It began innocently enough back in 1994. Rodeo Cowboy Ernie Greer, then in his mid-thirties, was looking to buy a stainless steel table so he could cure hams during his off-season. As a kid in rural Paris, Tennessee, Ernie’s father and grandfather both cured hams while young Ernie helped. But when Ernie arrived to the home of Mr. Reynolds to buy the table, Reynolds asked Ernie if he wanted to buy his whole operation instead. The small smoke house facility on Southall Road was already USDA approved, and Greer saw an opportunity. “I traded my rodeo horses for hams,” says Ernie. Thirty years later, Greer’s Tennessee Country Hams is a hub of Williamson County culture and an important part of holiday celebrations throughout the community–and nationwide.

 

Each January, two thousand pounds of hams arrive at Greer’s, where they are hand-processed and cured by Mr. Greer himself for several months. “We don’t cut corners. We only use salt to cure our hams. No preservatives or nitrates–ever,” says Ernie’s wife of forty years, Pam Greer. “It takes a man to run a business like this," she says of the back-breaking work that goes into producing their quality hams. Ernie tells me he knows it’s time to smoke the hams when the peaches come in bloom. By August, the hams are ready for sale and each year this small family operation sells over one thousand hams locally and via shipping. “We’ve been doing this so long, we have customers who we knew their Daddy and their Grandaddy. It gets real personal,” says Ernie. Both Pam and Ernie tell me that it’s an honor to be a part of their customers’ family holiday traditions.

 

In addition to their famous hams, during the holiday season Greer’s offers large trays of sides including stuffing using Pam’s mother’s recipe, macaroni and cheese, turnip greens, creamed corn and nine different kinds of pies. The day I was there, Pam and Ernie’s daughter and granddaughter were pitching in to help. “Our granddaughter will call and ask if she can bring a friend over to help make pies. They have fun back there!” Pam tells me. During our conversation, Ernie opened up the secret back door and revealed the turkey frying room where they’ll be preparing over one hundred turkeys for Thanksgiving this year. “We’ll be up at 1am getting everything ready,” he tells me. “Then we close at noon. We need to have our Thanksgiving too.”

Making food and memories for our community is clearly a labor of love for the Greers. They don’t have a website, don’t take credit cards and don’t advertise. Frankly, they don’t need to. They tell me they are a small, family-run operation and intend to keep it that way. However, some growth was inevitable.

 

Over the years, Pam and Ernie kept getting requests from customers who didn’t want to just pick up their order and leave. So, a few years ago, Ernie constructed a covered porch on the front of the smokehouse. Now known affectionately as “The Porch,” Pam and Ernie operate a down home southern soul food speakeasy for those in the know.

 

Open for “meat and three” dinner on Thursday, Friday and Saturday nights and serving breakfast on Sunday, The Porch is the place to go for delicious homemade, real-deal southern fare. With only thirty-six seats available, The Porch is reservations only and BYOB. “We made this for our friends and family and it’s really grown by word of mouth,” says Pam, who creates special off-menu items on Thursday nights only. With dishes like hot chicken and ribeye steaks, Pam says The Porch is almost always full for reservations a week in advance. “We just love cooking for our people,” she tells me. Greer’s also offers gift baskets for sale complete with ham, bacon, local honey, pancake and biscuit mixes, jellies and other items. These can be picked up on site or shipped.

 

Halfway through my conversation with Pam and Ernie, I realized I hadn’t tasted any of their food yet, but I knew I would be returning to Greer’s again and again. Although I’d only known them roughly thirty minutes, they felt like old friends who you hope to be lucky enough to find in life: warm-hearted, hardworking, and exactly who they seem to be. The word that comes to mind is authentic–a rarity in today’s world. “You can’t bottle this,” I tell them. And I’m not just talking about the food.

 

I ask Pam and Ernie if they ever think about retiring. Ernie says, “I think about it, but then what would I do? You can only go fishing for so long.” I admit I was relieved to hear it. I’ve only just found them and am not ready to imagine Southall Road without them.

 

As our conversation comes to a close, I look around at the empty seats on the porch and imagine them filling up later that night with customers and laughter. I can almost feel the love in a physical way–and Pam and Ernie’s outstretched arms welcoming everyone in.