Side quest: The world’s largest cast iron skillet in Tennessee
Side quests are Super Cool spots on the way to someplace else. A good meal, a scenic view, a small-town surprise — proof that the best road trips aren't just about the destination. They're about enjoying the miles in between.
Characters constructed of cast iron skillets, corn pans and other cookware make for a cheerful arrival at Lodge Museum of Cast Iron in South Pittsburg, Tennessee.
I'd lost count of how many times a bright yellow billboard had tried to lure me in to see the world's largest cast iron skillet.
The first dozen or so times, I ignored the signs along I-24 in Southeast Tennessee.
Roadside attractions just seem hokey.
But something funny happens when you see the same thing over and over. It starts to shift from unknown to familiar.
Your curiosity grows.
Then one day, instead of driving past, you find yourself taking the exit.
Psychologists call it the mere exposure effect. The more we see something, the more appealing it becomes.
Our brains are wired to favor what’s familiar.
Which is how I went from rolling my eyes at all those yellow billboards to pulling into the Lodge Museum of Cast Iron.
Side quest: South Pittsburg, Tennessee
Stop 1: Breakfast
Big Bad Breakfast
7 a.m. to 2:30 p.m. daily (check for holiday closures and other changes)
222 3rd Street
South Pittsburg, Tennessee 37380
J-Wo peruses the menu in a comfy booth at Big Bad Breakfast in South Pittsburgh. The egg pendant lights were a total I can’t moment for me. The window behind the booths gives a sneak peek into the museum.
This side quest is a true twofer, so time your visit for when the lights are on at both Big Bad Breakfast and the Lodge Museum of Cast Iron. They’re located in the same building, but the restaurant only serves breakfast and lunch while the museum stays open into the evening.
It’s worth making things line up. You can enjoy a meal cooked in cast iron (depending on what you order) and explore the history of cast iron all in one stop.
Chef John Currence started Big Bad Breakfast in 2008, and he’s got some serious cred and connections.
The New Orleans native is a James Beard Award winner who’s grown his breakfast joint to 29 locations across the South.
For its name, he took inspiration from a short story collection, Big Bad Love, by his friend and award-winning author Larry Brown.
For its menu, he went Southern, naturally, serving up comfort food classics with some creative twists.
The cornbread omelet comes with one side. I opted for the black pepper buttermilk biscuit (surprisingly heavy on the pepper) and added a side of sausage gravy so I could try all the things.
Take the spicy bacon.
He cures it with spent pepper mash — but not just any ol’ pepper mash. It’s what’s left over after Tabasco cooks up its world-famous hot sauce. He’s the only chef in the world with access to this special ingredient.
Our server sprinkled in anecdotes like this each time she stopped by. Making the whole experience feel less like eating at a restaurant and more like stepping into a story.
Then there’s the cornbread omelet, available only in South Pittsburg.
Instead of eggs, pancake-esque cornbread is folded around bacon, spinach, tomatoes and cheese. It nods to the National Corn Bread Festival the town hosts each April — and who knows, I might end up going to it one day.
The mere exposure effect already worked once, bringing me to South Pittsburg despite my initial hesitation. I wouldn’t rule out it happening again.
Stop 2: Museum
Lodge Museum of Cast Iron
8 a.m. to 6 p.m. daily (check for holiday closures and other changes)
220 3rd Street
South Pittsburg, Tennessee 37380
We’re a little blurry but you get the idea — we’re standing next to a cast iron skillet that weights as much as the largest elephants in existence.
A skillet museum? Seriously?
That’s the kind of thinking that kept me from checking out Lodge Museum of Cast Iron the first 5 years of seeing their yellow signs on our camper van trips.
And yes, it is a skillet museum. But it’s so much more than that.
It’s a story of community. Lodge Cast Iron started in South Pittsburg in 1896, and it’s still the only place where it’s made.
Of perseverance. During the Great Depression in the 1930s, no one was buying skillets. But apparently they were buying doorstops and garden gnomes, which Lodge started to produce. The novelty items ensured their survival and are now sought-after collector pieces.
Of family. Cast iron cookware endures, getting handed down generation after generation.
If you love cookware and cute kitchen things, meet your weakness: the Lodge cast iron store, which stocks their product line and plenty of other cooking accessories like pig-shaped sponges. Who doesn’t want those?
Of the outdoors. Cast iron and campfire cooking just belong together, like terriers and camper vans.
The museum hits home.
It’s smart of Lodge to place themselves within the story of how food brings us all together. It transforms a piece of metal into something relatable and deeply human.
Learning how this iconic cookware is made is pretty fascinating, too.
So spend the $10 and tour the little museum about skillets. It’s surprisingly big on heart and home to the world’s largest cast iron skillet, weighing in at 14,360 pounds.
Afterward, you can apply your $10 entry fee to a purchase of $50 or more in their store.
Uncharacteristically for me, I left empty-handed — though that buffalo nickel skillet is still calling my name.
I walked away with something less tangible instead. An appreciation of how a skillet has shaped lives and memories across generations.
People traveling in RVs and other large vehicles will appreciate this: A parking lot with plenty of room for your rig. We arrived early on a Sunday in June and had our choice of spots.
Breakfast, a museum and a little shopping if you’re up for it, all under one roof and with easy camper van parking. This is exactly the kind of side quest that turns a travel day into something more than just getting from point A to point B.
And it’s less than 5 minutes off I-24.
The mere exposure effect made it feel familiar enough to stop.
Stopping changed my perspective.
Now when I see those yellow signs, I won’t dismiss them like I used to. I’ll remember what it felt like to finally slow down and look.
