? We have this great locally grown organic mint.”


The Long Weekend: Asheville, North Carolina

Asheville is remote, peculiar, and self-obsessed—three of the main reasons that it deserves your attention. Having heard great things about the town, my girlfriend and I were excited to use the excuse of a friend’s wedding to discover this oddity. An unmistakably green outpost in the Great Smokies, Asheville is so walkable that you can traverse downtown in about 10 minutes. And compared to the esoteric nose-thumbing one encounters while visiting other “hip” locales, the people couldn’t be nicer. Over an organic, shade-grown, fairly-traded coffee at The Green Sage (which is powered by solar panels), I watched a man bum out a whole pack of cigarettes to a couple from out of town. “Take ’em all,” he said. “I really need to cut back.”

Walking down Broadway, we stopped to look at a storefront full of stained glass. The owner of the store, a glass-artist named Steve, greeted us and asked us to come in. What followed was an hour and a half of New Age musing. Did you know that Asheville is built on the largest white quartz deposit in the state? And that white quartz is a crystal that helps with brain function? And, because the crystal is empowered by the magnetic field that grasps North Carolina from space, that the entire city of Asheville is in effect a giant mind? I didn’t either. We were told how to find four leaf clovers (hint: you have to “become” the clover. Steve did this by eating a bunch). We were told that there are no accidents, that we could just as easily have gone to the Outer Banks for the weekend, but fate brought us to Asheville. I nodded, then bought a dichroic-glass wine stopper for my mom. This was all while a pixie-bob kitten wrestled with our legs.

We ate lunch at Tupelo Honey Cafe, which has the best whipped peach butter and people watching in the South. The food is organic, local, and hearty, as is the waitstaff, but the passerbys are the real treat. On the same block you’ll find the gallery owner who was sick of New York, the star-eyed folk singer, the Christian fundamentalist with a bullhorn, and the families who drove down from the hills for a day in the city. Everyone says hello.

While the boutiques are filled with authentic bits of folk art and organic food abounds, the true Asheville is out on the sidewalk. You will never see a group of people as diverse as here.

After some barhopping (there are some great microbrew taphouses, like Barley’s and Asheville Brewing Company)

we stumbled upon yet another only-in-Asheville scene. In an alley off Biltmore Avenue, a group of locals had set up a makeshift rave. DJ La Muerte played breakbeats on a laptop. Four or five partiers drunkenly waved glowsticks while a panicked chocolate Lab (glowstick around neck)

ran in circles. Once you think you have this city figured out, you stumble across an unholy blend of Deliverance and 24 Hour Party People.

Afterwards, I ordered a vodka tonic at the bar across the street. The bartender looked at me and asked, “Why not try a mojito? We have this great locally grown organic mint.”


The Long Weekend: Asheville, North Carolina

Asheville is remote, peculiar, and self-obsessed—three of the main reasons that it deserves your attention. Having heard great things about the town, my girlfriend and I were excited to use the excuse of a friend’s wedding to discover this oddity. An unmistakably green outpost in the Great Smokies, Asheville is so walkable that you can traverse downtown in about 10 minutes. And compared to the esoteric nose-thumbing one encounters while visiting other “hip” locales, the people couldn’t be nicer. Over an organic, shade-grown, fairly-traded coffee at The Green Sage (which is powered by solar panels), I watched a man bum out a whole pack of cigarettes to a couple from out of town. “Take ’em all,” he said. “I really need to cut back.”

Walking down Broadway, we stopped to look at a storefront full of stained glass. The owner of the store, a glass-artist named Steve, greeted us and asked us to come in. What followed was an hour and a half of New Age musing. Did you know that Asheville is built on the largest white quartz deposit in the state? And that white quartz is a crystal that helps with brain function? And, because the crystal is empowered by the magnetic field that grasps North Carolina from space, that the entire city of Asheville is in effect a giant mind? I didn’t either. We were told how to find four leaf clovers (hint: you have to “become” the clover. Steve did this by eating a bunch). We were told that there are no accidents, that we could just as easily have gone to the Outer Banks for the weekend, but fate brought us to Asheville. I nodded, then bought a dichroic-glass wine stopper for my mom. This was all while a pixie-bob kitten wrestled with our legs.

