This Mississippi Spot Makes Meat-And-Three Plates The Old-School Way

There’s a moment on Oxford’s Courthouse Square when you hear the screen door at Ajax Diner slap shut and you just know lunch is about to get good. I’ve stood in that early line with students, locals, and professors who all swear they’ve “got their order down to a science.”

Inside, the lights glow warm, the walls feel a little mischievous, and the plates hit the table with that unmistakable meat-and-three abundance. Crispy catfish that flakes clean, black-eyed peas with a hint of smoke, cornbread that feels like something your favorite aunt made, it’s all here.

Ajax doesn’t shout about tradition, but cooks it. If you’re craving Southern comfort with real personality, pull up a chair.

The Classic Meat-And-Three Ritual

At Ajax Diner, the meat-and-three isn’t a gimmick, it’s a ritual refined over decades. Choose your anchor, meatloaf, chicken-fried steak, or catfish, and build a plate that reads like a love letter to Dixie.

Black-eyed peas arrive perfectly seasoned, mashed potatoes wear silky gravy, and fried okra snaps with a cornmeal crunch. Portions are generous, prices fair, and the rhythm of plates hitting tables gives lunch a friendly hum.

It’s a square meal that respects tradition without fuss. Come hungry, leave happy, and plan on leftovers for dinner.

Chicken-Fried Steak And Gravy

Ajax’s chicken-fried steak is a local legend, hand-breaded, fried to a golden shell, and blanketed in pepper-flecked cream gravy.

The crust stays crisp while the steak inside remains tender, made richer by its pairing with whipped potatoes. Add buttery corn and broccoli rice casserole to round out the plate like a Sunday supper. It’s the kind of comfort that wins over skeptics and spoils regulars.

The kitchen moves fast, but the flavors linger. One bite and you’ll understand why reviewers call it “amazing” and return for seconds.

Fried Catfish And Catfish Cakes

Mississippi catfish is a birthright here, and Ajax treats it with respect. Fillets emerge shatter-crisp, never greasy, while catfish cakes deliver a savory, herb-laced interior and a crunchy exterior that wins fans instantly.

Pair them with hash brown casserole, the sleeper hit, and a side of greens or sweet cream corn. Lemon wedges and house sauces keep each bite bright.

Diners praise the speed and consistency, making it a dependable order on busy afternoons. Whether sandwich or plate, this catfish anchors the coastal-to-delta story.

Okra, Sides, And The Joy Of Crunch

At Ajax, side dishes are headliners, especially the fried okra, called “AMAZING” by devotees. Each nugget crackles with cornmeal, holding a tender center with no gumminess.

The supporting cast runs deep: black-eyed peas, purple hull peas, sweet cream corn, broccoli rice casserole, and cheesy grits. Hash brown casserole is a cult favorite, while cornbread dressing steals bites across the table.

Rotate combinations for new experiences each visit. This is the rare place where the three in meat-and-three can become the main attraction.

Cornbread, Dressing, And The Sauce Situation

Ajax’s cornbread leans rustic, with a toasty edge and tender crumb, perfect for sopping up gravy. When the calendar swings toward comfort, the cornbread dressing shines: savory, herbed, and richly satisfying.

Sauces keep plates lively, tangy remoulade for catfish, pepper gravy for steaks, and hot sauce on standby. Opinions vary on salt levels, but the kitchen’s aim is bold, old-school flavor.

You should ask your server for pairing tips; they know the lineup well. It’s the kind of bread-and-sauce harmony that completes a Southern spread.

Atmosphere On The Square

Set at 118 Courthouse Square, Ajax Diner hums with laid-back Oxford energy. String lights, eclectic art, and a friendly bar anchor the room, while a soundtrack of roots and classic tunes keeps pace.

It’s casual, family-friendly, and often buzzing, arrive early for lunch or dinner. Even when parking is tricky, the short walk adds to the square’s charm.

Service leans warm and efficient, with quick table turns during rush. Expect a lively crowd and enough space to breathe, comfort food tastes better with a little bustle.

What To Know Before You Go

Ajax is open 11 AM–9 PM Monday through Saturday and closed Sundays, plan accordingly. Prices hover around $10–$20, and portions are generous, making it budget-friendly for the square.

Expect a short wait at peak lunch hours; service is typically quick once seated. The phone number is +1 662-232-8880, and the menu lives at ajaxdiner.com.

Parking around the square can be tight, so consider walking from nearby lots. Whether you’re craving catfish or meatloaf, timing and appetite are your best tools.

How To Order Like A Regular

Start with a meat-and-three: chicken-fried steak or catfish, then mix textures, one creamy side, one crunchy, one green.

Consider fried okra, hash brown casserole, and black-eyed peas for balance. Add cornbread, and don’t skip a splash of hot sauce on greens. If you’re sharing, grab catfish cakes for the table.

Ask your server what’s running especially fresh; they’ll steer you right. Finish with sweet tea or a cold beer at the bar, and you’ve mastered the Ajax playbook.

Smothered Pork Chops Supreme

These bone-in pork chops are seared until the edges develop a caramelized crust, then simmered low and slow in onion-pepper gravy that clings like velvet. The cook deglazes with a whisper of coffee to deepen the fond, layering savory notes beneath the sweetness of onions.

Each chop absorbs the gravy patiently, turning tender enough to yield to a butter knife. A scatter of scallions and cracked black pepper wakes everything up.

The plate is straightforward, unfussy, and unapologetically rich. It’s the kind of smother that remembers Sunday dinners, where aroma called you to the table before anyone spoke your name.

Slow-Roasted Pot Roast With Pan Drippings

This pot roast starts before sunrise, tucked into a heavy roaster with carrots, celery, and bay until its marbling surrenders.

The meat bathes in its own juices, building a dark, sticky glaze kissed with Worcestershire and a splash of malt vinegar. When it’s pulled, the juices get reduced to a lacquer that glistens like church shoes on Easter. Threads of beef slide apart with a nudge, perfumed by thyme and black pepper.

It tastes like patience, like somebody kept watch on the oven door. Each bite carries the quiet confidence of a recipe that’s never needed a rewrite.