No. 418: Soul of the West (Nashville)

It was always perplexing to hear the words “NashVegas,” thrown around by locals on my first trip to Nashville back in 2004. I didn’t understand what this city of rolling hills with a head-scratching layout had to do with the neon beams bursting through the desert in the middle of nowhere, Nevada. Then I eventually made it to Broadway – where I still didn’t understand what it had to with Vegas – but came to realize the reveling and debauchery that goes on down there had its own kind of Hillbilly Hollywood mixed with Nevada neon. My trip to Soul, a restaurant, bar, and club on the west side of Nashville at 6317 Charlotte Pike about to celebrate its one-year anniversary, was actually the closest I’ve come to feel like I was in an off-strip Vegas hookah lounge, where the karaoke might be exceptional, and the food is anyone’s guess.

The minute I stepped through the door, past the neon “feed your soul” sign and the plastic tropical plants outside, I felt like I had slipped into a dream. A mix of greenery and neon-filled the room, multi-colored lights swirled around the ceilings and the sultry sounds of Sade boomed from the speakers with ample low end. The main dining room is surrounded by large booths with plenty of room for hookah, while flatscreens line the walls. To the back is a stage where bands play on weekend nights and Sunday brunch, and where karaoke takes place on Tuesdays. This is a place to come disappear for a few hours and forget about your troubles and maybe, forget about what city you’re in for a while. What I wasn’t sure about was is this a place to eat. I’d had two people recommend the place to me for different reasons: “There are some dope-ass bands who play there,” and “you’ve gotta try the smoked fried chicken.” I love smoked chicken and fried chicken so I was game for a mashup (even though I could smell Popeye’s from the parking lot, a few doors down.)

What I learned about the exercise is that chicken should either be smoked or fried, not both. There was a dryness and lack of seasoning to the meat that just couldn’t be saved by dunking it into a frier or cast-iron pan. The skin was ok – it is chicken skin after all, one of the most delicious things on the planet – but there was a lack of crust or texture to the whole package that made me realize this chicken was having a bit of an identity crisis. It couldn’t figure out whether to be smoked chicken or fried chicken, opting for some middle ground that tasted more like heating up day-old smoked chicken by sautéing it in a pan of oil. For $25, I’m expecting a little more than that. The three sides that came with it: rice, beans in a rich broth, and stewed cabbage were adequate, but the whole plate lacked depth and needed salt, which Soul provides in the way of pink Himalayan Sea salt grinders on every table. A wrinkle my tastebuds were thankful for.

My advice to anyone interested in checking out Soul – and I do recommend it as a fun venue, hangout spot, a place to let go and vibe out for a while – is to stick to the tried-and-true fried bar food. Taking a bag of breaded pickles, fries or catfish out of the freezer and dunking it into a frier may not be high art, but it’s usually delicious, as were the fried pickles.

One thing to take note: many of the online reviews have mentioned the 18 percent service charge added to the check without any warning and the lack of a printed check. Handheld point-of-sale systems have become so common it can be difficult to figure out why your bill may be higher than you anticipated. As to whether this 18 percent charge was going to my server, I wasn’t really sure, and neither was she. There was an option to add a higher percentage but neither one of us was sure where that percentage was going. It would behoove management to clear that up or at least make it a point to mention the service charge when presenting the bill or approaching the table with the handheld point-of-sale.

The idea of “soul” – often an intangible descriptor used to describe music, food, cooking, and other arts – can be hard to pin down. Sometimes you just have to go with the feeling and not get too wrapped up in the details. I wouldn’t go to Soul to spend much money on entrees or splurge on the lobster ravioli. But I’ll go back to hang out and get lost in the music and the vibe, and as the neon sign that hung next to my head said: “let your soul glow.”

From Mike Wolf