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Dawn Gilchrist/Tim Osment
East Tennessee Coffee Company
Tennessee’s Cocke County is rich in sustenance, from fried hand pies and hearty sandwiches to endless shelves of books to devour.
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Dawn Gilchrist/Tim Osment
Carver's Fried Apple Pie
Tennessee’s Cocke County is rich in sustenance, from fried hand pies and hearty sandwiches to endless shelves of books to devour.
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Tim Osment
Over 60,000 new, used, and rare titles
Tennessee’s Cocke County is rich in sustenance, from fried hand pies and hearty sandwiches to endless shelves of books to devour.
Husband-and-wife team Tim Osment and Dawn Gilchrist explored Newport and Cosby, Tennessee, in search of their favorite hallmarks of small-town living in Southern Appalachia—fresh coffee, smart books, and good eating.
From our home in Sylva, we sidled up along Jonathan Creek in Haywood County and rode it until we approached the Pigeon River and intersected Interstate 40. A few more miles, two tunnels, a welcome center, and a variety of sweeping curves later, we landed in downtown Newport, Tennessee, population 6,926. It was still early. The fragrant wood smoke from the cooker at the Gigglin’ Pig was just heating up, and the library did not open for another hour, so we settled for an outdoor table at the nearby East Tennessee Coffee Company.
I walked inside for two mugs and a menu and returned with one regular coffee and one cup of Bourbon Pecan. My flavored coffee selection proved the highlight, though I could have opted for an Uncle Ratt, a Jamie Fish, or a Vera Pratt (don’t ask). It was a weekend, so our barista, Jessi, had both the time and the inclination for a chat. After telling us how the phrases “graveyard shift” and “saved by the bell” originated, she informed us that the nearby Pigeon River was “the best fishing around, but don’t eat anything out of it.” Mostly, Jessi provided us a generous serving of what we determined was the inspiration for the name of the town’s newspaper, the Newport Plain Talk.
By now the town was stretching its legs, and we were interested in sampling another kind of nourishment. We headed down the block and across the street to the modern Stokely Memorial Library, open six days a week. Local history best reveals itself through the stories of an area’s founding families, so I was especially curious about one of the library’s prominent features: the Mark Goins Genealogy Room. Leaving bags, pens, and other accessories in a secure drawer, I was permitted to walk a shadowy passageway and enter into a researcher’s dream of overflowing shelves heavy with a century of binders, self-publications, microfilm, and newspaper clippings. It was a treasure of information: some fact, some lore, all love. (Bookmark this stop under “come again.”)
Leaving the Memorial Library, we moved west along the repurposed storefronts of Broad Street. Debbie’s Drive-in beckoned with their Fried “Tater” Chips, but temptation was tempered with temperance, and we decided to explore an area a few miles south. We exited the town identified for its propinquity to several strategic river fords—hence “New Port”—and pointed our car towards the Great Smoky Mountains National Park and Cosby, Tennessee.
We drove down Old Highway 32, paying close attention so as not to miss a one-of-a-kind used book and coffee store that had been the talk of travelers for several years. Suitably named Our Place, it is an extension of the owner’s home. On the way, we passed Janice’s Diner, its nondescript building surrounded by Tennessee tags. (Hint: Local patronage is often a truer indicator of good food than are dozens of Yelp reviews.) Just as our GPS announced that Our Place was getting close, something on the left captured our attention: the Cosby satellite location of Newport’s own Gigglin’ Pig. Suspecting it may be a sign from the big BBQ smoker in the sky, we spun into the gravel parking lot and learned that, while not heaven, it was certainly otherworldly. We selected pulled-pork sandwiches, slow-smoked with real wood. With the additions of coleslaw, smoked vegetables, chips, and several varieties of sauce (try the Twisted), our hungry souls were headed for salvation. This notable lunch behind us, we could now return to the subject of books and bookstores.
Our Place stood just around the corner, describing itself as a family-run business that loves both books and the Great Smoky Mountains. With over 60,000 new, used, and rare titles—and serving as the region’s outlet for Larry’s Beans (fair-trade, organic coffee)— this small store feels right the moment you arrive. Forget “No Parking” signs; here visitors are invited to “Park Anywhere.”
While Dawn browsed inside, I decided on a shady chair and a bowl of water outside for our four-legged traveling companion. About then, the owner called out that I was welcome to enter, and so was our “well-behaved dog.” It’s hard to describe the combined feelings of privacy, quiet, and excitement that arose from exploring aisle after aisle of books stacked floor to ceiling. A suggestion: Set aside some time for Our Place, where you can get lost for hours, if not the entire day.
Outside shadows were appearing; in my mind Buddy Holly was singing “Not Fade Away.” But we had one more promise to keep: a stop at Carver’s Orchard. The parking lot was full, and folks were taking a number at the Carver family’s adjacent Applehouse Restaurant, known for its apple fritters, apple butter, and sharp shots of apple cider, not to mention plentiful servings of fried chicken. We decided to forgo the restaurant, pick through the fresh produce in their vast barn shop, and then arrange for a fried pie or two to join us on our trek back to North Carolina.
Musings for the drive home: The rolling designs of the Great Smoky Mountains around Newport and Cosby, Tennessee, are as humbling as they are impressive. Combine them with good company, tasty food and drink, an old black lab, and stacks of well-read books, and the emotions border on reason to celebrate.