Tennessee's oldest restaurant sits in a modest storefront on Murfreesboro's town square, where City Cafe has served meals continuously since 1900… or does it? Nashville's Varallo's, founded in 1907, begs to differ, and this friendly rivalry over who's truly the oldest hints at something bigger: Tennessee's historic restaurants aren't just places to grab lunch, they're time machines disguised as dining rooms.
The great Tennessee restaurant rivalry
Before we dive into the fried chicken and secret chili recipes, let's address the elephant in the dining room. The battle for Tennessee's "oldest restaurant" title is basically a century-old version of "my dad could beat up your dad."
City Cafe opened its doors on February 10, 1900, when brothers Henry and Dorsey Cantrell decided Murfreesboro needed what they modestly called "Rutherford County's Pride." The Cantrells had an interesting business model: bottle milk upstairs, serve meals downstairs. Though according to historical records, that upstairs operation later transformed into what we'll politely call a "gambling and drinking venue." Nothing says small-town Tennessee quite like moonshine and poker above the meatloaf special.
Meanwhile, Frank Varallo Sr. had a different story. This Italian immigrant worked as an interpreter at Ellis Island until a hunting accident ended his violin career (because of course every good restaurant story needs a tragic violin backstory). He started selling chili from a cart in a Nashville saloon corner, and by 1907, his recipe proved so popular he opened Varallo's Chile Parlor on Broadway.
Here's the kicker: Jim Varallo once admitted the original chili was "so spicy you had to be drunk to eat it." Which, considering it started in a saloon, was probably not a bug but a feature.
Today, City Cafe operates under Teresa and Rollin Kellogg, who describe it as the place "to hear all the gossip" where "you come in as stranger and leave as family." Varallo's, now owned by Bob Peabody after 112 years of family ownership, remains Nashville's last chili parlor. Yes, chili parlors used to be a thing, rivaling honky-tonks for popularity. The more you know.
Middle Tennessee: Where hot chicken was born from spite
Nashville and the surrounding area host some of Tennessee's most legendary establishments, each with stories that sound made up but aren't.
The revenge that launched a thousand chicken joints
Let's talk about Nashville hot chicken, shall we? The origin story reads like a country song written backwards. Around 1935, Thornton Prince stayed out all night doing… well, what folks did when they stayed out all night in 1935. His girlfriend, in a move that would make today's petty revenge subreddits proud, served him fried chicken absolutely nuclear with cayenne pepper.
Plot twist: Prince loved it.
He loved it so much he perfected the recipe and opened Prince's BBQ Chicken Shack. During segregation, the restaurant built a separate room for white guests who had to walk through the main dining room and kitchen to reach it. Talk about separate but definitely not equal… the white folks were missing out on the atmosphere.
André Prince Jeffries, Thornton's great-niece, took over in 1980 and dropped "BBQ" from the name because, let's face it, this was never about barbecue. Under her leadership, Prince's earned the 2013 James Beard American Classic Award and inspired approximately 47,000 hot chicken imitators nationwide. General Manager Tamara Kelly calls it "the gold standard of Nashville Hot Chicken," and she's not wrong.
The Loveless Cafe: Biscuit mathematics
In 1951, Lon and Annie Loveless looked at their four-room home on Highway 100 and thought, "You know what this needs? Strangers eating in it." They converted it into a restaurant serving fried chicken and biscuits to travelers heading between Nashville and Memphis.
The numbers here are staggering:
- Up to 10,000 biscuits made daily
- Over half a million guests annually
- Zero changes to Annie's original recipe
USA Today declared these "miraculously flaky and feathery biscuits" as Nashville's second-most important contribution to American culture. (First place? We're all thinking it, but nobody's saying it out loud.)
More Nashville treasures worth your cholesterol
The Elliston Place Soda Shop has had more lives than a cat with a trust fund. Founded by Lynn Chandler in 1939, it survived 81 years before closing in 2019 due to financial struggles. The Giarratana family then pulled a phoenix move, purchasing and relocating it to the historic Cumberland Telephone Exchange building next door.
Jimmy Buffett became a regular when Exit/In opened next door in 1971, because apparently Margaritaville starts with a good milkshake. The shop also witnessed a quiet moment of desegregation history when Howard Gentry, as a boy in the 1960s, bought an ice cream cone there without incident.
