So as Liz was pulling out of the parking lot, I zoomed over to downtown on Yelp and read off a few names. Poogan’s Porch sounded funny (I mean, poo, lol), and ‘porch’ sounded perfectly Southern. We found parking easily, piled out and wandered over. As we were walking up the stairs, I felt content with our choice: it was quaint.

Once you walk up the stairs, you open the door into a long hallway to the hostess. It looked like a converted old house. The two people in front of us checked in to their reservations, and I immediately regretted just showing up.