№1 SELLER
Original Thiccwhich™
$9.49Comically thick fillet. Toasted potato bun. Pickles. That’s it. That’s the sandwich.
38g proteinThe classic
Order Now
Order Now
HOWDY PARTNER!
Every batch is argued before Judge Thickens. Only verdicts of Certified Juicy make it to your tray. We are a serious restaurant.
CertifiedTHE MAIN EVENT — ALL CHICKEN, ONE GLORIOUS EXCEPTION
Buttermilk-brined for 24 hours. Cut thick on purpose. Spelled like that on purpose too.
Comically thick fillet. Toasted potato bun. Pickles. That’s it. That’s the sandwich.
Chili-oil stripe glaze, fresh jalapeños, and heat that builds character. Milk sold separately.
Hot-honey stripe glaze, golden cornbread crumble, pickles. Sweet, hot, structurally unsound in the best way.
Flame-grilled fillet buried under caramelized onions and crispy shallot strings, Swaioli everywhere. For onion people. You know who you are.
Veggies & cheese: charred cauli-portobello fillet, harissa glaze, smoked vegan cheddar, grilled onions. Our one non-chicken. The Judge wept, then certified it.
This season: grilled peach, torn burrata, hot-honey stripe, basil. The sandwich every NYC rooftop is pretending it invented. See the Summer Drop →
BY THE PIECE — FREE SAUCE (UP TO 5)
Stripe-glazed tenders, and yes — those are the famous Wheat Thunks: thick baked wheat dunkers with whipped honey-butter. Wings ruled “dangerously dippable” in a unanimous decision. Two sauces standard, five free on principle.
from $8.99SUMMER DROP ’26 · WHILE THE SUN’S OUT
Straight off the rooftops of New York and the piazzas of Europe. Peak-season fruit, cold spritzes, and the pistachio thing everyone won’t stop posting.
SANDWICH OF THE SUMMER
THE SEASONAL THICCWHICH, REVEALED
Crispy fillet, grilled peach, torn burrata, hot-honey stripe, basil, cracked pepper. Sweet, creamy, savory, a little messy — the exact thing your timeline is currently obsessed with. Here till the peaches tap out.
Pistachio soft serve swirled with amarena sour cherry. Everyone pairs pistachio with chocolate — they’re wrong. Tart, nutty, criminally pretty.
Heirloom tomatoes, labneh, grilled chicken, basil, good olive oil. It’s tomato season and we’re being dramatic about it.
Sparkling elderflower, cucumber, mint, lemon. Zero proof, full Europe. Drink it on a curb and feel expensive.
Sicilian-style lemon granita with a little brioche, the proper way. Breakfast in Catania, dessert anywhere.
Summer Drop is a limited run. When the peaches are done, so is the Court. No appeals on stone fruit.
MAKE IT A BOX — SAVE THE DIFFERENCE
Same food, less money, one box. The Court ruled that bundling is the only acceptable form of math.
Any Thiccwhich + Thicc Taters + a Charge soda. The default order. The people’s box.
Tendies, wings, Char Rings, two minis, six dips. For the group, the game, or one very ambitious individual.
Grillets, fresh fruit cup, milk, and a tiny wooden gavel. Raises future Certified-Juicy citizens. Toy rotates.
Moon Melt, Night Thunks, a Charge soda. Moon Hours only. The box that ends nights and starts legends.
Two adult plates (swap to a Fuel bowl free — parents deserve real food), two Court Meals, a big shareable side. Dinner, settled, no court date required.
Every box can swap to The V&C or a grilled bird at no charge. The Court believes in choice.
YOUR BIRD, YOUR RULES
Tap your way to the exact thing you want. Or hit “Let Chef Juicy decide” and trust the process. The Court allows both.
HIGH PROTEIN · RIGHT-SIZED · NO FOOD COMA
For the days you’re actually keeping score. Protein-dense, fiber-forward, every gram on the label. Eat lunch, keep your afternoon.
THE MEAL-PREP KILLER
GLP-1 FRIENDLY · DESK-APPROVED
Grilled chicken, jammy egg, chickpeas, quinoa, crunchy veg, green-tahini. The box that retires your sad Sunday meal-prep. Protein and fiber doing the heavy lifting so the afternoon doesn’t flatten you.
