ART Burger Sushi Bar, Myrtle Beach, South Carolina
September 27, 2016
Oh my lord this is heaven.
We ordered appetizers off of the solid wood menu: mozzarella wontons
with sweet tomato jam and pita bread with hummus. How can I convey to y’all my excitement and
hunger in this moment? For that, I will have
to back up a bit.
This is the story of my vacation to Myrtle Beach, South
Carolina, and my trip to a restaurant called ART. But it is also the story of my first real
fast. Not to mention it’s a Good Ol’ Fashioned Poop
Story. (Sorry. At least it’s educational.) The story of the End of The Rainbow is in here,
too. Here goes:
My attorney and I had won a stay in tropical Myrtle Beach
and decided to coincide our vacation package with a little spiritual practice. We planned on fasting for the first 48 hours
of the trip in hopes of inducing a spiritual experience.
We drank water and I had a little coffee, but otherwise, we
refrained from consuming for two days.
It wasn’t too hard since we were in a new environment and had no
preexisting habits of eating in Myrtle Beach.
The first day I only felt hunger eating at me when we watched “Limitless”
on cable TV and the food commercials poked at my subconscious, but I acknowledged
the sensations and ignored them. By the
second afternoon, I was thinking about food a lot. My sense of smell seemed to be
amplified. I wasn’t exactly hungry; it
was more like I was desperate to repeat
my pattern of eating because I didn’t know what else to do. But I had endured, trying not to count the
hours. We looked online and found the perfect place to fill our tummies. ART Burger Sushi Bar sounded right up my
alley so we drove down to the boardwalk.
It was ten PM. By this time, my hunger
had evolved from a familiar feeling of desire into a thing - a mellow pain
throughout my abdomen and a burning in my belly like after a shot of whiskey or
apple cider vinegar. We parked and I was
so involved with gastronomic desire that I had a close call with a parking meter
on the way in.
The restaurant was cool and inviting. At first, I was unsure if the hostess worked
there or not. She, like the other
waitresses, wore a black dress with a black purse for money and receipts. It’s hard to say what we seemed like to her; I
was excited, nervous, crazed. It was
Christmas. It was Hanukah. It was the Day of Jubilee. I looked at the menu. It was in the shape of a painter’s palette. All the burgers (and there were a lot) were
named after artists. It felt like it was
the menu I would have come up with if I had the time and a good reason. Maybe it’s the same menu we’d all come up with. But,
then, what about all those other restaurants out there?
I already described the first course. It was scrumptious and imaginative and
fresh. There ended up being more hummus
than pita and I ended up eating the rest with a fork. I was thinking that this could be my favorite
restaurant of all time.
They had what
they called a liquid nitrogen bar, which I thought was an oxygen bar and was
very interested but it turned out to be drinks with dry ice on top. The place was founded on the belief
in the power of art therapy, the owner’s mother having recovered from a stroke
by painting pictures. There were
paintings of dogs and horses and children on the wall. Believe it or not, the music was country, but
we were still in South Carolina.
I ordered the Art Burger. Look at these photos. Drool over these photos. Seriously.
On my burger, in my burger, in my mouth, the walnut chutney, reminiscent
of cinnamon buns and home, mixed with the raw untouched red onion in a
delicious dance all over a blue cheese burger with bacon. I felt that this was It. The Pinnacle. The Top.
And that moment wouldn’t be topped for another two
days. But not before a downswing of the
pleasure pendulum. A downswing in the
tastefulness of this story as well.
Trigger warning: poop is about to
happen. Gross, liquid poop.
Let me just say that I’m not a connoisseur of poop stories
myself, but I know a few. This story is
dedicated to them. I must say, however,
that one fun and empowering activity is to picture someone who is really posh
or stuck-up. Then think that they
poop. Everybody poops. I mean, like I said, it’s more funny to some
than to others. Another fun activity
with that kind of person is to ask them if they work there when you’re in a
store. Haha. Okay, I’ve been putting it off long
enough. Here’s what happened.
I hadn’t pooped all that day so I knew all the food was out
of my system. What was to come next was
recent. After leaving ART, we were back
at the hotel in ten minutes. I hustled
to the bathroom. Oh boy. It felt like I was pooping but it sure
sounded like I was peeing. This stuff
looked and smelled like dirty water with a few pebbles. Holy shit . . .
My attorney had failed to mention that after a fast it is
best to ease back into eating slowly, carefully. Not with wontons, pita, wine, a burger and
sweet potato fries. He said I wouldn’t
have listened anyway. He was probably
right. Now I know. Now you know.
This next part is unrelated to the restaurant but possibly
related to the fast and certainly a part of the trip. It happened on the drive home. We had swam clothed in the ocean at night
which was wonderful, but hadn’t really had anything paranormal happen during or
because of the fast. While we were in
Myrtle Beach, the sun shone. The day we
left, and the drive back up, it poured, tropical storm style. I drove in the rain while we listened to
Siddhartha on tape. Siddhartha asked
himself this question through the car speakers, “When was there ever a time
when he had experienced happiness, felt a true bliss? Oh yes, several times he had experienced such
a thing.” At this, I let out a jaded
chuckle. My attorney asked me what I
thought was so funny. I shared with him
that in my experience, there are only a few real, blissful, miraculous moments
in life, and the rest is spent merely waiting for those precious times. How sad.
Anyway, an hour or so later, guess what, you’ll never guess! We found the end of the rainbow! It was travelling with us on the road, off and on, for
hours. We got a little of it in videos but we just enjoyed most of it. That was It. That was the Pinnacle of the Trip. It was one of the Moments of Bliss. One of the miracles. Beautiful.
Beautiful.
When the rainbow's end wasn't running alongside us, we drove under the mega-hoop. Here is a picture of it with a little finger for good measure.
Gotta say, it was a good trip.
Amanda out!
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