I grew up in New Orleans eating food that most people outside Louisiana consider spicy, and I thought I could handle heat. A healthy dose of Crystal hot sauce on my eggs, a few shakes of cayenne in the gumbo, the occasional raw jalapeno on a po-boy. I was wrong about my tolerance, and Nashville corrected me in the most painful way possible. I ordered the hot chicken at Prince's Hot Chicken Shack, the place that claims to have invented the dish, and asked for the medium heat level because the woman at the counter looked at me with genuine concern when I glanced at the hot option. The chicken arrived on a slice of white bread with a single dill pickle, and it looked innocent enough. Golden brown, crispy crust, no visible pepper flakes. I picked it up and took a bite. The first second was fine, just crispy fried chicken, well-seasoned, juicy. Then the heat arrived, not all at once but in a wave that started at the back of my throat and spread outward. My eyes watered. My nose ran. I took another bite. It was the best fried chicken I have ever had, and I could barely feel my lips.
Prince's has been serving hot chicken since the 1930s, when the story goes that Thornton Prince's girlfriend poured cayenne into his fried chicken as revenge for his late nights out, and he liked it so much he started serving it at his restaurant. The original location on Jefferson Street is a small, unassuming building with a counter and a few stools. You order at the window, wait for your number, and eat at one of the metal tables outside or take it to go. The chicken is fried to order, which means a wait of fifteen to twenty minutes, and it arrives still hot enough to burn the roof of your mouth even without the spice. The heat comes from a paste of cayenne and lard that is brushed onto the chicken after frying, coating the crispy crust in a thin, red-orange layer of spice and fat. The bread underneath absorbs the spice oil and the pickle provides a cool, sour counterpoint. The combination of crispy, spicy, fatty, sour, and soft is what makes the dish work. Remove any one of those elements and it falls apart.
My second stop was Hattie B's, which opened in 2012 and has since expanded to multiple locations. Hattie B's is cleaner, brighter, and more approachable than Prince's, with a full dining room and a menu that spells out the heat levels explicitly. Mild, medium, hot, damn hot, and shut the cluck up. I ordered hot this time, one step up from my Prince's order, and it was noticeably less intense than the medium at Prince's. The chicken itself was excellent, with a thick, shaggy crust and juicy meat, but the spice was more of a background warmth than the searing, forward heat I experienced at Prince's. The coleslaw was creamy and cold, the mac and cheese was decent, and the atmosphere was lively. Hattie B's is the kind of place you bring tourists who want to try hot chicken but are nervous about the heat. It is a good introduction. It is not the full experience.
The third place was Bolton's Spicy Chicken and Fish, a carryout spot on Nolensville Pike that locals talk about with a reverence usually reserved for religious experiences. Bolton's does not have a website. It does not have a heat scale. You order at the counter and specify how hot you want it in plain language. I told the man behind the counter that I had eaten at Prince's and Hattie B's, and he nodded slowly and said, "I'll give you the regular hot." I appreciated that he did not try to impress me or scare me. The chicken arrived in a styrofoam container, again on white bread with pickles, and the first bite told me everything. Bolton's crust is thinner and crisper than both Prince's and Hattie B's, almost like the coating on extra-crispy KFC but with actual flavor. The heat was immediate and intense, on par with Prince's medium, but it had a different quality. Where Prince's heat is sharp and cayenne-forward, Bolton's is deeper, with a warmth that builds and lingers. The chicken itself was the juiciest of the three, with a seasoning blend that included more black pepper than the other two.
After three days of hot chicken in Nashville, my stomach was not happy but my opinion of the dish had crystallized. It is not a gimmick or a novelty. It is a serious piece of Southern cooking that requires good fried chicken as its foundation and a specific kind of spicing technique that is harder to get right than it looks. The cayenne-lard paste is the key, because it allows the spice to adhere to the crust without making it soggy, and the fat carries the heat to your mouth more effectively than dry spice alone. Prince's has the history and the most intense heat. Bolton's has the best crust and the most balanced flavor. Hattie B's is the most accessible. If you have time for one, go to Bolton's. If you want the story, go to Prince's. Either way, order the coleslaw and the sweet tea, and do not lie to the person at the counter about how much heat you can handle.
