These Are The 10 Fried Catfish Spots In Arkansas Locals Can’t Stop Raving About
If you’ve ever found yourself craving fried catfish in Arkansas, you’re in for a treat, literally. There’s something special about sinking your teeth into a perfectly crispy, golden catfish fillet, paired with all the right sides and served with that unmistakable Southern charm.
Whether it’s a bustling seafood joint or a hidden gem located on a country road, Arkansas has a seriously solid collection of fried catfish spots that locals swear by. And let’s face it: when the folks who live and breathe the flavors of this state rave about a place, you know it’s worth checking out.
Starting with plates of catfish so hot they practically hum with flavor, served alongside hushpuppies and fries, and continuing with laid-back dining spots where the food feels like home. These are the spots that make you stop, savor, and appreciate just how good fried catfish can really be.
Ready to dive in? Let’s go!
1. Eat My Catfish, Little Rock (Cantrell Rd)
After a ravenous afternoon of errands, I pulled into Eat My Catfish on Cantrell, where the neon sign promised exactly what I was craving. The shop sits at 2516 Cantrell Rd, Suite A12, Little Rock, AR 72202, located in a strip center where the parking lot smells faintly of fryer warmth and rain.
I ordered the classic catfish basket and watched the kitchen move like a drumline, tight and lively.
The fillets landed with a brittle tap against the basket, that cornmeal crust shimmering with paprika freckles. I broke off a corner and the steam lifted up, clean and sweet like fresh water over granite, which is how I knew they took sourcing seriously.
The hush puppies carried onion whispers and a golden shell that crackled when I buttered them, a tiny luxury I will defend.
Catfish here leans toward lightly seasoned on the interior, letting the fry speak without shouting, while the exterior snaps like a polite high five. I splashed lemon, dragged through tartar, then tried a dunk in comeback sauce to test the range.
Fries were classic and salty, the kind you eat without even realizing it.
Service kept the rhythm breezy, with refills appearing just when the pepper tickled hot. Families cycled in, and I watched kids do that wide-eyed pause after the first bite, a little silent fireworks show.
If you crave catfish that respects the fish and plays nice with the crunch, this stop hits the sweet spot.
Prices felt fair for the care, and the ticket time stayed quick even at a busy clip. I left with fingers perfumed by lemon and cornmeal, which is basically a souvenir around here.
Put this one on your short list when your mood needs a dependable, crispy reset.
2. Eat My Catfish, Little Rock (Rodney Parham)
On a rainy evening, the Rodney Parham location at 10301 N Rodney Parham Rd, Ste A-4, Little Rock, AR 72227 felt inviting, with fogged windows adding to the cozy vibe. The line moved fast, punctuated by the sizzle you can feel in your ribs.
I ordered a two-piece catfish plate with slaw and green beans, because balance counts.
The crust here runs a shade more pepper-forward, with a grain that clings rather than flakes, a subtle shift that matters. I squeezed lemon, tasted, and felt that soft, flaky interior slide apart like a secret you were ready to share.
The slaw snapped bright and tangy, a crisp pause between crunchy bites.
They fry to order, which explains the hot-to-hand timing and that lifted aroma that follows you to the table. I noticed a steady stream of regulars greeting the crew by name, always a green flag in my book.
The tartar sauce carries a dill wink that keeps the richness trimmed and lively.
Fries are classic crinkle, salted with intent, and excellent at corralling stray sauce. If you are sauce curious, try the house remoulade for a twang that nudges the cornmeal into dance mode.
Portions are generous but not clumsy, which lets you finish without surrender.
By the time the rain softened, I had cleaned the basket and tucked a hush puppy into the to-go box like a victory lap. This location holds its own tempo, a calm, consistent groove that rewards weeknight cravings.
When you want reliable crunch with personality, this spot answers without hesitation.
3. Eat My Catfish, North Little Rock (McCain Blvd)
I crossed the river for a lunch run and slid into the North Little Rock shop at 4216 E McCain Blvd, North Little Rock, AR 72117. It was that perfect noon rush where everyone moves with purpose and the fryer sings.
I claimed a corner table and watched baskets lift like parade floats.
The catfish here wears a crisp jacket with a subtle cayenne hush that waits until the second bite to say hello. Inside, the meat is tender and lightly sweet, a reminder that fresh fish does not need theatrics.
I paired it with okra that could pass for sculpted crunch, each piece a tidy pop.
The staff offered extra lemon without asking, a tiny gesture that made the plate feel tailored. Tartar leaned creamy with just enough pickle spark to keep you chasing the fork.
