An 88-year Southern institution ended on December 1. We’re remembering the fried okra, congealed salads, and chocolate cream pie that made K&W a legend.
If I’d known it would be my last meal at K&W Cafeteria, I would have ordered both kinds of okra, fried and stewed, said yes to the chocolate cream pie, and dragged my hush puppies through gravy until the plate shone clean.
There was always going to be a next time at my favorite chain restaurant, its tenure as endless as its sweet tea refills, as inevitable as the battalion of tennis-ball-baffled walkers advancing upon the restaurant’s front door within minutes of the pastor’s last “Amen!” on any given Sunday morning since 1937.
There is no such thing as “always.” Especially after the last six years, I should know that, and still the news shook me like a cream-dolloped jewel block of Jell-O on a septuagenarian porter’s tray. The remaining nine K&W outposts shut their doors forever, effective that same accursed day, December 1, 2025. “We thank you for your support throughout our years in business,” said a message on the company’s website…