Then there's Arnold's Country Kitchen, where the meat-and-three tradition reaches its apotheosis. Jack and Rose Arnold never meant to start a restaurant… they just kept cooking family meals in their tavern corner, and people kept offering them money. Sometimes the best businesses are accidents. James Beard agreed, giving them an American Classic Award.
At Swett's Restaurant, founded in 1954, not a single recipe is written down. Everything passes through oral tradition across three generations. It's like a delicious game of telephone that somehow never goes wrong.
Memphis: Elvis ate here (and here, and here)
Memphis takes its food history seriously, and by seriously, I mean they've installed multiple historical markers at restaurants and turned basement coal chutes into barbecue shrines.
The Arcade Restaurant: Greek Revival meets the King
In 1919, Greek immigrant Speros Zepatos built The Arcade Restaurant, cooking on potbelly stoves in a wooden structure. Six years later, in a move that would make HGTV jealous, he tore the whole thing down and built the current Greek Revival building complete with retail stores to justify the "Arcade" name.
The Arcade serves over 50 Elvis sandwiches daily on busy weekends. The King himself used to enter through the back door to avoid attention, though honestly, Elvis trying to be inconspicuous in Memphis is like a flamingo trying to blend in at a penguin convention.
The restaurant has served as a film location for "Mystery Train," "Walk the Line," and five other movies. Those boomerang-pattern table tops have seen more action than most Hollywood sets. Today, fourth-generation owners Jeff and Kelcie Zepatos maintain the tradition, including that famous fried peanut butter and banana sandwich that makes cardiologists weep and Elvis fans pilgrim.
Charlie Vergos' Rendezvous: The basement that changed barbecue
Here's a million-dollar restaurant idea: sell ham sandwiches and beer in a basement. That's what Charlie Vergos, son of Greek immigrants, did in 1948 when he started Rendezvous. Not exactly revolutionary, right?
But then in 1958, Charlie discovered an old coal chute in the basement corner. Instead of thinking "structural problem," he thought "smoker opportunity." When employee "Little John" suggested trying pork ribs, Charlie created what barbecue historian Robert F. Moss calls "the standard for 'Memphis style' barbecue ribs."
The secret? Cook them 18 inches from charcoal fire for exactly 1 hour and 15 minutes, then hit them with a Greek-inspired dry rub based on his father's chili recipe. When Elvis wanted to rent the entire restaurant, Charlie said no. So they just couriered ribs to Graceland and overnighted them to Vegas when Elvis performed there. Because that's totally normal.
East Tennessee: The mountains are alive with the sound of sizzling
Knoxville's restaurant scene tells the story of Greek immigrants who basically cornered the market on feeding East Tennessee.
The rise and fall of Regas
Brothers Frank and George Regas opened the Ocean Café on July 7, 1919, starting with 18 stools and 24-hour service near the Southern Railway Station. By its closure in 2011 after 92 years, Regas Restaurant seated 350 in the main dining room plus 100 in The Gathering Place lounge. It was the kind of place where deals were made, anniversaries celebrated, and everyone pretended the ocean was closer than 500 miles away.
The survivors
The Original Freezo, opened in 1951 in the Happy Holler neighborhood (yes, that's really what it's called), might be Knoxville's oldest surviving restaurant. With no indoor seating and cash-only service, it's basically unchanged since Eisenhower. They serve soft-serve ice cream and hot tamales "in the old Knoxville fashion," which is a combination that makes sense after your third beer.
Long's Drugstore represented another vanishing breed: the pharmacy lunch counter. Founded by Clarence Long in 1956, it featured an authentic soda fountain where cherry Cokes were made to order, not squirted from a machine like some barbarian establishment. It survived 68 years before closing in 2024, unable to compete with corporate pharmacy chains that think "lunch" means sad pre-wrapped sandwiches.
Pizza Palace deserves special mention. When Greek brothers Al, Gus, and Arthur Peroulas opened it in 1961, skeptics said a menu of just pizza, onion rings, and secret spaghetti sauce wouldn't work. Guy Fieri disagreed, featuring it on "Diners, Drive-Ins & Dives" in 2007. The Peroulas family calls it their "American dream" story, and honestly, if your American dream involves secret spaghetti sauce, you're doing it right.
