One of the reasons we decided to drive to Florida this year was to create a reason to go to Nashville. While I don’t necessarily envision Nashville as a final destination, stopping over for the night was something I was really looking forward to. Provided you don’t stay at the Ramada by the airport, it’s a really good time… but that’s another story.
Crema is a totally rad coffee shop a little off the beaten path from the big flashy bars and touristy country music stores. I’ll always love my Starbucks, but this place is special. We met up with a friend who swears by their Cuban coffee. Since she’s marrying a Cuban guy you can be sure she’s a reliable source. A had the cortado, which is essentially a really, really strong latte. I wish I hadn’t eaten a crappy waffle at the Ramada, because I would have loved to try the house-made quiche, or a breakfast “cremarito”. On a chilly Sunday morning it was easy to find a cozy corner to chat or read a book, but from what I hear the place can get packed pretty easily. People don’t mind the wait, and after trying Crema once, I wouldn’t mind it either.
Crema is located at 15 Hermitage Ave. in Nashville, TN. Store hours are MON – FRI 7AM – 7PM // SAT 8AM – 6PM // SUN 9AM – 4PM. Follow them on twitter @cremacrema
I’ve spent about 5 years living in the Edgewater neighborhood (split between two tours), and I’m starting to think that this is the place I belong.
Love it or leave it, Edgewater is as strange as I am, which might be why we get along so well.
Unpretentious and often bizarre, “the edge”, as our silly lamp post neighborhood banners say, is the sort of neighborhood where you can eat really fancy, really expensive ice cream on one block, and get shot on the next. Yeah. We live on “the edge”.
All I know, is that this past Sunday was kind of a pivotal moment for me. The GF and I have been scouting this tiny diner two blocks from our house for the past several months. You know the type… the decor hasn’t been updated since 1963, and you’re pretty sure the food is going to be the best thing ever or the worst thing ever.
Sunday was the day we finally bit the bullet and went to Alexander’s for breakfast. I’ve never seen waitresses that good. My omelette was the size of my ass. The coffee was free-flowing. You get half a banana as a garnish, and homemade salsa on the side. Alexander’s was everything I hoped it could be, but I’m a little afraid to admit it lest you start going there too. I want Alexander’s to be my little secret. A place where we can walk to on a Sunday and always get a table, and always have fantastic service. Please don’t change, Alexander’s. You haven’t changed since 1963, so there’s no reason to start now…
… and then on the way home we came across a $27 Subaru.
Yeah. That’s my ‘hood. We are a match made in heaven.