Queen Annís Fish & Fries
1210 Old Hickory Blvd. East; 868-0350.
Open 11 a.m.-7 p.m. Mon.-Thurs.; 11 a.m.-5 p.m. Fri.
Somewhere on my lengthy list of pet peeves is the go-go American habit of eating in cars. I donít do it, and I donít allow passengers to do it. Iím not talking about lollipops, cookies, Popsicles or even a bag of pretzels—small snacks to appease hungry or cranky children. No, I mean the super-sized burger with fries and a shake, the fried chicken drumstick and mashed potatoes with gravy, the slice of pepperoni pizza, the chili-cheese burrito, even—I swear I am not making this up—barbecued ribs. I have seen women lifting plastic forks full of romaine lettuce to their mouths as they drive down Wedgewood, and I wouldnít be in the least surprised to see someone cutting into a T-bone steak as he steers his car down Broadway with his elbows.
I donít know why people do it. If they have so little time to eat breakfast, lunch or dinner, why canít they just do what I do and stand in front of the open refrigerator with a spoon? From what I can tell of the people who do meals on wheels, this kind of behavior can lead to obesity, nasty clothing stains and rear-end collisions. Indeed, a recent news report noted that eating while driving is more dangerous than talking on a cell phone while driving. So if you have to eat in the car, at least pull over somewhere and remain stationary for the duration.
All of that being said, there I was last week, driving south on Ellington Parkway, my left hand on the steering wheel, and in my right hand, a whoppiní, very messy, hot fish sandwich. I started the sandwich as I merged onto Ellington in Madison, and by the time I got to the James Robertson Parkway exit, all that remained was the paper wrapper and my five greasy fingers—which were licked clean by the time I got on I-65 South.
The departure from my typical car-eating policy was radical but perfectly understandable, given the irresistible odor wafting from the bag of food I was toting from Queen Annís Fish & Fries, a tiny kiosk at the end of a shabby little strip center where Old Hickory Boulevard intersects with Rio Vista Pike. I am certain I have never been in that part of town before, but you can bet Iíll be back, lured by the outstanding fish sandwich and the amazing sweet potato fries (which were also devoured in the car).
What is it about Madison that attracts royalty? Queen Annís—which, according to the small sign out front, specializes in ìOld Fashion Spicy Hot Fishî—is less than five minutes away from Richieís Hot íNí Spicy Kastle, on Old Hickory Boulevard east of Gallatin Road. The Queen Annís sign also reads, ìLike Mom Used to Make.î Well, not my Yankee mom, but it was the method favored by Lynesa Bensonís mother, Anna Lilly, who owned and operated the original Queen Annís, a soul food meat-and-three in Murfreesboro. When Anna Lilly passed away unexpectedly a little over a year ago, Lynesaís husband Paul suggested that the two of them open some type of restaurant to leave as a legacy for their children, and as a tribute to her mother.
Lynesa, who had no hands-on experience running a restaurant, thought it sounded like a good idea, with one caveat: In addition to some favorite fried Southern specialties, the new Queen Annís would also offer more nutritious, heart-friendly alternatives. ìOne of the things that led to my motherís death was heart disease,î says Lynesa. ìAfter that, I began to look at vegetarian cooking.î
Thus, in addition to fried fish sandwiches, French fries and burgers, the menu also offers veggie fish sandwiches, veggie barbecue, veggie meatballs, veggie burgers and veggie gyros. Benson has devised her own zealously guarded recipes for the gluten-based veggie mix, which she then flavors with seasonings appropriate to the various sandwiches. The meatballs were moist and flavorful—somewhat reminiscent of falafel—served on wheat bread with a spicy sauce. The veggie gyro sandwich, which to the naked eye looks exactly like the real deal, has the same seasonings and is served and dressed in the same manner as a non-veggie gyro. The gyro is also available as a platter, over rice with a salad. Other Queen Annís specialties are Cleveland-style corn on the cob, which comes cooked in the husk and seasoned, and bite-sized, deep-fried turkey medallions, which come served in a wrap or as a side dish. Frankly, I couldnít get there with the turkey, though Benson says it is very popular among the Queenís people.
My vote goes to the fish sandwich and fries. The sandwich consists of three whiting filets rolled in cornmeal (plain or spicy), deep-fried, stuffed between two slices of white or wheat bread, and dressed with yellow mustard, Tabasco, pickles and onion. Both varieties of the fabulous fries are hand-cut; the regular also get a dose of spice.
Queen Annís is well worth the drive from Nashville, but if you arrive hungry, bring your own table and chair to set up in the parking lot next to the Bensonsí kiosk. Otherwise, youíll be doing that car-chow thing, and quite frankly, itís not pretty.
