Dining
Unless you live in East Nashville or commute from Point A to Point B on Gallatin Pike, it’s not likely you’ll stumble across Eastside Fish. I first heard of it from a West Nashville friend who had crossed the river for a meeting at Village Church and was taken there by its director.
When I call the eatery to ask for directions, I’m told to look for the following landmarks: Nashville Auto Diesel College, Save-A-Lot and the Laundromat at 2617 Gallatin Pike. After taking a left at that address, I steer my car to the back and find Eastside Fish.
The tiny store has been swept clean of any evidence of its former occupant, a Domino’s Pizza franchise; it is now personalized by hand-painted murals of the downtown skyline and the Coliseum, an oar marked “January 2003,” a fishing vest, a corkboard covered with business cards, posters of local R&B and hip-hop artists, and a health inspection report that displays an admirable score of 90.
Anthony slides open a slot in the Plexiglas window above the counter and requests my order, which I have chosen from the menu board on one wall. In the fish department (the reason I’ve made the trek): whiting or catfish sandwich or plate, and sides of slaw, white beans, French fries, onion rings, green beans and the classic fish-sandwich accompaniment, spaghetti. Eastside also offers burgers, a shoulder sandwich, Polish sausage and wings for landlubbers. I ask for a whiting sandwich with everything but onion and cheese, which means I’ll get cornmeal-dredged, deep-fried filets, dressed with yellow mustard, hot sauce and pickle chips, between two slices of white bread. When I ask Anthony how long he’s been open, he says it was two years in January, but notes that he is not the owner and offers to fetch him for me.
A few minutes later, a handsome young man dressed in a white chef’s coat comes through the door that leads back to the kitchen and introduces himself as Bo. Though he doesn’t give a last name, he offers a title: “I’m the King Fish and this is my place, but I owe everything to my creator and my mother, who is my partner.” Who am I to argue with a man who has God and his mama on his side?
|
---------------------------Advertisement---------------------------
|
|
---------------------------Advertisement---------------------------
|
Prior to becoming the King Fish, Bo’s professional background was in the corporate world and the restaurant industry; about three years ago, he received divine inspiration to open his own place, and Eastside Fish was born. Its logo is whimsically symbolic: a crowned fish with a cross taking the place of its eye.
Though Eastside—which touts itself as having the Crunkest Fish in Town—initially focused exclusively on fish, Bo added other items to the menu shortly after. Still, he readily concedes the burger king crown to Fat Mo, who not long ago opened a freestanding kiosk across Gallatin Pike. He also admits that the locally grown chain of burger stands inspired him to develop what is now his signature item: the Giant King. “I saw the Fat Mo Super Deluxe, and I figured I don’t do burgers, but he doesn’t do fish, so I can do the biggest fish in town. People call me King Fish, so I call it Giant King.”
And he ain’t lyin’. Though I’ve ordered the regular size whiting sandwich—which in my extensive fish sandwich experience usually consists of two healthy-sized filets—what I get is nearly 2 pounds of fish filets bulging out the sides of the bread and adding some heft to the brown-paper sack it is squeezed into. I suspect that when Anthony saw me interviewing the King, he super-sized me. Even if it’s the Giant King, it’s a bargain at $6.60; the $4.15 I pay is a steal, and I feel a little guilty when I open the bag. But driving into the afternoon sun across the arcing Gateway Bridge over the Cumberland River, peeling off pieces of hot, moist, perfectly crisped fish and popping them in my mouth, I feel like a queen.
Eastside Fish is at 2617 Gallatin Pike. Phone: 227-8388. Open Monday through Saturday.