Southern Sunday Funday: Treylor Park
Do you ever have those times when you go somewhere and you feel like everything was done just right? Perhaps you’ve been to a wedding where the lighting and ambience was perfectly romantic without being cheesy. Sometimes you’ll find that feeling at a bar where the specialty cocktails and bar games fit your personality perfectly. I’ll be honest: I didn’t expect to find that feeling in a restaurant that everyone was raving about called “trailer park”. To be even more frank, I imagined massive canvas prints of Bubbles, Ricky, and Mr. Lahey hanging from the dingy brick walls of an old restaurant space on Bay Street. I expected to “get drunk and eat chicken fingers”, but I decided to do something with my life for once instead of stumbling around downtown like a drunken idiot in the middle of the day, as is my typical Sunday protocol in Savannah.
There’s also times in life when you have to admit how wrong you’ve been. I don’t look at it as a disservice to men everywhere who have maintained their correctness while driving around lost on a road trip for an hour and a half, saying, “Damn it, Sharon, I’ve told you. This is what I read on MapQuest.” I look at it as finally seeing the opportunity to give credit where credit is due. Treylor Park deserves every word I could write in this article and more, as you’ll soon learn. But as a side note, don’t be a Sharon. Let us find our way. We are the explorers of the world! We are the same men who conquered the jungles of the Amazon to find civilization!
We are…okay, we aren’t. We are driving aimlessly in the worst part of Cleveland, and I know the kids are hungry and tired, but lock the doors and bear with me for one second, Sharon, I’m doing the best I can here.
This is a time where I have to admit that my personal expectations, based solely on, well, nothing, were far and above exceeded by the amount of care and thoughtfulness that went into every aspect of Treylor Park. From the décor to the eats, the level of trendy flawlessness at every turn of the head was unsurpassed by any restaurant I’ve visited in Savannah. I immediately noticed the attention to detail Trey, the owner and namesake of the place, put into designing his home base, namely: inventive art donning the walls, a projector displaying the live sports, and a no-nonsense re-purposed bowling alley for the bar. Also, the tea lights and perfectly dimmed Edison lighting gave the whole interior a vintage feel.
Being with old friends from Atlanta, we knew our first order of business was to order our first round, so we perched up on the bar to suck down our first hooch of the day. I ordered a Service Brewing Compass Rose, a crisp IPA from a brewery of veterans who donates a portion of its profits to a nonprofits and charities who support servicemen and veterans.
Soon after getting a peek at the menu, we decided to head to a table as we figured we’d be there for a while. Right we were. We went heavy right out of the gate, ordering a heaping pile of Treylor Park’s Nachos Grande. These were unlike any other “nachos” I’ve ever had. With a base of crisp, salty waffle fries, this mountain of deliciousness was layered with delectable homemade pickles, fried chicken, bacon, balsamic gastrique, gooey cheddar cheese, and adorned with a tangy chive ranch drizzle. As can be seen by my last article, I’m not a soup-and-salad kind of guy, so this was right up my alley. The fries held their form under the intense array of toppings, and within a few minutes, we were pouring over the menu seeing what else Treylor Park had to offer our growing appetites and stomachs.
Next up to bat, were the Chicken & Pancake Tacos. Now, for those of yall who know me, you know how big of a fan of chicken and waffles I am. If you don’t know me, just take my word for it, its a thing. Fried chicken and waffles are my Lucy and Ricky – a timeless combination that no matter how many times I have it will never go out of style. This was one of the most imaginative and playful versions of chicken and waffles that I’ve ever seen. The plate came out with three “tacos”, which had a thin, crispy peppered pancake substituted for the tortilla. Inside were fried chicken fingers, which had a crispy crust leading to plump, juicy, and tender chicken underneath. Which were topped with strawberry salsa, and a honey-chili dressing.
The first bite was different than I’d expected. I expected, and really welcomed, the ideal chicken/battered good taste that I’d always had – heavy, thick, syrupy. What I found was something surprisingly light-tasting. The strawberry salsa did it’s job by really freshening up my palate with juicy berries and the bright bite of herbs. There were three tacos and two couples, so each couple split one, and everyone stared at the last one to see what to do. I manned up and took it down the hatch, leaving a bit of pancake for my fiancée because I’m a gentleman.
Before we ordered more food, my fiancée put in for a house specialty cocktail, the Baby Doll, consisting of vodka, fresh watermelon puree, pineapple juice, and lemon juice. If you like watermelon, this is the drink for you. This wasn’t any BlowPop watermelon flavoring. The drink was bursting with that summery, sitting-on-the-grass-with-red-faces watermelon flavor that you remember from being a kid in the South. I wish I had more to report on the libation front, but I swear if you have one of these, it’s pretty damn difficult to change it up to anything else afterwards.
Finally, we have arrived. I bet you didn’t know you were going anywhere, as I did. I’ve been waiting, furiously typing to get to this portion of the article. In the single most logic-defying yet intriguing idea I’ve ever seen on a bar menu: the PB&J Wings. Yes, you read that right. Peanut butter and jelly. Fried. Chicken. Wings. Where can I even start? If you’re saying to yourself, “Would it be good? I mean, it could be good, I guess. I like chicken wings. I like peanut butter and jelly. But I also like grilled fish and Hershey’s chocolate syrup, and I’d never eat that together.” I can’t speak for the grilled fish and Hershey’s, but the PB&J Wings were my favorite non-spicy chicken wing that I’ve ever had.
They taste pretty much like you’d expect: peanut and pecan butter sauce tossed wings with peach jelly dipping sauce with macerated peaches running relief for the normal ranch/blue cheese selection. Though the taste could be expected, what I didn’t expect is how much I would enjoy the flavor. The creamy peanut/pecan butter adheres to the fried chicken wings very well, and its thick and sticky and perfect. The wings are also dusted with crushed nuts. The peach dipping sauce is absolutely to die for. As with basically everything else at Treylor Park, the addition of something fresh, in this case fresh peaches, really lightens up the taste buds, allowing the patron to eat what I can only assume is infinity wings. That’s right – infinity wings. You’d probably have to get a few beers in between, though.
After we ate a few rounds of PB&J Wings, we decided to just continue drinking and hold off on ordering more food, which is where my day starts to get a little hazy. My friends made short work of finishing off what was left of the plate of fries while we had a few more drinks and stumbled out of the door onto Bay Street in the dying light of the day. With a belly-full that could make a Viking jealous, we paid our tab, made exorbitant by our own choosing, and laughed our way back to City Market.
Treylor Park’s slogan is “Live Sensibly”, which I feel we accomplished, regardless of the ungodly amount of gluttony that we took part in that day. A full day filled with delicious food, great service, maybe one or two too many drinks, and an experience that I can’t wait to repeat. And I put it to you, on a Sunday Funday, what could be more sensible than that?
