In the shadow of the Great Smoky Mountains, where tourists flock for rollercoasters and dinner shows, sits an unassuming treasure that locals have been keeping to themselves.
Huck Finn’s Catfish in Pigeon Forge might have “catfish” in its name, but it’s harboring a secret that deserves to be shouted from the mountaintops – some of the most heavenly fried chicken you’ll ever sink your teeth into.
The green metal-roofed building doesn’t scream “culinary destination” from the outside.
It’s modest, practical, with a covered porch sporting a few rocking chairs – the universal Tennessee signal that says, “Come sit a spell.”…