Saturday, January 29, 2011
Crechale's, Comeback sauce, McDade's, and all in Jackson
I have not thought about Crechale's in quite a while until this morning--and it all came about through a circuitous route after reading about Hal and Mal's over on the Jackson music blog. FLE posts often about the doings at Hal and Mal's, so I decided to look them up, which led to Comeback sauce, so I had to look that up, which led to Crechale's, which led to more Comeback sauce and eventually all the way to McDade's Market (which I also found by accident, along with Katz Wine Cellar, on one of my Jackson jaunts after moving here). McDade's is selling the Thames Comeback sauce made in Oxford. Whew! I feel like I have been on a road trip and it is not even 10 AM yet.
My friend W and I still laugh about our experience at Crechale's--and though I tried to find them one night several years ago, I was not successful. I'm not sure if my memory of where it was located was in error, or if they had moved or were closed, but I did not have my trusty iPhone at the time, so could not look it up. Driving that street at night in Jackson was pretty well freaking out my friend, who was begging me to return to the Interstate and back towards our hotel.
Back in '02, W and I were on our way to Florida to see J for spring break and overnighted in Jackson after an entire day on the road. Not being familiar with the area, we just headed up the street and when he spotted Crechale's he said, "let's eat there!" Folks were sitting outside waiting, and in a small bar next door waiting, so he thought it must be good food. He was right.
We waited in the bar next door for a table, and we have laughed many times about meeting our best friends there. Grandad had consumed just a tad too much of whatever was in the on-the-rocks glass he refilled often, and just as equally shared a tad too much personal information with strangers at the next table. Grandma shared her life story of the injury that put her in the wheelchair and caused brain damage but how she had been healed from it. We weren't really sure what she meant, but thought it best just to say that was wonderful and not pursue it. Meanwhile, granddaughter was humiliated beyond belief and kept asking to leave and hiding her face in her hands. W's sympathies were with the granddaughter.
Finally, they called our table and we went into the restaurant. I am not that much of a fried shrimp fan, but we ordered it, and I had to tell the server and the gentleman at the register that it was the best I had ever eaten. Maybe it was, and maybe it was just that I was hungry and tired.
We stopped at a liquor store on the way back to the hotel to pick up a bottle of wine. Eying the bars on the windows, and the cashier behind bars, W said he'd wait in the car and go for help in case I did not come back out soon. He was always so helpful that way when we were traveling. Meanwhile, I saw nothing on the wine shelves that I had ever seen before in any wine store in any state in any city. Hmmm....but it was late, I was tired, we had to get up early the next morning to get on to Florida...let's try this one.
Suffice it to say, one should never buy wine in a package store in Mississippi where they have bars on the windows and you do not recognize any of the labels.