Three Perfect Days: A Trip to Nashville

Daylight peeks in through the curtains of my room on the 19th floor of The Joseph. I take in the view of downtown Nashville, where the Cumberland River cuts through silver skyscrapers. I'm excited to explore. But first: coffee.

In the lobby lounge, I grab a Shakerato. The hotel’s signature citrusy caffeine jolt is made with lemon-infused espresso and simple syrup. With that, it's time to head out into the sunshine. This neighborhood is called SoBro, for South of Broadway. It's a nickname that’s a punching bag for some residents, who worry the city is losing its true soul. It’s here that Nashville’s rapid growth is most obvious, from multiple new hotels to the beautiful Schermerhorn Symphony Center. The architecture is a mix of old and new. The bright lights of the honky-tonks shine on the buildings towering over the old brick warehouses from the early 1900s.

Ten minutes later, I reach Pinewood Social, an old garage from 1938, in the Rolling Mill Hill area next to SoBro. There are two small pools, an old-fashioned bowling alley, and a café that serves single-origin coffees and avocado toast. I eat a ham and cheese croissant before I pick up an electric Bird scooter and head up Rep. John Lewis Way to Broadway.

As I park my scooter by Tootsie’s Orchid Lounge, I hear Garth Brook’s “Friends in Low Places,” playing inside. Tootsie’s, one of the first places for songwriters in the city, has grown with the city's development. I even saw one in the airport.

One place that could never be duplicated is the Ryman Auditorium, just a block away. The tour starts with a great intro video led by a hologram of Lula C. Naff, the Ryman’s former manager. In the 1930s and ’40s, Naff turned this old Gothic tabernacle into a center for country music. It had hosted boxing matches, political debates, and talks by Booker T. Washington and Helen Keller too. It welcomed the Grand Ole Opry as a resident show in 1943. I walk through the auditorium, which was saved from demolition in the 1970s, between rows of pews that curve down to an amber stage. This is where Elvis upset the audience for hip-thrusting in a church and June Carter first met Johnny Cash. I sneak a glance at Cash’s former dressing room while a kind old security guard holds the door open for me.

“What’s your favorite memory of the job?” I ask.

His mustache curls up. “Tanya Tucker once flirted with me,” he says.

From here, I’m off to the Frist Art Museum. Built in 1934 as a post office, this building is striking with its mix of classic and Art Deco styles, just like the art inside. The Frist has no permanent collection. Instead, it rotates exhibitions from other museums and private collections, including a Picasso show from Paris and Aboriginal art from Australia. Today, I’m moved by the works in a Kara Walker solo exhibit called Cut to the Quick.

All my walking around downtown is making me hungry, so it's time to refuel. Blanco Cocina + Cantina is just half a mile away. My friends have told me to try the braised short rib. Inside a bright, modern space filled with plants, the famous short rib is offered in several dishes. I choose the tacos, which come with caramelized peppers and onions, cotija cheese, and sour cream. I’m not driving, so I have a cocktail too. The Paloma Rosa is a refreshing combination of sparkling grapefruit and tequila, with a special salt rim.

I cross the green lawns of Centennial Park to explore the Parthenon. A full-scale replica of the original in Greece, complete with a 42-foot-tall golden Athena statue inside. Built for the 1897 Tennessee Centennial Exposition, the structure give Nashville its nickname—the Athens of the South. I admire stone columns, traverse galleries of ancient European artifacts and visit a vibrant photography exhibition, The Looking Glass, by Lynn Goldsmith. Like the Ryman, the Parthenon was almost torn down but was saved by determined citizens.

Whenever I visit a city, I enjoy seeing it from a rooftop bar with a view. Zeppelin opened in 2022 on top of the TownPlace Suites by Marriott. It has big windows and cream-colored furniture turned pink by the setting sun. The 270-degree view is amazing, and the only thing I focus on is my cool gimlet with gin, black lime cordial, chartreuse, and lime.

It’s an easy cab to dinner at The Continental, opened in 2022 by chef Sean Brock, who has too many James Beard recognitions to count on one hand. He previously caught Nashville’s attention at the Capitol Grille in The Hermitage Hotel. Then he wowed Charleston, South Carolina, with Husk. Brock left Husk to come back to Music City, and The Continental is the result of his years studying 19th-century cookbooks. His dream was to combine old-fashioned service with lively French Nouvelle style. Sitting on a velvet bench, I look around the room. It feels like a mix of dining on the Titanic and a glamorous party scene from Mad Men.

The Cure is playing on the stereo, and waiters bring food carts to each table. I start with a raw oyster topped with caviar, then prime rib, sliced as thick as I want it for $5 an ounce. There’s plenty of flavorful au jus underneath my serving, so tender I could cut it with a spoon.

