We left the cabin through the normal route, down the hill and taking the right turn to head back to civilization. I’ve made that right turn 10 times before, once per year, each time leaving for the long drive home. Past the pancake parlors, the dinner shows, the souvenir shops, the long trip through the sad background of southern vacation town in winter, in a place lovingly referred to as Vegas for Baptists. A place that you drove through, not a place I’ve ever stopped, except for a brief visit to the World’s Largest Knife Store up by the highway. But today was different. It was afternoon, it was Saturday, we weren’t departing on a 980 mile road trip. We were just going to lunch, but in many ways we were going on a bigger adventure, a step outside the comfort zone, a step into a new world, an excursion to the world outside our bubbles, we were going to Flavortown.
I read the 2012 Pete Wells hit piece of Guy Fieri’s Flavortown in Times Square, and was appalled. Not because the place itself sounded horrible, in fact it sounded like a fun time for affordable food in a city that thinks too highly of itself. I was put off by the snarky elitism and pretentiousness of someone who feels like he has to carry the responsibility of being a taste maker for every asshole who thinks that the empire state ends north of the Tappan Zee. I may have had my foodie moments, but I never wanted to look down my nose at those who don’t chase the same experiences. Mostly because deep down I know that I am still the same kid who grew up in the town of 5,000 people thinking that putting barbecue chicken on a pizza was an upscale touch worthy of the Bib Gourmand. I read that piece and thought that some day if I had the chance I would head to Flavortown and try it myself. Luckily due to some insomnia googling I found that just a few miles away from our annual winter retreat to Gatlinburg Guy Fieri had opened a Downtown Flavortown outpost in Pigeon Forge, and I vowed that this was the year to make the pilgrimage.
The planning process was far more in depth than most people would guess. I not only wanted to go to Flavortown, I wanted to experience Flavortown, and I knew that I wouldn’t be able to do that alone. Convincing a group of people who are very set in their ways to stay sober-ish long enough to leave the cabin and have a new experience was going to be a chore. I started by posting a few hints in the Facebook group, reaching out through some group chats to spark interest, and even buying a shirt with flames on it, because why not dress for your dream. I made an impact with my persistence, Gatlinburg bingo even had a space on it for “Flavortown Underwhelms” because my friends are just as much of stubborn assholes as I am. The difference is that nothing was going to stand in my way of the pursuit of Donkey Sauce. In the end I put on my special shirt, gathered 3 people, put on an appropriate playlist, and set out on an adventure.
My companions on the journey included one of my closest friends, Erin aka “Sour Lou”, who left her husband behind at the cabin to join in on an adventure the likes of which we used to go on regularly when we were younger and less exhausted. Enthusiastically we were joined by Sean aka “Bugs”, often the voice of reason among our group. He channeled his years of Crossfit coaching to put his support behind me, since he is used to pushing people to accomplish feats that their mind and body tell them that they should not be able to do. Bugs may or may not have been convinced because of the presence of a bowling alley, and before his time in the Crossfit cult he was a professional bowler. The third member of our party on this side quest was Natalie aka “Natalie”, she is Bugs’ girlfriend and while I don’t know her that well yet I really appreciated her upbeat demeanor and fun stories, she was a clutch addition to the party as we set out on our side quest.
My first thought upon rolling up to the strip mall that contained Flavortown was “WOW” since even in a landscape of cheap expansion it was an immense space, 43,000 square foot of food and fun. You walk in to a huge arcade, a tiki bar, a gift shop, and of course a huge restaurant. Since 3 of us are on pharmacist feeding schedules we of course waited until 2pm to get lunch and the place was cavernously empty. The guy at the front desk told us that it would be 10 minutes to get seated, but that seemed more likely to do with getting a server back from a smoke break than finding a spot for a 4 top. But time doesn’t matter when you are in Flavortown, we headed straight for the machines to load up our arcade cards, I also scouted it out, and apparently I was the only person there who decided to wear a shirt with flames on it. Shortly after we were escorted to our table and introduced to our waitress. I try not to judge books by their covers, but one look at our waitress and you could tell that she had lived a hard life. She didn’t smile, she didn’t joke, she spilled water all over the next table and didn’t even acknowledge that it happened, the chore of checking our IDs when we wanted a drink almost pushed her over the edge. She was a hard woman, who crawled her ways out of the hard hills of Eastern Tennessee and was scratching a living out of a job that advertised the starting pay for servers as $2.65 per hour. She was perfect just the way that she is.