We ate lunch at Tupelo Honey Cafe, which has the best whipped peach butter and people watching in the South. The food is organic, local, and hearty, as is the waitstaff, but the passerbys are the real treat. On the same block you’ll find the gallery owner who was sick of New York, the star-eyed folk singer, the Christian fundamentalist with a bullhorn, and the families who drove down from the hills for a day in the city. Everyone says hello.

While the boutiques are filled with authentic bits of folk art and organic food abounds, the true Asheville is out on the sidewalk. You will never see a group of people as diverse as here.

After some barhopping (there are some great microbrew taphouses, like Barley’s and Asheville Brewing Company)

we stumbled upon yet another only-in-Asheville scene. In an alley off Biltmore Avenue, a group of locals had set up a makeshift rave. DJ La Muerte played breakbeats on a laptop. Four or five partiers drunkenly waved glowsticks while a panicked chocolate Lab (glowstick around neck)

ran in circles. Once you think you have this city figured out, you stumble across an unholy blend of Deliverance and 24 Hour Party People.

Afterwards, I ordered a vodka tonic at the bar across the street. The bartender looked at me and asked, “Why not try a mojito? We have this great locally grown organic mint.”


The Long Weekend: Asheville, North Carolina

Asheville is remote, peculiar, and self-obsessed—three of the main reasons that it deserves your attention. Having heard great things about the town, my girlfriend and I were excited to use the excuse of a friend’s wedding to discover this oddity. An unmistakably green outpost in the Great Smokies, Asheville is so walkable that you can traverse downtown in about 10 minutes. And compared to the esoteric nose-thumbing one encounters while visiting other “hip” locales, the people couldn’t be nicer. Over an organic, shade-grown, fairly-traded coffee at The Green Sage (which is powered by solar panels), I watched a man bum out a whole pack of cigarettes to a couple from out of town. “Take ’em all,” he said. “I really need to cut back.”

Walking down Broadway, we stopped to look at a storefront full of stained glass. The owner of the store, a glass-artist named Steve, greeted us and asked us to come in. What followed was an hour and a half of New Age musing. Did you know that Asheville is built on the largest white quartz deposit in the state? And that white quartz is a crystal that helps with brain function? And, because the crystal is empowered by the magnetic field that grasps North Carolina from space, that the entire city of Asheville is in effect a giant mind? I didn’t either. We were told how to find four leaf clovers (hint: you have to “become” the clover. Steve did this by eating a bunch). We were told that there are no accidents, that we could just as easily have gone to the Outer Banks for the weekend, but fate brought us to Asheville. I nodded, then bought a dichroic-glass wine stopper for my mom. This was all while a pixie-bob kitten wrestled with our legs.

We ate lunch at Tupelo Honey Cafe, which has the best whipped peach butter and people watching in the South. The food is organic, local, and hearty, as is the waitstaff, but the passerbys are the real treat. On the same block you’ll find the gallery owner who was sick of New York, the star-eyed folk singer, the Christian fundamentalist with a bullhorn, and the families who drove down from the hills for a day in the city. Everyone says hello.

While the boutiques are filled with authentic bits of folk art and organic food abounds, the true Asheville is out on the sidewalk. You will never see a group of people as diverse as here.

After some barhopping (there are some great microbrew taphouses, like Barley’s and Asheville Brewing Company)

we stumbled upon yet another only-in-Asheville scene. In an alley off Biltmore Avenue, a group of locals had set up a makeshift rave. DJ La Muerte played breakbeats on a laptop. Four or five partiers drunkenly waved glowsticks while a panicked chocolate Lab (glowstick around neck)

ran in circles. Once you think you have this city figured out, you stumble across an unholy blend of Deliverance and 24 Hour Party People.

Afterwards, I ordered a vodka tonic at the bar across the street. The bartender looked at me and asked, “Why not try a mojito? We have this great locally grown organic mint.”


