Nashville Scene - Bites

Wings of Glory: Nuttin' But Wings Opens New Location

2008-07-24 14:21:28

A couple of years ago, when I was relatively new at the Scene and still discovering the perks of employment, I was invited along on a mission to decide who had the best wings in town. I'll never forget the trip out to Clarksville Highway and Nuttin' But Wings. Their famous "Honey Hot" sauce had a stong impact on my young and impressionable mind—it was sweet, then hot, then sweet again. Magic.

So, imagine my delight when I spotted a "Coming Soon" sign for the wing joint on Charlotte Pike, just a few short blocks from the Scene's offices. I'm pretty sure the cross street was 15th; I do know that it was before the Jiffy Lube.

Check out Jim's 2006 Best of Nashville write-up after the jump.

]]> Best Hot Wings: Nuttin’ But Wings Wing joints have sprung up faster than kudzu in every strip mall from Bellevue to Antioch, but so far there’s only one Nuttin' But Wings, worth the haul out Clarksville Highway to its hard-to-see home in a small shopping center at 3538 W. Hamilton Ave. At Walter Box’s chicken coop, you’ll find uncommonly toothsome wings, neither undercooked and rubbery (a sign of hurry you get in some high-volume wing-eterias) nor overcooked until they’re hard to tell from the bone. And even the maximum heat setting, the aptly named “Nuttin’ But Hot,” doesn’t scald your tastebuds so thoroughly you can’t enjoy the tangy subtlety of the sauce—although the “Honey Hot” has even more flavor and cumulative heat. Pain was never so pleasurable. —JIM RIDLEY

What Is Wild Ginger's Growth Potential?

2008-07-24 09:39:15

In this week's review of Wild Ginger in Cool Springs, I rave about the colorful, inventive sushi and the overall gorgeousness of the building at the corner of Bakers Bridge and Market Exchange Court. The owners, working with H. Michael Hindman Architects, clearly went to a lot of expense to build a consistent identity that is reflected in the clean flavors and contemporary, organic design of their independent restaurant.

Seems to me that's exactly what you'd need to do if you wanted to replicate your restaurant concept in a few—or a few hundred—other places. Assuming Wild Ginger can deliver a consistently delicious and elegant experience, the brand could find success beyond the sprawling asphalt pastures of Cool Springs.

Coincidentally, Wild Ginger is located just a few blocks down the road from another independent restaurant that we think could have legs for branding: Basil Asian Bistro. A much smaller concept, based on Thai and Laotian cuisine, Basil's simple, sultry décor and exquisite menu—think banana leaf wraps stuffed with salmon and banana spring rolls drizzled with honey and sesame for dessert—could be shoehorned into virtually any strip mall in the country, upping the ante for Asian food in almost any neighborhood.

For now, let's see if Wild Ginger can live up to its early promise. If you get there, please report back on your experience. In the meantime, what other local independent brands would you like to see expand their reach? If the world is doomed to be paved with chains, at least they could be our own homegrown businesses.

Ouyang House Introduces Dim Sum

2008-07-23 14:59:02

The rumor is true: The year-old Ouyang House recently introduced dim sum. With a roster of Cantonese specialties, including steamed shrimp dumplings, pork shu mai, pan-fried turnip cake with spicy sauce, steamed bean curd skin roll and sweet rice wraps with chicken, dim sum is available daily. On weekends, traditional carts circulate the dining room for guests to pick and choose from the steam baskets.

Named for owner Mike Ouyang, a native of China's Fuzhou province, the restaurant hosts an extensive daily lunch buffet, with items such as jalapeno chicken, fried frog legs and stuffed crab shells. Chef David Qian, an alumnus of the bygone Shanghai Cafe and a native of Shanghai, recently joined Ouyang House. In addition to the lunch buffet, Chef Qian prepares a menu of traditional Chinese items including Shanghai-style duck, stir-fried rice cake and a seafood hot pot.

Located at 4523 Nolensville Road (Phone: 834-9989), Ouyang House is open 11 a.m. to 10 p.m. Monday through Friday and 11 a.m. to 11 p.m. on weekends.

As always, if you get there before we do, please report back on Bites.

"Closing the Food Gap" Author Winne Speaks July 24

2008-07-23 10:32:02

Anyone who has driven the four miles from the long-shuttered Edgehill Piggly Wiggly to the gleaming Whole Foods in Green Hills knows what Mark Winne is talking about when he chronicles the divide between the nutritional haves and have-nots. A journalist and food activist for 30 years, Winne traces the modern history of eating and farming that has led to a two-tiered food-supply system in the U.S. Closing the Food Gap: Resetting the Table in the Land of Plenty (2008) explores the intertwined issues of welfare, farm subsidies, supermarket deserts, food banks, obesity, diabetes, community gardens and CSAs. Drawing from experience leading the Hartford Food Service in Connecticut, Winne focuses on expanding access to healthy foods for all income levels.

