Jimmy Kelly’s corn cakes. Rotier’s grilled cheeseburger on French bread. Varallo’s three-way chili. Sylvan Park’s chocolate pie. Vandyland’s chocolate shakes. Miss Daisy’s fruit tea. Loveless Café biscuits. We could go on and on, but you get the picture. Our most beloved restaurants have one thing in common: a signature dish that keeps loyal customers coming back, again and again, for more.
Sadly, there are scads of full-grown Nashvillians who will never know Belle Meade Motel fried chicken, or the original Uncle Bud catfish joint on Hillsboro Road. But a new generation of cooks, chefs, restaurateurs and restaurants are making their mark, laying down the culinary cornerstones that will beckon the faithful back for that one special thing We offer 20 dishes from 20 local Nashville restaurants you won’t find done any better anywhere else. Enjoy.
Lobster Pie, Atlantis
The imminent arrival of chef Josh Weekley’s infamous Lobster Pie is announced to its devoted fans the moment it leaves the kitchen at his restaurant Atlantis; there is no mistaking the earthy and intoxicating aroma of truffles. The outrageously expensive fungus routed out by specially trained pigs and dogs, prized by chefs and gourmands alike, is the finishing touch on this ultimate comfort dish, described by Weekley as “Shepherd’s Pie of the Sea.” Simple food for well-heeled minimalists: chunks of roasted Maine lobster in an intense reduced lobster sauce, topped with white truffle-mashed potatoes. “It’s incredibly rich and of a generous size, not very exciting to look at, but people love it, and the serving dish always comes back clean,” says Weekley. The Lobster Pie takes a summer sabbatical, but returns early fall to the Atlantis menu. 1911 Broadway, 327-8001.
——Kay West
Fried Quail, Catfish Kitchen
It’s midweek and you’re hankering for a restaurant to do the cooking. Why not play hooky, skip out just a little early and head down Highway 70 to Montgomery Bell State Park. Go for a hike, swish through the autumn leaves, and then on your way home, turn into the parking lot with the giant, leaping catfish. If it’s a Tuesday or Wednesday, skip the fish, and go for the quail. These whole farm-raised birds are deep-fried to a rusty brown. After eating countless, tasteless factory chickens, they’re a rich example of what fowl should really taste like. Throw in a hush puppy or two, and you’ll drive home with a stupid, fat smile. 3069 Highway 70E, Burns, 446-4480.
——Jim Myers
Grandma Zola’s Paella, Zola
Before Zola was Zola, it was Cakewalk, one of Nashville’s first independently owned, chef-driven, contemporary restaurants. Before chef Deb Paquette ran the kitchen at Zola—which she now co-owns with husband Ernie—she ran the kitchen at Cakewalk. (There was a brief hiatus in between when she served as executive chef at Bound’ry.) She can tell you that there has always been a pot of fish stock simmering on the stove to make the paella that has always been a staple of the menu of Cakewalk-Zola. Paquette frequently turns to the Mediterranean for her inspiration, particularly Spain, which is where the dish has its origins. She has tweaked the original over the years. The current crowd-pleaser is a bounty of scallops, shrimp, fish, chorizo, ham and veggies nestled in a bowl of fragrant saffron rice. 3001 West End Ave., 320-7778.
——K.W.
Crawfish Boil, South Street Crab Shack
About the time bayou priests start blessing the shrimp fleets of southern Louisiana, Easter bonnets come out and crawfish begin wriggling into nets. From roughly March to July, a lot of those little mudbugs make their way to South Street for Sunday crawfish boils that can stave off the Monday blues. They seem best in spring when the warm sun, cool breeze, cold beer and hot spices mingle to make you forget all the work it takes to set the sweet tail-meat free. 907 20th Ave. S., 320-5555.
——J.M.
Bleu Cheese Polenta Fries, Mirror
Mirror’s bleu cheese polenta fries are listed on their menu under “small plates” but the dish delivers a lot of bang for the buck— or two bucks—which is all an order will set you back. A bargain, considering their soon-to-be nationally famous stature, thanks to the dishes upcoming featured spot on The Food Network’s daily Best Of program. They were on the first menu at Mirror, the lively 12 South restaurant opened in July 2000 by Colleen and Michael DeGregory. Though it took the young couple some time to sell Nashvillians on the appeal and efficiency of tapas, the polenta fries were an immediate hit. “They are sort of my version of fried cheese sticks,” says Mr. DeGregory, “with just a hint of wryness. It’s cornmeal, bleu cheese, garlic, butter and cilantro. I slice them, fry them and plate them with a charred tomato sauce.” 2317 12th Ave. S., 383-8330.
