Something's Wrong if Pie Doesn't Give You Complete Happiness

My dad started working here at Arnold's Country Kitchen in Nashville, Tennessee back when it used to be called Lynn Chandler's Cafeteria. Lynn Chandler owned it along with a few other restaurants like Elliston Place Soda Shop, but this place was his non-money maker. My dad came in and started running it. Within a year or two, he had turned the place around, so when it started breaking even, Lynn wanted to get rid of it. So, my dad approached him about buying it, but he didn't have enough money. He mentioned it to one of the regulars who came in for breakfast every morning, and the next day, the regular came back in and handed a check to my dad.

This was back in 1981. He took it over and eventually made the menu his. And now, I guess I kinda do that around here.

We've got the best customers in the world: everybody from federal judges to movie stars to a guy who's living at the mission, hard on his luck. We've got a lot of people from the railroad system who come through from different cities and they've sent other people over here. We get every walk of life. We're not a five-star dining restaurant, but that's what we love about our food. We've had customers come in and work the line before when my dad was short handed. That's kind of how Nashville is.

If you've never been here before, come in hungry. This is a place where the locals will tell you if something's wrong with our food. Today's meatloaf day. A lot of our customers have been coming in forever, so when they feel like they can say something about what's up with the food, we listen. Five out of ten times, they might be onto something. When people leave here, we want them to feel like they have found a gem; a diamond in the rough. I want them to leave feeling like they're at their family's table or it's Thanksgiving all the time.

Our pies are one of my favourite things on the menu. The chocolate meringue pie—the one my dad used to take to the state fair all the time—came from my mom's chocolate ice cream recipe. When he won first place, he brought the plaque full of ribbons into the restaurant and I was so embarrassed, I was like "Dad, it's pie. You gotta get this out of here."

Of course he was all proud of his first place state ribbons. He should have been. Nowadays, there's a young lady who makes half of the pies and I make the other half. And Deborah, the one who cuts them up, has been doing it forever. She puts them all together at the end of the counter in the display, but she definitely has had her hand in pie ideas. It's a collaboration of many minds.

I think the key to a good pie is one that you put in your mouth and it wows you. If you don't experience feelings of happiness, somethings wrong. Unexpected happiness—that's what a really good pie can do to you. Everybody's different though. You've got to find the perfect pie for the perfect person.

As told to Danielle Atkins