I walk down Broadway, also known as "Nashvegas," to admire the bright neon lights. Then I take the Graduate hotel’s elevator to the Dolly Parton–themed rooftop bar White Limozeen. Twenty-somethings flirt beneath Barbie-pink umbrellas by the swimming pool and take photos in front of a giant statue of Parton’s head. One Champagne Jell-O shot later, I head downstairs to Cross-Eyed Critters, the world’s first animatronic karaoke bar. It’s like an adults-only Chuck E. Cheese, where robotic animals act as a backup band for your song of choice. Do I have the bravery to take the stage? All I can say is what happens in Nashvegas, stays in Nashvegas.

I arrive to D’Andrews Bakery & Café. Inside the bright, minimalist space, the smell of grilled sausage mixes with sweet caramel. I quickly eat a vanilla-cream brioche and a chicken-sausage sandwich with a delicious roasted-tomato mayo.

Next, I’m off to the National Museum of African American Music. It's a 56,000-square-foot interactive institution that opened downtown in 2021 after nearly two decades of planning. I meet up with Tuwisha Rogers-Simpson, VP of brand and partnerships at the museum, for a tour.

“Our galleries can educate chronologically,” she tells me, “But it’s music. Allow yourself to be pulled by what interests you.”

We begin at Wade in the Water, an exhibit about the impact of religion and slavery on music, where we join a virtual gospel choir. Then we trek to New Orleans for A Love Supreme, which is dedicated to Congo Square and jazz. “Love Supreme is my favorite,” Rogers-Simpson says, pointing out Ella Fitzgerald’s Grammy and tiny coat.

Throughout the museum, I stop at listening stations to scan my wristband, and the tracks I love are emailed to me. The last gallery proves the most emotional for me. I’ve watched Prince’s 2007 Super Bowl performance more than 20 times, but now I can see it from fresh angles on floor-to-ceiling 3D screens. Raindrops pour down his face and guitar; hearing him sing “Purple Rain” gives me goosebumps. Rogers-Simpson wipes away a tear. “I see that six times a day, and it never fails to get me,” she says, laughing.

As I leave, I can’t help but think about how much music means to me. Nowadays, I cherish my Ella Fitzgerald vinyl, but as a kid in the ’80s and ’90s it was all about my Guns N’ Roses and Mötley Crüe cassettes. I get excited as I enter the Gibson Garage. More than 200 gorgeous, shiny guitars, ink black to cherry red, Les Paul to Flying V, hang above on a ceiling carousel system. This flagship store, museum, and showroom opened in historic Cummins Station in 2022, when Gibson moved its world headquarters to Nashville. I could buy a guitar off the shelf, custom-build my own Les Paul in the Murphy Lab, or take an augmented reality lesson. Instead, I spend my time staring at an exact replica of Slash’s 1966 EDS-1275 Doubleneck guitar.

I meet up with my longtime friend Matt Bolus, who also happens to be the executive chef of The 404 Kitchen and Gertie’s Whiskey Bar. Pro tip: Always ask a local chef where to snag lunch but be prepared to get very full.

Normally, Matt would take me to the full-scale experience of Prince’s Hot Chicken, out on Nolensville Pike. But the bird is just as crispy, fiery and delicious at the stall inside Assembly Food Hall, a few blocks from the Gibson Garage.

There are more than a dozen places to have a small bite and drinks at this modern, multi-story emporium. The long line at Prince’s moves rapidly. I am instructed to order the Mild, being a newbie. The crunchy batter is still surprising, with great seasoning, balanced by my cold potato salad and creamy mac and cheese.

It’s time to lie down—and treat myself to a facial at The Joseph’s spa, Rose. My treatment uses a Biologique Recherche Remodeling Face Machine. I’m a bit nervous about “electric currents stimulating my circulation,” but after barely noticeable zaps move over one half of my face, she hands me a mirror. One side does look less puffy, more youthful. She zaps my other half, After a quick shower, I take my refreshed face back out on the town.

I meet back up with Matt at Gertie’s Whiskey Bar. It's a dark space and there’s a ladder attached to the wall to reach the 600 or so bottles of liquor. I order his Nashville Hot Manhattan: Sazerac 6-year rye, Carpano Antica vermouth, Cynar, Aleppo chili honey, and a firewater tincture. It's offered mild, medium or Nashville hot.

My spicy education continues a 10-minute walk away at Chauhan Ale & Masala House. Punjab-born chef Maneet Chauhan opened her restaurant in 2014. She quickly became famous being the first Indian woman to compete on Iron Chef, cooking at the White House, and being a judge on Chopped. Her dining room smells like saffron and fenugreek. Marigolds add bright yellow spots to the brick walls. ’90s hip-hop music plays in the background. I enjoy tandoori chicken poutine, a playful take on the Canadian favorite, and then a fragrant korma with cashews and tender lamb. When Chauhan stops by my table, I can’t help but ask, “Why Nashville?”

