Death of Uncle Mort's Confirmed

This from a reliable source who shall remain nameless: "So Uncle Mort sold his restaurant to this guy, who made an agreement when buying Uncle Mort's that he would not tear down the restaurant building. (Because its kinda like a landmark in the area) Well, Uncle Mort lives right up on the hill by the restaurant, he went on vacation, came home, and Uncle Mort's was gone! It had burnt down. The dude that bought Uncle Mort's claimed it was an accident. Now he is going to build a Bingo building there on the property. Poor Uncle Mort."

R.I.P., Uncle Mort's.

NEWS FLASH! Uncle Mort's Reported Dead.

Edna Earl has just received, via a frantic text message, that Jasper, Alabama's Uncle Mort's, one of her very favorite eating establishments (see previous post), is no more. Edna Earl is awaiting confirmation at this time. It is true that on her last trip out that way she noticed a sign advertising Uncle Mort's for sale, and it is true that the new highway has completely bypassed Uncle Mort's, but due to the possible confusion caused by the bypass, EE is nervously awaiting confirmation that Uncle Mort's has indeed died. If this disturbing news is true, there's an obituary to write. Stay tuned.

Sprayberry's Barbeque, Newnan, Georgia **

Nope. Never again. Edna Earl muses that if you’re going for a barbeque pork sandwich and an order of fries, you’ll be okay – but you won’t be excited – and you certainly shouldn’t expect anything much beyond the sandwich and fries. EE herself ordered the “barbeque chicken plate” which consisted of two boneless, mealy, rubber-chicken breasts grilled (She guessed.) and slathered with this barbeque sauce that just really did not go with chicken. It’s that dark, watery stuff that, EE thinks, was their attempt at North Carolina barbeque sauce. At any rate, it didn’t work – particularly with chicken. One of EE's sides was a “green salad” which consisted of the shredded inner (white) part of iceberg lettuce, with a FEW pieces of diced tomato and her choice of the cheapest of packaged dressings. The other of her sides was a baked potato, which came with one of those packets of sour cream and several packages of “butter.” (EE hates it when she has to open all sorts of packages at the table.) Those were the only sides offered, except that EE was offered a choice between French fries and a baked potato. Oh, and there was a “roll” which was the vilest kind of pre-cooked, packaged thing. EE left it alone, though she did pick it up and examine it. All in all, Edna Earl's meal would have been inedible had she not been so hungry. (It was 2:00 PM and she and her party hadn’t had lunch.)

Edna Earl's ol’ man ordered a barbeque sandwich (pork, of course; that’s what barbeque means down here) and onion rings, which Sprayberry’s touts. Well, he said that the barbeque sandwich was “okay,” that the sauce was “weird,” and he didn’t even comment on the onion rings, which he tasted but left uneaten. EE also tasted and found them to be a veritable exercise in grease retention.

One of EE's complaints with Sprayberry’s is that their menu offerings were just so slim. She simply could not help but compare them to Country’s in Columbus, Georgia, and to other barbeque joints where you can get all sorts of items other than barbeque. Of course, EE is all for those places where barbeque is the lone offering – IF the barbeque is damn good – and Sprayberry’s is definitely not.

And, oh yeah, the place is overpriced big time. Edna Earl's "barbeque chicken plate" of two boneless breasts with a medium baked potato and some dead lettuce and a vile roll was $10.95! The bill for Edna and her ol' man came to $22.43, plus tip -- way too much for a barbeque joint lunch -- especially when it's as lame as this was.

The physical space is alright, though not inspired, and the waitress was nice. (Reasons for the second star.)

Edna Earl's sage advice to Sprayberry’s: Come on down to Columbus and Phenix City to see what a REAL barbeque joint can be.