A few summers ago, my dad and I recreated the Oregon Trail by car (more on that in a later post). The first leg of our trip took us to Nashville, where we ate hot chicken at Hattie B’s for the very first time.
If you’re not familiar with Hattie B’s, let me paint a picture for you. It’s a small restaurant situated in a walkable, hip area. They’re open for lunch and dinner and have a limited menu- just various cuts of chicken and a few sides.
Hattie B’s is famous for their hot chicken. Hot chicken is, essentially, fried chicken covered in a secret mouthwatering blend of spices. People (us included!) wait in line for hours to get a taste. You may be asking yourself: Is it really worth waiting 3 hours for some chicken?
Yes, dear reader. It most certainly is.
We waited in line on a late July evening. We talked and laughed and got to know the people in line around us. The line inched up slowly, but we didn’t mind. We finally made it up to the counter. We each ordered hot chicken (dark meat for me, white meat for dad)- we decided to go with “medium” because- how hot could it really be?
We took our well earned cold beers back to a picnic table outside and waited for our destiny. The chicken arrived in a basket with a piece of white bread underneath and a sweet pickle on top. We dove in.
It was hot, y’all.
Not “kinda spicy,” more like “I am sweating through my shirt” spicy. It was glorious. We looked at each other and looked around at the other diners. Everyone was having a version of the same “my mouth is on fire but I want to keep eating!” reaction.
We ate the whole basket of chicken, enjoying every minute of it.
There’s a great debate about who has the best hot chicken, where the original hot chicken was invented, whether or not you should have a side with it- you name it, people have opinions on it. Hot chicken has a cult like following now- people are always in search of a hotter, better version.
All I can say is, if you’re ever in Nashville, give Hattie B’s a try. You won’t be disappointed.
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