“Nashville was an exciting challenge,” she says warmly. “We were among the first to bring ethnic flavors to Nashville. I also loved the commonalities between the American South and India. Both cultures show love through food, and both love well-placed spice.”

At the end of a music-filled day, I need to see a show, so I head down 12th Avenue South to The Station Inn. It's arguably the best place to hear bluegrass and Americana in town. The setting, with its low ceiling, folding chairs and burned-out Christmas lights. It feels more church basement than premier music venue. But as soon as the musician onstage starts sawing away at his fiddle, I feel transported. I make my way to the bar to order a Budweiser, plucked from a bumper-sticker-covered fridge. I sit down on a folding chair between two men in flannel shirts. We have a great time laughing and clapping.

For my final day, I go to stay at The Russell, a hotel in East Nashville, across the Cumberland River. East Nashville was named the city’s "Coolest Neighborhood" by Vogue in 2016. It's always been a magnet for artists, young couples, and people who are open to new ideas. That means there are lots of small breweries, music venues, and unique shops.

The Russell is a prime example of preservation within progress. It’s a 120-year-old church that has been turned into a hotel—sans front desk. The headboard is made from an antique pew. The sheets are so soft I grab my laptop and buy a set before meeting hotel founder Micah Lacher in the lobby. We sit beneath a beautiful stained-glass window and sip lattes while talking about the hotel’s mission. Every guest’s stay at The Russell or its sister property, The Gallatin, contributes to helping Nashville’s homeless community. A portion of each room rate goes towards shelter, showers, and meals for those in need. A typical weekend stay can provide about 16 nights of shelter, 100 showers, or 30 meals.

“I grew up as the recipient of charity, and I’ve never forgotten it,” says Lacher, the president of Anchor Investments, a real-estate company. “I loved the concept of business as a mission. I loved that we could not only support East Nashville’s original community through this growth, but also save historic buildings.”

It’s more than two miles to Monell’s for breakfast. I get an Uber, which takes me eight minutes west, to a stunning 1905 brick mansion in Germantown. Breakfast begins at 8 a.m., seven days a week here. I break apart a fluffy, buttery biscuit, served aside thick-sliced country ham, their famous fried apples, crunchy hash browns, and an order of scrambled eggs.

After breakfast, I can’t help but do a little shopping in the gritty Fatherland District. Graffiti murals decorate a collection of tiny, interconnected shops—some only 200 square feet. Inside a shop called Ellie Monster I buy a vintage chambray shirt with two green dinosaurs newly chain-stitched on the collar.

After dropping my shopping bags at the hotel, I decide I could use some exercise and fresh air. Thankfully, the Nashville metro area has more than 15,000 acres of parkland and green space. At the end of a short Uber ride, I find myself standing on a wooden footbridge, surrounded by hickory, hackberry and elm trees. The Shelby Bottoms Greenway is a 960-acre park along the Cumberland River. Over the next hour, I go hiking beneath willow trees by a quiet pond and on rustic trails through the forest. I listen to frogs chirp and breathe the crisp Tennessee air.

After that, another Uber brings me to South Nashville’s Little Kurdistan. The neighborhood is home to thousands of Kurdish immigrants, who began arriving here in the 1970s. I open the door at Edessa more curious than hungry, but when the smell of turmeric hits me I’m suddenly ready to eat. A waiter helps me decide what to order. I start with gozleme, a flaky pastry with molten cheese and spiced spinach, and then dig into a plate of lamb. It's finely shaved, earthy, and robust. The waiter brings me a splash of ayran to try, and I like the thin, sour, ice-cold yogurt drink.

I check out 12 South, a colorful street with cute houses and neat shops. It’s between Little Kurdistan and downtown. I look at cowboy boots and skirts at Emerson Grace and get an espresso at Frothy Monkey. Imogene + Willie is one of my favorite online shops, so I head inside the store. It's a cool converted 1950s gas station where they have denim on the walls. I buy an African ginger and mahogany candle, the brand’s signature scent.

Somehow, it’s time for my dinner reservation at Etc. in Green Hills, a fancy neighborhood just a few minutes away. Chef Deb Paquette opened this restaurant in 2016, mixing flavors from around the world. It’s been attracting crowds ever since. They bring me bread with two kinds of butters—Indian mustard-spiced and apple pie. The server pairs a crisp French chardonnay with furikake fried green tomatoes topped with cashew wasabi and miso tofu aioli.

It’s time to end my trip at The Bluebird Café, hallowed ground for songwriters all around the world. It’s been around since 1982, welcoming aspiring musicians and established artists alike. I arrive just as the 9 p.m. set is starting and am led silently to my chair.

Looking around the room at the smiling crowd, I realize the same could be said of Nashville. It’s a place that embraces the new but holds on tight to its history. And isn’t that how it should be?

I take a sip of my whiskey and raise my glass as the crowd claps. To Nashville.