I tried a mix of vinegar slaw and a fry nibble between bites, and the rhythm felt right.
Families, office crews, and solo diners filled the room, and nobody seemed rushed off their seat. That matters when the meal deserves a moment of hush.
The dining room stayed spotless, another quiet flex I appreciate.
Value lands strong here, especially if you are sharing a combo and need variety. I left refueled, the kind of content that makes traffic feel less loud.
When you need a North Little Rock catfish fix that respects your lunch hour, this one delivers with crisp authority.
4. Eat My Catfish, Benton
Saturday errands turned into a detour to the Benton outpost at 1205 Military Rd, Ste 7, Benton, AR 72015. The sign promised comfort, and the first whiff sealed the deal.
I ordered the catfish basket with hush puppies and beans, then settled in for that fryer drumroll.
The crust arrived golden, hugging the fillet with a confident crunch that did not shatter or sog. Inside, the flake was soft as a story told late, clean and mild.
Hush puppies leaned savory with a little corn sweetness, exactly the kind that makes you guard the last one.
I noticed the oil tasted fresh, which is the difference between good and great when you fry for a living. Beans brought a smoky whisper that kept the plate grounded.
A lemon squeeze woke everything up like turning on a porch light at dusk.
Service ran friendly and unhurried, the dining room buzzing with small-town ease. People waved at each other across tables, and a couple traded sauces like playing cards.
That atmosphere makes the basket feel even warmer.
Price point hits fair, and portions feel like someone who cares about leftovers measured them. I left with a satisfied quiet, the kind that lets you plan the rest of the day with a grin.
For Benton, this is your reliable crispy compass, pointing straight to comfort.
5. Lazy Pete’s Fish & Shrimp, Little Rock
A late afternoon craving led me to Lazy Pete’s at 200 N Bowman Rd, Ste 9, Little Rock, AR 72211, where the strip mall glow felt like a welcoming beacon. The menu reads like a friendly dare, with baskets, po’ boys, and sides that seem to call your name.
I stayed focused on the fried catfish and added a side of Cajun fries to keep things lively.
The fillets wore a craggy crust that snapped right back, seasoned with a peppery edge that never bullied the fish. Inside, the flesh was delicate and flaky, the kind of bite that makes you pause out of respect.
The fries brought heat and salt, playing wingman perfectly without stealing the scene.
Tartar leaned zesty and generous, and the hot sauce options ranged from polite to bold. I alternated lemon and sauce, building a little choreography on the plate that felt personal.
The music hummed low, letting the fryer rhythm set the pace.
The crew moved like they had known each other for years, trading jokes while keeping orders crisp and quick. Regulars swung in with that confident stride, and the room kept an easy roll.
Clean tables, fast refills, and a steady sizzle made it feel effortless.
Portions satisfied without tipping into excess, and the check matched the mood. I left with a light spice glow and a satisfied grin, like I had found a shortcut to a good day.
When you want catfish that punches above its square footage, Lazy Pete’s lands the jab and the smile.
6. Flying Fish, Little Rock (River Market)
I slid into Flying Fish at 511 President Clinton Ave, Little Rock, AR 72201, where the River Market buzz felt like a soundtrack. License plates on the wall and the clatter of trays framed the mood just right.
I ordered the fried catfish basket with a side of red beans and rice to anchor things.
The catfish arrived golden and confident, a cornmeal crust that kept its crunch from first bite to last. Inside, the fish was moist and clean, a simple, well-executed take that embraced balance over bravado.
A squeeze of lemon and a quick dip into house tartar made a neat one-two punch.
Red beans brought comfort, but the fries did the heavy lifting for crunch companionship. The room thrummed with downtown energy, tourists and locals in a cheerful shuffle.
Service stayed snappy, even with a line zigzagging like parade tape.
What I loved was the consistency, the way each fillet matched the last without losing soul. The crust was seasoned just enough to flirt with heat, nothing loud.
I kept chasing that shatter in every bite, and it never let me down.
Prices were city fair, good for the location and the pace. I left into the River Market breeze feeling a little lighter and a lot happier.
If your day needs catfish with a side of people-watching, this is your downtown green light.
7. Catfish Hole, Fayetteville
After a long drive through the Ozarks, Catfish Hole at 4127 W Wedington Dr, Fayetteville, AR 72704, was the ideal stop, and my stomach was ready for it. The dining room carries a hometown warmth that felt like a handshake and a seat at the table.
I ordered the catfish dinner and let the hush puppies set the tone.
Here the batter sings with corn sweetness and clean fry notes, a picture of restraint that lets the fish be the headline. The fillets flaked generously, never greasy, the kind of texture that says pride is in the details.
