Walking (the Line) in Memphis

Smoky barbecue goodness wafting out of a small alley off Union Ave. between Second and Third streets can only mean one thing. It's time for a Rendezvous, arguably the most famous (and best) barbecue joint in Memphis. Our night started with a full order of pork ribs, cole slaw, chicken nachos and Heinekens and it only got better from there. By the way, the wait at Rendezvous is very, very long. We waited about an hour, but it was very much worth it.

Feeling sleepy from full bellies we were about to call it a night. Yes, we were sleepy and were considering passing out in our very comfortable beds at The Westin Memphis Beale Street. (Guests should ask for Joan, the concierge, who is a fountain of Memphis knowledge.) But first we wanted to see what all the fuss was on Beale Street. Oh my. The cop-guarded street is closed to cars and revelers are stopped on their way in for a quick ID check. That's right. We got carded to walk on a street. Why? No open container laws on Beale Street. I knew we were in for an adventure.

We donned the Beale Street badge - a giant cup of Bud Lite (there are beer carts all along the street and most giant beers cost $5). From there we walked up the block as the soulful sound of Blues poured out from every venue. If you're thinking Beale Street is just for tourists, think again. Packed with locals. And everyone wants to hear who is performing. To play on Beale Street is really to have made it.

We were lured to a small stage in a small pavilion. After watching the guitarists and sax player jam for a while one of the two guitarists motioned to me...to come up on stage. Now, I am not into being in front of people, but I thought 'what the hell' and headed up the steps. The guitarist handed me his instrument and I held it flat out in front me as he proceeded to pick and play it while it was in my hands. Probably one of the coolest things I have ever seen. Saskia and I waited around after the show to say hello to him. Turns out his name is Johnny Holiday (not his real name, but I promised I would keep his real identity a secret). Why Holiday? "Because I'm always on vacation," he told us. He is the unofficial mayor of Beale Street. Everywhere we went with him folks were calling out 'Hey Johnny! How you doing?' We felt like Memphis royalty to be in his company.

Slipping past cover charges (I was introduced as his wife) we made our way into Ground Zero, a club on Beale Street owned by Morgan Freeman. This was to be our hangout for most of the night, as Johnny was to play there at midnight. A voluptuous woman belted out the Blues on stage as we knocked back beer after beer (and maybe a shot or two of Jim Beam, after Saskia opted for that over tequila).

As the night got fuzzier and we all got friendlier it was revealed that Johnny actually held a role in the 2005 movie, Walk the Line. He plays Carl Perkins, if anyone is interested.

The night ended in haze of dancing, singing and some killer solos by Johnny. Memphis, you may have climbed your way into my Top 5 Places in the U.S.



Check out the videos of Johnny at Ground Zero

Waking Up with Daniel Boulud

A typical morning for me usually involves hauling my ass out of bed at the ungodly hour of 8 a.m., rushing through a less-than-satisfying breakfast of scrambled eggs (I throw a little hot sauce on there for excitement) and making my way to the office where I will hunker down in my cube for eight hours.

But yesterday was no typical morning. Instead I found myself sitting at Daniel Boulud's DB Bistro Moderne, dining on congee soup with egg emulsion, french toast with bacon and coconut sauce and a yam cake with mushrooms and gorgonzola and listening to his Frenchness talk about his upcoming projects in Singapore.

Now yes, I am a morning person. I get more done before noon than most and I am officially useless after 3 p.m. But this was an experience to wake up any morning narcoleptic. The breakfast was hosted by the Singapore Tourism Board, who was informing the media about Singapore's brand new culinary campaign called A Taste of Singapore.

This breakfast was the final New York event in a series of tastings that kicked off April 29 at New York's Double Crown. Over the next two years, Singapore will be rolling out a series of initiatives globally that will help position it as a culinary capital in Asia.

Where does Boulud fit in? For the past few years Singapore has been in the process of building a monstrous integrated resort, Marina Bay Sands (officially opening in June), which will forever change the skyline of Singapore. Boulud will be opening a Singapore location of DB Bistro Moderne in the resort complex. He will be joined by five other celebrity chefs who are also opening restaurants at the complex, including Mario Batali, Wolfgang Puck, Santi Santamaria, Guy Savoy and Tetsuya Wakuda.

For all you New Yorkers out there who can't take the trek to Singapore, I suggest you check out the LUCKYRICE Festival, which is an 11-day celebration of Asian food and culture that kicks off this spring. You will definitely be seeing me there.

Living the (Mediocre) Dream at Sundance

For those of you who have never been to Sundance Film Festival, you might have had the same picture that I had: Strolling into movie after movie, unlimited access to VIP parties, making out with celebs. Pretty much living like an A-lister.

So I donned my Ray-Bans and headed out to Park City, Utah....only to find out I was a little misguided.

Saturday: After Friday night's welcome (I used my womanly ways to get myself and three of my male companions into a Stoli vodka party - Dudes, if you're not on the list then always lead with a chick. Ladies, it helps to be slightly bitchy) I was ready to see movies. And here is where my fantasies of celebrity living came to a halt. Picture this: 200 people crammed like cattle into tiny waiting rooms for up to four hours per movie, hoping that enough people with advance tickets don't show up so that you can get in. Odds of that happening on opening weekend? Not very good. I spent a good eight hours in lines and the only movies I saw were the ones I played in my head to pass the time (I know every line of Wet Hot American Summer by heart). By the time 6 p.m. rolled around I hated the name Robert Redford and didn't feel like going out in his city.

Sunday: Trying to make the best of things I decided not to see movies until after the weekend. Instead, my group decided to go to Village at the Yard, a tent full of luxury-brand freebees. A day of drinking free vodka tonics and rummaging Sephora products? Yes, please!

Not so fast, Meagan...Being a newly employed member of society I don't have any business cards, and when attending an event designed strictly for media professionals proof is necessary. Basically no cards, no entry.

I had just about given up on Sundance when I decided that I was going to get in somewhere. Anywhere. I jumped on a line snaking out of Harryo's bar and lounge on Main Street. It was the line to get into the ESPN party for NFL playoffs and you had to be on the list. Now I couldn’t care less about football, but I HAD to get in. So I asked the guy in front of me if he was on the list and if I could be his plus one. And finally my luck had changed. I strolled in to Harryo's, pink wristband firmly secured, and grabbed myself a complimentary Bud Lite. Bud Lite never tasted so much like Champagne.

I spent the afternoon shmoozing (a great Sundance past time) and eyeing Terrell Owens and Aaron Rogers (apparently they are big deals…). As I headed out on my way to my condo I heard a man say, “Those are nice,” referring to my black tights. I smiled and said thank you and it took me all of half a second to realize who it was.

“Excuse me, are you Ian Ziering?” (Being a HUGE 90210 fan I knew immediately that this was Steve Sanders.)

“Yes, I am.”

Now I was at Sundance. I mean, don’t get me wrong. Ian Ziering is a C-lister, at best. But after two whole days of nothing but denials, he may as well have been Brad Pitt.

I spent the next hour wrapped up in a one-on-one conversation with Ian (we’re on a first-name basis). I taught him some writing tricks, he showed me an acting exercise. I briefly asked him about 90210. Tacky, but I had to ask. (By the way, those were the best 10 years of his life.)

And Monday? I saw two movies and a third on Tuesday.

So was it the red-carpet trip I envisioned? Not really. But I did get to see my movies, I hit up a few VIP parties, and as for making out with celebs? I never kiss and tell.