When I talked to Taylor Swift for the Scene's People Issue, I mentioned that I had read somewhere that she and Miley Cyrus had eaten an entire pizza while rehearsing for the Grammys. "Yeah, we were talking 100 miles a minute," she said, "and so we didn't even realize that we were just completely eating an entire box of pizza." (I told her there's a Nashville band, Those Darlins, who have a song called "Whole Damn Thing," but that song's about a chicken, not a pizza. "I'll have to look that up!" she said.) Teenager, pizza: Makes sense.
Then I asked Swift to name some of her favorite Nashville restaurants, and she said, "I like Bricktop's a lot.... Bricktop's is cool. I went to Flyte once, have you ever been there?" I said I had been there, once. "It seemed really good," she replied. Seemed really good? But I think I know what she meant: Everything about the atmosphere of the place--the way the wait staff carry themselves and brush the crumbs off your table--makes the place seem good. But maybe that's another post. Anyway, pop star, fancy restaurant: Again, makes sense.
But remember when our own Nicki Wood asked the question: Eaten at the Old Spaghetti Factory latey? I guess I was a little surprised when Swift 'fessed up.
"When I'm home, I like to get to know my brother," Swift says. "Other than that, Abigail and I"--you may remember Abigail as her friend in "Fifteen" who "gave everything she had to a boy who changed his mind"--"we'll go to, like, the Old Spaghetti Factory. We literally do that. Just go to Broadway and do touristy stuff, because it's fun."
Then, probably because I had talked to chef Hide Watanabe earlier in the day, I popped the question: "Do you like sushi?"
"I have tried so hard to like sushi," she said apologetically. "I am the last person on earth who is not cool enough to be able to eat sushi. I can't swallow it." Then, in the same voice I might use to ask Yoda how he lifted the X-Wing out of the swamp, she asked, "How do you do that?"
"Um, I guess it's an acquired taste," I offered, trying to reassure her that it has nothing to do with being cool. "You're not the last person on earth, though," I added, not wanting to put my interview subject off, "because actually I talked to a sushi chef today who also plays banjo. He's friends with Earl Scruggs, and Earl Scruggs won't eat sushi, either." And though she was in L.A. and I in Nashville, I could sense the weight begin to lift. "That's good to know I'm in good company."
"You are in very good company," I said.
"I tried so hard to like it."