-[Eat,See]- Burgers and Lost Souls at Earnestine & Hazel’s, Memphis
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vRWCwWdetEg
While on a short trip to Memphis for some quick NBA action a few years back, we wandered into Earnestine and Hazel’s Juke Joint totally by accident. Our night to take in all things Memphis culture was properly disrupted due to torrential downpour, and being a stones throw away from Beale Street, we ended up on the corner of Main & GE Patterson where Earnestine & Hazel’s proudly shines its Soul Burger neon display in the window. Cheap brews at a bar with it’s own burger griddle? You really can’t ask for more during a rain out like this.
Upon entry, you’re immediately welcomed by the sound of their jukebox and the aura that this building has stood the test of time. A young couple were intently leafing through the music catalog as we walked in, and based on the quick glimpse I was able to gather that the collection heavily consisted of classic Hi and Stax singles. The low lighting and spread of tables gives you that incredible sense of ownership that only the best dive bars can give you. You can make this bar your own for a few hours, if you felt so inclined.
We took our seats at the center of the bar, where the lone bartender-slash-grill-man stood waiting. After exchanging pleasantries, we put in two orders for a forgettable brand of beer and the alluring Soul Burger. The burger ditches the long list of fancy condiments and simply showcases purist craftsmanship. For a few bucks, you afford yourself a Worcestershire soaked beef bomb topped with melty cheese, chopped sauteed onions seasoned with pepper, crinkle cut pickles, and a bag of plain ol’ potato chips.The ingredients just pair so well together, and it hits all the checkmarks your body craves after a long night of drinking.
Once finished with our burger and reveling in the immediate satisfaction, I noticed a hand painted sign at the end of a long hallway from the corner of my eye: “No Dope Smoken No Cursin No Fee Loden E.H”. The bartender notices, he then smiles revealing a gold capped tooth, and asked if I heard of their upstairs space. Apparently, in one of it’s earlier iterations, this bar was one time a brothel that serviced the Delta folk or stragglers floating through the historic Central Station found directly across the street from the building. We were given carte blanche to walk up the rickety stair case and survey the area for ourselves. The second floor is anchored down by a long hallway, with different doorways that lead to small den areas. The rooms themselves were left in the original design, piping and all, and the walls were littered with divets and markings. The walls definitely talk. You can visualize the dice games gone awry, the unsavory types looking for vice. The cluster of rooms behind the stairwell will have to be seen on a future trip, though, since I got the sneaking suspicion that we may have not been alone on our tour and hightailed it outta there. Besides, I hadn’t had a plate o’ ribs yet, anyway.