——K.W.
Pupusas, Las Americas
While ancient gardeners of Mesoamerica gave us maize, folks in Mexico and Central America spent the last couple thousand years trying to reinvent the flat tortilla. The Salvadoran entry into the corn sweepstakes is the pupusa, a tortilla on steroids that’s thick enough to hide a pork-and-cheese stuffing before being set into the fryer. It’s served up piping hot with a mild but rich tomato sauce and accompanied by shredded cabbage akin to a less vinegary slaw. The pupusa’s Mexican cousin, the gordita (little fatty), can also be found, but when you want the real thick deal, head to Las Americas. 4715 Nolensville Road, 315-8888.
——J.M.
Low Country Shrimp and Grits, Martha’s at the Plantation
According to John Martin Taylor, author of Hoppin’ John’s Lowcountry Cookbook, there is no dish more typically lowcountry than shrimp and grits, also known in those parts (i.e., the coastal plain of South Carolina) as breakfast shrimp. “Umpteen versions exist for the gravy,” he writes, using butter, bacon grease, shrimp stock or even tomato sauce. But whatever the gravy, the grits must be creamy, and he recommends using butter, milk or cream. When Martha Stamps and her husband John Reed met friends in Charleston for a weekend, they ate shrimp and grits everywhere they went, possibly trying all umpteen versions. The one that diners at her Martha’s at the Plantation are crazy for has plump pan-seared shrimp atop baked cheese grits with a spoon or two of country ham. You’ll find Martha’s shrimp and grits on the brunch menu now, and as an entrée in the fall. 5025 Harding Road, 353-2828.
——K.W.
Doro Wat and Berbere Sauce, Horn of Africa
Ethiopian stews are such a flavor surprise that our notion of slow-cooked concoctions just don’t seem to do the food justice. Owing to their trade route crossroads, Ethiopians blend more spices than Col. Sanders, toasting, grinding and mixing them into a pungent paste called berbere. Mingling such exotics as cardamom, turmeric, fenugreek, allspice, cinnamon and pepper—for a kick—creates a dark red blend of complex flavors. Add the berbere to meat that’s cooked in an equally spicy, clarified butter, and you have a “stew” that keeps your tongue exploding with alarms of happiness. And if you’re new to Ethiopian cuisine, the owners will graciously explain the menu. 1041 Murfreesboro Road, 366-3468.
——J.M.
Gnocchi, Basante’s
Gnocchi is not on the menu at Basante’s, the cozy midtown restaurant that buzzes at lunch and hums at dinner. At least the word “gnocchi” isn’t. But regular customers, who are legion, know where to find the classic Italian comfort food. Right there, at the bottom of the pasta category: potato dumplings. Technically correct, gnocchi is Italian for dumplings, and gnocchi is typically made from potatoes. Shaped into little balls, gnocchi is cooked in boiling water and tossed with butter and Parmesan cheese, or with a more flavorful sauce. When he opened Basante’s, owner, chef and California immigrant Luis Fonseca thought locals would sooner order a “potato dumpling” than attempt to wrap their Southern accents around the word gnocchi, pronounced NYOH-kee. No matter what your native tongue, Basante’s version—with pancetta (an Italian bacon), onion and crushed red pepper in a tomato cream sauce—sets delectably in the mouth. 1800 West End Ave., 320-0534.
——K.W.
Pho, Miss Saigon
Vietnamese noodle dishes are deceptively simple, and like most well prepared dishes, it’s about the balance. Pho is basically a broth with cooked noodles and meat or seafood, with fresh herbs and vegetables tossed in tableside for crunchy texture and punctuated flavor. What makes Miss Saigon’s pho so magnetic is the broth. There are no shortcuts to achieve such subtle depth, especially in their beef broth with its underlying hint of cinnamon. This is also a tremendous way to go when you want to sate an empty stomach without incurring the expense of health and cash. 5849 Charlotte Pike, 354-1351.
