Does Biscuit Love Gulch Serve Vegetarian And Vegan Options?

Stepping into the Gulch location, the thing that always pulls my eyes is the stack of warm biscuits and the scent of frying chicken — and the menu pretty much telegraphs what people come for. The showstopper is their 'Bonuts' — little biscuit doughnuts tossed in sugar and served with lemon mascarpone and seasonal jam. They're playful, addictive, and perfect for sharing (or not). Another must is the savory fried chicken biscuit famously called the 'East Nasty' — juicy, spicy or mild depending on the day, with melty cheese and a crunchy exterior that contrasts perfectly with a tender biscuit. Beyond those two, I often get pulled toward their biscuit Benedict-style plates — think poached eggs, rich hollandaise on a flaky biscuit — and the biscuits smothered in sausage gravy that taste like Sunday mornings. Sides and extras matter here too: house-made jams, pimento spread, and a crisp slaw or greens round out the meal. Pair any of these with a good coffee or a cold sweet tea and you’ve got brunch bliss. To me, it’s comfort food with a clever twist every visit, and I always leave smiling.

I get excited even typing this — 'Biscuit Love Gulch' absolutely makes online ordering easy these days. You can place pickup orders on their official site for specific pickup times, which is a lifesaver on busy weekend mornings. They also partner with third-party delivery services so you can get favorites delivered right to your door; common apps include the big players like DoorDash and Uber Eats depending on your area. If you plan to swing by, order ahead to skip the line and pick a time an hour after opening to avoid the breakfast crunch. Delivery is convenient but sometimes the biscuits and gravy shift in transit, so for saucy items I prefer pickup. Overall, the online options are solid, and I love that I can grab bonuts or a biscuit sandwich without a two-hour wait — it’s become my go-to weekend cheat meal.

Booked a big brunch there last spring and learned the ropes firsthand. The place can absolutely take large groups, but the trick is timing and communication. When I reserved for about 35 people they offered a combination of space — a roomy main dining area plus a semi-private corner that felt like our own. They asked for a head count a few days ahead and suggested staggered seating if you wanted to be in the hottest late-morning slot. Food-wise, they handled family-style platters and set menus so service stayed smooth instead of chaotic. If you're planning something bigger than 40, they recommended discussing a private buyout or special event setup; there were additional fees and a deposit, but having the place to ourselves meant the playlist, timing, and kids' seating were no longer compromises. My takeaway: Biscuit Love Gulch is great for groups as long as you book early, confirm logistics, and consider an off-peak time — we left full, happy, and already scheming our next group brunch.

Bright mornings in the Gulch mean one thing to me: Biscuit Love lines. I usually plan trips there like a mini mission. Typically, the Gulch location opens around 8:00 AM and closes mid-afternoon — most days they run roughly 8:00 AM to 2:30 PM, but holiday hours or special events can shift that. I’ve found weekday mornings (especially Tuesday–Thursday) are the calmest; arriving between opening and 9:30 AM usually lands me a short wait under 15–25 minutes. Weekends are a different beast. Saturdays and Sundays, especially between 9:30 and 11:30 AM, can spike to 45–90 minutes depending on weather and tourist flow. Late mornings on Sunday when brunch crowds rinse in are often the worst. My go-to trick is to swing by around 1:00–1:30 PM — you’ll catch the tail end of the rush and wait times often drop below 20 minutes. If I’m feeling extra patient I’ll hop on the waitlist app they use or stroll the Gulch for a coffee and come back when I get the text. It’s a small price for those fluffy biscuits, and that first bite always makes the wait worth it.

Gotta say, Biscuit Love in the Gulch is one of those places that feels like Nashville got into one perfectly curated brunch mood. I go there when I want something reliably delicious but also a little buzzy — the space is bright, the staff moves quickly, and the wait, while real, tends to feel part of the experience because you can watch the neighborhood energy. The 'East Nasty' is my go-to: fried chicken, cheddar, bacon jam on a buttery biscuit that somehow balances indulgence and restraint. Plus, the 'bonuts' (biscuit-doughnut hybrids) are a sweet, shareable detour you won't regret. Compared to spots like the classic 'Pancake Pantry'—which is legendary but often claustrophobic—or the drive-out charm of 'The Loveless Cafe', Biscuit Love sits in that sweet middle: more contemporary and Instagram-ready than a diner, but less precious than a white-tablecloth brunch. Prices skew a little higher than some mom-and-pop joints, but I find the portion sizes and flavor profiles justify it. If you're planning a weekend visit, go early or grab their mobile waitlist if they have it; otherwise bring a friend and expect to people-watch. Bottom line: it's a top-tier Gulch pick for me because it nails Southern comfort with modern vibes, and I always leave feeling pleasantly full and oddly proud of my biscuit choices.