The Long Weekend: Asheville, North Carolina

Asheville is remote, peculiar, and self-obsessed—three of the main reasons that it deserves your attention. Having heard great things about the town, my girlfriend and I were excited to use the excuse of a friend’s wedding to discover this oddity. An unmistakably green outpost in the Great Smokies, Asheville is so walkable that you can traverse downtown in about 10 minutes. And compared to the esoteric nose-thumbing one encounters while visiting other “hip” locales, the people couldn’t be nicer. Over an organic, shade-grown, fairly-traded coffee at The Green Sage (which is powered by solar panels), I watched a man bum out a whole pack of cigarettes to a couple from out of town. “Take ’em all,” he said. “I really need to cut back.”

Walking down Broadway, we stopped to look at a storefront full of stained glass. The owner of the store, a glass-artist named Steve, greeted us and asked us to come in. What followed was an hour and a half of New Age musing. Did you know that Asheville is built on the largest white quartz deposit in the state? And that white quartz is a crystal that helps with brain function? And, because the crystal is empowered by the magnetic field that grasps North Carolina from space, that the entire city of Asheville is in effect a giant mind? I didn’t either. We were told how to find four leaf clovers (hint: you have to “become” the clover. Steve did this by eating a bunch). We were told that there are no accidents, that we could just as easily have gone to the Outer Banks for the weekend, but fate brought us to Asheville. I nodded, then bought a dichroic-glass wine stopper for my mom. This was all while a pixie-bob kitten wrestled with our legs.

We ate lunch at Tupelo Honey Cafe, which has the best whipped peach butter and people watching in the South. The food is organic, local, and hearty, as is the waitstaff, but the passerbys are the real treat. On the same block you’ll find the gallery owner who was sick of New York, the star-eyed folk singer, the Christian fundamentalist with a bullhorn, and the families who drove down from the hills for a day in the city. Everyone says hello.

While the boutiques are filled with authentic bits of folk art and organic food abounds, the true Asheville is out on the sidewalk. You will never see a group of people as diverse as here.

After some barhopping (there are some great microbrew taphouses, like Barley’s and Asheville Brewing Company)

we stumbled upon yet another only-in-Asheville scene. In an alley off Biltmore Avenue, a group of locals had set up a makeshift rave. DJ La Muerte played breakbeats on a laptop. Four or five partiers drunkenly waved glowsticks while a panicked chocolate Lab (glowstick around neck)

ran in circles. Once you think you have this city figured out, you stumble across an unholy blend of Deliverance and 24 Hour Party People.

Afterwards, I ordered a vodka tonic at the bar across the street. The bartender looked at me and asked, “Why not try a mojito? We have this great locally grown organic mint.”


The Long Weekend: Asheville, North Carolina

Asheville is remote, peculiar, and self-obsessed—three of the main reasons that it deserves your attention. Having heard great things about the town, my girlfriend and I were excited to use the excuse of a friend’s wedding to discover this oddity. An unmistakably green outpost in the Great Smokies, Asheville is so walkable that you can traverse downtown in about 10 minutes. And compared to the esoteric nose-thumbing one encounters while visiting other “hip” locales, the people couldn’t be nicer. Over an organic, shade-grown, fairly-traded coffee at The Green Sage (which is powered by solar panels), I watched a man bum out a whole pack of cigarettes to a couple from out of town. “Take ’em all,” he said. “I really need to cut back.”

Walking down Broadway, we stopped to look at a storefront full of stained glass. The owner of the store, a glass-artist named Steve, greeted us and asked us to come in. What followed was an hour and a half of New Age musing. Did you know that Asheville is built on the largest white quartz deposit in the state? And that white quartz is a crystal that helps with brain function? And, because the crystal is empowered by the magnetic field that grasps North Carolina from space, that the entire city of Asheville is in effect a giant mind? I didn’t either. We were told how to find four leaf clovers (hint: you have to “become” the clover. Steve did this by eating a bunch). We were told that there are no accidents, that we could just as easily have gone to the Outer Banks for the weekend, but fate brought us to Asheville. I nodded, then bought a dichroic-glass wine stopper for my mom. This was all while a pixie-bob kitten wrestled with our legs.

