Cream cheese-stuffed french toast
The view is as pretty as a postcard when you're driving along Saundersville Road in Old Hickory. There's a small, peaceful harbor on the banks of Old Hickory Lake where boats bob on the surface of the water and folks gather to fish or take advantage of public picnic areas generously shaded by trees still flaunting the fresh green coat that comes in early April. And in the middle of it all sits the most clusterfuckingest parking lot known to mankind.
With only about a dozen spots confusingly crammed into The Nashville Jam Cafe's small lot — with diagonal, straight and parallel parking options — hungry drivers are forced to circle for a vacant space like vultures above an eight-point buck taking its last breath. Any fat and happy diners who walk out of the cafe are instantly stalked by a row of slow-moving SUVs, all awaiting a fresh space. And for what? Judging by the gray, unassuming building with few windows and an overgrown patio area, nothing special.
Inside, the cafe still doesn't look like much — it's clean but not necessarily organized, with a hole-in-the-wall vibe and a staff that will be honest with you about the length of your wait. Vintage Coca-Cola signs hang on the walls, and a chalkboard menu advertises the specials and sides of the day, though it's partially blocked by a counter. The ceiling is an unattractive maze of low-hanging wood, wires and fixtures.
But despite the overwhelming clutter both inside and out, it took just a few minutes to get a party of five settled in on a recent busy Sunday at 10 a.m., and within 10 minutes we were sipping on sweet tea and ordering a basket of biscuits. Obviously, when dining at the Nashville Jam Cafe, the first thing to try is the jam. And, man, is that jam fantastic — it's earned props from Southern Living and is present in Whole Foods locations all over Tennessee.
As a vegetarian, I'm constantly running into biscuit makers who choose lard over butter, so I have to ask before I indulge.
"Do you use butter or lard in the biscuits?"
The friendly but frank waitress paused, then hesitantly said "butter," like she was revealing a secret she maybe wasn't supposed to tell.
"I guess what I'm asking is if they're vegetarian-friendly."
Another pause. "Probably not."
Damn it.
But the omnivores at the table gladly tore into the clouds of dough, describing them as especially soft and fluffy, with a clean flavor that proved to be the perfect vehicle to let the accompanying trio of jams — apple bourbon, peach and strawberry — really shine.
The parking lot rage continued to melt away as the rest of our breakfasts arrived.
My four companions and I fought for bites of the morning's special from the instant it was placed upon the table: cream-cheese-stuffed French toast. Four fat slices of bread — we're talking at least 2 inches thick — were filled with a sweetened cream cheese mixture and griddled 'til golden. Because the bread was so thick, the inside wasn't as custardy as I prefer, but the warm, creamy core kept it from being dry.
The toast would've been wonderful even if only sprinkled with a little confectioners' sugar, but the Nashville Jam Cafe was obviously out to impress — the French toast was also drenched in a blueberry compote that was just a bit on the runny side, but it sparkled with real fruit flavor. It was finished with another generous slathering of sweetened cream cheese topping, because WTF YOLO. If when you visit this special is written on the board, order it. Order it in a second.
The fried green tomato wrap — a wheat tortilla packed with scrambled eggs, fried green tomatoes and cheddar cheese — was a great way to follow the French toast's sweetness explosion. The first order came with bacon, despite a request to leave it off, but our server happily offered to either leave it off the ticket altogether or put in a new pork-free order. I chose the latter — I didn't wait 20 minutes for a parking spot to not eat some fried green tomatoes. Even though the second version came after the rest of the food was gone, it proved worth the wait, if only for the zesty sauce, which had a smoky chipotle flavor and dripped all over my hands.
The wrap came with a choice of Gouda grits (amazing) or potatoes, and what you need to know about The Nashville Jam Cafe's potatoes is that you can choose either the diced skillet potatoes or hash browns that have been fried in a waffle iron (!). Shredded potatoes are mashed into a hot iron until every bit is the most satisfyingly crunchable bit a potato can be. The fact that I've wasted digestive juices on any other hash brown is truly heartbreaking (except for the hash browns at Vera's in Seattle — damn, those are great diner hash browns).
But not all of Nashville Jam Cafe's attempts at potatoes are perfect. The I-40 Pileup, though the menu made it sound promising in its simplicity ("skillet potatoes topped with onions, peppers, cheddar cheese, bacon, two eggs"), was a wreck indeed. The flavors were great — the extra-crispy bacon earned special praise from my pals — but it only took a few bites of the potato mixture before the heavy cheese sauce started to exhaust the taste buds. It'd be better served with shredded cheese melted over the top so the crispy potatoes could keep their crunch.
The waffle was boring, too. Unlike its waffled-potato pal, it was pale and crunchless. If you're craving carbs, opt for the pancakes — they're nothing fancy, but they're some of the lightest, most expertly mixed pancakes I've tasted in recent memory.
Will a 30-minute drive help you beat the weekend breakfast bustle in the city? No. Will parking be any easier to find? Absolutely not. But even with a few misses, the Nashville Jam Co. proves there are still new ways to eat breakfast. And once your belly is full, treat yourself to a beautiful drive or stroll along the water. Some fresh air will soothe any rage you have left from that terrible parking lot.
Email arts@nashvillescene.com
Biscuits and jam
Fried Green Tomato wrap