Food Security Partners of Middle Tennessee hosts a free talk and signing 6 p.m. at Second Presbyterian Church, 3511 Belmont Blvd.

Garden of Breeden

2008-07-23 07:02:07

After last week’s discussion on Bites about peach ice cream, we loaded up the kids and headed to Breeden’s Orchard to pick our own peaches. The plan was to two-fold. First, we would explain to our citified offspring that peaches actually come from trees. Then we would set the tiny Foxes to work foraging.

As we pulled into the farm in Wilson County, the perfect rows of low trees laden with fruit were almost enough to break the spell of the Disney movie playing in the minivan. Unfortunately, it didn’t matter. Children are not allowed in the orchards during peach season. The delicate trees can’t hold their own against so many kids. (Sometimes I know how those trees feel.)

In any case, we perused the country store and bought a half-peck of peaches for $9, a jar of Breeden’s Orchard creamy Vidalia onion honey mustard, which I haven’t figured out how to use yet, and three fried peach pies, which were still warm in their wax-paper pouches. A smiling lady sitting behind the counter said she had been making them all day.

As the kids were piling back into the car—we promised them dinner at Cracker Barrel as a consolation prize—I bit into one of the pies. Two thin layers of crust melted across my tongue to reveal the center of sweet, smooth stewed peaches. No sickly gooey syrup, just flaky crust and fresh warm fruit that were worth the trip to Wilson County.

Next time we go to Breeden’s, we’ll tell the kids we’re going to pick peach pies. Or we’ll wait till fall, when kids are welcome in the apple orchards.

Breeden's Orchard & Country Store is located at 631 Beckwith Road, Mt. Juliet, (Phone: 449-2880). From Nashville, take I-40E to exit 226 B, which merges onto Mt. Juliet Road North. At Highway 70, turn right and go 2½ miles to Beckwith Road.

Smothered and Covered in Love

2008-07-22 16:05:27

This delicious love story comes to us via Gwinnett Daily Post in Lawrenceville, Ga. Don't miss the slideshow at the bottom of the page.

Que-Less

2008-07-22 10:00:29

When I stopped at Dee's Q the other day for a shoulder sandwich, I noticed a sign that said they'd be closed on Sundays until further notice. I asked the girl at the counter about it, and she said that owner Reggie Crowder and his daughter, restaurant namesake Dee, were recovering from "a minor heart ailment" and "minor surgery," respectively. She stressed that both are fine and just need some time to heal up. Here's wishing them both a speedy recovery, and not just because I get hungry for Dee's smoky goodness every day of the week (and twice on Sunday).

Fresh Blends Gets Juiced

2008-07-22 07:00:32

By this time next Monday, you may be sipping an açaí smoothie, fresh-squeezed carrot juice, or a Sunny Side Up breakfast cocktail of pineapple, mango, banana, oatmeal, OJ and honey. The sign and a few more finishing touches are the only things holding back the opening of Fresh Blends, East Nashville's new juice and smoothie bar, which is joining the new Ugly Mugs coffeehouse in the Walden space on Eastland Avenue across from the Eastside Portland Brew.

Co-owner/operator Tony Reall, who runs Fresh Blends with partner David Edwards, says a soft opening is tentatively scheduled for next Monday, July 28. If all goes according to plan, a grand opening will follow that Saturday, replete with giveaways, free T-shirts, gift cards, and special prizes for the very first customers to walk through the doors.

But as Reall admits, "according to plan" doesn't describe the effort that beset him and Edwards as they set out to open their first food venture.

"It was a much different process from what we imagined," says Reall, a familiar face to neighborhood residents from his work at the East Nashville YMCA. From scouring other juice bars for ideas on pricing and procedure to lining up a location and finishing the interior, two years of work have gone into Fresh Blends before the first grapefruit has even been squished.

When it opens, though, Reall says that customers can expect an assortment of juices and smoothies derived from fresh or individually quick frozen (IQF) fruits and vegetables, including locally grown organic wheatgrass. The menu promises health-nut staples such as pomegranate, green tea and açaí. (I've been meaning to ask Claudia if she's noticed any benefits from the açaí, or if the Brazilian berry is all hype—pulp fiction, as it were.)

So why is East Nashville hopping with restaurant activity while numerous places have closed across the river in recent months? Don't know, but Reall and Edwards both say that their fellow East Nashville restaurateurs and small-business owners have been generous with time and advice. Perhaps a rising tide of juice and coffee raises all boats.