Three Grillets, a real side salad, a dip. A complete plate sized for a normal appetite. The “just enough” the menu was missing.
Grilled chicken, farro & lentils, cucumber-tomato, olives, feta, hummus, olive oil, lemon. The Mediterranean diet, but it’s lunch and it’s fast.
Grilled Grillets in a cup with a dip. The 3pm protein hit that isn’t a granola bar lying to you. Pocket-meeting approved.
Double grilled chicken, avocado, egg, greens, green goddess — no grain, no filler. For when you mean it.
Fuel up — clean drinks, no sugar bombs:
Taha’a vanilla blended with 30g whey, no added sugar. A shake that counts as a meal and tastes like dessert.
Watermelon-lime, sparkling, zero sugar, actual electrolytes. The drink your smartwatch would order.
Unsweetened cold brew over big ice. Add a 15g protein shot if you’re really committing to the bit.
Every gram on these is real and we’ll show you the math. The Court audits Chef Juicy quarterly.
BREAKFAST TO DESSERT · ALL IN A JAR
Every meal is a parfait if you’re brave enough. Layers you can see through the glass — eggs and hot chicken at 8am, cake and buttercream at 8pm. Same jar. Same rules. Build one or take ours.
Crispy potatoes, soft scrambled eggs, chopped hot chicken, melted cheese, chives. Breakfast with structural integrity.
Herbed grains, pesto greens, grilled chicken, tomato-cucumber, feta, seeds. Lunch that survives a commute standing up.
Greek yogurt, berry compote, granola crunch, fresh fruit, honey. The one your doctor and your kid both approve.
Froyo, fudge ribbon, cookie crumble, a swirl over the rim. Dessert that still counts as yogurt. We checked.
Vanilla cake, buttercream, berry jam, sprinkles. A whole birthday in a jar. Candle on request, judgment never.
1 · Pick your jar
2 · Stack your layers up to 5, bottom to top
Yes, you can put eggs and cake in the same jar. No, we will not stop you. The Court has recused itself.
TILL 10:30A — EVERY ITEM UNDER 500 CALORIES*
High-protein mornings, no sad granola. *Except the one at the bottom. You’ll see it. You’ll understand.
Soft scrambled eggs, pulled hot chicken, chorizo crumble, avocado, crema stripe. Math that slaps.
Pressed mojo chicken, swiss, pickles, mustard, crackly crust. Havana at 7 a.m.
This month: arepa & egg, tamago bao, za’atar egg pita. The flight rotates. The jet lag is free.
Whipped greek yogurt, kiwi, collagen, bee pollen, hemp seeds. For your skin. Dermatologically delicious.
Whipped yogurt, phyllo-pistachio-walnut crunch, honey, cinnamon. Dessert’s healthy cousin who lifts.
Eggs + any grilled bird + one side under the line. The register does the math and judges nothing.
ABSOLUTELY NOT UNDER 500
THE EXCEPTION
Hot Bread as the bun. Crispy fillet, a light fold of egg, deeply grilled onions, sauce, and the thinnest sheen of hunny butter. We count calories everywhere else so this one doesn’t have to.
THE SIGNATURES — STRIPE-GLAZED & SLIGHTLY UNHINGED
Chef Juicy’s world tour of glazes. Each one argued before the Court, each one ruled dangerously delicious.
VERY SPICY
NEW — THE FLAGSHIP SIGNATURE
Mojo-marinated in Cuban spices — sour orange, cumin, garlic, oregano — flame-grilled, then striped in a habanero-citrus glaze you can see glowing orange from across the room. Charred lime. Serious heat. Bring sunglasses.
Double-fried, lacquered in gochujang stripe glaze, buried in sesame and scallions. Kimchi slaw on the side. Thunder is a flavor.
Tandoor-blistered thighs finished with a Tikka Tokka stripe drizzle, charred lemon, cool mint yogurt. Yes — the sauce earned its own dish.
Chili-braised birria-style chicken, melted cheese, toasted roll — plus a cup of consommé you will absolutely drink when no one’s looking.
Extra-thick panko cutlet, amber Japanese curry striped across the top, extra curry cup for dipping. Crunch you can hear in the parking lot.
Flame-grilled chicken, Yemeni green zhoug, cucumber, cool yogurt, whole-wheat lavash. Spicy AND virtuous. The Court is still confused.