Hush puppies came fast and hot, butter-melting, with just enough onion to make them lively.
Service rolled like clockwork, drinks never dipping below halfway. The tartar sauce leaned bright and creamy, and a lemon splash pulled the edges into focus.
I alternated bites with a forkful of slaw, crisp enough to keep everything in tune.
Families filled the big tables, and it felt like game day without the noise. The vibe encouraged second baskets and long conversations, which I consider a high compliment to the fry station.
I watched baskets land with a satisfying clink and knew I would remember this cadence.
Value stacked up beautifully for the quality on the plate. I walked out with that soft, happy silence only great fried catfish can give.
When Fayetteville calls for a comfort anthem, Catfish Hole plays it perfectly from the first crunchy note.
8. Catfish John’s, Rogers
I rolled into Rogers and pointed straight to Catfish John’s at 601 W Hudson Rd, Rogers, AR 72756, where the sign felt like a promise kept. The room buzzed with a weeknight crowd chasing the same crunchy dream.
I ordered the catfish dinner and settled in for that first-maple-leaf shatter.
The crust came thin, even, and golden, a graceful shell that let the fish glide free underneath. Each bite stayed light, with zero grease fatigue, which told me the oil was fresh and the timing dialed.
Hush puppies leaned savory, and the fries were steady sidekicks, salted with intent.
Tartar tasted homemade, a little dill, a little pickle, and exactly enough acidity to lift the cornmeal. I worked in small bites, then bigger ones, because restraint lost the argument fast.
The slaw contributed a cool snap that made the sequence feel right.
Tables turned quickly, but nobody rushed, a balance that takes practice. Staff floated by with easy check-ins, like they already knew what you needed.
The pace made the plate taste even better, somehow more relaxed.
For price against quality, this place lands squarely in the sweet spot. I left with the pleasant hush of a craving satisfied precisely.
If Rogers had a catfish calling card, Catfish John’s would stamp it with a friendly crunch.
9. Bubba’s Catfish & Seafood, Hot Springs
Following a stroll near the lake, I found myself at Bubba’s, located at 622 Carpenter Dam Rd, Hot Springs, AR 71913, with the tempting scent of fry stations mixing with the breeze. The counter crew kept the line friendly and direct, which let the food do the talking.
I ordered the catfish dinner and added hush puppies for fairness to tradition.
The fillets wore a rough crumb that snapped like a creek pebble, locking in soft, bright fish beneath. I squeezed lemon, tapped tartar, and felt that satisfying balance click into place.
The fries were straight shooters, crisp enough to keep pace without stealing the applause.
Hot Springs crowds bring a mix of locals and travelers, and everyone seemed in on the secret. The dining room held a comfortable hum, the kind that tells you you picked the right exit.
Portions ran generous, but the fry stayed impressively disciplined.
The sauces stuck to the classics, and the slaw did its job of refreshing your taste buds like a champ. I watched as the plates came out in a smooth rhythm, each one looking perfectly matched in color and confidence.
That consistency felt like a promise kept with every order.
Prices matched the quality, and I left with a happy quiet in the car. If spa city relaxation had a crunchy counterpart, this would be it.
For a Hot Springs catfish craving, Bubba’s checks every box with cheerful precision.
10. Lee’s Fresh Fish Food Truck, Little Rock
The wonderful scent led me right to Lee’s Fresh Fish truck, parked at 4021 Asher Ave, Little Rock, AR 72204, with its window open, welcoming everyone. The line signaled wisdom, so I settled into the shuffle and watched baskets crest out of the oil.
I ordered a catfish plate with fries and waited for that telltale sizzle to quiet.
The fillets had a hearty, crispy crust that cracked like stepping on fresh gravel, revealing smooth, tender fish underneath. Lemon and hot sauce teamed up perfectly with the house tartar, each bringing its own zing.
The fries were hot and solid, just right for scooping up any stray crumbs.
The street vibe gave it a bit of drama, with car radios blending in with the hum of the fryer. People swapped recommendations like it was a neighborhood potluck, and I found myself trusting every suggestion.
The portion was generous and satisfying, the kind of plate that makes you nod in approval.
What struck me most was the no-nonsense precision of the fry, every piece evenly golden. No grease fatigue, no stray sog, just crisp edges and happy steam.
It felt like the kind of place in Arkansas that becomes a habit before you realize it.
Prices made it a victory for weekday cravings. I walked away licking lemon from my fingers, already plotting a return.
If Little Rock has a catfish lane on the street map, Lee’s draws it in bold and underlines it twice.