This Beloved North Carolina Soul Food Joint Serves Plates Locals Refuse To Give Up
When I first stumbled upon Nana Morrison’s Soul Food Kitchen in Charlotte, I knew I’d found something special.
The aroma of fried chicken and collard greens wafted through the air, pulling me in like a magnet.
This family-owned treasure has been feeding Charlotte locals for over three generations, turning first-time visitors into lifelong regulars with every plate they serve.
A Family Legacy Of Flavor
Grandma Eloise Morrison never imagined her Sunday dinners would spawn Charlotte’s most beloved eatery. Back in 1967, she started selling plates from her back porch after church – word spread faster than her famous butter rolls.
I remember my first visit after moving to Charlotte. The current owner, Eloise’s grandson Marcus, greeted me by name on my second visit! He still uses those yellowed recipe cards, splattered with decades of food stains and love.
The walls tell their story through faded photographs – Eloise stirring massive pots, neighborhood lines forming down the block in the 70s, and celebrities who’ve made the pilgrimage. This isn’t just a restaurant; it’s a living museum of Black culinary excellence.
Crispy Fried Chicken That Brings Tears
Lord have mercy on my waistline! The first bite of Nana’s fried chicken stopped my conversation mid-sentence. A perfectly seasoned crust shatters between your teeth, giving way to the juiciest meat you’ve ever encountered.
The secret? A 24-hour buttermilk brine and seasoning blend that Marcus guards like Fort Knox. I’ve watched grown men close their eyes in reverence while eating this chicken, momentarily transported to childhood Sunday dinners.
What makes it truly special is the consistency. Whether you visit on a packed Saturday night or quiet Tuesday afternoon, that chicken maintains its throne as Charlotte’s crispiest, juiciest offering. The plate comes with two massive pieces, though regulars know to request a wing and thigh combination for the perfect balance.
Mac & Cheese That Haunts Dreams
Yellow cheese cascades into orange rivers between tender elbow noodles in this legendary side dish. My Carolina-born neighbor dragged me here specifically for this mac & cheese, claiming it would ruin all others for me. She wasn’t wrong.
The crispy top layer gives way to a molten center that somehow remains creamy even as it cools. Five cheeses (including one Marcus imports from Wisconsin) create a complexity that keeps you guessing with each forkful.
What truly distinguishes this dish is the subtle hint of mustard powder and nutmeg dancing in the background. I’ve witnessed heated debates among locals about whether this mac & cheese qualifies as a side or deserves main dish status. Many regulars order double portions, creating the famous “Mac Attack” plate that’s become an unofficial menu staple.
Collard Greens Worth Fighting For
Smoky, tangy, and swimming with hamhocks, these aren’t your average greens! My first spoonful had me questioning every sad, boiled version I’d suffered through before. The potlikker alone (that’s the cooking liquid, for the uninitiated) deserves its own spot on the menu.
Marcus told me they cook these bad boys for six hours minimum, adding vinegar only in the final thirty minutes – a technique his grandmother swore prevented bitterness. The greens retain their integrity while absorbing all that porky goodness.
What’s truly remarkable is how these collards convert even the vegetable-averse. I watched my greens-hating cousin empty an entire bowl, then sheepishly ask if he could order another. The small cup of pepper vinegar served alongside lets you customize the tang to your preference.
Sweet Potato Pie That Stops Conversations
Holy cinnamon heaven! The first time I tasted Nana’s sweet potato pie, the room actually went silent. My fork sliced through the flaky, butter-rich crust into a filling that somehow manages to be both light as air and deeply satisfying.
Unlike many cloyingly sweet versions, this pie lets the natural sweetness of North Carolina-grown sweet potatoes shine through. The subtle blend of nutmeg, ginger, and vanilla creates complexity without overwhelming.
What really sets this pie apart is its texture – silky smooth with not a single fibrous string in sight. Marcus revealed that his grandmother insisted on pressing the cooked potatoes through a fine-mesh sieve before mixing – a labor-intensive step most places skip. Each slice comes with a dollop of fresh whipped cream that slowly melts into the warm filling, creating heavenly bites that make you close your eyes involuntarily.