Signatures rotate as Chef Juicy wins new motions. Miami Chicken is permanent. The Court was unanimous.
THE LAB — LIMITED DROPS
Chef Juicy’s test kitchen, running unsupervised. Five drops at a time — when they’re gone, the Court seals the recipe.
This drop seals in
Green pandan waffle, crispy fillet, makrut-lime hot hunny stripes. Chicken & waffles went on vacation to Bangkok and came back different.
Midnight mole stripe glaze — chocolate, chiles, smoke — toasted sesame, orange zest. Six wings that dressed up for the occasion.
Chilled matcha soba, flame-grilled chicken, edamame, citrus ponzu. Cold noodles, clear conscience.
A crispy fillet between two Wheat Thunks, whipped hunny butter, pickles. The bun is bread that thunks. We’ve gone too far and we’re not sorry.
Fried mochi puffs, powdered sugar, coconut cloud dip. Chewy inside, cloud outside, gone in ninety seconds.
Legal requires us to disclose that nothing about the Double Thunk is technically a bun.
TATERS & DIPS — A COMMITTED RELATIONSHIP
Crispy smashed taters, dressed like they’re going somewhere. Your five free sauces apply here too. The flight is for the indecisive.
OILY. HOT. BREAD.
NEW — THE CARB EVENT
A torn pull-apart loaf soaked in Nashville-hot oil, cayenne-paprika dust, flaky salt — with the Spread Flight: whipped hunny butter, whipped feta, sorghum black-pepper butter, and green herb oil. The bread is hot. The spreads are cold. That’s the whole physics of it.
Crispy smashed taters with a three-dip flight. You pick the dips. We judge silently.
West African suya spice — peanut, ginger, cayenne — with a peanut-chili crema stripe. Lagos street heat, Nashville parking lot.
Street-corn treatment: crema stripes, cotija avalanche, tajín, charred corn. Gloriously unhealthy. We measured.
Our Ghana Jollof, rolled, fried, and weaponized. Six crispy pops with SOL sauce for dipping.
Muhammara, hummus, labneh — with charred flatbread and crunchy veg. Add Grillets or Tendies for dipping. The Court permits double-dipping among friends.
A half baked potato, scooped and re-packed with pulled hot chicken, crema stripe, scallions. The scoop goes back underneath. Nothing is wasted.
Yes, Jollof Pops are not taters. They pop. Let it go.
THE ODD PART OF THE MENU
Yes, we’re a fried chicken joint that grills a suspicious amount of chicken. High-protein, actually-healthy, still ridiculously juicy. We contain multitudes.
Flame-grilled, peri-peri kissed, zero breading. The sandwich your trainer pretends they invented.
Our Caesar. Crisp romaine, shaved parm, torn croutons, flame-grilled chicken. Named after a guy who got betrayed — this won’t.
Smoky tomato jollof, char-grilled chicken thigh. The best rice in fast food, and we’ll defend that in court. We have a court.
Our fat drunken noodle — wide rice noodles wok-charred in chicken fat, lacquered thigh chunks, Thai basil, bird’s eye chilis. The fatty noodle has a name. It’s Chunken.
Cool labneh, flame-grilled chicken, cucumber, tomato, a za’atar shower, good olive oil, warm pita. Beirut called. We answered politely.
Silky rice porridge, pulled chicken, ginger-scallion oil stripe, jammy egg, crispy shallots. Breakfast in Hong Kong, dinner in Nashville.
Also in the rice family: Peanut Butter Rice and Coconut Butter Rice. Odd? Stated. Delicious? Certified.
FROM THE COOLER — GRAB & GO
Made fresh, served cold, ready to grab. The healthy stuff that doesn’t taste like punishment. Skip the line; the Judge isn’t looking.
Cold sesame noodles, shredded chicken, cucumber, carrot. The deli-cup classic, done right and kept icy.
Thai larb chicken — chili, mint, lime, toasted rice — in crisp lettuce cups. Bright, herby, suspiciously light.
Everything chopped tiny, grilled chicken, chickpeas, green goddess. The chopped salad your feed warned you about.
Fluffy whipped feta, hot-honey stripe, warm pita, crunchy veg. The snack box that thinks it’s a meal. It’s right.