We didn’t come to Flavortown for the food. I mean we did need food, but we left the cabin just as Chef Lloyd was starting prep on dinner, a full prime rib, risotto, roasted asparagus, and special marinated portabellos for me, we weren’t expecting gourmet. As a vegetarian I am used to being limited at restaurants, but Flavortown was over the top, even the salads had meat in them. I had to settle for Morgan’s Veggie Burger, the only vegetarian item on the menu, which I assume is saved for apathetic teenage daughters and the odd Hindu who gets lost in Pigeon Forge. I am not generally a fan of veggie burgers because they always come off as bland with an unpleasant texture, but this was an exception. It was so unseasoned it doesn’t even classify as bland, and the two inch thick patty dissolved into mush after you unhinge your jaw to take the first bite. There was supposed to be an abundance of Donkey Sauce and crispy onion straws, but all I got was mush that tasted like beans. The fries were very good though, crispy, hearty, well done just the way I like them. So far the “Flavortown Underwhelms” square was looking promising.
But our visit wasn’t over yet, I’m a sucker for a good arcade game, and this Dave and Busters knock off had the marking of a good arcade. There was a lot of variety from shoot em ups to basketball type games, lots of different ways to earn tickets that can be cashed in to get all sorts of fantastical prizes. They even had an axe throwing game, next time you’re in Pigeon Forge I advise you to stop in and see if OFO is still the high score. After a half an hour of testing my meddle in games of chance and skill I settled in next to Erin at one of those games where they push the coins toward the edges. Just two people who have known each other for decades laughing and joking while feeding tokens into a machine like two little old ladies at the slot machines, it was as close to perfect as anyone could ask for on a Saturday afternoon. Once we blew through our token budged we gathered our thousands of credits and headed to exchange them for something nice at the prize shop.
I know that inflation is bad, but seriously, over 500,000 credits for a nerf gun, that is highway robbery. Erin was able to get a squishball for her daughter, Bugs and Natalie pooled their credits to get some candy, and I was left with a choice between a slingshot and two plastic ninja swords. I opted for the slingshot even though in retrospect the ninja swords would have been more entertaining. All the left over credits were piled onto a card and Erin handed them off to a girl of around 6 who was making eyes at one of the squishmellows on the wall, I hope that she get enough credits. After having a few nice words with the kid working the prize counter we headed back out into the sunlight where we would deal with the demand that we return to the cabin with domestic light beer and solo cups. Along the way we face timed with Erin’s 4 year old daughter who just learned the word “Dude” which made me smile.
We returned to the cabin and the group of people with bingo cards caught me at the door. They didn’t care about the substance of my excursion, they didn’t want to know about the experience, they just wanted to know if Flavortown had Underwhelmed. The thing is that like most of my life I went in with very low expectations, nothing I have ever hyped up has lived up to it’s billing, but some of the best experiences of my life I never saw coming. Was the food good, no. Was the service good, also no. Were the games mind blowing, no but they were an enjoyable distraction. Did I get fantastic prizes, nope. Did I have a good time, sure. It was just as expected, Flavortown was Whelming, I was appropriately whelmed. Fuck your bingo cards, lets have some risotto and domestic light beer.
At least that was the story that I told that weekend. The truth is that there was one moment that really stood out for me. As we were leaving the kid at the prize counter gestured to my shirt and asked if I like Guy Fieri. He was a big kid, about 20 years old with a scruffy beard and the look that he probably didn’t want to be spending his Saturday doing out prizes to vacationing children. He was very soft spoken and clearly had to work up the courage to ask me the question. I told him that of course I was, as he could see by my garish shirt. He asked if I wanted to see something, and furtively looked around for a manager so he didn’t get in trouble for pulling out his phone. But right there on his lock screen was a picture of him and the Mayor of Flavortown himself. He said that Guy shows up occasionally and works from opening to 1am without stopping, but that every time he shows up he makes sure to take pictures with all the staff members and takes the time to thank them for what they do, and that he is a super nice person. This kid lit up and for a few moments felt a pride and excitement about his job that most of us can only dream of, it was the best moment of the day.
I had approached this adventure with a fair amount of snark. I always planned on writing something like this, and cataloging this with all my other adventures as another interesting story that I can pull out when I need it. I hoped to be a better judge than Pete Wells, and not to punch down on people and societies that I didn’t fully understand, but I fully intended to treat this thing like a joke. Instead I was able to walk away from the experience with a fun story, an afternoon with some of my closest friends, and a heartwarming interaction with a stranger. Overall I would say that my trip to Flavortown was a success, but I’m still never going back.
Owen Foley 