We ate lunch at Tupelo Honey Cafe, which has the best whipped peach butter and people watching in the South. The food is organic, local, and hearty, as is the waitstaff, but the passerbys are the real treat. On the same block you’ll find the gallery owner who was sick of New York, the star-eyed folk singer, the Christian fundamentalist with a bullhorn, and the families who drove down from the hills for a day in the city. Everyone says hello.

While the boutiques are filled with authentic bits of folk art and organic food abounds, the true Asheville is out on the sidewalk. You will never see a group of people as diverse as here.

After some barhopping (there are some great microbrew taphouses, like Barley’s and Asheville Brewing Company)

we stumbled upon yet another only-in-Asheville scene. In an alley off Biltmore Avenue, a group of locals had set up a makeshift rave. DJ La Muerte played breakbeats on a laptop. Four or five partiers drunkenly waved glowsticks while a panicked chocolate Lab (glowstick around neck)

ran in circles. Once you think you have this city figured out, you stumble across an unholy blend of Deliverance and 24 Hour Party People.

Afterwards, I ordered a vodka tonic at the bar across the street. The bartender looked at me and asked, “Why not try a mojito? We have this great locally grown organic mint.”


The Long Weekend: Asheville, North Carolina

Asheville is remote, peculiar, and self-obsessed—three of the main reasons that it deserves your attention. Having heard great things about the town, my girlfriend and I were excited to use the excuse of a friend’s wedding to discover this oddity. An unmistakably green outpost in the Great Smokies, Asheville is so walkable that you can traverse downtown in about 10 minutes. And compared to the esoteric nose-thumbing one encounters while visiting other “hip” locales, the people couldn’t be nicer. Over an organic, shade-grown, fairly-traded coffee at The Green Sage (which is powered by solar panels), I watched a man bum out a whole pack of cigarettes to a couple from out of town. “Take ’em all,” he said. “I really need to cut back.”

Walking down Broadway, we stopped to look at a storefront full of stained glass. The owner of the store, a glass-artist named Steve, greeted us and asked us to come in. What followed was an hour and a half of New Age musing. Did you know that Asheville is built on the largest white quartz deposit in the state? And that white quartz is a crystal that helps with brain function? And, because the crystal is empowered by the magnetic field that grasps North Carolina from space, that the entire city of Asheville is in effect a giant mind? I didn’t either. We were told how to find four leaf clovers (hint: you have to “become” the clover. Steve did this by eating a bunch). We were told that there are no accidents, that we could just as easily have gone to the Outer Banks for the weekend, but fate brought us to Asheville. I nodded, then bought a dichroic-glass wine stopper for my mom. This was all while a pixie-bob kitten wrestled with our legs.

We ate lunch at Tupelo Honey Cafe, which has the best whipped peach butter and people watching in the South. The food is organic, local, and hearty, as is the waitstaff, but the passerbys are the real treat. On the same block you’ll find the gallery owner who was sick of New York, the star-eyed folk singer, the Christian fundamentalist with a bullhorn, and the families who drove down from the hills for a day in the city. Everyone says hello.

While the boutiques are filled with authentic bits of folk art and organic food abounds, the true Asheville is out on the sidewalk. You will never see a group of people as diverse as here.

After some barhopping (there are some great microbrew taphouses, like Barley’s and Asheville Brewing Company)

we stumbled upon yet another only-in-Asheville scene. In an alley off Biltmore Avenue, a group of locals had set up a makeshift rave. DJ La Muerte played breakbeats on a laptop. Four or five partiers drunkenly waved glowsticks while a panicked chocolate Lab (glowstick around neck)

ran in circles. Once you think you have this city figured out, you stumble across an unholy blend of Deliverance and 24 Hour Party People.

Afterwards, I ordered a vodka tonic at the bar across the street. The bartender looked at me and asked, “Why not try a mojito? We have this great locally grown organic mint.”