Walking into Nawa Bistro felt like stumbling on a little victory for plant-based eaters — bright, warm, and surprisingly ambitious. The menu clearly marks vegetarian and vegan dishes, and there’s a comforting variety: crisp salads with roasted beets and goat-cheese alternatives, a hearty lentil stew that’s completely vegan, and a grain bowl with charred vegetables and a tahini dressing that holds up as a full meal. Portions are generous enough that you don’t leave still hungry. I’ve asked staff about swapping proteins and they happily swapped cheese or animal protein for tofu or extra veggies without making it a fuss. Weekend specials often include a vegan take on a classic — I had a smoky jackfruit taco once that stole the show. Desserts include a dairy-free chocolate mousse and seasonal sorbets, so the meal can end on a sweet note. Service, atmosphere, and the way flavors are layered make the vegetarian and vegan choices feel intentional rather than an afterthought. I left feeling pleasantly full and quietly pleased that a bistro can make plant-forward food feel so celebratory.

Walking into Shady Nook in Salmon, Idaho felt like slipping into a neighbor’s kitchen that also happens to crank out hearty plates — and yes, they do serve vegetarian dishes, at least based on my visits. I’ve gone there a handful of times across different seasons, and what I love is how flexible the staff is. There’s usually a solid house salad with local greens, seasonal roasted vegetables, and a couple of side-heavy options (think Idaho potatoes done several ways) that easily make a full meal if you mix and match. On brunch days you can typically get veggie-friendly omelettes, pancakes, or skillets where they’ll happily omit meat and pile on mushrooms, peppers, and cheese. What stood out to me was that the kitchen seems comfortable with substitutions: swapping out a steak or fish for extra veggies or a baked potato, or turning a soup into a vegetarian version when possible. That said, menus in small towns shift with the seasons and what’s fresh from local producers, so the exact lineup changes — last summer I had a tomato-basil soup that was vegetarian, while another visit offered a surprisingly tasty grilled veggie sandwich. If you’re strict about avoiding animal products, ask whether broths, sauces, or dressings use chicken stock, bacon bits, or anchovies; those little surprises are common in comfort-food kitchens. If you’re planning a visit, my practical tip is to call ahead or check their online menu (if they have one) and tell the server you’re vegetarian — they seem to take requests well. For vegans or folks with allergies, ask about butter, cheese, and grill-cross-contamination. And if they can’t quite accommodate what you want, there are often nearby cafes and delis that cater more specifically to plant-based diets. I usually leave there full and happy after creating my own veggie plate, and I enjoy how local flavors (hello, Idaho potatoes!) give the vegetarian options a little extra charm.

I love how Xia Rooftop Bistro doesn’t treat plant-based eaters like an afterthought. When I dine there, I’m always happy to find a clear vegetarian section and a surprisingly robust set of vegan options, not just salads with a sad look. Their seasonal vegetable small plates—like charred broccolini with sesame, miso-roasted eggplant, and a citrusy roasted beet salad—are crafted with real care. On my last visit I ordered a vegan take on their signature ramen that swapped the broth for a rich mushroom base and piled on silken tofu, scallions, and crunchy garlic chips. The staff have been helpful about swaps: they’ll remove cheese, swap dressings for vinaigrettes or citrus oil, and point out gluten-free choices too. Desserts include sorbets and a coconut-based panna cotta that’s creamy without dairy. Cocktails on the rooftop also play nice with non-dairy preferences—think a yuzu spritz or a mezcal with a grapefruit finish. Overall, Xia feels like a place where vegans and vegetarians get real options rather than token ones, and I always leave feeling both satisfied and a little smug about discovering another great plant-forward spot.

My local run-in with Chuan Chili House surprised me in a good way. The first time I went I was hunting for something spicy and meat-free, and they didn’t disappoint. They’ve got a decent spread of vegetables, tofu varieties, and mushroom-heavy dishes that stand proudly on their own — think silky tofu, wood ear mushrooms, lotus root, baby bok choy, and rib-sticking eggplant preparations. The spice levels are adjustable, which is great when you're balancing heat and flavor. Beyond the usual stir-fries, I discovered they offer broths and noodle bowls that can be made vegetarian if you ask for vegetable stock instead of the meaty base. They also plate up cold dishes like smashed cucumber and marinated bean curd that are naturally plant-based. I always make a little swap or two — hold the fish sauce, ask for no lard — and they’ve been accommodating each time. It’s not a vegan temple, but for a Sichuan place with authentic chiles and bold sauces, it’s one of the better spots around for vegetarians. I left full, satisfied, and already planning my next visit.

I’ve been to Cafe Montana a few times, and their menu is pretty accommodating for different dietary needs! They have a dedicated section for plant-based options, which includes things like a vegan avocado toast with sunflower seed spread (sounds basic, but the texture is unreal) and a roasted veggie bowl with tahini dressing. Their pastries sometimes rotate, but I’ve spotted vegan banana bread and almond croissants on weekends. The staff are super knowledgeable about ingredients too—last time I asked, they even confirmed which syrups in their coffee bar are vegan-friendly. What stands out is how they don’t just slap 'vegan' on a boring salad. The flavors feel intentional, like their smoky lentil soup or the jackfruit tacos during their Thursday specials. If you’re into dessert, the coconut-based chocolate mousse is a must-try. It’s rare to find a café where vegan items aren’t an afterthought, but Cafe Montana nails it.