Years ago, when I was studying abroad in Belgium, my friends and I started a tradition of trying to go to Hard Rock whenever we could. We would eat baguettes and drink water for several other meals to afford it. It was, for most of us, our first time living outside the US and Hard Rock was a little trip home, at least through our stomachs.
Looking back now, it seems very silly that we found European food so exotic. Now it's all lumped together in my mind as "western food" and I can't imagine how we had any difficulty finding familiar food. We were sheltered for sure.
However, all these years I've still kept the tradition on my own, when I could. I almost always get the same thing-a barbecue pork sandwich with onion rings. I guess that's the closest I can get to Tennessee food.
It's still fun to go, especially if they play good music. I found the one in Bangkok, off of Siam Square, easily. I enjoyed the usual-although the buns here are too sweet-while reading the (thus far) soporific Swann's Way by Proust. Just to say, I tried twice to put that title in italics, but my phone doesn't like italics. It keeps autocorrecting it away and I give up. Anyway, all this to say, I splurged on Hard Rock for old time's sake, but it was a lot more fun with a crowd of noisy friends.
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