Fresh Blends is located at 1888 Eastland Ave. If you want a peek at the location, an exterior photo of Reall, his dog Macey and Edwards follows after the jump.

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Hot Chicken Festival: A Cluck Back

2008-07-21 13:29:48

In a comment posted today on our July 3 entry about Nashville's second Music City Hot Chicken Festival, held July 4 at East Nashville's East Park, reader S L asked today for some kind of recap: winners, turnout, etc. I'll be happy to oblige—and to pose some questions about the future of this (paradoxically) cool event.

The big winner this year was Justin Jones, whose bright cartoon "Soda Pong" used to run in the Scene. It was great to finally meet him and shake his (rubber-gloved, cayenne-scented) hand. I did not get to sample Team Soda Pong's bird, but the remains had vestiges of pitch-black, pepper-scorched crust that looked mighty tempting. Justin said he would send us the recipe, stressing that he was not an expert, and that lots of trial and error had gone into it. But he also said it was every Nashvillian's duty to try and propagate the hot-chicken mythos by at least giving the fiery fowl a whirl.

The event looked like a huge success, with big happy (if hungry) crowds, more activities, and the welcome addition of a Yazoo beer tent. Better still, there were at least double the number of food booths, with newcomers such as Dee's Q, Otter's and Murfreesboro's The Chicken Shack alongside Prince's, Bolton's and 400 Degrees. A booth dispensing watermelon was a nice Independence Day touch. (A nice report can be found at Nashville Restaurants, where we stole the image above.)

The insurmountable problem, though, is that the slow cooking hot chicken requires puts it completely at odds with the nature of a festival. The lines at the food booths move at a crawl; replenishment takes forever. But who wants to rush chicken?

The other major problem, ironically enough, is the heat. I know logistically (and philosophically) that the Fourth of July makes sense, but summer temperatures keep a lot of folks even from going to Prince's in months without an "R." One humble suggestion: move the festivities to LP Field. Not only does it have ample parking, it can accommodate thousands of people and a large-scale cooking event indoors, as Iron Fork proved.

Obviously, the visible boost in attendance this year and the growth of the event showed that the Hot Chicken Festival is becoming, er, a feather in the city's cap. But how to serve more people without ruining the chicken's unique properties—the whole reason for the festival, after all—and how to make it more comfortable? These conundrums require the full power of the Bites brain trust.

Murder Most Fowl

2008-07-21 10:16:23

Bless me, Chef Thomas Keller, for I have sinned.

Heeding your story of slaughtering rabbits in The French Laundry Cookbook, I set out to be more deliberate about my ingredients. Your tale of squealing bunnies spurred me to savor the connections among animals, vegetables, the environment and my own nutrition. I joined a CSA, and things went well. I ate dirt-flavored beets and started growing sweet corn in my back yard. I ordered a grass-fed pasture-raised chicken from Au Naturel Farm in Kentucky (pictured above), which took two weeks to arrive.

With great intentions, I put the long-awaited bird in the refrigerator to thaw, envisioning a meal of locally grown veggies and fresher-than-fresh chemical-free meat. But the next day it was still a bird-cicle, so I begrudgingly drove through Wendy's for nuggets. The next night, it was still icy, so I went to Five Guys. A busy week of swim lessons, birthday parties and babysitters led my family through a nutritional spanking machine of frozen pizza, mac-and-cheese and SpaghettiOs, and every day the bird got pushed farther back on the shelf, behind crumpled Capri Suns and half-eaten Happy Meals.

When I finally got around to the chicken again, it had thawed, but it had also been out of the freezer for a good 12 days. I googled “chicken storage.” The Rachael Ray-loving basement-dwellers who blog about poultry protocol all seem to agree that chicken should not be out of the freezer for more than a day or two.

Grasping at straws, I checked the sell-by date on the package, to see if maybe coddled fowl could linger longer than factory-farm graduates. Jesus! This bird cost $20! Knowing that, I would cook it anyway—possibly test it out on the children.

My husband vetoed.

Surrendering to my sin, I unsheathed the carcass from its clear-plastic body bag and held it over the kitchen sink. As rose-colored chicken juice dripped into the garbage disposal, I gazed at the pimply plucked skin that would have been so delectable broiled and basted in its own juices. Just then, the muscle-bound neck slid out of the body cavity and plonked onto the floor of the sink. I think I heard a rabbit squeal.

I dropped the pale, headless bird and its now-free-range neck into the trash and reached for a can of SpaghettiOs, which I prepared in shame.

I did not recycle the can.

For these and all the sins of my kitchen I am sorry.