Written by Michael Claxton
For longtime Searcy residents, watching the rise and fall of new restaurants in town is something of a hobby. Because eateries seem to come and go so often around here, locals have sometimes been known to set up lawn chairs outside a new establishment and then sit there with a stopwatch, taking bets on how many hours it will take for the place to shut down. The record, I think, was a hot dog joint that folded within two days. Of course, if you have to go out to eat to get a hot dog, you really should take a Continuing Education course in how to boil water and squeeze mustard. But I digress.
There’s a building on Beebe Capps that is the Bermuda Triangle of White County food service. At last count, more than 600 restaurants have opened and closed in that location, including Italian, Mexican, barbecue, seafood and other exotic cuisines. I cross my fingers for the present occupant, the Whistle Stop, which was still open at the time of writing. It’s a fine place to eat.
Honorable mention must go to a short-lived country kitchen on Race Street that was once a McDonald’s and is now a wings joint. One of my colleagues and I just happened to catch this dive — name withheld for fear of a lawsuit — during the four days that it was open. Afterwards my friend coined the term “cornbricks” for the unbreakable square of bread that accompanied the main course. This, incidentally, is the same wordsmith who also came up with the phrase “cheese tsunami” to describe the wreckage left behind when a large party left its table near us at Mazzio’s once last spring.
I am also happy to report that the rumors of the closing of Georgetown’s catfish restaurant were greatly exaggerated. While it did close its pearly gates for a short while, the catfish, hush puppies and fries are flowing once again. When I heard that the One Stop had closed, I briefly considered putting my condo up for sale. If you wish to know why, see my Bison column from Oct. 13, 2006. Or better yet, call 501-742-3781 and ask Jo Ann to reserve a table for the best fried catfish west, or east, of the Mississippi.
I can’t wrap up this survey without mentioning Larry’s Pizza on Race Street, which opened two years ago. If you are like me and your hobbies include gorging, overindulging and staggering out of restaurants in search of a place to lie down, this is the destination for you. Located in the former home of Pizza Inn, Larry’s takes pride in its famous Pizza Parade. By comparison, the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade is a cakewalk.
I’ve often wondered what it must have been like for ancient emperors to recline on sofas, let themselves be fanned by servants and order waiters to keep the food coming. Having visited Larry’s several times, now I know. You see, Larry’s is no average buffet. Servers bring a continuous pizzacopia to every table, asking about once every two minutes if diners are ready for a slice of pepperoni, honey mustard or pineapple ham. All that bothersome exercise getting up and walking to the buffet has been completely eliminated. Of course, so has any hope that you can walk off the six or seven pounds of cheese and crust consumed during the average dinner.
First-time visitors to Larry’s are sometimes unsure of the etiquette. How much should I eat? How do I pace myself? Can I order a specialized pizza? My advice is simply to ask yourself this question: “If Jabba the Hutt were here, how would he act?”
It may seem as if I am advocating gluttony, which is a bad thing if you don’t want to buy a new pair of jeans after each visit. Speaking from personal experience, I do not recommend any competitive eating games, which I have officially given up after getting my cholesterol report this morning. I should point out that you can get a salad at Larry’s. You can also get chocolate pizza, apple-turnover pizza, cherry pie pizza and peanut butter pizza. And if your kids would prefer to eat at McDonald’s, you can order them a cheeseburger pizza and a potato pizza, which is basically a Happy Meal on crust. If you ask politely, the chef might even make your son a chicken nugget pizza, though I warn against such a thing. The double-whammy might just cause little boys to fall over in ecstasy. The adults, coasting on a pizza buzz par excellence, won’t be far behind.