——J.M.
Steak ’n’ Frites, Caffe Nonna
Caffe Nonna, the tiny Sylvan Park restaurant co-owned by its huge-hearted chef Daniel Maggipinto, is Nashville’s version of the film Big Night: loud, lively, warm and unfailingly generous. It’s Bistro, Italian style, with close-set tables, friendly, assured service and simple, substantial, earthy cooking. Steaks frites is classic French bistro fare. Maggipinto’s version takes the basic meat and potato premise and offers his more savory interpretation. He marinates flank steak in balsamic vinegar, herbs and a touch of honey, grills it, slices it, then fans it over some mesclun greens. Add a Mediterranean relish of artichokes, roasted red pepper, capers, mushroom and garlic, throw on some crumbled Gorgonzola cheese and top with a tangle of crisp matchstick potatoes. Now that’s amore. 4427 Murphy Road, 463-0133.
——K.W.
@NormalWhole Fried Tilapia, La Terraza
Sure, the singular taste of an isolated filet offers its own reward, but deep fry a whole fish and you’ve got a moist flavor that’s warm and comforting. La Terraza’s version—a single, golden-brown queen tilapia, scored in diagonal slashes with flaky white flesh peeking out—just begs the first flick of the fork. It’s a reminder that Mexico’s long coastlines boast fruits of the sea prepared in rustic, satisfying ways. Stop chewing and you can almost hear the sea breeze rustling the palm fronds of your beachfront palapa. 5751 Nolensville Pike, 835-0106.
——J.M.
Lamb & White Bean Cassoulet, Yellow Porch
Ease your way into this other white meat via Kim Totzke’s hearty and flavorful lamb and white bean cassoulet, a cool weather comfort dish that will return to the Yellow Porch menu later this month. White beans are cooked in olive oil with white onion, rosemary, garlic and white wine chicken stock; chunks of lamb are simmered in a broth to falling-apart tenderness. The two are then sautéed together in a stock with tomato, more rosemary and wine. Add roasted potatoes and spinach, top with Parmesan and bread crumbs, and crisp under the broiler. You will never look at lamb the same way again. 734 Thompson Lane, 386-0260.
——K.W.
Spiced Grapes, Red Wagon Café
Luncheon plates are typically accessorized with a small side salad: fresh fruit, cold pasta or potatoes, maybe sliced cucumbers or carrot sticks. But there is nothing typical at Red Wagon Café, the East Nashville restaurant recently opened by chef Meg Guiffrida and her husband Paul Burch. And certainly nothing prepared me for the burst of flavor from the glistening orbs nestled in a small white ramekin that accompanied my sesame noodles with shrimp, and my companion’s sandwich of roasted chicken with avocado, goat cheese, dried cherries and herbed mayonnaise on sourdough bread. “What is this?” I asked the server as she passed our table. “Spiced grapes,” she replied with a small smile. Guiffrida wanted something special to make her lunch plates even more memorable than they are already. So a few times a week she makes up a tub of these petite treats, which owe their exotic scent and luscious flavor to coriander, cinnamon, ginger, cloves, a touch of sugar, white vinegar and jalapeño. They have become such a taste sensation that customers are buying them to go. 1112 Woodland St., 226-2527.
——K.W.
Fried Asparagus, Kote
According to Food Lover’s Companion, an appetizer is “any small, bite-size food served before a meal to whet and excite the palate.” Obviously, the editor of that respected tome hasn’t been to mainstream American restaurants lately, where appetizers have grown to such mammoth portion that diners find themselves asking for a doggie bag with their entrée. Gene Kote, chef/owner (with wife Dawn) of Kote’s restaurant, saves his diners from gross gluttony with a trilogy of starters designed to whet the appetite, not bludgeon it. Of particular note is the fried asparagus, a minimalist construction of perhaps a dozen crisp spears, rolled in toasted bread crumbs, flash-fried, neatly stacked on a plate and served with a ramekin of creamy horseradish sauce. Polish off the whole plate and you’ll still have plenty of wiggle room for dinner. 2107 Belmont Blvd., 463-3350.
——K.W.
