Although we are visiting Nashville to celebrate Christmas with family, somehow we also have time to try out the local cuisine. Yesterday was lunch at Arnold’s Country Kitchen, a local institution that specializes in “meat and threes”–one meat and three sides. You can also order “meat and twos” if you have a little self control. The meal always comes with corn bread.

The basic premise of the meat and three meal is similar to that of plate lunch on Hawaii where your choice of protein (kalua pork or chicken katsu, for example) comes with “two scoops rice” and macaroni salad.

When planning your meat and three menu, it’s smart but almost impossible to save room for pie–pecan pie, chess pie, chocolate cream pie, bread pudding, and banana pudding. The staff at Arnold’s cunningly lays out the pieces of pie at the head of the line rather than the end, so it doesn’t seem quite the indulgence to place it on your empty tray.



What is chess pie? For all you Northerners, chess pie is basically pecan pie without the pecans. In other words, a custard filling made out of eggs, butter, brown sugar, corn syrup or sometimes corn meal.

When I lived in Memphis during high school, I recall eating and loving a chocolate version of chess pie. This is not a pie that you find outside of the South, and when I mention it elsewhere, no one has ever even heard of it.

Monday choices of meat at Arnold’s:rare roast beef, fried liver and onions, kielbasa and kraut, fried chick,en and blackened tilapia. We opt for the liver and onions because we never eat liver at home. The liver is a thin strip, like a pounded veal cutlet. Cooked within an inch of its life, the liver still manages to be tender and chewable. The quantity and taste of the brown, limp onions is just right against the meaty liver. Oh boy, we are in trouble; this won’t be the last time we eat liver and onions I’m afraid.

I foolishly and accidentally order only two sides–mac and cheese and turnip greens, leaving uneaten creamed corn, mashed potatoes, fried apples, pinto beans, green beans, and other delights. Sigh. What was I thinking? I was so busy contemplating my third choice that the man serving up the food behind the counter thought I only wanted two sides. My hesitation has cost me dearly!

The mac and cheese is creamy, cheesy and has a slight crunchy breadcrumb crust, as well as a bite to it. Cayenne pepper maybe? The turnip greens deliver a kick, too, fueled by vinegar and mustard if my taste buds can be trusted. Like the liver, the turnip greens have been cooked to excess but miraculously haven’t descended into a tangled mess of blue green algae. Instead, they are toothsome (thank you, Shakespeare, for inventing the word) and almost crunchy.

I’m gratified by the cornbread, which comes in the form of small muffins. They are crunchy on the outside and grainy on the inside. Most important, they taste savory not sweet, unlike so much cornbread at restaurants that is soft, fluffy and sweet–more like cake than bread.

When I lived in Memphis, my step father, a country boy from Arkansas, liked to take us to eat at the Bunton Cafe, a down home restaurant that had this same type of food. They made cornbread as corn sticks, cooked in special cast iron corn stick pans.

Let me tell you right now that corn sticks provide the perfect ratio of external brown crunch to delicious yellow interior. Corn sticks are much better than cornbread baked as a muffin or in a pan and cut into pieces.

I can’t stress enough how important it is to create a crust on your cornbread. The best way to do this is to use an iron pan or iron skillet and heat it up in the oven before you pour in the batter. This does the trick. It’s easy but hardly anyone does it any more.



One last suggestion: take your iced tea unsweetened. The nice lady at the cash register tells me that the glasses on the left are unsweetened. Sweet tea will knock you on your ass if you’re not careful, although I guess you could argue that it helps cut through the fat and balance out the rest of your meal.



We arrived at Arnold’s right before noon and zipped through the cafeteria line without delay. Instant gratification. By the time we left an hour later, there was a line almost out the door.



Everybody comes to Arnold’s: businessmen in jackets, extended families, students from Vanderbilt, tradespeople and day laborers, and of course, us tourists. The staff slaving over the steam trays are friendly and helpful but they keep things moving as the line builds up.