Chattanooga: Small city, big flavors
Chattanooga's historic restaurants tell stories of immigrant families, regional innovation, and at least one footlong hot dog that refuses to change.
Zarzour's Cafe: A century of sass
Lebanese immigrants Charlie and Nazeera Zarzour founded Zarzour's Café in 1918, planning to operate a store in front and live in back. Tragedy struck two months later when Nazeera died in the flu epidemic, leaving Charlie to raise five children alone. The restaurant operated continuously for 105 years under family ownership, becoming famous for cheeseburgers "served with a side of sass."
In 2023, the family sold to new owners who plan to maintain its character while adding a bar. Because nothing says "maintaining character" like adding alcohol to sass.
Krystal: The South's slider empire
Before White Castle could claim total burger dominion, Krystal planted its flag in Chattanooga on October 24, 1932. Entrepreneurs Rody Davenport Jr. and J. Glenn Sherrill named it after a crystal ball lawn ornament, which is somehow both the weirdest and most Southern origin story possible.
The first customer, French Jenkins, ordered six Krystals and coffee for 35 cents. Notable fans included Elvis (because of course) and President Reagan, who made an unscheduled Air Force One stop for Krystal burgers. Nothing says "leader of the free world" like diverting Air Force One for sliders.
What to eat (and how to eat it)
Let's get practical. You're planning a historic restaurant road trip through Tennessee, and you need to know what to order. Here's your cheat sheet:
The must-order dishes at each stop:
- City Cafe: Daily specials and local gossip
- Varallo's: Three-way chili (don't ask, just eat)
- Prince's Hot Chicken: Start medium, work your way up
- Loveless Cafe: Fried chicken and those 10,000 daily biscuits
- Arcade Restaurant: The Elvis sandwich (fried PB&B)
- Rendezvous: Dry-rub ribs from the coal chute
- Pizza Palace: Pizza with secret spaghetti sauce
- Miss Griffin's: Footlong with secret relish
Survival tips for historic restaurant touring:
- Cash is still king at some spots
- Peak hours mean tourist crowds
- Parking can be… creative
- Some close Sundays (it's the South)
- Reservations help at famous spots
- Local recommendations beat Yelp reviews
- Portions are not Instagram-sized
- Sweet tea comes standard
The struggle is real (estate)
These restaurants face modern challenges that would make their founders' heads spin. Rising real estate values threaten locations like Nikki's Drive-Inn in Chattanooga, which sold for $1.58 million for redevelopment. Because apparently, we need another mixed-use development more than we need history.
Family succession creates its own drama. Varallo's sold to non-family ownership after 112 years. Zarzour's negotiated its sale after a century of family control. These aren't just business transactions… they're the end of eras.
Yet many adapt and thrive. The Loveless Cafe serves those half-million guests annually while keeping Annie's biscuit recipe untouched. Prince's Hot Chicken expanded to multiple locations including the Nashville airport, because nothing says "Welcome to Nashville" like setting your mouth on fire at 7 AM.
Why any of this matters
Look, we could all eat at chains. They're predictable, convenient, and nobody's grandma is going to judge your order. But Tennessee's historic restaurants offer something you can't get from a corporate test kitchen: actual history, served with a side of story.
These places survived the Great Depression, two world wars, integration, interstate highways, and the rise of fast food. They've fed Elvis, inspired James Beard, and turned family recipes into regional traditions. They're where Greek immigrants redefined Southern barbecue, where hot chicken was born from spite, and where biscuit recipes become sacred texts.
More importantly, they're still here, still cooking, still serving locals and tourists alike. In an era of ghost kitchens and meal kits, they're stubbornly physical, inefficiently human, and gloriously imperfect.
So yeah, that debate about whether City Cafe or Varallo's is older? It doesn't really matter. What matters is that both are still slinging hash and chili after more than a century. In restaurant years, that's basically immortal. And in a world that changes faster than you can say "artisanal craft burger," maybe that's exactly what we need: places where time moves at the speed of properly smoked ribs, where recipes don't change with focus groups, and where you really might leave as family.
Just don't ask for the WiFi password at The Original Freezo. Some things are better left in the past.
