A few years back, when the Food Channel first came out, Alton Brown made my A list by sponsoring a show called Feasting on Asphalt. On it he and some friends rode their BMW's on selected historical back roads looking for diverse foods. A great premise that I wish I had financing for, as he started off great, but I lost interest quickly. He tended to show some strange places, eat some bizarre foods that were from some unusual body parts, and of course not enough asphalt-as the case usually is. But he had me hooked on ideas for rides, and his one trip up Hiway 61 through Louisiana, Arkansas, Missouri, Illinois, and Minnesota gave us an idea for one trip.
Avoiding Louisiana-New Orleans in particular, we did 61 into Mississippi. Sadly like so many state or US hiways, they have been turned into interstate types, by-passing the old road, and have none of the local places to eat adjacent. So we stayed on the old sections, like Alton did, and our first place was in Clarksdale, Birthplace of the Blues, and ate at Abe's, there since 1924. Pulled pork is the way to go in the south, and inside the place reeked-a good reeking. And the pulled pork, with cole slaw on top, was great. Good food, good road, and good music-under the crossed guitars at the crossroads, the inspiration for Clapton's Crossroads song. As we went on north, we avoided some of his lesser choices, and once past St. Louis, our goal for lunch was at Maid Rite Sandwiches in Quincy, Illinois.
Now I have a particular dislike for Quincy, in 1985 on a ride, I was ticketed for 60 in a 55 zone, by the local constable, who bragged to me that this was his first patrol in their new cruiser, and I was the first to be ticketed by it. Despite my plea of I rather be the first one warned, he wrote me a ticket. Just him, me, the car, and corn so high you thought you were driving in a maze. A true public revenue enhancer, let's call him Matthew. Thanks, Matt. Coming into Quincy from the south is interesting, as it is on the Mississippi, and there are huge caves. I mean big, like airplane hangar size, used as warehouses, some with 30 foot high openings. And they go on for miles-interesting, but we were hungry, and we had a destination ahead.
Now part of knowing where you are going, is knowing where you are going. And I couldn't remember the name Maid Rite. I kept calling it Merry Maids, and Theresa would grimace-no connection to Mickey D's. So we drove through the downtown, and out of town a few times, with no success. Hungry and desperate, we stopped at a convenience store outside of town, and asked the women outside smoking where Merry Maids was? "You need your house cleaned?" NO-I'm hungry. And they thought we were funny, talking with them through our full face helmets, and not knowing the name of the place we wanted to eat at. Suddenly the one with more teeth said, "Oh, he means, Maid Rite. You passed it coming into town." Actually this would be my fourth trip by it. And as we left, they laughed their toothless grins, I got hit in the ribs, and the Maid Rite saga continued.
Since the thirties Maid Rite sandwiches have been a hit in the Midwest. Think of them as a Sloppy Joe, with no sloppy. Seasoned meat, on a bun, add fries, and a Pepsi, no Coke-can't get more American than that. Waitresses still patrol the dining area in white uniforms, some may have been the original employees, no tipping, and they will bring you more as you require. I ate two deluxe, which were good-and enough to satisfy my Quincy intake for decades to come. And Alton-he finally crashed, got hurt pretty bad, and cancelled the show. Just as it was hitting its stride. Leaving a void for us hungry asphalt feasters that still exists today.
Peter once was shown a vision by God of a picnic-where he was told he could eat all kinds of food under grace. My kind of vision. Now to a man who never had pulled pork, a bacon cheeseburger, or a Nathan's hot dog, this must have been blasphemy at first. But when God showed him how nothing is unclean unless He says it is, Peter upset the Pharisees by eating things not Kosher. And it opened up a whole new side of God to Him-no laws. Replaced with grace. And mercy-much better than sneaking a hot dog at a side window. The sin of eating non-Kosher foods was replaced by grace. And just like grace in our lives, it gives us freedom to live in Christ as He wants us to. Free from the food police. Another department of the Pharisees.
No more fussing about was it prepared Kosher. Was the dead animal prepared properly. Was the meal "made right?" Even when it comes to food, grace is better than the law. A tough sell for Peter, but freedom with his new menu choices, and getting to see Jesus in a whole new light. The same Jesus who came to set us free-and fulfill all the laws. One meal at a time in Peter's case. He now found he could trust God, be guided by the Spirit, and avoid the Pharisees altogether.
Are you feasting on everything that God has to offer? If you are stuck on religion, try the freedom in the Spirit. Enjoy God's mercy, and live a life of freedom in His grace. And show love where before you were consumed with laws. Letting your only law be to show love. And show it whether riding or eating-no matter what you feast on.
Sadly Alton never returned to the asphalt. So I hear there is a vacancy in the road food area on TV. I know this couple who would love to fill it. Now if I could only find that certain one who would back me! My first ride would be back to the Crossroads in Clarksdale. But my first stop on every ride is at the Cross-the only road I ever wish to travel. For without the cross you are just on another road to nowhere-but at the Cross you find direction, and directions. Which it never hurts to have when looking for a place to eat. Oh, remembering its name helps too!
Made right by Jesus! How could I ever forget a name like that?
love with compassion,
Mike
matthew25biker.blogspot.com