Cold Case items are the only things on this menu the Judge will allow you to eat at your desk.
NOTHING HERE TOUCHED A FRYER
Everything kissed by open flame. Char is a flavor, a lifestyle, and now a menu category.
NOT FRIED. LAYERED.
NEW — THE GRILLED NUGGET, SOLVED
Flame-grilled nuggets wrapped in their own glass-crisp chicken skin — a real crackly crust with zero fryer involved. Dry-rub dust, juicy middle, stripe glaze on request. The nugget your grilled-chicken dreams kept asking for.
Thick-cut onion rings straight on the grates. No batter, all char, Swaioli for dunking.
Grilled mango wedges, chili-lime dust, mint. Pineapple could never.
Blistered broccolini, flame-kissed corn, pickled onion, pepitas, green herb dressing. The salad that’s been through something.
Cold watermelon, salty feta, mint, olive oil, flaky salt. Summer’s closing argument.
The Char Bar is the only place where the Judge allows fruit. He’s watching.
BUILT FOR THE SIDEWALK & THE FEED
Walk-and-eat handhelds from everywhere. One hand for the food, one hand for the phone. We designed it that way.
Popcorn chicken packed in a crispy waffle cone, slaw, stripe glaze. Hold it like ice cream. Regret nothing.
Nori, rice, crispy chicken, avocado, spicy mayo — rolled like a sushirrito, cut to show the spiral. Burrito energy, sushi heart.
Flaky paratha wrapped around tikka chicken, pickled onion, mint-yogurt and Tikka Tokka. The kati roll our sauce was destined for.
Crackly baguette, hot chicken, pickled daikon-carrot, cucumber, cilantro, jalapeño. Crunch from three directions.
All four are structurally sound enough to eat while crossing the street. We do not recommend testing this.
WHAT THE INTERNET MADE US DO
Chef Juicy has a phone now. These are what happened. The Court allowed it, reluctantly.
Popcorn chicken in a chamoy-loaded pickle boat, Tajín, tamarind candy. Sweet, sour, spicy, and clinically unhinged.
Thicc fries under Ethiopian doro wat chicken, berbere oil stripe, jammy egg, injera crumble. Loaded fries went to finishing school.
Silky Thai poached chicken over fragrant rice, broth, and that ginger-garlic-chili sauce that runs the whole show. Quiet. Perfect.
Korean street toast: buttery milk bread, cabbage-scallion egg, crispy cutlet, the iconic ketchup-and-sugar stripes. Sweet-savory whiplash.
If one of these blows up online, the Court reserves the right to deny it ever existed.
SKATING TO WHERE THE PUCK IS GOING
Not trendy yet. Chef Juicy read the tea leaves — literally, one of these is tea leaves — and these are what you’ll be posting in 2027. You saw them here first.
The Georgian cheese-bread boat with pulled chicken and a runny yolk you swirl in yourself. Bread, cheese, egg — the holy trinity, going huge soon.
Filipino sizzling sisig — crispy chopped chicken, onion, chili, an egg cracked tableside, calamansi. Filipino food is next and we’re early.
Whole toasted cumin, chili flakes, charred skewered chicken. Hyper-regional Chinese is the next frontier. Cumin is the new chili crisp.
Burmese tea-leaf salad — fermented tea, fried garlic, peanuts, split peas, grilled chicken. A salad with more crunch than your last relationship. Healthy, wildly addictive.
When these go mainstream, we’d appreciate it if you remembered who told you. The Judge keeps receipts.
FOUR TIERS · ONE WAIVER
The Judge ranks the heat. You choose how far up the ladder you’re willing to testify. Tier 4 requires a signature.
Grilled thigh, Calabrian hot-honey stripe. Warm, sweet, gentle. The on-ramp. Everyone’s welcome here.
Fermented soybean-gochujang glaze, sesame, scallion. Heat with a whole personality behind it. Deeply umami.
Crispy tots, scorpion-pepper queso, chili-oil stripes. You will feel these. You were warned in writing.
Ghost + reaper glaze. The Court is not liable. Sign the waiver, finish it, get your name on the Wall. Milk not included on principle.
The Wall of Flame currently holds 1,204 names. The Judge keeps count. The Judge keeps receipts.
DIP RESPONSIBLY
Why five? Because Judge Thickens ruled six “reckless.”