The Long Weekend: Asheville, North Carolina

Asheville is remote, peculiar, and self-obsessed—three of the main reasons that it deserves your attention. Having heard great things about the town, my girlfriend and I were excited to use the excuse of a friend’s wedding to discover this oddity. An unmistakably green outpost in the Great Smokies, Asheville is so walkable that you can traverse downtown in about 10 minutes. And compared to the esoteric nose-thumbing one encounters while visiting other “hip” locales, the people couldn’t be nicer. Over an organic, shade-grown, fairly-traded coffee at The Green Sage (which is powered by solar panels), I watched a man bum out a whole pack of cigarettes to a couple from out of town. “Take ’em all,” he said. “I really need to cut back.”

Walking down Broadway, we stopped to look at a storefront full of stained glass. The owner of the store, a glass-artist named Steve, greeted us and asked us to come in. What followed was an hour and a half of New Age musing. Did you know that Asheville is built on the largest white quartz deposit in the state? And that white quartz is a crystal that helps with brain function? And, because the crystal is empowered by the magnetic field that grasps North Carolina from space, that the entire city of Asheville is in effect a giant mind? I didn’t either. We were told how to find four leaf clovers (hint: you have to “become” the clover. Steve did this by eating a bunch). We were told that there are no accidents, that we could just as easily have gone to the Outer Banks for the weekend, but fate brought us to Asheville. I nodded, then bought a dichroic-glass wine stopper for my mom. This was all while a pixie-bob kitten wrestled with our legs.

We ate lunch at Tupelo Honey Cafe, which has the best whipped peach butter and people watching in the South. The food is organic, local, and hearty, as is the waitstaff, but the passerbys are the real treat. On the same block you’ll find the gallery owner who was sick of New York, the star-eyed folk singer, the Christian fundamentalist with a bullhorn, and the families who drove down from the hills for a day in the city. Everyone says hello.

While the boutiques are filled with authentic bits of folk art and organic food abounds, the true Asheville is out on the sidewalk. You will never see a group of people as diverse as here.

After some barhopping (there are some great microbrew taphouses, like Barley’s and Asheville Brewing Company)

we stumbled upon yet another only-in-Asheville scene. In an alley off Biltmore Avenue, a group of locals had set up a makeshift rave. DJ La Muerte played breakbeats on a laptop. Four or five partiers drunkenly waved glowsticks while a panicked chocolate Lab (glowstick around neck)

ran in circles. Once you think you have this city figured out, you stumble across an unholy blend of Deliverance and 24 Hour Party People.

Afterwards, I ordered a vodka tonic at the bar across the street. The bartender looked at me and asked, “Why not try a mojito? We have this great locally grown organic mint.”


The Long Weekend: Asheville, North Carolina

Asheville is remote, peculiar, and self-obsessed—three of the main reasons that it deserves your attention. Having heard great things about the town, my girlfriend and I were excited to use the excuse of a friend’s wedding to discover this oddity. An unmistakably green outpost in the Great Smokies, Asheville is so walkable that you can traverse downtown in about 10 minutes. And compared to the esoteric nose-thumbing one encounters while visiting other “hip” locales, the people couldn’t be nicer. Over an organic, shade-grown, fairly-traded coffee at The Green Sage (which is powered by solar panels), I watched a man bum out a whole pack of cigarettes to a couple from out of town. “Take ’em all,” he said. “I really need to cut back.”

Walking down Broadway, we stopped to look at a storefront full of stained glass. The owner of the store, a glass-artist named Steve, greeted us and asked us to come in. What followed was an hour and a half of New Age musing. Did you know that Asheville is built on the largest white quartz deposit in the state? And that white quartz is a crystal that helps with brain function? And, because the crystal is empowered by the magnetic field that grasps North Carolina from space, that the entire city of Asheville is in effect a giant mind? I didn’t either. We were told how to find four leaf clovers (hint: you have to “become” the clover. Steve did this by eating a bunch). We were told that there are no accidents, that we could just as easily have gone to the Outer Banks for the weekend, but fate brought us to Asheville. I nodded, then bought a dichroic-glass wine stopper for my mom. This was all while a pixie-bob kitten wrestled with our legs.

We ate lunch at Tupelo Honey Cafe, which has the best whipped peach butter and people watching in the South. The food is organic, local, and hearty, as is the waitstaff, but the passerbys are the real treat. On the same block you’ll find the gallery owner who was sick of New York, the star-eyed folk singer, the Christian fundamentalist with a bullhorn, and the families who drove down from the hills for a day in the city. Everyone says hello.