Lemon Icebox Pie, Belle Meade Buffet
Popular belief holds that nothing is more American than apple pie. In the South, apple is but one of a multitude of choices, and pretty far down on the totem pole at that. American food chronologists Jane and Michael Stern write in their engaging guide of outstanding regional restaurants Goodfood, “...the place we like eating pies best is the South, where love of sweets [is] a regional obsession.” Any respectable meat-and-three offers at least three Southern standards daily—chess, pecan and chocolate fudge—as well as a repertoire of fruit cobblers. But only at the Belle Meade Buffet, the cafeteria dining room of choice for thousands of Nashvillians for 41 years, will you find lemon icebox every day—if you get there before they run out. The bouffant hairdo of pies, BMB’s version has a sweet-tart filling of sugary-lemony creamy custard, topped with a puffy cloud of meringue teased to wildly extravagant heights. It’s a beautiful thing. 4534 Harding Road, 298-5571.
——K.W.
Szechuan Green Beans, Park Café
Like most children, I ate my veggies under extreme duress. The only quasi-vegetable I would cheerfully consume was corn on the cob. The inclusion of peas, carrots, broccoli, squash, lima beans, or God forbid, beets, on the plate inevitably inspired a bout of spontaneous gagging. The mid-’60s introduction of the infamous green bean casserole—canned green beans, canned cream of mushroom soup, canned French-fried onions—was cause for celebration around my family diner table. Had Willie Thomas, Park Café’s chef and owner, given my mother his recipe for Szechuan green beans, she would have had the supreme experience of hearing her children implore, “More, please.” Fresh long beans are barely blanched to keep their crisp, sautéed in crackling hot sesame oil, doused with soy sauce and I don’t know what else, and laid alongside Thomas’ pan-seared salmon. Park regulars order them heaped on a plate as a solo act. 4403 Murphy Road, 383-4409.—K.W.
Wasabi Crusted Tuna, mAmbu
Though its linguistic origins are unclear, mAmbu, according to chefs Anita Hartell and Corey Griffith, translates to “my love for you,” and their affection for their public is displayed in every dish. Hartell and Griffith share a kitchen, a restaurant and culinary chutzpah matched only by unbridled creativity. Though flavors emigrate to the mAmbu menu from all over the globe, the primary influence is Far Eastern. Consider the tuna entrée—crushed wasabi peas pressed onto a slab of fresh tuna, pan-seared, drizzled with sweet chili sauce, served with a mango dipping sauce and plated with fried sweet potatoes. A harmoniously balanced gift of spice and sweet, hot and cool, Corey and Anita. 1806 Hayes St., 329-1293.
——K.W.
Caribbean Style Ceviche, Saffire
You say se-VEE-chee and I say se-VEESH. However you wrap your tongue around it, ceviche (or seviche), an appetizer of Latin American origin, is dancing on foodie tongues all over the country, and is finally making its debut on local menus. (Virago was the first to offer a ceviche of the day.) Many conservative diners turn their fish-sensitive noses up at the not-quite-accurate definition of ceviche as raw fish. Let’s clarify. Ceviche is raw fish marinated in citrus (usually lime) juice. The acid in the juice “cooks” the fish, firming the flesh and turning it opaque. It’s a matter of trust, but chef Scott Alderson, a Gulf Coast Florida boy who first made a local splash at 6º, knows his fish. Now chef and co-owner of Franklin’s Saffire, he does it Caribbean Style: Honduran conch and yellowfin tuna marinated in citrus juice with mango, red onion and cilantro. It’s not the only reason to check out Saffire—in a corner of the Factory building—but it’s a damned good one. 230 Franklin Road, 599-4995.
——K.W.
Half & Half, The Palm
Call Nashville Cow Town. These days you can’t go out your front door without being slapped in the face with a strip steak. The field is crowded: Morton’s, Ruth’s Chris, Fleming’s and The Palm form a formidable line-up of all-stars. But man does not live by steak alone. The most veteran of the national players, The Palm, in business on Second Avenue in Manhattan since 1926, and now satisfying carnivorous appetites in 20 cities around the country, knows the quickest way to a beef-lovers stomach is with plenty of grease. The Palm’s most popular side for 75 years has been the Half & Half—a heaping helping of cottage fries and French-fried onion, teamed up and going for the knock-out with a devilishly delicious one-two punch. It’s not unique to Nashville, but some things are so damned good they beg repeating. 1140 Fifth Ave. S., 742-7256.
——K.W.
