Darion Barnhart
If there was ever a time to indulge in a little joy, now would be it. Having spent months in isolation feeling fear, panic, and gratitude—oddly, all at the same time—we could probably all use a smile.
Enter Joyland. Against impossible odds, chef Sean Brock opened a fast-casual burger and biscuit joint on Woodland Street in East Nashville in late March. Despite the city’s shutdown, he managed to hire and train staff, wrap up his extensive research and development, and determine how to operate during a pandemic. From the start, it seemed like a leap of faith, with the menu growing from a few items to a more robust list of burgers and biscuit sandwiches, and phone-in orders transitioning to an online system. But the concept is now fully realized. Even the pick-up process has smoothed out—now contactless yet friendly, the staff comes car-side to deliver paper bags of, yup, pure joy.
While it wasn’t the opening Brock envisioned, Joyland’s model is actually fitting for the times. The all-day burger and biscuit joint doles out handheld food—sandwiches, fried chicken, and fries, all packaged to be carried and eaten on-the-go. There is a dining room, which we’ve just now gotten a glimpse of, but the curbside pickup almost adds to the restaurant’s throwback-era charm.
Darion Barnhart
Inspired by the nation’s original fast-food restaurants and drive-ins, Brock’s quick service concept goes beyond basics. The chef worked extensively on research and development, testing everything from bread sponginess to fried chicken crustiness, even combining forces with food scientists from the snack world to develop particularly nostalgic flavors. You’ll taste it in the curly fries, whose seasoning took me back to a 1950s-era diner I enjoyed as a kid. The joystick, which are bite-sized chicken pieces skewered onto a stick (or a dipstick if it’s dipped in sorghum-infused hot sauce), is an homage to both Japanese snacks and the gas station foods of Oxford, Mississippi. The crispy, light chicken comes in a peppery original seasoning, or a range of rotating spices pulled from some of Brock’s favorite haunts, like Mission Chinese or Momofuku.
There’s an ethereal lightness inside the well-formed crust of Joyland’s biscuits—attribute that to the ratio of Brock’s hand-picked flour (milled at Boonville Flour & Feed in North Carolina) and Cruze Farm buttermilk, produced out near Knoxville. Whether on their own with butter and jam or sandwiching a stretch of country fried steak or bulge of fried chicken, the biscuits hold up.
Darion Barnhart
Joyland’s burgers might very well win some awards here, soon. Crafted from a private label mix of Bear Creek beef and sandwiched between two appropriately squishy potato buns, they come as either single or double patties, smothered with melted cheese, pickles, and a tangy Thousand Island-like “joy sauce.” Between the robust, meaty flavor and the burger’s near perfect construction, which holds up on the go, it’s one I’ll return to again and again. Bonus: Every burger and biscuit can also be ordered gluten-free—and those taste very fine, too.
An old-fashioned milkshake rounds out the meal, especially in flavors like chocolate malt and peanut butter cup. They’re just right to grab on the go—and when everyone is ready, they’ll be just the thing to celebrate a return to the camaraderie of a bustling dining room.
Joyland, 901 Woodland St.; eatjoyland.com