While the boutiques are filled with authentic bits of folk art and organic food abounds, the true Asheville is out on the sidewalk. You will never see a group of people as diverse as here.

After some barhopping (there are some great microbrew taphouses, like Barley’s and Asheville Brewing Company)

we stumbled upon yet another only-in-Asheville scene. In an alley off Biltmore Avenue, a group of locals had set up a makeshift rave. DJ La Muerte played breakbeats on a laptop. Four or five partiers drunkenly waved glowsticks while a panicked chocolate Lab (glowstick around neck)

ran in circles. Once you think you have this city figured out, you stumble across an unholy blend of Deliverance and 24 Hour Party People.

Afterwards, I ordered a vodka tonic at the bar across the street. The bartender looked at me and asked, “Why not try a mojito? We have this great locally grown organic mint.”


The Long Weekend: Asheville, North Carolina

Asheville is remote, peculiar, and self-obsessed—three of the main reasons that it deserves your attention. Having heard great things about the town, my girlfriend and I were excited to use the excuse of a friend’s wedding to discover this oddity. An unmistakably green outpost in the Great Smokies, Asheville is so walkable that you can traverse downtown in about 10 minutes. And compared to the esoteric nose-thumbing one encounters while visiting other “hip” locales, the people couldn’t be nicer. Over an organic, shade-grown, fairly-traded coffee at The Green Sage (which is powered by solar panels), I watched a man bum out a whole pack of cigarettes to a couple from out of town. “Take ’em all,” he said. “I really need to cut back.”

Walking down Broadway, we stopped to look at a storefront full of stained glass. The owner of the store, a glass-artist named Steve, greeted us and asked us to come in. What followed was an hour and a half of New Age musing. Did you know that Asheville is built on the largest white quartz deposit in the state? And that white quartz is a crystal that helps with brain function? And, because the crystal is empowered by the magnetic field that grasps North Carolina from space, that the entire city of Asheville is in effect a giant mind? I didn’t either. We were told how to find four leaf clovers (hint: you have to “become” the clover. Steve did this by eating a bunch). We were told that there are no accidents, that we could just as easily have gone to the Outer Banks for the weekend, but fate brought us to Asheville. I nodded, then bought a dichroic-glass wine stopper for my mom. This was all while a pixie-bob kitten wrestled with our legs.

We ate lunch at Tupelo Honey Cafe, which has the best whipped peach butter and people watching in the South. The food is organic, local, and hearty, as is the waitstaff, but the passerbys are the real treat. On the same block you’ll find the gallery owner who was sick of New York, the star-eyed folk singer, the Christian fundamentalist with a bullhorn, and the families who drove down from the hills for a day in the city. Everyone says hello.

While the boutiques are filled with authentic bits of folk art and organic food abounds, the true Asheville is out on the sidewalk. You will never see a group of people as diverse as here.

After some barhopping (there are some great microbrew taphouses, like Barley’s and Asheville Brewing Company)

we stumbled upon yet another only-in-Asheville scene. In an alley off Biltmore Avenue, a group of locals had set up a makeshift rave. DJ La Muerte played breakbeats on a laptop. Four or five partiers drunkenly waved glowsticks while a panicked chocolate Lab (glowstick around neck)

ran in circles. Once you think you have this city figured out, you stumble across an unholy blend of Deliverance and 24 Hour Party People.

Afterwards, I ordered a vodka tonic at the bar across the street. The bartender looked at me and asked, “Why not try a mojito? We have this great locally grown organic mint.”



Comments:

  1. Shoemowetochawcawewahcato

    No matter how hard I tried, I could never imagine such a thing. How is it possible, I don't understand

  2. Barrak

    I consider, that you are mistaken. Write to me in PM.

  3. Izaan

    I'm sorry, but I can't help you. I know you will find the right solution. Do not despair.

  4. Zuluzshura

    It is absolutely useless.

  5. Ramsden

    I congratulate this very good idea just about

  6. Edvard

    It's pointless.



Write a message