Fourteen years ago Rich and I moved to Butler, Tennessee, a small burg tucked away in the mountains of Appalachia with a population of less than 800. The best place to eat closed down years ago. It was a gas station/restaurant where, from a row of booths sandwiched between the gas pumps in the front and the garage in the rear of the store, one could enjoy a chili dog and at the same time shop for spark plugs or tampons while breathing in oil and gas fumes. A lot has changed since we first arrived. Now vegans, we would not longer consider eating a chili dog and the restaurants that served them are long gone. There is neither a grocery store nor a gas station in the area.