Tikka masala energy, viral by design.
The OG. Sweet, smoky, classified.
Barbecue with a temper.
Tyler made it. Tyler is not sorry.
Garlic aioli with swagger.
Golden, floral, dangerously drinkable.
Disappears before your fries do.
Sauce Of Last resort. Sign here.
OUR QUALITY DEPARTMENT IS A COURTROOM
Other chains have QA. We have due process. Two AI personalities, locked in eternal litigation over your lunch.
The LLM trained to be the ultimate arbiter of contests.
Presides over every batch. Rules on juiciness, crunch integrity, and sauce jurisdiction. Has never been overturned on appeal. There is no appeal.
The LLM trained to eternally advocate to Judge Thickens for taste, clean ingredients, and juiciness.
Files roughly 400 motions a day on behalf of flavor. Wins most of them. The Seasonal Thiccwhich is his closing argument.
If a batch isn’t ruled Certified Juicy, it doesn’t leave the kitchen. The staff eats the evidence.
AMERICAN SOFT-SERVE, GROWN UP
One world-class vanilla, a bar of interesting syrups. Light, barely sweet, with just enough bitter to make you pay attention. Pour it however you want.
THE BASE OF EVERYTHING
SINGLE-ORIGIN · TAHA’A, FRENCH POLYNESIA
We went looking for the best vanilla on earth and found it on Taha’a — the “Vanilla Island” — where the world’s most prized Tahitian beans grow. Flecked with real seeds, floral, and barely sweet. Perfect alone. Better with a pour.
Add a syrup — each one leans light-sweet with a little bitter on the back end:
Taha’a vanilla drowned in a shot of bitter espresso. The original light-sweet-bitter. Eat it before it melts; that’s the game.
Honey cooked till it turns bitter-dark, flaky sea salt on top. Sweet, then smoky, then salt. Sophisticated for a soft serve.
Blood-orange-bitters syrup, a thread of good olive oil, a little salt. Tastes like a negroni that grew up and got dessert.
Dark Southern sorghum — molasses with a bitter edge — and toasted candied pecans. The most American thing we pour.
And the ice-cream-meets-cheese department, which we refuse to explain:
Real cream cheese churned into ice cream — tangy, dense, faintly savory, with graham crumble and honey. Cheesecake without the cake or the commitment.
A bagel-shaped ring of frozen yogurt, cinnamon-sugar crumble, berry stripe. Hole included. Toasting not available and we’ve stopped taking questions.
A real sesame bagel, split, with a slab of Taha’a vanilla in the middle. The ice cream sandwich New York was legally required to invent.
Cherry Pistachio lives over in the Summer Drop. The Cloud Bar holds no grudges. It holds cones.
THE WHOLE BOARD
Frozen whip: meringue, cream, a whisper of buttercream, whipped cream cheese. Scooped like snow, gone like a rumor.
Layers of meringue and whipped cream-cheese cream with buttercream seams. Cuts like a cloud, eats like a confession.
Honeydew pearls over thick whipped yogurt, lime zest, honey. Cold, green, weirdly elegant.
THE FULL BAR, NO BAR
Strange coffee, a wellness wall, and charge sodas. Erewhon walks into a Dutch Bros and orders for the whole table.
10PM – 2AM ONLY
When the moon’s up, the menu changes. Four things only. All of them correct.
Griddled sourdough, pulled chicken, three cheeses, grilled onions, too much butter. Press it. Eat it. Tell no one.
Six pan-seared chicken dumplings under one crispy lattice skirt, black-vinegar chili oil stripe. The skirt is the point.
Cinnamon-sugar fried Thunks, warm chocolate dip. The Thunk’s final form. It was always heading here.
Chamomile-honey oat milk steamer, nutmeg, crescent foam. The official drink of the drive home. Decaffeinated by court order.
Moon Hours items cannot be ordered before 10pm. The register physically refuses. We’ve tried.
FIND US
Two doors, one moon. Thicc-Thru open late.
1300 Juicy Way, Nashville, TN
Daily 10:30a – 12a · Thicc-Thru till 1a
212 Five Points Aly, East Nashville
Daily 11a – 2a · Moon hours apply
Inside the Flagship. The original eight stools.
First-come. The regulars don’t move.
