Inside The Kentucky Meat And Three Where The Desserts Come Straight From Grandma’s Recipe Cards
MiMi’s Southern Style Cooking sits just off New Circle Road in Lexington, serving up authentic meat-and-three meals that taste like Sunday dinner at your grandmother’s house. The cafeteria-style setup lets you pick from fresh-cooked meats and vegetables displayed on a steam table, with portions generous enough to satisfy anyone.
What really sets this place apart are the desserts, made from old family recipes that have been passed down through generations. Some say the sweet potato pie alone is worth circling New Circle Road twice-and then some.
Walking In: The First Impression
Pushing through the doors at MiMi’s feels like arriving somewhere you belong. Conversations hum throughout the dining room while plates clatter gently against serving spoons at the hot bar. Steam rises from pans of greens and mac and cheese, carrying the smell of seasoned pork and fresh cornbread straight to your nose.
That aroma wraps around you like a warm hug from someone who has been waiting all day to feed you. Your stomach growls before you even reach the line. Everyone behind the counter greets you with a smile, making you feel like family instead of just another customer walking in for lunch.
The Ritual Of The Steam Table
You grab your tray and slide it along the metal rail, eyes scanning every option laid out before you. The server asks what you want, and suddenly you face impossible choices. Do you go with mac and cheese or mashed potatoes, knowing you cannot possibly eat both and still have room for dessert.
She suggests the greens because they are especially good today, so you nod and watch her pile them high. The pork chops glisten under the heat lamps, calling your name. You point to the biggest one, then add green beans because vegetables count, even when they are cooked in bacon.
The Main: The Plate I Chose
Two fried pork chops landed on my plate because one never feels like enough when they look this perfect. Golden brown crust covered every inch, promising that satisfying crunch I have been craving since breakfast. My fork cut through the first chop easily, revealing juicy meat that practically fell off the bone.
That initial bite delivered everything I hoped for. Crispy coating gave way to tender pork seasoned just right, not too salty but packed with flavor. Heat from the fryer still radiated through the meat, warming my mouth. My grandmother used to make pork chops on special occasions, and these tasted exactly like hers.
The Sides That Taste Like Home
Collard greens sat in a pool of pot liquor that tasted like someone simmered them for hours with ham hocks and patience. Each bite brought that perfect balance of bitter greens and savory broth. The mac and cheese arrived creamy and rich, with cheese sauce that coated every noodle instead of clumping at the bottom.
Hot water cornbread stole the show though. Crispy edges surrounded a soft, slightly sweet center that crumbled perfectly when I broke it apart. My aunt used to make cornbread exactly like this, frying it in a cast iron skillet until the outside turned golden. One taste transported me back to her kitchen.
Desserts From Grandma’s Recipe Cards
Banana pudding wobbled slightly when the server set it down, layers of vanilla wafers peeking through creamy custard. My spoon sank through the meringue top, gathering pudding and soft banana slices in one perfect bite. Sweetness hit first, followed by that unmistakable vanilla flavor that only comes from real pudding made from scratch.
A tiny hint of something extra lingered on my tongue, maybe a splash of pure vanilla extract. Recipes like this survive because they remind us of specific people and moments. Every grandmother who ever made banana pudding added her own secret touch, and this one clearly came from someone who understood that dessert means love.
The People Who Keep It Sunday
Behind the counter, a woman named Miss Joyce has been serving plates here since the restaurant opened. Her hands move with practiced efficiency, scooping portions that always seem just right. When I asked about the recipes, she smiled and said most came from family members who cooked for church suppers and Sunday dinners.
A regular customer named Mr. Davis comes in every Tuesday for catfish and greens. Miss Joyce knows his order before he opens his mouth. Their easy banter shows how this place preserves more than recipes. It keeps alive the tradition of gathering around good food and treating strangers like neighbors who just have not visited yet.
What This Meal Taught Me
Comfort food earns its name by doing more than filling your stomach. This meal reminded me that some flavors connect directly to memory, unlocking moments you thought you had forgotten. My grandmother has been gone for years, but tasting food this authentic brought her back for an hour.
Sitting in that chair, surrounded by other people seeking the same warmth, I understood why places like MiMi’s matter. They anchor us to traditions that might otherwise disappear. The last image that stays with me is my empty plate, scraped clean, with just a few crumbs of cornbread remaining as evidence of something truly satisfying.
Why MiMi’s Matters To Lexington
Restaurants serving genuine meat-and-three meals have become harder to find as fast food chains multiply across every corner. MiMi’s stands as proof that people still crave food made with care and served without pretension. The dining room fills daily with everyone from construction workers to families celebrating birthdays, all seeking that same honest comfort.
Prices stay reasonable, with most plates costing between ten and twenty dollars for portions that often provide leftovers. Quality never suffers despite the affordability. This place thrives because it delivers exactly what it promises, keeping alive cooking methods and flavors that define Southern hospitality at its finest.