Red-eye gravy fades away in Charlotte. But a nearby diner holds onto tradition

Lord knows, I tried.

But I can’t think of another entity more proudly and inherently Southern than NASCAR.

Can you?

I’ve also tried to think of another city with stronger, deeper roots to NASCAR than Charlotte (and its suburbs).

That being said, you think there’d be at least one restaurant in the city that serves something more traditionally tied to Southern American foodstuff than boiled peanuts or pimento cheese. I’m talking about the one, the only: red-eye gravy.

Think about it: The area is the headquarters of both Joe Gibbs and Hendrick Motorsports racing teams and home to the Charlotte Motor Speedway and NASCAR Hall of Fame (It’s also the birthplace of Bojangles, which to hefty chunk of people from above the Mason-Dixon line, symbolizes “the South” just as much as NASCAR does.

You’d think one would beget the other.

Viscosity-wise, red-eye gravy is more of a “sauce” than a “gravy.” It’s concocted from the drippings and debris of country ham (idyllically fried in cast-iron skillet) that’s been deglazed with a cup of black coffee before being finished with a few pinches of brown sugar. All together, all at once, primitive and profound.

A week into my hunt for red-eye gravy in Charlotte I couldn’t help but imagine how miserable Southern food savant Sheri Castle would be if she were my sidekick on this hunt. Afterall, Castle was honored with the Southern Foodways Alliance “Keeper of the Flame,” and she has listed red-eye gravy (coupled with grits and country ham) as one of her “Seven Essential Southern Dishes” in The Bitter Southerner.

Even in the kitschy vibes of the Charlotte restaurant named the RedEye Diner, you could eat your way through the gastronomical gamut of spaghetti, banana pudding, firecracker shrimp, Greek omelettes, “Mexican” cheeseburgers, French toast and even sausage gravy. But nope — there’s not a single drop of red-eye gravy.

All of this conjures memories of a phone conversation I had with the legendary Alan Benton of Benton’s Bacon and Country Ham. I remember being culturally demoralized as I listened to him lament about the slow but steady decline of Millennials’ and Generation Z’s appetite for things like country ham, which by default means that red-eye gravy will eventually bite the dust.

At this point, it comes off as folklore, hearing seasoned Charlotteons reminisce about the greasy spooned glory days of Gert’s Lil Diner. There, the late proprietor Getrude Randson held court on Beatties Ford Road with impeccable hospitality and home-cooked meals, which included — you guessed it — red-eye gravy.

This is why I found myself outside the official confines of the Queen City in Monroe, a place that I’d only ever known to be associated with the origin story of R&B duo K-Ci & JoJo.

However, doing my due diligence for this piece, I discovered that the small town about 27 miles southeast of Charlotte proper has a rich history in NASCAR. It’s home to both Speedy Thompson, winner of the 1957 Southern 500 in Darlington, and journeyman Baxter Price, as well as the former home of the Starlite Speedway.

If there’s any place in Charlotte or the surrounding areas that would have red-eye gravy, it’s the Little Country Kitchen in Monroe.

It’s one of those spots with tables and chairs that look exactly like ones from your local Moose Lodge. One of those spots whose clientele could easily be described as “Good Ol’ Boys” and bingo parlor dwellers. One of those spots that couldn’t care less about Instagram followers or trends or going “viral.” One of those spots that was around long before a Yelp review told you it was “phenomenal.” It’s also one of those spots that will surely be around long after a Yelp review says it was “horrible.”

Spots like this are my absolute favorite places to eat. Spots like this are immune to outside influences and oblivious to any pop culture fracas. They just keep chugging along, year after year like a locomotive on train tracks greased with lard.

The two eggs cooked over-easy, grits, country ham and biscuit I ordered had me more giddy than anything I’d ever ordered from any Denny’s, IHOP, Huddle House, Waffle House or Cracker Barrel. (I despise corporatized breakfast.)

When the waitress returned with my porcelain cup of red-eye eye gravy, I felt like I’d already conquered the day, and it was only 8:15 in the morning.

Little splotches of grease floated on the surface of the gravy, and tidbits of country ham gently sloshed at the bottom like sediment. Foodwise, it was like seeing an earless monk seal sunbathing on a beach in Hawaii or watching a football team scoring a touchdown in the wishbone offense: a rarity turned into reality.

I sopped half of it up with my biscuit and poured the other half over my grits, emotionally wallowing in its antiquated goodness, knowing that in 2026, this moment was a luxury.

Now myself, Castle and maybe even Benton can sleep comfy at night, knowing that somewhere there’s red-eye gravy in the (704), and it’s flowing through Monroe.

Location: 2526 Old Charlotte Hwy, Monroe, NC 28110

Cuisine: Southern