SHARE

If you’ve followed my journey on social media, then you know I had a chance to visit Nashville, TN last weekend. I was determined to make my way through the music city in search of this thing called hot chicken. It’s really a thing and apparently my first stop at Hattie B’s was the wrong stop. Soooooo, according to the locals, I had to go to Prince’s. Rumor has it that this is the place where it all started. It was only right that I make my way there, right?

For starters, be prepared for a few things. The joint is definitely in a sketchy part of town. Don’t expect roses and a welcoming center when you arrive. I’m from the Westside of Chicago, so when I drove up, it instantly reminded me of one of the chicken shacks back home. When you walk in, there are no thrills or frills. There’s a window that you walk up to and place your order. Typically, there’s a long line, so be prepared to wait. There isn’t much to choose from besides chicken and a handful of sides. So, chicken is really what you’re there to get. They come in varying levels of spice. I over heard someone say that the mild had a nice kick to it. As a hot chicken virgin, that’s how I wanted my cherry popped…mildly.

I placed my order and the waiting began. It takes quite a while to get your food. I started a conversation with a white guy and his girlfriend. They’d apparently made the drive from Atlanta that evening for this hot chicken. They said they were going right back to Atlanta after dinner. I’ve done lots of things for food. I have to say, driving 3 hours each way isn’t one of them. But hey, to each his (or her) own. I did notice that the white guy was gasping for air. My assumption was that he picked a spicier version. I let my thoughts drift a bit more.

After about twenty minutes more, my number was called. I had ordered a quarter dark and a quarter white. I guess you could call it a half – lol. I went back to the table, sat down with my two Diet Pepsis (on a diet) and began to break open the goodness. Hot chicken is super hard to explain to those who haven’t had it before. It’s fried chicken. It’s distinct crispy skin, seasoned flour, and juicy flesh takes me back to what real chicken is supposed to taste like. But, then there’s this hot oil that they dip it in. It’s weird because you’d think it’d make the skin soggy, but it didn’t. The skin was still crispy…just oily and spicy. It’s a great combination. The flavors really popped and I’m glad I got the mild kind. It was hot enough without being too hot. I did notice there was an after seasoning they sprinkled over the chicken too – some kind of seasoned salt mixture. It added flavor, so I didn’t mind. The average eye wouldn’t have noticed it, but hey, I don’t have the average eye. You can’t sneak too many things past me.

I could taste the 40 years of history in each bite. Black folks doing fried chicken the same way since forever is really what this place was about. I can see why the locals go crazy of Prince’s Hot Chicken. Oh…and I was able to snap a selfie with the owner of the joint, Andre Prince Jeffries. Her family has been cranking out the fried yard bird for decades. I’m glad I had a chance to meet her!

2 COMMENTS

LEAVE A REPLY