green beans, all of which Wilson makes from scratch. “We knew
when we opened that we wanted to serve a home-cooked meal,”
says Wilson. “This is where everyone could come to have a good
time.”
During pecan season, customers are known to bring Wilson
fresh pecans from their own trees, which she turns into her classic
pecan pie. When she makes chowchow, that punchy peppery
Southern relish, customers come with jars to fill from her master
batch.
Clearly, for Wilson, cooking big is a way to constantly
surround herself with people. And nothing works better on that
front than turning on the deep fryer and adding chicken.
Wilson’s fried chicken is pretty remarkable in its simplicity.
Pieces of chicken are seasoned with salt and pepper and allowed to
sit for a few hours. Then Wilson takes each piece of chicken,
dunks it in water, and rolls it around in all-purpose flour. The
water has two functions: it rinses off excess seasoning and it helps
the flour stick. She places the chicken in 370-degree oil and cooks
it for twenty minutes.
“Don’t drop the chicken in,” she warns. “Place it in.”
When the chicken comes out, it’s covered in a crispy, crackly
golden crust. She serves me up a plate with more chicken than I
can eat, a huge heap of her vegetarian collard greens, a spoonful of
the spicy chowchow, and, like a trophy on top, a hot piece of corn
bread. Wilson handing me this plate feels like a big hug.
And a big hug is what I get when it’s time to leave.