Prince’s Hot Chicken

After checking out of my stay at 1 Hotel Nashville, it was time to meet my dear friend Traci and her partner Matt for lunch.

Since it was my first time in the city, Traci insisted we experience one of Nashville’s most iconic dishes: hot chicken. She had already given me two options: Hattie B’s – a local staple. Or, Prince’s Hot Chicken – the originator of it all.

I didn’t hesitate. Prince’s it was. Conveniently, it was close to my hotel. So I left my car in valet, checked my suitcase at the front desk for storage and rode with Traci and Matt to the downtown spot inside Assembly Food Hall.

Finding Prince’s Hot Chicken, I felt a strong sense of anticipatory excitement.

After a short wait, I stepped up to the counter and ordered what I figured was the best way to sample the classic: 4 tenders with fries (medium spice), plus ranch and honey mustard for dipping. To cool things off, I added a glass of their house-made strawberry lemonade.

We grabbed seats at an area bar for a bit more comfort than the communal picnic benches. I was buzzing with anticipation. I mean, this was Nashville hot chicken – the real deal. I’d already braved Howlin’ Ray’s in California, so I thought I knew what was coming. Add to that the fact that both sides of my family are Southern Black heritage – I like my food seasoned, and I season it well – so surely, I could handle it.

The first bites were perfect. Piping hot, flavorful, and absolutely delicious. I even leaned over to Traci and said – with complete confidence – “This medium isn’t as hot as y’all make it out to be.”

She just smiled and said. “Just wait.”

Sure enough, the heat began to creep up on me. I sipped the lemonade and said “everything is fine” to myself.

At one point, I eyed the slice of white bread under the chicken -soaked in a suspicious pool of spice – and thought, why not? I tore off a piece, tucked in some chicken, and went for it.

All I could say was – I did that to myself.

As my eye immediately welled with tears, my mouth became inflamed. It was that moment that I realized how Nashville spices truly differ from other cuisines. Nashville spices are jalapeño forward. For my taste buds, this means the heat translates into a sharp lingering burning sensation in my mouth –  and hot chicken defeat that hurt my feelings.

I was humbled. This was a completely different sense of spice that I had with the Barbecue Beef Rump With Green Tomato Relish & Hyssop  at the Smoking Goat in London. Thai spices – for me – are more well rounded in the heat and flavor profile.

No, jalapeño forward spices are a completely different body sensation. No – this was something else entirely. Truly, a tear – inducing spice that gave me a rush of being alive.

I downed water like a river running dry.

And yet, every bit of it was worth it. To share the moment, the laughs, and the food with Traci and Matt was an experience I’ll always be grateful for.

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