• E-mail story
• Comments
• iPod friendly

Crispy delight

Fried pickle can trace its history to Atkins.

By Spencer Watson (Contact)

Wednesday, July 9, 2008

Sour, salty and bound to be bad for you, deep-fried pickles are a testament to the popular notion that we in the South will indeed fry anything. But can you blame us when it tastes so darn good?

If you've never had them, you're probably thinking that there's no way I could be right about this. Fried pickles? Yeah, I thought that too at one time, just like I thought that any drink that mixed milk and vodka would be terrible. I was wrong on both counts. If you still don't believe me, consider that Sonic Drive-In, for a limited time, offered these delectable treats on its menu nationally. Are you going to argue with the folks who produce the Island Fire Burger?

Sadly, you can't pick up fried pickles at the car hop fast-food restaurant anymore, but you can still find them at a handful of places locally, and why not. After all, Arkansas is, at least according to some, the home of the deep-fried pickle.

It was in the summer of 1963 that the late Bernell “Fatman” Austin of Atkins, just this side of Russellville, first had the inspiration to try to deep fry a pickle, according to the article written by his son David for the Encyclopedia of Arkansas History and Culture. Austin owned a restaurant called the Duchess Drive-In on the old U.S. 64 (then the main road between Little Rock and Fort Smith) and was looking for a gimmick to draw people in.

“He said he just decided to try to come up with something unusual,” said Van Tyson, long-time editor and publisher of The Atkins Chronicle, who interviewed Austin about the invention before his death in 1999.

Being right across the highway from the city's largest employer, the Atkins Pickle Plant, the choice of what to fry wasn't hard. The difficult part was finding a batter that would stick, Austin told Tyson. By the end of the summer, the recipe was perfected — and hasn't changed since. Though the inventor is gone, the Austin family still produces its original fried pickles every year for Atkins' Picklefest, held on the second Friday and Saturday in May. Their recipe is a closely guarded family secret, Tyson said.

“Several people tried to buy the recipe from him [Austin], but he always refused,” Tyson said.

However, there's apparently more than one way to fry a pickle. Austin's competition for the title of inventor comes from a little diner in Robinsonville, Miss., called The Hollywood. Featured on The Travel Channel, the current co-owner and a former cook both claim credit for the fried pickle as The Hollywood's own — but go on to explain the inspiration came to them in 1970. That's seven years after Austin's Duchess.

Regardless of who fried a pickle first, though, it's obvious they were on to something. A quick Internet search of foodie message boards finds local purveyors of fried pickles (sometimes called “frickles”) throughout the South, up the East Coast, and even over into the Midwest.

What you'll find here in the Little Rock area are a handful of places that serve creations more akin to The Hollywood's incarnation than those of Austin in that most orders of fried pickles in these parts come in chips. Occasionally you might find fried spears, but Austin's were more “strips” or “hamburger slices” as Tyson described them — “like onion rings, except not in a ring.”

Representatives of the local styles can be found at the following restaurants.

Cotham’s in the City

1401 W. Third St., Little Rock

(501) 370-9177

At $4.99 for a basket, or $1.79 to sub them for fries with a sandwich, they're thin-sliced dill chips with a lot of seasoning in the batter to give them a flavor all their own, a little spice to counter the natural sour of the pickle. They're served with ranch dressing.

Ferneau

2601 Kavanaugh, Little Rock

(501) 603-9208

Served as an appetizer for $6 and accompanied by a black pepper aioli, Ferneau’s fried pickle chips have a lighter breading that focuses taste more on the pickle

— and the topping of freshly grated Parmesan cheese.

Paul’s Restaurant

3700 JFK Blvd., North Little Rock

(501) 753-8833

A heaping plate of thin-sliced dill chips in a medium coating of mild spices for $5.25. Called an appetizer, it's easily enough for two (or more) and served with a side of ranch.

Boudreaux’s Grill & Bar

9811 Maumelle Blvd., North Little Rock

(501) 753-6860

Thicker sliced chips than most other local fare we sampled, with a spicy Cajun breading that has a little kick to it. Served as an appetizer for $4.65, with a remoulade dipping sauce.