The drive was more beautiful than ever. The mountainsides were greening. Enormous clumps of lush wisteria drooped over the road. The sun shone on the river, snaking along the narrow highway, flashing white between the trees. A small roadside sign welcomed me to "Riverside Community."
A few more bends in the road and I arrived at Riverside Catfish House.
Nancy Daffron, left, and Kristian PrinceDon't let its humble facade fool you. Riverside Catfish is actually quite large. There are multiple dining areas that can easily accommodate dozens of guests. Yet there is still something charmingly cabin-like about the restaurant. In the back, a stilted second-story deck juts over the water.
I took a seat at a booth along the back where I had a stellar view of the surrounding mountains and river. A hummingbird flittered about the deck. A huge bird soared over the water; its wingspan so large I thought it might be an eagle. Suddenly, the smell and sizzle of frying catfish wafted from the kitchen.
It occurred to me then - I was living the country dream.
A few moments later, owner Cynthia Massengale came out and sat with me. "Mother's Day is coming up," she said. "It's a big time for us. We're going to give a free dessert to every mom that comes in." In addition to catfish and fingerlings, Riverside is famous for its homemade cakes, namely its light, fluffy, creamy coconut cake.
"Oh, people fuss if we don't have the coconut cake," said Nancy Daffron, cake maker extraordinaire. "I tried to do red velvet on Valentine's Day, but people fussed," she laughed. However, Nancy does have plans to introduce a new strawberry cake this season. "It won't be a box cake," she assured me. She also assured me that the coconut cake will be available this Mother's Day, making Riverside an ideal place to celebrate mom tis year.
The homey Lookout Valley, Tenn., restaurant is also a great place to kick back with friends on a weekend night. The menu now includes a variety of domestic- beer bottles.
"And the view is spectacular," Cynthia said, turning toward the window. As if on cue, the huge bird soared past again. "That's a young bald eagle," she told me matter-of-factly. "It likes to hang out on that tree over there," she added, pointing down by the river where a slow-moving boat puttered along. She stood with her hands on hip, benevolently looking down on the land below. A server placed a stack of freshly fried catfish and chicken fingers on the table, filling the dining area again with the comforting smell of hot food.
Indeed, Riverside Catfish House is a country dream, and clearly, Cynthia is the presiding country queen. ?