Oxtails That Fall Off The Bone
Gravy so rich it should pay taxes! These oxtails had me scraping my plate with embarrassing enthusiasm during my third visit. Each gelatinous, tender morsel practically dissolves on your tongue, leaving behind a complex flavor that can only come from hours of patient braising.
The meat arrives already separated from the bone – a thoughtful touch that eliminates the awkward gnawing many oxtail dishes require. That glossy gravy, studded with soft carrots and onions, deserves to be bottled and sold.
These oxtails appear only on Thursdays and Sundays, creating lines that form an hour before opening. I’ve witnessed heated negotiations between customers trying to secure the last portion. The dish comes served over rice that soaks up all that magnificent sauce, though regulars know to request a side of cornbread for additional gravy-sopping duties.
Candied Yams That Could Be Dessert
Orange chunks glisten like jewels under a buttery, spiced syrup that makes me question why anyone would ever need marshmallows on sweet potatoes. These candied yams straddle the line between side dish and dessert with remarkable balance.
The first time I tried them, I actually checked my plate to make sure I hadn’t accidentally received dessert early! Yet somehow, they complement savory dishes perfectly. The yams maintain their shape rather than dissolving into mush – a technical achievement that showcases serious cooking chops.
What makes these truly special is the unexpected hint of orange zest brightening the traditional brown sugar and cinnamon mixture. Marcus revealed this was his grandmother’s signature twist, added after she visited Florida in the 1970s. The portion size is generous, though I’ve never seen a single orange cube left on anyone’s plate.
Cornbread Muffins With Honey Butter
Golden-topped with crispy edges and a tender center, these cornbread muffins arrive steaming in a cloth-lined basket. My first bite released a puff of fragrant steam that transported me straight to cornfield heaven.
Unlike the sweet cake-like versions that dominate many restaurants, Nana’s cornbread strikes the perfect balance – just enough sweetness to complement the natural corn flavor without overwhelming it. The texture achieves the impossible: moist enough to enjoy alone yet sturdy enough to sop up pot likker or gravy.
The accompanying honey butter, served in a small crock with a tiny wooden paddle, elevates these muffins to legendary status. I watched a nearby table of businessmen in suits abandon all pretense of dignity as they slathered third and fourth muffins with that glistening, amber-flecked spread. The server whispered that they grind their cornmeal fresh weekly from a local mill.
Banana Pudding That Causes Feuds
Creamy vanilla custard layered with perfectly softened vanilla wafers and fresh banana slices – this isn’t just dessert, it’s edible nostalgia. My spoon cracked through the toasted meringue topping on my first visit, revealing treasure below.
What separates this banana pudding from imitators is the made-from-scratch custard. No instant pudding shortcuts here! The subtle vanilla bean specks visible throughout confirm its authenticity. The bananas somehow remain intact rather than dissolving into mush – a culinary magic trick I still can’t figure out.
The portion arrives in a small mason jar that seems modest until you realize how rich each spoonful is. I’ve witnessed friendly arguments break out over who gets the last serving on busy nights. Marcus confessed they make triple batches on Fridays because weekend customers have been known to place to-go orders before even starting their meals, fearing they’ll miss out.
Sweet Tea That Rivals Grandma’s
Amber liquid, kissed by sunshine and sweetened just shy of syrup – this tea demands to be mentioned alongside the food. My first sip made my Southern-raised friend nod approvingly, the highest compliment possible.
Served in massive mason jars with fresh mint and lemon wedges, this tea somehow stays perfectly chilled throughout your meal. The sweetness hits the ideal note – present enough to announce itself as authentic Southern tea without overwhelming your palate or preventing you from drinking it by the gallon.
What truly distinguishes Nana’s tea is the subtle orange pekoe base that provides depth beyond typical restaurant offerings. I’ve watched customers order to-go gallons before leaving, and the staff accommodates with a knowing smile. During summer months, they offer a half-sweet option for the faint of heart, though purists insist the original version is the only acceptable choice.